by Lucy Ivey
Before Justin was able to attack him, Joe lunged himself at his brother. His punches were powerful, knocking Justin to the ground. He would not stop until his brother was lifeless under him. He couldn’t. He knew Justin’s capabilities, had witnessed them in the past. He was witnessing them now.
I turned my head away as Joe wrapped his hands around his brother’s neck. Slowly, I raised my hands over my ears to drown out Joe’s voice telling his brother he was the one who was going to finish this, and the choking noise Justin was making as his brother squeezed tighter.
I kept my eyes shut, knowing Joe was killing Justin because he was choosing to save me.
Chapter 25
Without Him
Voices surrounded me. Some of them were deep and close by, while others were loud and off in the distance. I had no idea where I was or what was going on.
Where am I?
Then immediately, Where is he?
I slowly opened my eyes. The blue and red dancing colors on the wall ahead were interrupted by the blurry figures of strangers walking in front of them. I needed to focus my eyes. I needed to sit up and find out what was happening. But as I tried to adjust myself to sit up, the pain I felt was excruciating. I winced and took in a deep breath as I reached out for my knee. I looked down at the stack of couch pillows elevating my leg, and that’s when I saw him sitting beside me. Even sleeping, he looked exhausted. He looked as if he had been crying all night. He probably had been.
His face was so beautiful.
I tried moving again and another painful wince escaped my lips.
“Hold on,” he whispered. He stood up quickly and adjusted the pillow beneath my knee. “They’re going to take you to the hospital.”
I was afraid to look at him. I wasn’t sure what I would see when I looked into his eyes. There would be pain and most likely, regret. I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing him that way, but he was waiting for me to look at him. I could feel his eyes on me. And when I finally met his stare, he began to cry.
“I’m so sorry, Karley,” he whispered without hesitation. “I am so very sorry.”
I reached my hand up to his face and touched his cheek gently.
How could he be sorry for saving my life?
How could he apologize to me after all he’d done for me?
His words didn’t make sense to me.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“I should have protected you better … it never should have gotten this far.”
“Joe, please don’t,” I whispered softly running my hand down his face.
He bent forward as the tears continued to fall from his eyes and laid his head in my lap. I ran my fingers through his soft, brown hair listening to his quiet sobbing.
When he finally lifted his head, the tears had stopped and he stared into my eyes for a long time without speaking. As a small, weak smile crept across his face, he ran his hand down my cheek and traced his fingers across my jaw. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead before he sat back down in his chair.
I reached my hand out to him. He took it in his, kissing it softly as he closed his eyes holding it against his warm face. There was no need to talk. No words could describe how we were feeling. We sat hand in hand in silence, each of us letting the warm tears fall.
After a few minutes, the surrounding sounds of the house returned and were clear.
The sea of cops and men dressed in suits, probably more cops, were gathered in small circles throughout the living room. I saw Sherriff Brady talking to a man near the front door. Every once in a while, his pudgy face would turn and look in our direction with sympathetic eyes before looking away again and continuing his conversation. I watched him slowing walk over to the window and wipe the sweat off his brow. His stare was disciplined and patient, standing alone.
“Joe,” I whispered, finally breaking the silence between us as I took another slow look around our home invaded with strangers. “What’s going on?”
“It’s over.”
I looked back at him immediately, knowing the meaning of the words that were broken as he spoke them.
He’s dead.
I wanted to cry.
I wanted to see him.
I wanted to know why he did all of this to us … to everyone.
I could feel the tremble in my body rush from my lips to my toes like a domino effect as my eyes quickly scanned the room for him. I needed to know where he was. I needed to know he wasn’t coming for me again. My throat tightened and I felt a suffocating heaviness in my chest when I saw the white sheet at the bottom of the staircase. My body fell still.
It stood out—alone—against the dark, wooden floor.
His beautiful, lifeless body lay under it.
Everything he told me had been a lie and yet I still cried knowing he was gone.
I stared at it, waiting for it to move, waiting for my heart to start beating again, but as the seconds passed neither happened. Finally, air began to hit my lungs with a dozen little punches. I had to look away. My eyes found Joe again. He was still staring at me.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. My tears refused to fall.
His understanding eyes explained the silence between us was enough.
He held my hand tighter as he gathered the strength he knew he needed to have for us both before he finally looked back into my eyes.
“Sandy and my dad are on their way home from San Diego. They should be here in a little while.”
Mom. Bill. What would I say to them?
I couldn’t imagine what they were thinking.
“What do they know?” I whispered biting the inside of my lip as I waited for his answer.
He gave another weak smile and slowly shrugged his shoulder.
“Enough,” he whispered. The pain in my lungs returned. I had to ask; I needed to know. I just hoped the answer wasn’t as awful as I imagined.
“Joe, what’s going to happen now?”
“I have to go to the police station when your mom gets here. Sheriff Brady said I could stay with you until then.”
I looked toward the window for the short, plump sheriff, but he was gone. Two strangers had taken his place by the window. I looked back at Joe and was able to focus on him for the first time.
His eyes were a brilliant blue but red and swollen from all the tears he’d cried. And when he wiped his eye with his hand, I could see the bruises covering his knuckles. His lip was busted and his jaw was bruised. All of these wounds were reminders of what he had to do to save my life.
The look on his face was empty.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He looked at me with the same emptiness. He didn’t want me to thank him. And I knew that before I said it. I still wanted him to know.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
His expression was unchanged.
“There’s nothing to say other than he was right.”
“Right about what?” I asked, confusion filling my thoughts.
“Everything.” He stopped, unable to finish his sentence. He looked at me with pleading eyes to forgive him. “I had to choose, too.”
He was unable to catch his breath.
“And you chose me,” I sobbed.
His sobs were uncontrollable. He finally took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I didn’t think he was capable of those things.” His chin quivered as he tried to force a smile. “But he did make one mistake.”
His face softened as he stared at me.
“He underestimated what I am capable of,” he whispered through quivering lips. And with his confession, every tear in my eyes fell. I released his hand to cover my eyes as he ran his fingers through my hair. “In the end, I guess I was better at hiding who I truly am.”
I should have seen those signs, too.
There were there all along.
My lips trembled as I gently squeezed his hand in mine. I didn’t know what to say, and again, I don’t think he wanted me t
o say anything to him. He only wanted me to know.
“You knew he would try to hurt me, didn’t you?” I whispered looking into the paleness of his eyes. There was no need for him to respond. I already knew the answer. But he did anyway.
“When you arrived, everything changed. You filled this void I had in me for so long. I couldn’t let him take that away from me.”
He pulled the box from his pocket and slowly sifted through his brother’s belongings one by one. The brightness in his eyes started to return with his words.
“When Justin and I would visit dad and Sandy, she and I would talk for hours about you.” The small smile slowly spreading across his face was contagious. “Your mom would tell me stories about you from when you were a little girl, and seeing in her eyes how much she loved you, how perfect you were, how much happiness you brought her—well, I’ve waited a long time for you.”
I looked up at the vaulted ceiling above me as the puddle of tears fell from my eyes. Closing them, I could see the two of them sitting on the couch or at the kitchen table discussing me. My mom’s proud eyes dancing under the lights as she giggled and drank coffee, while he would stare at her, wanting to hear more.
How could I have underestimated the love either of them had for me?
My eyes scanned the room.
“What’s going to happen?”
“They’ll question me,” he said calmly, placing the box on the table in front of us. “Ask me if I knew what was going on, over and over again. But that’s okay. I know what to say.”
“Is your dad gonna be all right?” I asked in a voice no louder than a whisper.
“No.”
This caused him more pain.
Justin meant everything to Bill. Knowing Justin was a murderer would be unbearable to him. And knowing he wouldn’t be able to ease his father’s pain was unbearable to Joe.
I closed my eyes as he looked out the window at the falling snow. In a few short weeks, both of our lives had been turned upside down. The most important person in our lives was gone, and now we only had each other. I opened my eyes to look at him. He held my hand with one hand and pressed the other against his forehead as he rested his elbow on the arm of the chair.
He was worried.
He was hurting.
He still loved his brother.
I could hear my mother’s voice outside. It was filled with panic, as she demanded to know where her daughter was. But I continued to stare at Joe as he looked toward the door waiting for them to enter. He looked down at me and forced a smile before kissing my hand again.
He was different now.
He was still broken, but now he was alone.
And I knew as he waited for his dad to walk into the room that he was scared, unsure of his father’s response to what he had done.
“Karley!” my mother cried as she ran over to me. “Oh, my God! Are you okay?”
I didn’t say anything to her as I wrapped my arms around her neck and held her. I saw Bill looking at me, holding his hand up to his mouth to keep the pain from escaping. Sorrow filled his eyes as the tears fell down his cheeks. Then, he looked over at Joe and his hand fell to his side.
I could tell he wanted to run over to Joe and hold him in his arms, but he was unsure of what his response would be to him. Bill’s body relaxed as he stared at his son. Joe looked down at me. My lips trembled as I tried to smile at him, letting him know everything was going to be okay. He slowly nodded his head at me, then released my hand from his and walked over to his father.
Bill’s embrace around him was strong. He continued to weep as Joe finally wrapped his arms loosely around his father’s waist. No words were spoken between the two of them. Bill kissed his son’s cheek over and over as he held him in his arms until he was interrupted by Sheriff Brady’s voice.
“Sir?” he mumbled nervously. “Sir, we need to take Joe to the station again for some more questions.”
Bill stared at his friend and firmly nodded his head once. He walked over to the couch and my mother stood up next to him.
“Why?” she asked looking over at Joe.
“Its okay, Sandy,” Bill said quietly. “I’m going with him. I’ll take care of things.”
She looked back at Bill—satisfied with his answer—before kissing his lips. She walked over to Joe and put her hands on his cheeks. He bent forward and allowed her to hug him. He closed his eyes and tightly wrapped his arms around her waist as he cried.
I reached up and took Bill’s hand in mine, and he looked down at me. I couldn’t control my sobbing as he bent down and kissed the top of my head.
My mother was gently wiping Joe’s face with her hands as she gave him a kiss good-bye. She quickly walked back over to Bill and buried her face in his chest. Bill released my hand to hold my mother in his arms before he had to leave with his son.
I looked at Joe.
He no longer looked strong and confident. He looked like a lost child standing alone. He walked over to the couch and pulled the chair close to me. He sat down and took my hand in his as he stroked my hair. He whispered his promise in my ear.
“I’ll be back for you, Karley.”
He kissed my lips softly, and I pulled him closer to me. His forehead was resting against mine when he told me he loved me.
I believed him.
Things between us were unfinished.
Chapter 26
Starting Over
“So, have you decided what you and your friends are doing tonight for your birthday?” my mother asked. She still got more excited about celebrating my birthday than I did.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled pulling the hair tie out of my hair. “I have class until three and we have a game at six. All I know is I want it to be a night I will never forget.”
“Oh, I wish we could be there with you.” She sighed. “I know you’re twenty-one now, but I still worry about you. You’re still my little girl.”
I could hear her muffled cry on the other end. I wanted to hug her and tell her everything was all right—that I was all right.
“I know,” I whispered closing my eyes. “I’ll be careful, Mom.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
It didn’t relieve any of the worry on her mind, I knew.
“Mom, I promise,” I repeated. This was how our conversations always went now. She carried so much blame for what Justin had almost done to me. Blamed herself for not seeing the signs. I didn’t. How could I when I didn’t see them either? So this is how our conversations went … and she would always end up crying. But I couldn’t do this. Not today. Especially not today. Today was going to be a great day. Hopefully, the best day of my life.
“Oh, sweetie, I saw Gray at the supermarket yesterday.”
Gray. I hadn’t seen her since the day she walked away from me in the parking lot. She’d called many times—they all did—but I never returned any of their calls. I couldn’t.
“Hey, mom, I gotta go. Class starts in five minutes and it’s all the way across campus—”
“Oh, honey! I can’t believe you’re in your junior year. Have you thought about coming back here for a while after graduation and—”
“Mom—”
“Oh, I’m sorry, honey.”
Talking about going back to Vail was something I still wasn’t ready for—even after two years.
“No, it’s not that … I just really need to get to class.”
“Oh, okay, sweetie.” She knew I was lying, but she still sounded relieved I wasn’t upset with her for bringing it up again. That place always brought back too many bad memories for me. “Call me tomorrow and tell me all about your night.”
“I will. Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Tell Bill I love him, too.”
She repeated my words to him, and his deep voice echoed my sentiments.
“He says he loves you, too.”
“Bye, Mom.”
“Bye, sweetie. Happy Birt
hday!”
My American History professor absolutely hated anyone being late to his class. His motto was “better never than late” which made absolutely no sense at all to me. Wasn’t it better to at least show up than to not show up at all? And knowing he was going to say it to me when I walked in late this morning made me groan as I ran across campus.
Today’s Civil War lecture focused on fratricide.
“Brother against brother. Brother killing brother,” he said staring into my eyes. “Could there be anything worse?”
His voice repeated inside my head even after I got up and walked out of his class. Unlike the memories that haunted me daily, I wouldn’t let him bother me. Not today.
On our way to lunch, when Marissa mocked the slow, low drag of my professor’s voice perfectly, I couldn’t help but laugh—although there was nothing about his haunting words that I found funny.
“Better never than late, Miss Woods.”
“Oh, shut up!” I moaned, slapping her pointing finger away from my face and trying to ignore the chill racing down my spine with my memories of the past.
“I mean, seriously! The man needs to get a life. I mean for God’s sake … it’s your birthday today! Can’t he cut you some slack already?”
“How is he supposed to know it’s my birthday today?”
“I don’t know,” she said looking at me confused. “Doesn’t everybody know?”
It was true. Usually when someone was turning twenty-one, everyone made a huge deal of it here. At times it felt like one big continuous party in the dorms, although I rarely joined in the celebrations.
“I don’t think the instructors keep up with that stuff like the students do!” I laughed wrapping my arm around her shoulder.
“Well, they should,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I agree!” I shouted as we continued walking toward the cafeteria to meet up with more friends.
I was now in my senior year of college. Two years had passed since Justin died. Two years since I last saw Joe. After the police released him from questioning, he packed his bags and headed back to college. So he told us. He never arrived, and he never came back home. He stopped calling his dad and made no attempt to ever contact me again. He’d just disappeared. It didn’t matter how many men Bill hired to find him, they never did, and something told me they would never find him.