by B. B. Hamel
Instead, he doesn’t touch me. Slowly, I look up at him, and there’s a strange look on his face. It’s half pity, half disgust.
“Get up,” he says. “Come on, I didn’t push you that hard. Get up.”
I climb slowly to my feet, brushing myself off.
“Okay, you’re okay,” he says to me. “You’re fine. I barely touched you, okay?”
I nod at him, not saying a word, still terrified that he’ll snap. The mask is back up, covering the demon that hides beneath, but I know it’s there now. I know it’ll come back out, and eventually it’ll stay out.
I made a horrible, horrible mistake.
He takes me by the hand and we head back to his car. He walks again, this time hurriedly, almost manic, trying to pretend like he didn’t throw me violently to the ground. But we both know it happened, and we both know what it means.
It means that if I keep this up and marry him, I’m in for a life of abuse.
We get into his car and he drives me home. He drops me off and doesn’t try to kiss me again, which I’m thankful for. He watches as I go inside, and then drives off.
When he’s gone, I wave to the nurse, but I have to run into the bathroom upstairs.
I puke my guts up. All that expensive wine and food comes up in waves, and I’m shaking in a cold sweat. I keep seeing that face, that horrible expression on Caleb’s face as he threw me to the ground. My life with him flashes before my eyes, and I know nothing is worth that.
I finish getting sick and lean back against the tub. There’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I say weakly.
The nurse steps in. I don’t recognize her. “You okay, honey?”
“I’m okay,” I say. “Just something I ate.”
“Should I stay?”
I shake my head. “No, please. Go home. I’ll be okay.”
“He ate. He’s down in front of the television.” She frowns. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m sure.” I smile weakly. “I’m done getting sick. I promise.”
She nods, clearly concerned, but turns and leaves. I flush the toilet and wash my mouth out with cold water. I brush my teeth and splash water on my face.
I glance down at myself then pull my phone from my pocket. Without thinking, I call Lucas.
I know it’s unfair. It’s fucked up. I’m a terrible, terrible person, but I’m so afraid. I did this to myself, and I don’t deserve him, but I need to talk to someone. I can’t talk to Jordan and I can’t talk to my father. Lucas is the only person in this world who cares about me, and I’m afraid I fucked that up.
He doesn’t answer. It’s probably better this way. I put my phone back in my pocket and take a deep breath.
I look into the mirror and don’t love what I see.
I meant well. I wanted to help my father and the preserve, but I made a horrible, horrible mistake.
And now I’ll pay the price.
I leave the bathroom and head downstairs to take care of my father.
19
Lucas
When Mia calls, I don’t answer.
I just can’t. Not yet, at least. I know there’s probably some good explanation for why she got into that car with Caleb, but I just don’t think I’m ready to hear it right now. I still feel angry and hurt, and I’m afraid that I’ll say something that I’ll regret.
Because I still want her. Despite everything, I still want her. I can’t just turn that part of myself off, even though I wish I could. I want to pretend like none of this happened and move on from her, but I just can’t.
I keep seeing her smiling face, radiant in the beautiful afternoon sun. I keep feeling her skin, tasting her lips, hearing her laugh.
I put Noah to bed and Alice turns in early, leaving me alone in the house. The baby monitor sits next to me but Noah is fast asleep as I sip my whisky, staring at the television, trying not to think.
I should probably get some sleep. Midnight rolls around, and I’m still awake, drinking my second and final whisky. I can’t have any more and risk getting drunk, not with Noah in my life. I wish I could drink the whole fucking bottle and forget how I feel, turn it all off, but I can’t be that man. It’s time for me to be better.
As I’m sitting there, contemplating bed, I hear something. There’s a noise outside. It’s a car door slamming, and nearby. Two more car doors slam shut, and I hear voices.
The voices get closer and closer, and I think I recognize one of them. Suddenly, I hear a smashing noise on the front porch.
Adrenaline spikes through me. I quickly get up, run into my bedroom, and get my spare gun from my bureau. I make sure it’s loaded before running back out front.
The voices are still there and there’s more smashing noises. It sounds like they’re breaking everything we have out there, chairs included. I walk to the window and peer out slowly.
I quickly recoil and curse. It’s fucking Dylan Carter and two of his fucking friends. I flip on the porch light and the noise stops. Carefully, I open the front door.
Dylan Carter is standing there, a sick smile on his face.
“Think you could get away with it, asshole?” he says. His friends grin behind him.
“Not sure what you mean.” I grip the gun behind my back.
“Come on, pussy, you really going to pretend like you didn’t slash my fucking tires?” I can see the unhinged anger in his eyes.
So maybe I was wrong about the cameras. “You should leave,” I say to him.
“We fucking saw you, asshole. You’re lucky we’re not going to the cops. You understand that? You fucking owe me new tires.”
“I don’t owe you shit.” It’s actually surprising that he’s not going to the police. I wonder what’s holding him back.
“You think you’re fucking great, don’t you?” Dylan asks, his voice low and menacing. “Big bad Navy SEAL back home and ready to be the cool guy in town again. But guess what, asshole? You’re nothing. You’re a fly under my fucking boot.”
“Get off my porch,” I say to him again.
“Come outside, you fucking pussy,” he says. “Come out and fight us. You got lucky last time, but you don’t have anybody here to help you.”
I want to do it. I want to go out there and beat the fucking hell out of these three assholes. I know I could do it, too. I fought them once before.
But I’m being a better man. I’m growing up. I’m an adult now and a father. Mia’s words again, ringing in my ears.
So I open the screen door and point my gun in Dylan’s fucking face.
He freezes instantly. His cocky grin is replaced by total abject horror. One of his friends bolts, running as fast as he can away.
“Some friend,” I say to Dylan. “Just left you here to die.”
“Jesus man. It’s just a chair. I’ll replace it.” He’s shaking.
“Listen to me, Dylan. Leave me alone. And leave Mia alone while you’re at it.”
“Whatever you want,” he says. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just let us go.”
“Next time, I’ll kill you. I’ve killed before and I won’t hesitate. Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” he says.
I lower my gun slightly. “Run away now.”
He turns and bolts back to his car. His braver or stupider friend follows him. They get in and drive off.
I sigh, putting my gun in my jeans and looking at the mess on the porch. I straighten it up a little bit, but I’ll fix it all in the morning. I walk over to the driveway and groan when I find all of the tires on our cars are slashed.
Fucking stupid. What a goddamn dumb move to make on my part. I should never have gone to the Carter house. I should have known better. Of course they had cameras, just because I didn’t spot them didn’t mean they weren’t there. They probably have a state of the art system, one I’m not trained to see.
Now our tires are slashed, and that’s not going to be cheap to fix. Alice is going to be pissed.
I check m
y watch. I can go back inside, get a few hours sleep, and then call a tow truck in the morning. I don’t have enough spares to change all four. I’ll get both cars towed, tires changed, and hopefully have them back by the morning. If not, we’re taking the bus to work. And Alice is going to be livid.
I groan and head back inside. I glance down at my phone at the missed call from Mia and wonder what the fuck I’ve gotten myself into. I should be more worried, but oddly enough I’m just happy that she decided to call me. After all this, she still wants to talk to me.
Maybe it’s stupid, since she’s bringing so much trouble into my life, but I can’t help it. Truth is, I’ve instigated a lot of this shit. She wanted me to back off and I ignored her warnings, so I deserve some of this.
I just have to be better. And hope that she’s not lost to me completely.
20
Mia
My life is a freaking mess and I have nobody to blame but myself. I know it, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
I’m still stuck in this position.
I’m gloomy all day at work. The sun is shining, the preserve is surprisingly busy, but I can’t seem to enjoy anything right now. I should relax and let go, try and forget about my problems for a few hours, but I just can’t.
Caleb keeps calling while I’m at work, reminding me about all this crap as soon as I manage to forget about it. I’m probably not doing myself any favors by ignoring his calls, but I can’t help myself.
That date was horrible. I had hoped that maybe I was just exaggerating everything and being dramatic, but I wasn’t. Caleb is genuinely an awful person and being around him makes me feel sick, absolutely sick. I’m sure he could take care of me and my father, and probably give me a life with more than I could ever dream of, but I don’t want that life.
It’s a life devoid of happiness. Joy isn’t found in things and status. I used to think that making a lot of money and being rich would make me happy, but I’m beginning to realize that it’s only a distraction from the important things.
Family, friends, following your passion, those are the things that mean something to me. Marrying a man like Caleb would basically mean I’d be sacrificing all of those things in order to get some stuff and some money.
I can see what that sort of power can do to a person. I see it in Caleb every day. He has so much money, was given so much in his life, and now he’s this twisted person that expects everything from the world and looks down at others. I don’t ever want to be like that.
Success in business, lots of money, none of that stuff guarantees happiness. It doesn’t even guarantee that you’re a good or smart person.
I don’t want that world. I want to get as far from it as possible, in fact, which is why I keep dodging Caleb’s calls.
I can only imagine what he’s going to do when I really decide to go back on this deal. He’ll probably really lose it and scare the hell out of me, I bet. I’m afraid to tell him, but I know that I have to. I can’t let myself sacrifice my entire life with Caleb.
Maybe the preserve will be destroyed. That’s not definitely. It might survive somehow. Heck, I could marry him, have his kids, and the preserve would get bulldozed ten years later by someone else with even more money. I can’t control the world and I can’t give up everything I am and believe in for something that may or may not happen.
As the day wears on, I keep thinking about Caleb, but my resolve strengthens. I know that I’m going to back out of the deal and tell him the truth at the first opportunity I get. I’m afraid of what he’ll do, but I’m through with being all wishy-washy about this. I can’t let this man bully me anymore.
The day drags on and finally the last guests start to filter out. Laura and I close up the preserve as the sun slowly sets, and I head out around six that night. I’m running a little late, and I’m sure his day nurse is annoyed, but I’ll tip her big time. Or at least as big as I can.
I hurry home and as I pull into the driveway, I’m surprised by what I see.
The car in the driveway definitely is not the nurse’s usual car. In fact, I recognize it, but I can’t imagine that I’m right.
It’s Caleb’s car. Big and dark and expensive, as I climb out and take a look, I know I’m not mistaken.
Shock registers through my system. If Caleb’s car is here and the nurse’s is gone, that means he’s inside alone with my father.
I run to the front door, panicking, heart hammering. Does he know? Does he know that I planned on leaving him and breaking our deal? The most horrifying thoughts race through my mind. Maybe he’s in there hurting my father, doing something awful to him. I wouldn’t forgive myself if my father were in danger and it’s all because of my stupid decisions.
I throw open the door and burst into my house. I have my phone in my hand, 9-1-1 already dialed just in case, heart hammering.
My father is sitting in his chair, watching TV. He doesn’t look up as I come in. I run over to his side, crouching down. “Dad, are you okay?” I say to him.
He glances at me for a second before looking back at the TV.
I look over his body. He seems totally fine, normal in fact. I stand up slowly, phone still in my hand.
“Caleb?” I call out.
He appears in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling. “You’re home,” he says.
“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss at him, moving into the kitchen. He follows me, smiling and drying his hands off with a towel.
“Well, I was making spaghetti.” He nods toward the stove where there are a couple pots. I can smell the food cooking.
“No, I mean, why are you here?”
“You weren’t home when I arrived and the nurse looked like she wanted to get out of here. So I sent her home.”
I gaped at him. “You can’t do that. You can’t just come in here.”
“Sure, I can,” he says, smiling. “I own you now, remember?”
I take a step back, my eyes wide. “No,” I say.
“Come on, Mia. What did you think this was? I’m not going to hurt your fucking retarded Dad.”
“He’s not retarded,” I spit at him. “He has Alzheimer’s. You sick asshole. And don’t say that word.”
“What, retarded?” He laughs. “Whatever, Alzheimer’s, retarded, I don’t care.”
Real fear jolts through me. He glances down at the phone in my hand and cocks his head to one side. “What are you doing?” he asks me.
“Nothing.” I quickly put my phone into my pocket.
He watches me for a second before smiling again. “You should be happy I’m here. I did you a favor. And now I’m cooking you dinner.”
“I don’t want your food,” I say. “And my dad can’t have spaghetti. He might choke.”
He stares at me, his face going blank. “That’s very rude of you, Mia.”
“It’s very rude of you to barge in here like this. Seriously, Caleb, it’s really creepy.”
“Creepy?” He laughs. “I don’t give a fuck. You agreed to my deal, which means I can do whatever I want with you.”
I stare at him for a second, pulse pounding in my ears. This is my moment, but I’m so afraid. I’m a freaking coward, I realize. Caleb is terrifying and creepy and dangerous, and I need to end this with him right now, but I’m afraid. He might try to hurt me or my father.
But I got us into this and it’s up to me to get us out. I have to be brave and step up. Maybe I would have rolled over and let him do this to me at one point in my life, but I’m stronger now, and I’m starting to learn what I really want out of life.
“I don’t want your deal,” I say to him softly.
“What’s that?” He grins at me. “I didn’t hear you.”
“The deal is off,” I say more loudly, standing up straight. “I don’t want anything to do with you, Caleb. Get out of my house, get out of my life, and leave me alone.”
I take a deep breath, keeping my face serious. I feel good about myself that I just stood up to him. He cocks
his head at me, looking at me strangely, but I’m not backing down. I know I’m in the right here.
He steps toward me, his face suddenly totally blank. “Why did you have Lucas beat up my brother?” he asks.
I blink at him, surprised. “What?”
“Your little pet, Lucas. He nearly killed my brother. Why would you do that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, and I feel that icy chill of fear run down my spine again.
“You fucking bitch.” He starts walking toward me, and I just turn and run.
He comes after me.
“You dumb fucking bitch!” he screams, rage on his face. “You hurt my brother, you and your fucking pussy friend Lucas. You can’t get out of this deal, you goddamn whore. I fucking own you!” His eyes are wide and the rage on his face terrifies me.
I run from him. He chases me through the living room, around the coffee table, and back through the kitchen. I manage to get past him again as he screams at me, insult after insult, each one worse than the next. I run for the front door, heart hammering, not knowing what to do. I’m afraid he’s going to kill me and my father, and I want to lead him outside.
I throw the door open and get out onto the front porch. But he catches up with me, grabs my arms, and spins me around.
“You stupid cunt!” he screams, and backhands me across the face.
Pain flares up as I fall to the ground. He stares down at me, anger twisting his face into a mask of horror.
“You’re dead,” he says to me.
And I believe him.
21
Lucas
I feel like a damn stalker, but I can’t help myself.
It’s around six o’clock and I’m sitting outside of Mia’s house, parked in the street, debating whether or not I want to go inside and talk to her.
I don’t recognize one of the cars in her driveway, and I assume it’s the nurse. I keep telling myself I’ll wait until the nurse leaves, and then go talk to Mia, but I don’t know what I’m really going to do.