Self Destruct

by K. D. Carrillo

  Aiden and I fought about him going home. He looked so tired. His skin had a grayish tinge to it, and under his eyes looked like a dark bruise. His eyes were pinkish from strain, tears, and lack of sleep. “Not without you Red. I can’t, so just drop it ok?”

  I considered pressing the argument, but there was a flash of fear in his eyes that had me reconsidering how best to take care of him. “I’m requesting a cot for you. Use it or go home. I can’t let you take care of me, and hurt yourself doing it.”

  50

  Aiden

  Exhaustion claimed me almost the exact moment I laid down on the cot the nurse brought in. I slept without dreaming, mercifully, until a blood-curdling scream ripped through the night. I sat up quickly and saw Becca fighting phantoms. The officer stationed outside the door entered with his hand on the butt of his gun.

  “She’s having a nightmare,” I informed him. He nodded tersely and resumed his post in the hall. “No, please no. Oh God, no, no, no, no!” Becca screamed. “Don’t touch me, please don’t, please it hurts, please stop,” she begged. Her fear and agony tore me up on the inside. I crawled onto her bed next to her, and I froze. I didn’t want to grab her and scare her even more, but I needed to comfort her.

  “Becca, sweetheart, it’s just a bad dream. Come back to me Red,” I soothed. Tears streamed down her face, and she continued to thrash. I stroked her cheek, gently. “Please Angel come back to me,” I begged.

  She began to whimper, desperate, broken sounds escaping her throat. I couldn’t resist anymore. I pulled her onto my lap, careful not to jostle her around too much and reinjure her head.

  I stroked her hair and rubbed her back. Slowly her whimpers quieted, and I could feel the nightmare start to release her. “Aiden?” she croaked. “Yes angel, I’m here,” I comforted. “Oh god, it was just a nightmare, thank God. I hate hospitals. Please get me out of here. I can’t stay here, please,” she pleaded desperately. “I’ll see what I can do,” I agreed.

  I reached over and pushed the call button. I might have to donate a large sum of money to keep the nurses from strangling us with the cord, but there was no way I was going to leave her like this.

  “Becca, what was your nightmare about?” I really didn’t need to ask. I could tell by the way she was begging what it was about. The younger sound of her voice was a pretty good indicator too. She went back there, back to being thirteen and powerless against the perverted desires of an older and stronger man.

  The shame on her face shattered me. She always seemed so strong. I had mistakenly assumed she had recovered from the trauma of her past. I thought she had managed to cement the crushed pieces of her life back together. Now I understood that Becca had put herself back together with tape. Peel it just a bit, and she fell apart again.

  A doctor entered the room. I hadn’t seen this doctor yet, but I wasn’t worried about her safety. Reed had shown pictures of all the medical staff to the officers stationed outside the door. They were to stop anyone they were unfamiliar with.

  “I understand you had a very troubling nightmare?” the doctor asked concerned. “Yeah, I, uh, guess it was more like a memory,” Becca responded quietly. “I’m Dr. Carlson, a psychiatrist here at the hospital. I’d like to try and help you, if you’d let me.” Becca simply nodded her agreement. “Do you often have nightmares, Rebecca?”

  “Not often, at least for a few years. Mostly because once I was in high school I kept myself busy or drunk. My best friend convinced me to get counseling over a year ago, and that eventually helped me stop them completely,” she shared. “Do you think it was your ordeal, or being here that triggered the panic?” he pressed.

  “I think a little of both. It is hard for me to be here in the hospital though. I have mostly avoided them until this year.” The doctor scratched a few notes into the chart he was holding. “And before this year, were you ever hospitalized?” She fidgeted around, and I knew this was going to be bad.

  “Yeah, when I was assaulted by, uhm, yeah I was hospitalized because of a mental breakdown,” she mumbled. Dr. Carlson’s face pinched, and he flipped through her chart. “I’m sorry I’m confused. When you were brought in we requested all of your medical records. The records from Colorado say you were raped as a young girl. Is that not accurate?”

  “I only remember him touching me, there. I…my mom said they stopped it before… I was pretty unstable for a few weeks afterward.” Shit, that explained the guilt her mother wore. It was more than her failure to protect her child, but lying too. A lie that was busy working its way out of the darkness of Becca’s memory.

  “Rebecca?” the doctor asked confused and concerned. “Yeah, in my nightmare I was being raped,” she said, so softly it was hard to hear her. Dr. Carlson sighed, and looked like he was carrying the world on his shoulders.

  “I wish I could prescribe you something to help with the anxiety and panic. Unfortunately, none of the medications that would actually help can be taken while pregnant. I think you are suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. That is what is responsible for the nightmares. I’ll drop off some information I have on local support groups. Talking often helps deal with the trauma.”

  “Was it was true, my nightmare?” she asked hopelessly. “Red, look at me,” I demanded, “you are still the same person. We are the same. This was always there, the only difference is now you know.”

  “Except, our story is different. You weren’t my first. I didn’t have that to give you,” she said with tears sneaking down her face.

  “Yes I was. I was the first man to touch you for your pleasure. I was the first to touch you with love. You are my first love. The first time I made love was with you. I have all the firsts that really matter,” I vowed. “I better be your last too,” she pouted. I kissed her temple. “There’s my girl.”

  51

  Rebecca

  I managed to get a little sleep after my nightmare. Aiden never returned to his cot, but remained on my bed with me. The nurses that came in throughout the night never commented on our sleeping arrangements. The morning light escaping between the cheap plastic blinds woke me only a few minutes before one of the doctors I had seen a couple of times came in the room.

  He silently wrote something on my chart, checked some of the machines, and wrote down more. Reed came in the room, and the doctor addressed him instead of me. “She has recovered enough that she can be released. If she has any unusually bad headaches, she needs to come back in. She will have a dull headache for the next few days, similar to a stress headache, but any dizziness, vertigo, or vomiting and she will need to come back.” He wrote something on a prescription pad and handed it to Reed.

  Without saying a single word to me the doctor turned and left the room. “That was odd. He did see I was awake right?” I grouched. “He’s a little irritated with me. I requested we check you out of the hospital. They want you to stay another night so they can drain a little more of your insurance money,” Reed said with a shrug.

  “We are getting out of here,” Aiden said, rubbing sleep out of his bleary eyes. “Yeah, listen…you can’t go home,” Reed began. I shuddered. Honestly, I never wanted to go back. Every time I stepped outside I would anticipate an attack. Only my luck would bring violence to such a peaceful place. Aiden examined me out of the corner of his all-seeing blue eyes. “I’m not sure we will ever be going back there.”

  “We still haven’t located your mother, Aiden. Your father hasn’t spoken to her in about a week. They haven’t spent any time together since your wedding. We can’t find any link to Carrie Costello, but we still don’t want either of you to be found by her. Her dorm room was extremely disturbing. She lived alone in one of the upper-classmen dorms, and her study carrel was covered in pictures of you Aiden. Most of them looked like they were taken with long-range lenses. She had pictures of you sleeping on your couch, sitting on your porch. The most disturbing were her pictures of the two of you with Becca’s face scratched out.”

  “Fuck! Are
you sure she didn’t do this?” Aiden growled. “We aren’t a hundred percent certain of anything. That is why we don’t want you to go home. You are going to go to a safe house, and we are going to have off-duty officers staying with you. The department hasn’t given the green light for around the clock security. There isn’t enough money for it, but the officers that were involved in the search for Becca are determined she is going to remain safe. They need a victory. Even in a safe town like Ellensburg we still see too much bad stuff.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked. “Well, do you have a place your mom doesn’t know about?” Reed asked Aiden. Aiden scratched his chin. “No, but I had wanted to take Becca up to the mountains for spring break. She really can’t travel too far, and I thought it would be relaxing. I looked into some places up past Cle Elum.”

  “What if I make all of the reservations under my name?” Reed asked. “Nice,” Aiden agreed. “Uh, is everyone forgetting school?” I asked. “Can you approach the different department heads and set up distance learning for the remainder of the semester?” Aiden asked. “Yeah, I’m sure they will work with us,” Reed agreed. “I might have to take an incomplete in my graphic design class, but that is ok,” Aiden considered.

  “That all sounds fantastic, but you are forgetting about baseball. Doesn’t practice start next week? It is next week, right? What day is it?” I pondered realizing I didn't know how long I was unconscious. “I’m quitting the team, Becca,” Aiden said like it was obvious. “What? No. What about your scholarship?” I objected.

  The muscle in Aiden’s jaw began to clench. “I was at a fucking baseball meeting when you were taken from our house. We don’t need the money. There is no way in hell I am going to travel with the team and leave you at home. Drop it Red.”

  “Aiden, you can’t give up something that has been such a huge part of your life. You love baseball. I can’t let you quit because of me. I don’t want you to resent me because you have to give up so much,” I insisted. “I love you more Becca. I don’t have to give up baseball.”

  Aiden leaned down over me and nuzzled his head into my belly. “There is always this little guy in here. He will have t-ball, little league, middle school, and high school baseball to look forward to. I think I will be a great coach. Don’t search for more worries. This wasn’t a hard decision for me. You come first, always. The only thing I could lose that would hurt me is you.”

  I felt the tears swell in my eyes. I ran my fingers through his thick hair. “You will be a great coach.” “Come on, let’s get out of here,” Aiden urged, changing the subject. “But Reed just left,” I pointed out. “And by the time we have you checked out he will be ready for us.”

  He was right of course. Reed was waiting around for the doctors to finally release me. We pulled up at a remote cabin just outside of the city of Roslyn. “What about Jeremy? Won’t they go after Jeremy to get to me?” I asked, panicked.

  “Shh, it’ll be ok. Toni and Kate went to stay with Reed. Jeremy and Cameron are staying with a friend from the baseball team. They will be fine. Consider this a mini vacation. It will just be you, me and a revolving door of off-duty police officers.” I giggled. “How romantic.”

  52

  Aiden

  Reed and I had come to an unspoken agreement. Becca was to be kept in the dark about the ongoing investigation. Until all danger was past, and whoever organized this was arrested, she wasn’t to be told anything. She had already experienced enough trauma. I had to protect her from any more.

  No new information was uncovered for the first two days we were at the cabin. It should have been relaxing, but it felt more like watching a bomb timer tick down to zero.

  On the third day of our stay in Roslyn, Reed relieved our volunteer bodyguard. He looked around the open floor plan. “Becca sleeping?” I dropped the remote, and got off the couch. “Wanna step out on the porch?” I followed him out the door. I lifted the wood box on the porch and removed a pack of cigarettes I hid there.

  “Smoking?” Reed asked critically. I lit the cigarette, inhaled deep, and blew out a stream of smoke. I studied my feet for a minute. “Yeah, I had quit, but,” I trailed off.

  Reed put up his hand. “Hey man, I get it. This has been a shitty week for you guys.” “I just want to beat the shit out of something, or get sloppy drunk. I really need to check out a little, but that won’t help Becca. I figured smoking was the least horrible of the vices I could have resumed.”

  “How is Becca holding up?” I shook my head to clear it. “Ugh, she is trying hard, but she has been having nightmares. She wakes up screaming. The worst part is everything she is seeing has actually happened to her at some point. And she feels guilty for killing that piece of shit.”

  I took another drag from my cigarette before confessing the rest. “I’m afraid I’m loosing her. Shit, Reed. I don’t know how to reach her. We have both punished ourselves over our pasts. We have let ourselves be used by people who didn’t care about us, and drank away our memories. But, the way she is pulling inside herself, replaying what happened over and over again is doing more damage to her than anything she ever physically put herself through.

  I need to think about something else. Tell me why you came out. I know you didn’t just stop by to take over the night shift.”

  “You’re right, I have some questions. We did some checking into your ex-girlfriend, Vanessa Preston. Did you know she hasn’t returned to NYU since just before the end of first semester?”

  “Well that would explain the visit she and my mother paid after Thanksgiving. I couldn’t figure out why she was in Washington, but I didn’t really care enough to look into it. Is she involved in this?” I asked, confused.

  Reed leaned back against the porch rail. “When we were searching through your parent’s finances to see what your mom might have needed twenty-thousand dollars for we found something. Your dad and Ted Anderson have been secretly purchasing George Preston’s shares of their law firm. I’m not sure if your mother knew about this or not since they haven’t been together since your wedding.”

  “Yeah, my dad served her with divorce papers. I haven’t really even thought about it with everything that has happened. Plus neither of them has even brought it up. I knew my dad didn’t want to work with George any more. They don’t really get along that well. George is a pompous ass.

  What I don’t understand is my dad wants to teach law. He's had an offer from Gonzaga to teach civil litigation. I can’t figure out why he would want to buy George out if he wasn’t planning on continuing practicing law.”

  “Well I was also curious why two partners were trying to squeeze out the other founding partner. The three of them were frat brothers at the University of Washington during their undergrad program. What changed?” Reed asked.

  “I’m honestly not sure. When Vanessa and I were dating in high school our parents were always leaving us alone to go to dinners and the theater together. It got a little tense when Vanessa gave the baby up for adoption without discussing it with me, but I thought they worked through their differences.”

  I told Reed about my sordid history with Vanessa during the long night waiting for Becca to regain consciousness. It was difficult reliving how big of a dumbass I had been, but he insisted that the information might help the case.

  “Your mother really pushed you to rekindle your relationship with Vanessa right?” Reed directed me. “Yeah, she thought I needed to be with someone like her because of my social standing,” I answered. “When did you inherit ten million dollars?” he asked continuing to guide me. “My grandparent’s passed away during my senior year.”

  “Why didn’t your father inherit any money?” Reed asked. I thought for a moment. A long forgotten argument came to me. My mother complained after the funeral that my grandparents hated her and would never give my father the life that he deserved.

  Then my dad dropped the bomb that he had known for years he was not listed to inherit any money from his parents. Apparently
, when it was suggested he was very supportive of their choice that I inherit their estate. In fact he refused to be the executor of their will, instead he chose his best friend Ted Anderson.

  I don't know if my dad agreed with my grandparents' lawyers, but something made him turn down fighting for their estate. Something made him not want to participate in any planning of their final wishes.

  “I overheard an argument between my parents years ago. My dad told my mom if she married him hoping to get her hands on his family's millions she should hit the road. He claimed he gave up the money so she could never get her hands on it. My grandparents' lawyers thought it would put him in jeopardy of being murdered. Obviously they didn't like my mother."

  “When did you first get access to the money?” Reed probed. “I was able to access it this December after my twenty-fifth birthday. It was after Becca and I got married. I haven’t even had a chance to review all of the terms yet. I was supposed to meet with Ted to sign some papers and put Becca into my will.”

  “She isn’t in your will yet?” he asked disturbed. “She wasn’t, but I fixed that mistake waiting around at the hospital. Jeremy is a notary, from interning at the firm last summer. His dad faxed the important documents, I signed them, Jeremy notarized my signature, and I sent it back with a courier. I’ve talked to Ted, and he said that all the documents have been filed. Where is this going?” I demanded.

  “Ok, follow me on this. Your mom withdrew a large amount of money and hasn’t been heard from since the night Becca was taken. There is a text from your mother’s phone to one of the kidnappers. She had expressed bitterness in the past over not inheriting your grandparent’s money.

  She pressured you into a relationship with Vanessa Preston. George Preston is about to be forcibly removed from your father’s law firm. Your parent’s marriage is dissolving, cutting off your mother’s access to your father’s personal fortune. Despite the deterioration of your father’s relationship with George Preston, your mother seems to have maintained a close relationship with the Preston family.