Cut Me Free

by J. R. Johansson

  He nods and waits. I know he’ll give me as much time as I need so long as I don’t run. But this is like being hurt by the Parents. All I can do is hope it’s over fast and deal with the damage later.

  “You remember, I told you about the Parents, the attic, and my brother?” My voice shakes so much I’m not sure how he can possibly understand it, but he nods and I see a flare of anger in his eyes. This time when I speak, it comes out stronger, easier. “I didn’t tell you everything.”

  I lower my gaze to the table and wrap my fingers around his in an effort to siphon some strength from them before plowing forward. “I didn’t simply run away. I escaped. They’d never have let me go, not until I was dead. I’d seen that already with my brother. So, I killed them … before they could kill me.”

  The room around us is as silent as a grave. Minutes pass before he finally responds.

  “You killed your parents?”

  “If you can call them that, yes.” Pure, stony hatred trickles from my voice and I can’t miss the way Cam jerks back a little when I speak.

  Get it all out now and see what happens. He has to know everything today. It’s the only way. “That’s not all. I had to do the same to save Sanda.”

  “Had to?” His voice is barely a whisper, like it doesn’t have enough air to strive for anything louder.

  “He tried to hurt me and I didn’t let him.”

  Cam’s hand has gone limp in mine. No longer holding, comforting—an unwilling participant in my grasp. I let go and his hand drops to the table. He doesn’t move.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.” It doesn’t even sound like Cam. His voice is low and foreign. “You’re telling me you killed people. How am I supposed to respond to that?”

  “You don’t have to say anything. I promised to tell you everything and I have.” I dredge up the courage to look in his eyes and wish I hadn’t. Twin walls hide every emotion from me, everything but the pain. “Now you know why I ran when you told me about your father. I knew you’d feel the same about me.”

  Confusion rises to the surface for only a moment, before he shoves it back behind his carefully constructed barricade. “I don’t know. I’m going to need some time.”

  “Don’t worry. This is why I told you it wouldn’t work.” I hear the tremble in my voice and hate myself for showing him that weakness. I’d set aside my greatest rule for him: people can’t be trusted. I shouldn’t have let him get so close. Now my heart is drowning in the painful aftermath of my mistake. “If you decide to go to the police, I can’t blame you, but I won’t wait around for them to show up.”

  “I won’t.” His shoulders slump forward and his eyes drop back to his empty hand still resting on the wooden tabletop.

  I believe him. With his hobbies, he doesn’t need the police poking around in his business either. Still, it’s hard to focus on anything when I’m thoroughly shattered inside.

  Pulling my shoulders back, I shove my composure into place before I’m even on my feet. My voice is subzero. I’m surprised it doesn’t lower the temperature of the air around me. “You won’t hear from me again, but I thought, after everything, you at least deserved an explanation.”

  He gets to his feet but doesn’t say a word as I walk to the door and let myself out into the night.

  I stop on the way home and buy a new prepaid cell phone, only pausing to add in Janice’s number. It’s the only one from my old phone I plan to use or hear from in the future. Then I drop my old one in the garbage and keep walking.

  You are good, Piper. Don’t believe someone who says you’re not.

  Sam’s words are more than I can take. Before I get home, before Sanda is there to see it, I stop on a quiet path between two brownstones and lean against an old brick wall for support. My fingers find the mortar cracks between the bricks. I trace them with my fingertips, using them to keep me upright. The wall still radiates warmth from the sun even though it’s long past sunset. I try to soak it in, to absorb the life and strength of this city through my skin. It breathed life into me when I got here. I need it to save me again. Minutes stretch as I stand in the shadows of skyscrapers, trying to wrap my head around how small I really am … even when the rip through my heart seems impossibly large.

  19

  Sanda walks silently beside me. The grocery bag she carries is as big as she is, but I resist the urge to take it. Determination fills her eyes, and I know she’ll be happy when she makes it home without help. A pang of guilt fills me as we walk past the street with Jessie’s Studio and Sanda stares at it longingly. She shouldn’t be punished for my mistakes, but I can’t go back. Not now.

  I’ll find someone else to teach us to protect ourselves. Preferably someone more like Jessie and less like … I flinch at even thinking his name. It still hurts too much, but the last few days away from him have replaced a bit of the pain with a healthy dose of anger. He’d pushed, pleaded, and begged me to tell him. Even after I said it was something he didn’t really want to know. It’s as much his fault as mine.

  As we round the corner to the apartment, the bag slips from Sanda’s fingers and falls with a thud at her feet. I’m grateful I’d decided to let her take the bag with bread and cheese instead of anything breakable. She stands frozen, and I crouch to pick it up.

  “It’s fine. No big deal,” I say, holding the bag out in front of her, but she is looking past me toward our building. I turn my head and see Cam sitting on our front steps. He gives a wave and Sanda’s gaze rises to meet mine.

  “Should we run?” She places one small hand on mine. “We can come home later.”

  Sanda is too perceptive. I hadn’t told her anything except that I quit my job and we weren’t taking lessons from Cam anymore. I must not have been hiding my emotions the last couple of days as well as I’d hoped.

  “No,” I say, as she takes the fallen bag from my fingertips. “He shouldn’t be here.”

  We walk the final half a block to our house and I try to rein in my emotions.

  “Hi, Sanda.” Cam’s smile is wide below the sunglasses hiding his eyes. “I missed you guys in class today.”

  Sanda looks at him and back to me, then sneaks up the stairs past him and into our building entrance without a word.

  Cam sighs and his shoulders hunch forward in defeat. “Can I help with your bags?”

  He shoves his glasses up onto his head, and what I see in his eyes surprises me. It’s desperation, a driving need. I shake off the way my heart beats faster and step around him. “No, thank you. We’ve got this.”

  “Let me—” Cam wraps his fingers around my arm as I pass and I jerk it out of his grasp.

  “I said no.” Anguish radiates from the skin where his fingers touched, and it twists my soul. It hurts worse than any burn.

  “I need five minutes, please.” He speaks low and soft, and no matter how angry I am, I can’t deny him when he sounds this upset. But I almost do when I realize how badly I want it, too.

  I mumble in response, “Let me take these upstairs.”

  Sanda waits for me in the entryway. She watches me with growing concern as we climb the inside stairs together, go into our apartment, and put the groceries down on the counter. As I turn back toward the door, she finally speaks. “You don’t have to. You told me that. You never have to.”

  I stand in the doorway but don’t turn around. “I know.”

  “B-but I’m happy you are.”

  Looking over my shoulder, I see her studying her feet in discomfort.

  “Why?”

  She glances at me and the corner of her mouth curves up. “You smile with him.”

  I lean my head against the doorframe and try to find an argument against that. Finally, I just shrug and open the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  Taking the stairs two at a time so I won’t be tempted to turn around, slam the door, and throw my seven locks into place, I gear myself up to dive straight in and get this over with. He wants to talk? Fine, we’ll talk.


  He’s still on the front steps when I come down and he’s not even on his feet before I’m talking.

  “What do you want? Why are you here?”

  Cam turns to face me and his jaw is set, but his emotions are exposed in his eyes. I look away. I don’t want to see what he’s feeling, not anymore.

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “So talk. We’re talking.” My hands are on my hips and I have to focus on relaxing my grip so I don’t give myself bruises.

  “Yeah, some of us are doing so rather rapidly.” Cam shakes his head and steps in front of the tree I’m staring at, but I turn away and he growls under his breath. “Look at me, Piper.”

  The sound of his lips speaking my real name feels so intimate I flinch. We’re alone and this time it isn’t an accident. It’s more like a secret shared between the two of us.

  “No,” I say.

  “Why not? Are you afraid?” I recognize his taunt, but it gives my anger an outlet and I raise my chin and glare at him.

  “No.” I see a jumble of emotions in his expression and wonder if mine is the same. Then I really see him. Dark circles under his eyes make him appear empty and sad. His cheeks seem a little thinner.

  He glares at me. “Why not? I sure as hell am.”

  My stomach falls to my feet and I’m surprised it isn’t audible. The words to respond come slow, each one slicing on the way out. “If you’re afraid of me, you shouldn’t have come.”

  He blinks and shakes his head. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “I don’t understand.” I slump down on the top stair. The anger drains and is replaced with pain. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I don’t scare as easily as you think I do.” He sits beside me, but pivots so he can face me. “And you aren’t answering my phone calls again. Or did you ditch the phone?”

  I can’t listen to him. I refuse to let this go any further. Opening myself up like that again isn’t worth the pain I’m still struggling under. Remember the rule: people can’t be trusted.

  “You don’t need to call me anyway.” Raising my eyes to his, I try to convey how serious I am. “This is done. We don’t need you anymore.”

  He flinches but doesn’t turn away. “You do, but more than that, Sanda does.”

  This time I can’t meet his eyes. “She needs me.”

  “Yes, but she needs me, too.” He turns his entire body until he’s leaning against the railing and watching me. “What if someone else tries to hurt her?”

  “There are other places we can go.”

  “Where the self-defense instructor will understand what she’s been through?” Cam frowns. “You going to explain her scars to anyone else?”

  “Never.” It comes out so fast and hard that it hurts when my teeth clamp shut after.

  “Exactly.” He leans forward. “If you won’t let me help you, don’t stop me from helping her.”

  My head falls forward, and I hate that he’s right. It takes a full minute for me to find the ability to say it out loud. “Fine.”

  I turn toward him and wait until I have his full attention. “You need to know, nothing has changed. We will both come to you for lessons. Nothing else.”

  Cam’s triumphant expression falters a little. “Charlotte—”

  “No. It’s a deal breaker. Remember those? The last one you forced on me ruined everything.” My words come out more bitter than I intend, but I don’t care.

  “It did no—”

  “Do you agree or not?” I get to my feet and wait. “That’s all I need to know.”

  “Yes.” He stands up and dusts off his jeans.

  I nod and walk back up the stairs without another word. As the door is about to close behind me I hear him finish.

  “For now.”

  * * *

  Cam lowers his hands and rises out of a defensive position. I don’t know how long he’s been staring at me like that.

  “What are you doing?” I drop my stance and roll my shoulders back, trying to relieve the boulder-size knot at the base of my neck.

  “No. What are you doing?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Either you aren’t paying any attention, or I’m not as good a teacher as I thought.” He grabs his towel off the wall and turns with a grin. “And I know it isn’t the second.”

  “I’m tired.” Taking a drink from my water bottle, I glance over at Sanda. She’s kicking and punching the bag in the corner like her life depends on it.

  I can only hope it doesn’t.

  I’ve spent the last couple of nights trying to figure out who sent me the box. I’ve decided to stay and fight for a real life, but it’s hard to fight back if you don’t know your enemy. A shiver runs down my spine from thinking about it. Cam said it wasn’t him. It could be Lily, but why? She must’ve told Gino about Sanda, what else did she tell him? Could they be trying to scare me? I ponder the message in the lid, I know your secret. That doesn’t make much sense with Lily either. What little she knows about me isn’t threatening. But besides Lily and Cam, who would call me Piper?

  He taps on the bottom of my bottle until my eyes return to him. The smile is gone. “I’ve seen you tired. Come on. This is more than that.”

  I take my time with the drink, trying to come up with the right response. When I notice the water sloshing in my bottle because my hand won’t stop shaking, I bring it down.

  Denial. Always a solid option. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He lowers his chin and waits, obviously not buying it. “Yeah, right. You can talk to me. You can’t want to do this by yourse—”

  “Remember our deal.”

  He growls through gritted teeth, “You certainly won’t let me forget.”

  I drop back into my stance and wait, refusing to be baited.

  Cam follows my lead, but I can see from the muscle twitching in his cheek that he doesn’t like this one bit. Too bad. He dives for my arm, but I’m out of reach in plenty of time. I come close to stomp on his foot, but he reaches around me from behind so I throw my weight into my elbow and hurl it toward his stomach as hard as I can. Seeing it coming, he releases me and jumps back before it lands.

  Sweat runs down my neck, but I continue with a vengeance. This is the perfect outlet for my frustration and anger. If I don’t look in Cam’s eyes, I can pretend he’s someone else. Someone who wants to hurt me and hurt Sanda. There is no way I’m going to let that happen.

  By the time we finish I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. We hurry out, ignoring Cam’s request to let him walk us home. Between the last few nights of disjointed, nightmare-filled sleep and the extensive workout Cam just put me through, it takes all my energy to keep placing one foot in front of the other. Sanda walks as silent as a ghost behind me up the stairs. When we reach the landing, she grabs my hand and jerks me down toward her.

  “What happened to our door?” When I see the fear in her eyes, my pulse races.

  “What?” My eyes whip up. Long scratches have taken off paint along the side of the door around the lock. Some of the wood is chipped and cracked and the locks themselves are banged up.

  Only one word escapes my lips.

  “No.”

  20

  Adrenaline pounds through my veins. I’m more awake than I’ve felt in days, but I take a deep breath and stay calm for Sanda. “I’m going to take you down to play with Rachel for a few minutes while I check this out, okay?”

  Sanda nods, but her eyes are glued to the scratches on the door.

  “Come on. Everything will be okay.”

  Her fingers squeeze mine. “I want to stay with you, Charlotte.”

  I draw her into a tight hug. “You will. It will only be a few minutes. I promise.”

  It seems to take forever to explain the situation to Janice.

  “Oh, dear,” Janice says. Her hand flutters back and forth before she places it on her chest. “You think someone broke in?”

  �
�It looks like someone tried to, but I don’t think they got inside. Have you seen anyone today?”

  “No. We went school shopping for Rachel and just got home.” Janice picks up a phone off the table. “Do you want me to call someone?”

  “No,” I say a little too quickly, and then cover it with a smile. “Like I said, I don’t think they got inside. At best, they dinged up my door a little. Not worth bothering anyone about.”

  She inclines her head but seems troubled. I’m not sure if she meant Cam or the police, but I’m thinking Cam. From what I know about her history, Janice probably doesn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than I do.

  I look over and see Rachel showing Sanda some new school outfits, but Sanda’s eyes are on me.

  “Thanks. I’ll be quick.” I stare straight at Janice and whisper, “Lock the locks, just in case.” And I don’t move until she gives me a firm nod.

  I walk up the stairs and pull out my keys, gripping them tight in my palm so they make little noise. The air feels colder up here. Unlocking each one quietly is agonizingly slow. For the first time ever, I wish there were fewer locks. Finally, the door swings open wide and I leave it that way.

  If I scream this time, I want to be certain someone will hear me.

  Moving into the room, I plaster my body against the wall to the left and slide along it toward the nearest shelf. Gripping a metal bookend tight in one hand, I take a deep breath as I wait for my eyes to adjust. As soon as I can see clearly, I move around the living room with swift fluidity, but find no one.

  My step is soft and silent as I move, straining to hear any noise in the rooms around me. In my mind, I repeat pieces of Nana’s poem.

  It will rise in perfect light … It will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

  The street outside seems louder in the quiet. I hear nothing else. I check behind the couch, in the coat closet, and make my way down the hall to my bedroom. Then I see it. The window on the door to the fire escape is broken—still only two locks. I curse under my breath. With everything else going on, I’d forgotten to add more that couldn’t be reached through the window.