Chaos and Control
Page 26
I step back into my room and catch movement from the corner of my eye. Lightning flashes again, and the thunder a few seconds later rattles the walls. I turn toward the fluttering curtains and realize the window is open. I don’t remember leaving it open, but after the day I’ve had, I could have easily forgotten. Pushing the curtains apart, I gasp and stumble backward, tripping over my own feet and landing hard on my ass. There, on the windowsill, sits my broken snow globe from Niagara Falls.
“What the shit?” I say out loud. All the exhaustion is wiped away, and panic now seizes my body.
“Hey, baby. Miss me?”
Pushing boundaries takes everything
Forcing my limits outside myself
All in the name of seeing her
Dirty stool, dirty bar
Fear shakes my hand in greeting
And then, Wren is there
Soothing the mayhem
Stilling the impulses
A clean glass, a clean towel
A beer and a moment just for me
Washed hands and secret smiles
Attention to detail defines her love
A kiss, a glance, a promise to stay
Obsessed with the idea that I want her to
- Preston
Chapter Twenty-Six
Codes and Keys
I turn to find Dylan leaned against my closed door. He looks rough. His blond hair is greasy and pushed back from his face. His clothes are dirty and wrinkled, like he’s been in them for days.
“No.” I scoot away from him, pressing myself to the wall. Dylan curls his fingers into fists and pushes off of the door.
“That’s a shame. I sure have missed you. You left without saying good-bye.”
He strolls across the room as I scramble to my feet. I hear music start up in Preston’s apartment—Death Cab for Cutie—and I glance at the wall dividing our rooms.
“I just needed to come home. I missed my sister,” I say, almost shouting so that Preston can hear me.
Dylan grabs my chin. His grimy fingers dig painfully into the flesh of my face.
“Lower your voice, or I’ll end you before your little boyfriend can even get here.”
Pulling my lips into my mouth, I bite down to keep from screaming. I deny my instinct to fight and keep quiet for now. I know that I can’t out muscle him, and I don’t want to endanger Bennie sleeping just down the hall. I’ll need to outsmart him.
“What do you want?” I ask, wrapping my hand around the flapping curtain, just to stay upright.
“Let’s start with the money you took,” he says, grunting when I pull my chin from his grasp.
“I have all your money. Plus more. Take it. It’s in an envelope in my bottom drawer.”
“Hmm.” Dylan leans in and places a kiss below my ear. He smells foul like sweat and cigarettes. “God, I miss you, baby. You taste so sweet. When I said you were mine, it wasn’t negotiable.”
He leans against me now, his weight pinning me to the wall.
“I just needed to come home, Dylan.” My voice wavers, but I try to stay strong.
“I saw you running around with that big guy. I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
“Dylan, please,” I whisper.
“Oh, there she is. There’s the little birdie I remember. You know I like it when you beg.”
Before I can turn away, he forces his lips against mine. His tongue darts out, parting my lips. I want to gag from the violation, but another part of me sees an opportunity. Without overthinking, I bite down on his invasive tongue as hard as I can. I taste blood, and he screams, pushing away from me, stumbling to the floor.
“You bitch!” he shouts.
I hear banging on Bennie’s apartment door. It must be Preston.
Dylan turns toward the sound, and I take advantage of the distraction. I throw one leg over the windowsill and climb through. I can hear his shouting following me, but don’t look back as I tiptoe to the edge of the roof. It looks like a long drop down to the sidewalk, but with Dylan coming through the window, I don’t have a choice. The sky lights up again, and I squeak out a surprised yelp.
I sit on the edge, flip onto my stomach and slide over, holding onto the ledge with my fingertips. When Dylan appears above me, all evil grin and bloody mouth, I let go. The drop is not as far as I thought, and I land on both feet, though something in my left ankle pops. It’s painful, but I push through it.
“Nowhere to hide in this town, Wren,” Dylan shouts. His voice is an eerie warning floating over me in the night sky.
I hobble as fast as possible away from the store, my boots coming in handy to help support my injured ankle. At this time of night, there is no one around, no porch lights on. I cut through yards and hurry down back alleys, zig-zagging through town. I keep moving, but constantly check behind me. I don’t see Dylan anywhere. The police station is on the other side town, and I don’t think I can outrun Dylan for that long. When my feet hit the grass of the park, I move faster toward the water tower. If I can get up there before he sees, he’ll never find me.
At the bottom of the ladder, the first drops of rain hit me. I pull myself up a couple of rungs, fighting through the throbbing pain. I’m halfway up when my foot slips. I hold in a scream as my hands grip the bar and my feet dangle below. I use all of my upper-body strength to hang on to that ladder and regain my footing.
I’m so close I can see the top now. I just have to make it to the platform, and then I’ll hide here until I can figure out what to do. The rain pings against the metal structure, and every time the thunder booms I feel it vibrate through my body.
By the time I make it to the top, I’m exhausted. I pull myself onto the platform and lay on my stomach, my face turned to the side in a puddle. Rain soaks me as my chest heaves, trying to catch my breath. Even in the warm air, chills rush over my skin when I hear the crazed sound of Dylan yelling my name.
I crawl to the other side of the tower, just to stay out of sight, and press my back to the reservoir. I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them in an effort to stop trembling. Minutes pass, and I strain to listen for Dylan’s voice over the pounding rain. But I hear nothing. Dropping my head to my knees, I think about Preston and Bennie and how helpless I am up here alone. I groan thinking about what Dylan wants from me.
“Hey, baby. Did you think I wouldn’t find you up here?”
I raise my head to find Dylan towering over me. I gasp and choke as water pours into my throat.
“I told you I’d find you.” His words are sloppy and muffled because of his injury.
I scream and jump to my feet, backing away from him. I run to the other side of the tower, trying to beat him to the ladder. As soon as it is in my sight, he appears, a vicious kind of grin in place.
I retreat and run back out of sight. Now I’m blind, having no idea which direction he’ll come from. I lean against the railing and flip my head back and forth, waiting for Dylan to appear. My pulse pounds in my ears. That, along with the rain and thunder, makes my hearing useless.
In another flash of lightning, I see Dylan come charging from my right side. I take off running, but I know that it’s useless. I’m trapped up here, running in circles around this tower. I make it around once, but know he’s close when I feel the platform shaking beneath my feet. His hand snags the back of my shirt and jerks me so that I fall on my back at his feet.
I land with a thud, all the breath knocked from my lungs. Dylan stands over me now, blocking the rain. I fight to pull in air as my fingers claw at the platform below me. My soaked clothes stick to my skin and weigh me down. He watches silently, fascinated with my struggle.
“You thought you could leave me?” he yells. Blood still pours over his lips and mixes with rainwater before dripping onto my chest.
“Help!” I yell, but I know there is no one to hear my cries. “Help me!”
Dylan drops to his knees, straddling my waist, my hands pinned by my sides. He sits on me, making it impossible to
move. I try to lift my hips to buck him off, but he’s too heavy and I’m too weak.
“I sent you little clues, baby. So that you knew I was coming.”
“I got them,” I barely get out. I feel suffocated by my fear and the menacing look in his eyes.
“They were to remind you of who you belong to.”
“I don’t belong to anyone, Dylan.”
He leans over now, his face a few inches above mine. I hold my breath.
“You. Are. Mine,” he says, slapping me across the cheek. My head snaps sideways, and tears sting my eyes. The pain is blinding. “Are you ready to come home?”
“I am home,” I spit at him. I’m able to pull one hand free and swing it at his face, landing an ineffective blow.
“Oh!” Dylan shouts, chuckling. “This is new. I like this fight in you, baby.”
I push against him and wiggle free, but only because he allows me to. He’s amused. Back on my feet, I head for the ladder. When I’m close, Dylan catches my arm and I fall, rolling toward the edge. I catch myself and push away from the ledge, pressing my back against the tower.
Dylan squats down and gives me a bloody smile.
“Now get yourself together, baby. We’ve got to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I say. I throw a punch into his chest, but he just grunts at my effort. His hands cup my face in a deceptively tender way.
“I love you, baby. But I don’t share. Now. Let’s. Go,” he says through gritted teeth.
I try to kick him, but he pins my legs down. “I’d rather die up here than have to look at you for another fucking minute!”
Heavy raindrops and the weight of my own words sink in. They hold me in place, and I feel like the sky is drowning me.
His eyes become slits as he stays perfectly still. He is a snake before striking. I should have seen it coming. I should have known not to goad him. Dylan’s hands shoot out and wrap around my throat. My eyes go wide when I realize he is going to grant my wish. He pushes hard, and with the metal tower against my back, I can’t get any air. My fingers claw at his arms, my feet flail and kick, but it is no use. Dots begin to dance in my vision, and my head is spinning.
I close my eyes and say good-bye to Bennie, to the best friend I ever had and the mother I wish I did. I say good-bye to Crowley and everything good and bad this town ever meant to me. Preston’s face flashes in my mind, and I cling to it as blackness begins to pull me under.
Then, the hand around my throat is gone. I suck in a much-needed breath as my eyes struggle to stay open. Preston appears above me; he looks like an abstract painting made of shadows and light. His lips move, but I can’t understand. I blink away tears and rain just as Dylan rushes Preston. The two fall to the platform, and the metal structure shakes beneath me. My brain screams to do something, but my body is useless. Chills send a shock down my spine as I can do nothing but watch Dylan’s fist connect with Preston’s jaw.
“Preston,” I cry, but my voice is lost amongst the struggle and rain. My chest heaves as I watch Dylan attack again, but Preston pushes him away. White-knuckled grips on each other and neither will surrender.
I force my body forward, ignoring the burn in my lungs and the dancing lights in my vision. Neither of them see me crawling toward the scuffle. I use that to my advantage. Summoning all the energy I can, I get to my feet and steady my shaking limbs. A flash of lightning sparks through the sky, and Preston’s determined eyes connect with mine. I raise my foot and kick Dylan between the legs. My weak effort does no damage, but it is enough to distract him.
Preston shoves Dylan as I press myself against the tower and out of his way. He lands a punch that sends Dylan stumbling backwards. I gasp as he grabs for the railing, misses…
And goes tumbling over the side.
I slump over and curl into a ball, my body’s adrenaline depleted. My lungs burn like there is a raging fire inside while my skin feels ice cold. Arms wrap around me, surrounded by wet warmth and calming words. This is my heaven. It smells like Preston.
“Wren.”
I blink up into the rain and see Preston’s face above mine. Relief washes over me, and I grab his face between my hands.
“Preston.”
“I’m here,” he whispers. “You’re safe.”
“Dylan!” I yell. “Is he…?”
Preston nods and pulls me against his chest. “He’s dead, Wren.”
Sirens wail from the distance and flashing lights reflect off nearby buildings. I search myself for some kind of reaction to Dylan’s death. He was an awful man, possessive and violent. Though I feel guilty for his death, the world is a better place without him in it.
“We killed someone,” I say, in awe.
“No,” Preston shakes his head. “It was me. We’ll tell them it was all me. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I’m so sorry he got to you.”
I lean over the platform’s edge and see the police vehicles and fire trucks approaching below.
“How?”
“I heard him yell through the wall,” he says, pulling me away from the ledge and back into his arms. “I tried to get into the apartment, but the door was locked. By the time I broke it down, you were both gone. It didn’t take me long to figure out where you would go. I called the police and ran here.”
“So brave,” I say, leaning into his chest. “Preston-who-climbs-towers.”
Preston shakes his head. “Knowing you were up here with him, I didn’t even think twice when I got to the bottom of that ladder. Everything, all that bullshit that holds me back, vanished when I knew you were in danger.”
I press my lips against his chest, placing a kiss over his heart. My rescuer.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” I whisper. “You saved me, Preston.”
Preston shifts beneath me, and his eyes dart around the platform. The chest muscles beneath my cheek tighten, and his breaths seem to pick up speed.
“Are you completely freaking out?” I ask.
“Now that you’re safe? Yes.”
A damsel in distress
A knight stands at the
Bottom of her tower
He shakes free of his
Heavy armor and takes
The first step
Every debilitating fear
Left on the ground
There is only one goal
Save her
Forward faster
Her cries fuel his spirit
Because he cannot exist
In a world where she does not
Because he cannot breathe
Unless the air is filled with her
At the highest height
He is victorious
In his arms, she is alive
In her arms, he lives
- Preston
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sounds of Silence
My father stands in the shade of a tall tree. The standard Reverend Hart uniform replaced with a new suit and shiny shoes that look odd on his feet. His favorite Bible is clutched in his right hand. A cool breeze blows through, rustling the leaves and casting an animated light show below.
The sweet scent of flowers sickens my stomach, and I try to take shallow breaths because of it. People say that grief can be numbing. In this moment, I pray for numbness. Right now, all I feel is immeasurable pain. Pain that cripples me and steals every good thing. My head is spinning, my heart is breaking, my insides are crumbling into dust, and I want to blow away.
Preston’s hands rest on my shoulders as I sit staring at the ground. Green blades of grass stick up in all directions, a few curling over the top of my black boots. There is such silence here, such reverent contemplation, I’m startled when my father finally speaks.
“Gracious God, in whose presence live all who die in the Lord, receive our sister into your merciful arms, and the joys of your heavenly home. May she and all the departed rest in peace.”
“Amen.” It is a chorus of murmurs from those gathered around th
e grave. I mumble the word a few seconds later than everyone else and refuse to look at the casket in the center of this crowd.
Preston squeezes my shoulder, and I stand on shaky legs. Everyone’s eyes are on me while mine concentrate on the wood-grain pattern of the mahogany casket. There is nothing but finality and sadness in that pattern. It makes me dizzy, so I drop my eyes to the ground. The words I want to say are scribbled onto a page from Preston’s notebook, folded and tucked into the sweaty palm of my hand. I don’t need to look at them. Words are a funny thing. There aren’t enough in the English language to say what I need to say.
“Bennetta Mary Hart lived life by her own rules. Bennie didn’t let this town, her friends, or her family define who she was. She was not ashamed of her love for gossip magazines and romance novels. She liked vintage sweaters and simple things.” My vision is blurred from tears. I squeeze my eyes closed, forcing them down my cheeks. “Bennie loved music and shared that love with me at a very young age. Everything I know, everything that I am, I owe to her. We are all better for having known her. It’s not fair that she suffered from this disease or that this free spirit was taken from us so soon. But I have to believe that she is in heaven, introducing angels to the glorious sound of Jimmy Hendrix on vinyl. Catch you on the flip side, Bennie. I love you.”
With my last words, I lose all composure. Sobs wrack my body, my weak knees give out as Preston’s arms embrace me and all of my sorrow. The fingers of one hand trace the zipper on the back of my dress over and over, drawing a line from my neck to the base of my spine. I am comforted by his compulsion. I hear people come and go while I’m tucked into the darkness beneath Preston’s jacket. I can’t face any of them. I am overwhelmed with the hurt of losing my sister and best friend. When I get dizzy, I remind myself to inhale and exhale and lock my knees to stay upright. We stand there for what feels like hours.
Preston shifts and presses his lips to my hair. “Everyone is gone, Wren.”