“Chief, calm down. Everything is going to be all right!” he shouts. Xavier climbs into the car wide-eyed and breathing heavy. “Chief stop—” Our tires peeling out from the parking lot cover everything else Anders says. We flip around so that the front of the car is facing Anders and my dad. Xavier punches on the gas and the car lurches forward.
“Fuck!” Xavier says.
Anders and my dad are both standing and yelling at each other. The rest of the police station stands behind them motionless. My dad points his handgun at Anders head and looks over towards us. He smiles, and I see blood covering his front teeth. The sound of the gunshot echoes in my ears as Anders collapses in a heap to the ground. I look back at my dad and see him pointing a finger at me.
Cassie
Xavier finally starts the car and peels out from the parking lot. Each time the scene plays over in my head, I notice something new from the time before. But the one thing that sticks out every time is my dad’s bloody smile.
Xavier remains quiet the whole ride through town. Instead of turning right off of route 302, he heads the opposite direction from town.
I don’t ask where he’s going—I already know: New Prospect Cemetery. Cassie is buried here. When she first died, I spent the entire day talking to her headstone. After the burial, I let my parents go home without me. I didn’t cry when they read her last rights or even when we threw a handful of dirt on top of her coffin. I just stood there, waiting until I could be alone with her.
I don’t know how many times I apologized; I said it enough to make my mouth numb.
Xavier showed up around dusk and sat next to me. “I brought these for her,” he said. He laid out six day lilies on the ground. I looked at him, and I couldn’t even bring myself to say anything.
“I know you’re hurting, Hayley. ‘Cause I am too,” he said. “And my pain probably can’t be even half of what you’re feeling
right now.”
He took my hand and squeezed. “I’ll be everything and anything you need,” he said. “I love you, and you’re my best friend. You don’t have to be alone in this.”
I’m sobbing by the time we reach the cemetery. “Hayley, it’s ok,” Xavier says. He throws the car in park and wraps his arm around me. I shudder in his arms so much that he tightens his grip to the point where I can barely breathe.
“My dad just killed someone,” I scream. “How is this ok?”
“I’m sorry, Hayley.” The rush of nausea is too much. I push myself away from Xavier and start dry heaving. “Woah, woah, woah,” he says. “Slow down your breathing. Slow down, slow down.”
“He called me a murderer,” I say. Xaiver’s hand pauses momentarily on my back and then begins rubbing it again.
“Well, you’re not,” he says.
“But I killed her. So isn’t he the slightest bit right—”
“No,” he yells. “He’s not right because you know why? It was an accident. You both could’ve died that night. Who’s fault would it have been if that happened? I would’ve blamed myself, your parents would’ve blamed themselves. But you are alive, Hayley.”
He grabs me by the shoulders and turns me to face him. “You’re alive and everyday I’m more than thankful for that. So are your parents. Maybe your dad is a complete psycho right now and wants to put blame on someone, but that doesn’t it make it true.” I collapse into his chest and cry. He pulls my chin up and gently kisses my lips. Everything melts when he pulls away—everything, except for the large stone with Cassandra Henderson engraved in perfect script.
“Oh my god,” I mutter. “I can’t believe I just kissed you.”
Xavier’s eyebrows furrow. “Why not?”
I don’t really have an answer. It’s obvious to me that I’m completely in love with him, but Cassie was there looming in the back of my head. “I want to go home,” I say.
Xavier shakes his head angrily. “No way,” he says. “I’m not gonna let you off the hook that easy.”
“Xavier, please,” I beg. “Don’t you think I’ve had enough to deal with today?”
The anger melts from his face, and he releases his grip on me. “Yeah, ok,” he whispers and then drives away.
As we drive, the silence becomes nauseating. Xavier rapidly drums the steering wheel, while I try to camouflage into the passenger seat.
“Tell me the real reason why you moved to Queens," he asks. His jaw is clenched and a vein bulges from his forehead.
“Xavier—”
“No, this is my question you have to answer,” he says cutting me off. “Now.”
I look down at my fingernails. I hate confrontation, but I guess I asked for it. "I wanted to stay here when I graduated, but I couldn't because of you," I whisper.
Xavier laughs and releases his grip of the steering wheel. "And what exactly did I do to make you leave," he says.
I don't want to say it, but I was done feeling this pit in my stomach. "Because I love you," I say, my voice barely coming out as a whisper. The silence in the car makes the air stagnant. I swallow and choke down spit past the lump in my throat.
"What," he responds. His jaw isn't clenched anymore, and the vein in his forehead slowly recedes back blending into his skin perfectly.
“All the years, the laughter, school, work—everything, was because I was in love with you," I say, my voice no longer cracking with anxiety. "And when you fell in love with Cassie, it killed me. Because my sister was the only other person, other than you, who got me."
Xavier peels his gaze away from my face and reserves it for the road. This was such a stupid idea. He can't even look at me anymore.
I squeeze my fists and continue speaking regardless of my conscience screaming at me not to. “After college, I realized why I couldn't stay here, stay friends with you,” I start. I chew on my bottom lip, trying to find the right words. "I knew if I stayed, I'd be stuck. I already was. I was running in place, Xavier. Staying here meant that I would always being running and trying to move forward but never able to get anywhere. And then Cassie—"
Xavier's face turns towards mine, his blues eyes piercing me square in the chest. Her name shoved the rest of my words back down my throat.
I came home to visit during Thanksgiving. It was the first time I had seen any of my family in Pine Bush for years. The truth was, it was a fluke I even showed up. I was on my way back from a conference in Baltimore. The route I had planned to take was blocked due to construction, and I was forced to head back on Route 17. When I saw exit 119 fill my headlights, something told me I should go home. The Pine Bush on the road sign passed by quickly, and I made my way down route 302 to my house.
When I knocked on the door, I thought my mom might faint. She started crying and hugged me so tightly that I felt a rib or two pop. It felt great—not the rib part, but being home, smelling my home's signature hazelnut scent, feeling the warmth of the fireplace in the living room.
Then I saw them—Cassie and Xavier sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. I thought I had forgotten, I thought I got over him, moved forward—but I didn't.
Xavier's hand brushes my cheek, swiping away tears that roll down my cheeks. I look up and breathe out a sigh; his hand sends warmth through my blood.
"After Cassie died, I felt that with staying here, I would only being running after something I could never have. I would always be chasing after you, but you would always be just out of my reach, out of my league," I continue. My chest heaves heavily, and the tears come more freely now.
"And it wasn't fair to feel the way I did. It wasn't fair for me, it wasn't fair for Cassie, and most importantly it wasn't fair for you. I mean, how could I tell you that when you held me at her funeral that I felt complete, felt whole for once in my life. What would you have said?"
"That I did too," Xavier responds.
I laugh and stare at a stain on his jeans.
"It's true, Hayley," he says. "You were my best friend, and I had just lost
my other one way too young and way too soon. I needed you more than anything then."
I bury my face in my hands. Xavier's grip closes around my wrists and pulls them from my face. "I meant what I told you that day," he whispers. I look up at him and feel my heart pound inside my ribcage. "I'm sorry I didn't realize any of it. I feel like a horrible person and a horrible friend. But I'm here now and I won't let you feel like that anymore." He presses his lips against mine, and I melt.
We both don't pull away, and I don't mind in the least bit. I comb my fingers through his hair and grip tightly. His hands travel from my face to my lower back. We're both breathing heavy; my legs turn to jello.
"I love you," I whisper in between kissing him.
He pulls away and turns his ice gaze to my eyes. "I love you too, Hayles."
I can feel the smile spread across my face. Hearing him say it is everything that I hoped it would be. He climbs over the middle divider in the car and straddles my body on the passenger seat. I pull at the bottom of his shirt, trying to pull it off without looking foolish. His knee slips from the seat and slams into mine. I scream and grab a hold of it.
"Shit! I am so sorry," he says.
"It's ok, it's ok," I say in between breaths. "Maybe we shouldn't do this right now."
He nods his head slowly and climbs over the divider into the driver's seat. He starts the engine, and I feel a laugh boiling in my throat. Heat rushes to my face and I let one go. Xavier bursts out laughing and before I know it, I'm crying from laughing so hard.
It was the first time I laughed in months, and I wasn’t faking it in the slightest.
Fall To Pieces
We reach my parent's house and Xavier carries me out of the car. "How is your knee feeling," he asks as he climbs the steps to the front door.
"It hurts, but I think I'm ok to walk on it," I respond.
He smiles and says, "Good. ‘Cause my arms are tired." When we walk through my front door, I can tell something is wrong.
"Xavier, wait," I whisper. He looks down at me and frowns. "Something's wrong. Someone's been here."
Xavier sets me down on the bottom staircase and holds his finger to his mouth. He moves swiftly down the foyer into the kitchen and disappears around the corner. I sit in silence, straining my ears for Xavier's footsteps. A crash from the dining room makes me jump. I pull myself to my feet and move as fast as I can towards the noise.
"Xavier!" I scream. He doesn't respond. I push myself off the walls making myself move faster through the house. A gunshot echoes off the walls. "No!"
I'm running now despite the pain shooting up my leg. I slip on the kitchen floor and crash on my knees. I look back and see a pool of blood spilling from the fridge. Something falls in the dining room with a loud thud. I see a hand fall on the other side of the bookshelf.
No, oh god, please.
I crawl towards the entryway and pull myself to my feet. I limp slightly but the pain isn't as bad as I thought it would be. When I turn the corner, Xavier slouches up against the wall—a man in a police uniform is sprawled out before him, his blood seeping into the beige carpet.
"He came after me," he whispers.
“Thank god,” I say and throw my arms around him. He doesn’t return the hug, but it doesn’t matter. I thought I lost him.
“I shot him,” he mumbles. “I killed him.”
I look up at Xavier and can see the blankness in his eyes. “Hey,” I say grabbing his face. His blue eyes find my gaze. “You did what you had to. If he had killed you, I would’ve been next.” It seems to snap him out of his trance. His eyes go wide as he follows the blood on my shirt.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“There was blood everywhere in the kitchen. I slipped in it on the way here,” I say. “I’m surprised you missed it.”He pulls me to my feet and helps me walk back towards the kitchen. The darkness of the blood tells that it’s been there for a while. The puddle leads under the fridge and drips from the bottom of the door. Xavier points to the door frame while he inches towards the fridge. I lean up against wall as he grabs the fridge’s handle. The door swings open with ease and a body falls with it.
The scream catches in my throat, and I feel my stomach heave. Xavier runs over to me and tries to shield me from it, but its too late.
“Don’t look at her!” he says into my ear.
“Mom,” I mutter, over and over again.
Day Four
I wake up in my bedroom tucked neatly into the comforter. My knee is resting on a pillow with an ice pack wrapped around it. I look around the room, but don’t see Xavier anywhere. Next to me are walkie-talkies that we used to use as kids. I press the page button and hear a faint beeping coming from somewhere near the house. I lie my head down on the pillow and swallow past the cotton mouth.
The back door slides open and then shuts. I can hear the latch close along with the blinds quickly after. “Xavier,” I try to call out, but my voice comes out hoarse.
“It’s me,” he says at the bottom of the staircase. I push myself up in bed and swipe my bangs out of my face. “I left some tea in the thermos behind your head.”
“Thanks,” I whisper. I reach for the thermos and take a long drink.
“Couldn’t find anything out in the woods. It’s bone dry,” he says placing his hand on top of mine. It’s been like this since my mother was murdered. Nothing but silence and occasionally a rabbit that will cross through my front yard.
“We have to leave, don’t we?” I whisper. Xavier squeezes my hand and nods his head.
“I needed you rested and at least half with it before we did,” he says. My bottom lip trembles, but I bite down on it.
“Any sign of my dad out there?”
He looks up at me and sighs. “Let’s talk about it on the road.” Xavier helps me down the stairs, but I insist on walking to the car by myself. He nods and heads back inside my paren—my house to grab the rest of our stuff. It’s still uncomfortably silent outside, but right now, it’s the only thing I look forward to. I lean against the car and let my head rest against the cool glass of the window.
My mom is dead. My mom is dead. My mom is dead—nope still hasn’t hit me yet.
Everything with Xavier and I worked itself out just minutes before and of course, it all comes crumbling down. My twin’s dead, my mother’s dead and I don’t even know if I care anymore, but my father probably is too. The only real thing I have left is Xavier.
I’m an orphan, but for some reason, it doesn’t really bother me. Maybe it’s because I’m still going through shock, but I think living away from everyone in the city got me prepared for this exact moment.
The front doors slams shut, and Xavier comes out with two backpacks and a duffle bag. He opens the door for me, and I climb in despite the dull throbbing in my knee. He throws the bags in the trunk and closes the hatch allowing for the electronic motor to do the rest of the work. I stare at the blank siding of my house and feel the slightest bit of sadness, but it washes away once it pans out of view. We drive up my road towards route 302 in a heavy silence.
“Where are we gonna go?” I ask watching the trees fly by.
“There was a broadcast earlier while you were asleep,” Xavier starts. He fumbles with the buttons in the car and the radio finally clicks on.
“Attention: If you are within the counties of Orange, Ulster or Sullivan, please head towards Arden Hill Hospital. The United States National Guard will by airlifting any survivors to Fort Ticonderoga.” He clicks off the radio and looks my way.
“Survivors,” I ask. “What do they mean survivors?”
“Something really bad did happen, Hayles,” he says turning right at the top of my road. “I don’t know if it was some type of terrorist attack or biological warfare, but I didn’t see one person in town. Not one. And that never happens—ever.”
I nod my head in agreement. But the broadcast doesn’t leave me with a good, safe feeling in m
y gut. It feels like something much, much worse is down the road.
“Did you kill my father,” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Did he—did he kill my mom?” I whisper, partly knowing the answer before he says it.
“It’s complicated, Hayles,” he starts. I wince at the nickname; my dad used to call me that all the time too. “I saw your father on the road while you were sleeping. He wasn’t himself and there was blood down the front of his shirt. I—” Xavier combs his fingers through his thick hair and breathes out through his mouth.
“I tried to talk to him, but he—he wasn’t making any sense. And then he just lunged at me when I tried to take him back towards the house.”
I look up at him and can see his eyes are bloodshot. “Xavier,” I start, but honestly, I don’t know what to say. I reach for his hand and lay my palm on top of his skin. He squeezes my fingertips gently.
“I didn’t mean to take everything away from you,” he says. “I feel like an apology isn’t even good enough.”
He reaches in his pocket with his free hand and holds out my mother’s locket that she wore since she was a kid. “You’re father had this in his hands before I—um—I got most of the blood off it,” he says handing me the necklace.
I take it from his hand and open it. The picture of my grandfather and grandmother at their wedding is next to my mother and father’s photo. “My father would have wanted Cassie to have this,” I say. “He wanted me dead.” I hold the weathered golden heart by the chain and feel nothing but a sharp pain in my chest.
“Don’t say that,” Xavier says. He’s crying, I can hear it in his voice, but I don’t look up at him. We drive towards Route 17 in silence; Xavier doesn’t let go of my hand.
Two Weeks Later
Johnny Cash? Really? I peek out of the corner of my eyes to see Xavier nodding his head in time with the song—next to him I know is my dad’s 9MM. “You are the biggest cliche I’ve ever seen in my life right now,” I mumble. “Listening to Folsom Prison Blues with a gun in the cup holder?”
Burn Our Houses Down [Book One] Page 6