Protecting Maya

by Nicole Casey

In the shrubs I kept an eye on her bedroom light, waiting for it to turn on and indicate she was finally alone.

  I had learned the layout of the house while Sterling and Luke were wrapped up in one another and I had feigned a trip to the bathroom.

  She looked so peaceful in her bed, half curled on her side with her dark red hair fanned over her pillow that night.

  It had taken every ounce of my willpower not to crawl in bed beside her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear, but I couldn’t risk getting caught.

  It had been clear then that Malcolm didn’t like the competition.

  But that night I would fulfill all the fantasies I had been holding onto since first laying eyes on Maya.

  Regan had called it an obsession, but Regan was boring and vanilla. That was why it hadn’t lasted between us.

  I may have liked Regan before she got the police involved but I feel completely different about Maya. Maya and I have a much stronger bond than Regan and I ever did.

  At that moment, Maya was so close I could almost taste her.

  That was what I was thinking about that night as I focused on Maya’s bedroom window, waiting for the light to flick on, for her to give me the signal to join her as I knew she wanted me to do.

  Soon, sweet angel, I thought, shifting my weight from one foot to the other in anticipation. Soon we will be together.

  Instead I received a slap in the face when the shiny BMW raced up the drive and squealed to a stop outside the house.

  I recognized the man who had come to pick up my angel from the yoga studio the night I was building up the courage to ask her out.

  Maya met him at the door and I saw that she kept looking in my direction but pretended not to see me.

  She was putting on a show for me! She knew I was there, watching and she didn’t care!

  She ushered him inside and I felt as if my head was going to explode at the disrespect she was showing.

  My hand clenched around the baseball bat I had brought.

  I can’t remember why I brought it. Probably for protection against Malcolm. Obviously, I was not going to hurt Maya.

  I loved her.

  But my vision went blurry as hurt and anger bubbled through me.

  I wasn’t in control of myself anymore as I came to terms with the fact that Maya was a whore.

  There was no denying it now, no saving our relationship.

  I stepped forward but as I did, Luke and Sterling sauntered from the front door arm-in-arm.

  Inexplicably, I wanted to attack them for being so in love and so oblivious to how cruel the world could be.

  Your love isn’t real either! I wanted to scream. You two are fooling each other!

  Yet I hung back and did not move until they got into their own car and drove away.

  I strode forward then, bat in hand and without another thought, I crashed into the blonde man’s car.

  Every hurt feeling, every iota of betrayal I felt, I administered into the vehicle until it seemed to be nothing but a pile of glass.

  But it still wasn’t enough, and I scrounged around, looking for something to set it on fire.

  All I could find was a can of red spray paint and as I held it in my hand, I wondered why he should be the only one to suffer.

  It was all Maya’s fault after all.

  She was the whore.

  So I spelt my feelings actively on the farmhouse wall and after I stood back to look at the garish crimson words, I was suddenly consumed by regret.

  And guilt.

  I knew I didn’t have much time before I was caught literally red handed with the can of spray paint and batt in my hand.

  I flew off down the country road to where I had parked my car, off the visible line of the local traffic.

  By the time I got home to Minnesott Beach, I was much calmer.

  It had been cathartic after all.

  Maya deserved it.

  Her boyfriend deserved it.

  I was just balancing the scales and there was no way they could pin it on me.

  When the police arrived, I was once again shocked that Maya could turn on me like that.

  How dare she accuse me? I thought furiously. She loves me, and this is how she treats me?

  I, of course, pleaded ignorance to the police and they went away with little evidence except the suspicions of a slut and her boyfriend.

  But I was enraged.

  It seemed that the insults would not stop with her.

  She cheated on me.

  She accused me of terrible things.

  And she wouldn’t even talk to me.

  Just like Regan.

  They were all the same.

  Someone had to stop her before she did more damage to more people.

  How many men’s lives had she ruined before mine? How many more would she continue to ruin if someone didn’t stop her?

  It became painfully clear that I had to end her vicious, nasty ways.

  Thanks to Malcolm’s information about her sister, I had learned that Maya was a triplet. It had not taken much research to learn about all three of the Viera triplets; the school teacher, the lawyer and Maya, the calculating bitch.

  It was their birthday on the upcoming weekend and it seemed fitting to me that Maya face her misdeeds that day before her family.

  She should explain to them all what a disappointment she has been. Her sisters will be so grateful I have outed such a disgrace in their bloodline, I thought gleefully, recalling how lovely were the faces of Vyolet and Yvette Viera from the pictures I had seen online.

  Neither one looks exactly like Maya but that’s probably a good thing. I wouldn’t want a constant reminder of her around.

  I sat back on my sofa and smiled to myself, picking up my hunting knife.

  This Sunday, Maya would be exposed for the liar that she was.

  And next year, the Viera twins would be celebrating their twenty-seventh birthday without having a wretched smear on their good name.

  I was excited to be doing the family such a service but sad too because I still loved Maya of course.

  Still, it had to be done.

  10

  Maya

  The constant ringing was making me antsy and I knew that Slade was worried about me.

  “Oh my God!” Yvette finally yelled, snatching the device from my hand. “Just answer the damned thing already! It won’t stop ringing!”

  I looked at mom who glowered, but she did not object.

  It was easy to see that mom did not approve but she looked irritated also. I was reluctant to turn it off because I didn’t want Slade to worry but I also did not want to start a fight with my mother.

  “No,” I insisted. “It’s not important.”

  I quickly sent him a text to let him know I was all right.

  Since the incident at the house, he had not left my side outside of work hours.

  He insisted that I stay with Mal, something which Malcolm enforced and even took the one day off work to stay with me.

  “Just let me come and meet your family,” Slade groaned. “I can say I’m like your security guard or something.”

  I chortled.

  “That will fly over really well with my mom. And my dad will never let me leave the house again if he thinks I need security. Not to mention my sister is a divorce lawyer with the most expensive PIs in the state on retainer. She’ll have your entire life history emailed to her by the time we get to cake. No way. I can’t throw you to the wolves. Not yet.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was the real reason or if I was simply getting adjusted to the way things were suddenly.

  Maybe I just wanted to keep him my secret a little while longer.

  No amount of cajoling or pleading would change my mind as I got ready to go at his place on Sunday.

  Bit by bit, items of mine had begun appearing in Slade’s house. Some were by design while others had simply landed there.

  He hadn’t complained, and I hadn’t asked if it was okay, but it was som
ething of the pink elephant in the room.

  He didn’t sign on for an instant roommate, I thought but then again, we had been inseparable.

  At some point, we were going to have to discuss everything, but I was still clinging to the tentative, heady feeling of our honeymoon phase.

  I didn’t want anything to ruin it.

  Not even the thought of Troy coming back.

  I hadn’t seen nor heard from him and I thanked the gods for small favors but that didn’t mean the threat of him didn’t loom heavy in my mind.

  The cops had not been very helpful in their investigation and I was more apt to bury my head in the sand.

  Anyway, it was my birthday.

  I didn’t want to think about Troy.

  “Do you have a stalker?”

  My head jerked up and I stared at Yvette who peered down at me with mocking blue eyes.

  “What?”

  “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen your phone go off as much as it has in the last two hours.”

  I laughed shakily and shook my head.

  “No,” I replied. “I have a special friend.”

  The shock on my sister’s face was picture worthy.

  “A what?” she gasped, looking around the yard. “Vyolet! Vy! Get over here!”

  “Shh!” I hissed, my face turning pink with humiliation. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Vyolet scampered over, her blue eyes wide with curiosity.

  “What? What happened?” she demanded, and I looked around to ensure my parents weren’t in earshot.

  “Maya, our Maya the Mayan, has…a boyfriend!”

  I visibly cringed at the word, heat flooding my face as I shook my head.

  “What?” Vy choked. “Like one boyfriend?”

  “Okay, thanks peanut gallery. I have to get going now,” I told them, turning my head so they would not see the crimson shade of my cheeks.

  “No wait!” Vyolet squealed. “Who is he? What’s his name?”

  “I think she’s talking about me.”

  I glanced over my shoulder, my grin freezing on my face.

  Troy Caspian walked into my parents’ backyard, a maniacal smile on his face.

  “You were telling them about me, Maya?”

  “What are you doing here?” I breathed. Unconsciously, I stepped between him and my sisters who were staring at me with curious eyes.

  “I came to introduce myself to your family. You’ve been telling me about your beautiful sisters forever! Let me guess – you must be Vyolet.”

  He stuck his hand out toward my blonde sibling and I automatically slapped it away.

  “Run!” I screamed, terror filling me as his free hand reached into his waistband and the knife appeared.

  My sisters froze but it wasn’t them he was after.

  I was snatched up in a fistful of hair as he pressed the blade of the hunting knife to my neck.

  “Now that is no way to introduce your boyfriend to your family,” he hissed, and I yelped in pain as he dragged me back away from the table toward the poolside.

  “Run!” I choked again as the cold steel pressed up against my throat but neither woman moved.

  I could see my parents clearly in the kitchen, lost in conversation and oblivious to what was happening a few feet away.

  “Troy,” I gasped. “Troy what are you doing?”

  “I am visiting my girlfriend on her birthday,” he sneered, and my blood ran cold as he continued to move me back.

  I silently pled Vy and Yve to flee the scene and suddenly Yvette jumped for her phone.

  “Don’t move!” Troy howled, the tip of the blade breaking the tender skin at my neck. “I will kill her. Don’t even think about it!”

  Vyolet started to scream then and I closed my eyes, waiting for the slash which would end my life.

  Abruptly, I was pushed into the pool and water filled my lungs as I struggled to get my bearings.

  Panicked, I fought for the surface and clawed at the water, my head whipping in all directions at once.

  Vyolet was still screaming and Yvette was on the phone, her face contorted in a frantic expression.

  My dad was lunging across the lawn toward where a pair of bodies was entwined in a lethal wrestling match as my mother watched the scene, dumbfounded and uncomprehending.

  I swam to the edge and pulled myself out, rushing to where Troy was pinned on the ground, the knife still wedged in his hand.

  “Drop it!” Slade groaned. “Drop the damned knife, you maniac!”

  A second later, dad kicked the blade from his hand and Troy howled in defiance, a burst of adrenaline coursing through him as he struggled to sit up.

  But Slade seemed prepared for the action and kept him still, headbutting him in place.

  I gasped, jumping on Troy’s legs to restrain him as my dad helped Slade keep his chest in place.

  “Call 9-1-1!” I screeched but I could tell that Yvette was already on it.

  “Where did you come from?” I breathed, adding more weight to the thrashing psychopath beneath us. “Are you hurt?”

  “Just give me a second, Maya,” Slade groaned. “Kind of in the middle of something.”

  The police swarmed the backyard, relieving the three of us to place Troy into custody as I fell onto the grass.

  My heart was thudding almost out of my chest as I stared up at Slade.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked again, and he shook his head but even as he did, I could see blood seeping from his shoulder.

  Dizziness swept through me and I leapt from my spot.

  “He needs an ambulance!” I yelled. “He’s been stabbed!”

  Dad rushed to look at Slade’s wound, ignoring his protests as the rest of my family swarmed him.

  “It’s a scratch,” he argued, unsuccessfully trying to wave us off as if we were a pesky bunch of bees.

  “I tried to warn you that once you stepped foot on this property there would be no escaping,” I muttered but my cheeks were wet with tears.

  “You warned me again,” Slade agreed, looking at me with worried blue eyes. “You’re bleeding too.”

  “Also a scratch,” I assured him.

  “What on God’s green earth is going on here?” my mother bellowed, her face almost opaque as Troy was led from the yard in handcuffs. “Who are these people?”

  Slade looked at me and I sighed inwardly.

  This was not the way I wanted to do it, but it seemed I had little choice in the matter now.

  “Slade,” I started as a paramedic arrived. “This is my mom, Amelia, my dad Oscar and my sisters, Vyolet and Yvette. Everyone, this is Slade Payne, my boyfriend.”

  Oddly, saying it myself didn’t sound as funny as when Yvette had said it earlier.

  Maybe it was growing on me.

  Or perhaps it was the stress of the situation.

  In either case, I was happy to present him to my family.

  “Maya, what is going on?” mom demanded again, her brow drawn in confusion.

  But I wasn’t paying attention. My focus was strictly on Slade and what was happening with his wound.

  “How did you know to come?” I asked again.

  Was he following me? Is that weird?

  “I put a GPS tracker on Troy’s car,” Slade confessed, his voice quiet as to not let the police hear his illegal move.

  My brows shot up.

  “What? Why?”

  Slade shrugged.

  “I knew it was only a matter of time before he did something insane again and I didn’t want to beg the police to do their job, so I thought I would keep an eye on him.”

  I stared at him for a long moment.

  “And you put a GPS on me too,” I said, prickles covering my skin.

  His blue eyes widened.

  “Of course not!” he replied, looking offended that I would suggest such a thing, but I couldn’t understand how he would have known otherwise.

  He lowered his gaze and cleared his throat nervously.
r />   “I Googled your parents’ address,” he admitted, and I felt a rush of air escape my lungs.

  Slade had been sitting on pins and needles, worried about me for days. That was why he had looked up my parents’ house.

  He loved me. He really did love me.

  In everything he did, he showed me, and I couldn’t even bring him to meet my family because I was worried about letting go of my past.

  In all of my desire to live a free life with constraints, I had almost missed out on an opportunity for a pure and secure love.

  “Why are you looking at me like that? Did I cross a line?” he asked, shame coloring his face. “I only did it because I was –”

  “Worried about me,” I interjected. “I know. And yes, you have crossed a line.”

  He gazed at me, the corners of his mouth tucking inward as he waited for a lecture.

  “You crossed the line into my heart,” I told him earnestly. “I love you.”

  His face seemed to brighten and suddenly I realized that my entire family was watching us, their mouths agape but I didn’t care.

  For once in my life I had permitted myself to experience love on a deeper than tangible level.

  “I love you too, Maya,” he replied gruffly.

  I leaned in to kiss his lips and we smiled at one another.

  “There’s one more thing,” I said.

  “I don’t know if I can handle anymore things,” he groaned, and I laughed.

  “You are going to have to,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

  “All right,” he agreed begrudgingly. “What?”

  “I think we should move in together.”

  Epilogue

  MALCOLM

  There were three moving trucks outside and for a moment I stared at them wondering why we needed three.

  Then I remembered; they weren’t for me.

  Sterling wandered through the living room and gazed at me almost balefully, but I turned my back deliberately to discourage conversation.

  It didn’t stop her.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she whined, and I chewed on the insides of my cheeks. “You’re so selfish!”

  I tossed her a look over my shoulder and shrugged nonchalant.

  “Selfish it is,” I agreed. It was easier to concede her points than argue with her after all.