My hands shake uncontrollably. The things I am about to see will not be unseen.
I walk softly towards the room, and turn the old brass knob, slowly pushing the rickety wooden door. It creeps open on its own without any resistance.
No words. I just stand there and cover my mouth in horror.
The floor is lined with clear plastic tarp. On it, Rick is tied down to a chair, his face bloody, his head hanging down. Taylor stops and turns to face me, his knuckles wrapped in cloth stained with blood. He is shirtless, only wearing a pair of blood-stained gray sweatpants, his body glowing with perspiration, his abdomen expanding and collapsing with each breath. Sweaty dark hair sticks to his temples, while steam halos his body and puffs out of his mouth with each frenzied exhale. He looks at me with a look so intense and cold, that for a moment I think he might attack me, but then his eyes grow familiar. They don’t turn tender, but they turn enough to tell me I am safe, that my Taylor is still here. He’s just doing as he promised: making it end.
Today is my wedding day.
Chapter 39
“Oh my god!” I choke out. “What have you done?”
“What are you doing here?” Taylor asks.
“What are you doing here?” I retort.
“You don’t understand.”
“Lala. Lala.” Rick’s weakened voice calls me.
“No, I do. I know what Rick did. Henry called me, told me you vanished. I saw the documents. I know Rick helped Eric.”
Taylor wipes sweat off of his brow with his forearm. “Helped Eric? No, no, no…he did everything!”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Taylor looks down at Rick. “Tell her.” Rick looks up at me, his left eye already swollen, his lip cut on the same side. “I said tell her!” Taylor hovers over Rick.
“Stop!” I yell. “Don’t touch him, Taylor.”
Rick sobs. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to get this far.” Bloody drool drips from his mouth as he sucks back tears.
“It’s okay, it’s okay…” I say. I want the truth from Rick, but I’ll only get that with kindness. He wants to confess to me. And no matter what, the sight of someone so vulnerable elicits empathy from me. Rick was a pawn for Eric. Eric found him at his weakest and used him, got him tangled up so deeply that he found himself unable to get free. In some ways, he is a victim too.
I slowly approach Rick, pulling out some loose tissues from my jacket pocket. “It’s okay. Talk to me. I’m not going to let him hurt you.”
“What are you doing?” Taylor asks. I shoot him a look and he bites his inner lip to stop himself, circling away in frustration.
I gently wipe away the blood and am relieved to see that I got here in time. He has a bruised eye and jaw and some cuts, but the blood made his injuries appear far worse. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t know how this got so out of control,” he sobs.
“Tell me what happened. I’m sorry I hurt you. I know I drove you to this.”
Taylor sucks his teeth in the background and paces the room.
“I didn’t work with Eric. I told you the truth about him reaching out to me, asking me to help him. I said no. I did. But then I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he said, how you two were probably screwing behind my back when we were together. How he was probably giving you to other men like a toy and whipping you and I decided I wanted to dig around myself. I had the keys to the apartment, even after I moved. I got into your computer, it wasn’t hard…I knew your passwords just like you knew mine. And your phone, I was able to hack into that easily, access your mic so I could hear your offline conversations when I felt like it and hear all of your phone calls…I found your little pros and cons list about BDSM. Sometimes if the phone was in the right spot, I could hear you two fucking…”
He drops his head down.
“I shouldn’t have, it just made me more angry. It’s all I could think about. I stopped going to work, I would just listen to your calls all day. And then I started texting you, because I was so angry. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted to do something to make you both feel what I felt.”
I listen in complete shock, trying to put the pieces together. What did Eric do? What did Rick do? All this time we thought there was one person trying to ruin us, but it was two separate people with two entirely different motives intersecting at the same time, each seemingly unaware of what the other was doing.
And then I remember something I had completely overlooked just weeks ago.
“The day of your dad’s funeral, you drove me to my new place…I never told you where I lived…how could I have been so stupid not to realize?”
“Because you trusted him,” Taylor says, coaxing me into anger.
“And the hotel? The mask?” I ask, trembling on my knees in front of Rick.
“I followed you that day you first went to the hotel, I knew you were probably going to see him because he texted you the day before that he had a surprise for you. Once you went up the elevator, I couldn’t follow you without being noticed, but I went back into the apartment and saw the card with the hotel suite number. I heard about your past, and the issues with Eric. I heard about you investigating the cult, Shyla, and his mother. Honestly, it became a form of entertainment for me. I kept wondering why you would stay involved in all this. Then I thought you were brainwashed, just like those cult people. I wanted to do something big, scare you, make you and Taylor know someone was watching. So I sent the fucking flowers, I had you meet me at the hotel. I was just supposed to scare you, I was going to hover over you, get you scared, play with your head. I knew you would think it was Eric. Then I was going to send the dvd to Taylor, to show you both you weren’t safe. That someone was watching you.”
My stomach churns as he gets closer to what I know he is about to confess.
“But then you were there. And you thought I was Taylor…and I felt powerful and wanted. The way you looked at me when you thought I was him was so different. And I wanted to give him the feeling he gave me. What it felt for someone to violate the person you loved. For someone to steal the person you cared about. When I heard Taylor’s reaction that night after he saw the video, I realized I might have put you in danger and it struck me how insane I had become. I regretted it. But it was too late. I stopped the texts, but I knew it had started something much bigger because I also heard Eric the next morning and how you thought it was him…I heard about your plan with Taylor to blame him too. I stopped listening after that. I promise. I tried to walk away. Then my dad died, and you told me you were getting married and I couldn’t believe that after everything he had put you through, you would marry him. I was good to you, Shyla.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“No, I didn’t want to get you in trouble. Besides, what I was doing was illegal anyway. But I heard Taylor convince you to frame his brother. It’s like you are blind to the manipulation. The way he dangled it out there in front of you, and you just took the—“
“Shut the fuck up!” Taylor screams, pointing at Rick. Rick recoils, terrified to take another hit.
“Just stop!” I yell. “And the mask?” I ask Rick.
“I wanted to stop you from marrying Taylor. I still care about you and don’t think you are safe with him. I fucked up, but I couldn’t let him win. I couldn’t let you go through with this. Look at this!” he motions to the room with his face. “I have wanted to get into the house for a while, and months ago I put in an application for a job with the alarm company, and around the time my dad died, I got it. I triggered the alarms so they would go crazy and then took the job to go install a new system.”
I stumble up to my feet, running out of the room and retching in the hallway. “I’m so sorry…” Rick cries.
Taylor tries to follow me, but I beg him to leave me alone for a moment. “Please don’t touch him,” I ask. Taylor waits outside of the open door to the room where Rick is held, watching both of us in silence.
N
o one is who they show to the world, everyone wears a mask. It’s not just me and Taylor, it’s everyone. Even my sweet Rick. Or maybe Taylor and I are an infection that spreads to those around us and like necrosis of the soul, we darken the people in our way. Even though the words come right out of Rick’s mouth, I stand outside in the hallway reflecting on his confession, unable to believe he could have done all of this. And Eric? Eric had nothing to do with it. But then what was his end game? Just to kill Taylor? Or me? We’ll never know now that he is dead.
Once the nausea passes, I am able to think more clearly. The wave of sympathy for Rick passes. If I am somehow responsible for what Rick did, then he is just as responsible for his own actions. His selfish obsession lead to a chain of events that lead to Eric’s death. Who knows? The final confrontation between Eric and Taylor may have been inevitable, but Rick’s actions spiraled into a series of events that turned Eric far more desperate and erratic.
And then there is Rick’s betrayal.
Rick and I might have had sex hundreds of times, but it’s the greed, the entitlement, the fact he used my body as some sick tool for revenge, just to hurt me and Taylor, that fills me with heat. Like lava, it bubbles and courses through my limbs. I march back into the room, past Taylor, and slap Eric so hard my hand sears with pain.
“What have you become? I don’t even know you!” I scream.
Rick absorbs the slap and slowly turns his face up to make eye contact. “Who have you become?” he scowls.
Like a tidal wave, Taylor rushes Eric, grabbing him by the neck and slamming the chair down to the floor. Pieces of splintered wood fly off the old chair. Rick’s legs kick in the air, flailing helplessly as gurgling sounds escape his throat. Taylor punches him over and over while choking him.
“Taylor stop it!” I cry, “You are killing him!”
I reach for his shoulders, but his solid frame is immoveable. Just then I spot Harrison in the doorway.
“Help me!” I call out.
Harrison pauses for a moment, but then he helps me pull back Taylor, who then stops on his own free will.
“Get off of me,” he growls, before directing his fury at Harrison.
“You? Did you tell her we were here?” Taylor shouts accusingly.
“Taylor you’re scaring me, please!” I cry, trembling as I notice my jacket and hands are stained with blood. An awful wheezing sound emerges from Rick as he gasps and coughs.
Taylor sighs. “I’m calm,” he says putting his hands up. “Harrison, I am fine. Please excuse us.”
Harrison looks at me and I nod. Taylor pulls me out into the hallway, cupping my face with his bloody hands. “You weren’t supposed to see this. Or know about this. I’m sorry.”
“Is that supposed to make it better?” I cry. “You can’t keep killing people. This is getting out of control.”
Taylor’s eyes become sad when he sees my complete despair. He presses his forehead against mine. “Shyla, I promised you this would end. There’s only one way that happens. He fucking raped you. He violated you. He terrorized you with messages, made you think you were in constant danger. He framed Eric. And I have no doubts about Eric’s intentions for us, but Eric did nothing to him and he framed him. Rick is not who you thought he was. I’ve told you before, people are never as good as you think they are. They might never be as bad, but they’re never as good either.”
“And me? You say I bring out the good in you. If I let you do this, then I am not as good as you think I am.”
“You have to be bad sometimes to those who hurt the ones you love. But we are good to each other. That’s all that matters.”
“I can’t, I can’t.” I cry and Taylor embraces me. The comforting smell of his sweat, and his cool skin against my cheek envelop me in protection.
“Taylor I don’t want to lose you to this. I can’t keep watching you go down this path.”
“As long as he is around, you will never be safe. I don’t mean from physical harm. He knows too much. Too much.”
“I can’t.”
“And if I do it anyway? It’s not on you, it’ll be on me. You don’t have to hold the guilt for any of it.”
“That’s not how guilt works, Taylor. It’s not finite or tangible. You can’t just take it and contain it. Think of the guilt you felt about putting me in Eric’s path. It wasn’t your fault, but you felt it anyway. As long as there is something I can do that I didn’t do, then I will feel like I could have stopped this disaster.”
And I say the last thing I ever want to say, the words hurt my bones, but I know it’s the only hand I have. The only way I can put an end to this.
“If you do this, I won’t marry you. I can’t.”
Taylor’s grasp around me goes cold like stone. “What?”
“I have to do everything I can to stop this.”
“You would leave me to protect that fucking weasel?”
“No, I would leave you to protect you from this rage inside of you. That’s why I have to stop this. There’s too much risk. If you keep giving into this, it’ll keep getting easier. You don’t operate like other people, the line will move higher and higher. Fine, the last two times, someone put a gun to one of us. I get that. But this? He is remorseful, he is helplessly tied to a chair. Are you going to execute him? For rape? What’s next? Someone insults me, you find him later and off him? There has to be a hard limit to this, or else you’re just a monster.”
Taylor’s face sinks when I say the word he has dreaded. The one he hoped I would never use against him. Because he knows it’s the word I use to describe my father, his terrorizer. I won’t be with a monster.
“Shy, I have to protect you. Even if it means that the rest of my life is shit. Even if you hate me for doing it.”
“There has to be another way.”
“Well then tell me, and I will do it.”
My thoughts scatter in different directions, searching for a solution. “Let him decide,” I proclaim.
“What?” he asks, almost laughing at the absurdity.
“You said it yourself. People will choose the right punishment. He wants to atone, let him choose his suffering. I know him, he loves his family, being away from them is what will hurt. Please, just give it a chance. Let him pick his poison.”
He steps back and paces in a small circle. “Fuck. Fine,” Taylor says as he glides his hand through his hair.
We return to the room, Rick is still laying with this back on the floor. “No! No!” he cries as Taylor rights him.
“We’re not going to touch you,” I say. “You better thank your fucking stars I’m here. You don’t deserve my mercy.”
“Here’s what we are going to do…you are going to tell me what we should do with you. Really do. If you say some bullshit, like just let you walk out of here, I will end you with my bare hands. She can only do so much for you.”
Rick lets out a loud sigh of relief. Taylor reaches for a sweatshirt, since he hasn’t exerted himself from beating Rick in a while and has cooled down. He slowly slides in one one arm at a time while he waits for a response.
“Um…um…I can give you everything I have, my computers, my sim cards. Any evidence I have about your life…” he looks over at Taylor, who waits expectantly with his arms crossed. Rick knows that’s not enough. He wouldn’t accept that response if the tables were turned. “I’ll go. I’ll tell my family I’m leaving town, and I’ll disappear. Far away. I won’t get in touch with them ever. They have been worried about me for a while, it’ll make sense to them that I just left.”
Taylor and I both know this is true, thanks to his mother’s oh-so-warm phone conversation with me.
“Never again. You may as well be dead to them after today.” Taylor confirms.
“Yes.”
“We’ll give you enough cash to start over. You leave the country. I don’t want to have any excuses for you to show your face again.” Taylor’s pragmatism stuns me.
“Okay, okay. I promise. I promise.”
Rick’s cry is a mixture of relief and terror.
“We’ll go to your place, clean everything out. When we are certain we have everything, we will pack you a bag, you will send out some emails, make a few calls, and you leave from here. No chance to see anyone. This is it.”
“Okay. Okay,” he nods emphatically.
“Fine,” Taylor says.
Ricks moans and begins to weep inconsolably. His life is over. In less than a year, he went from a software designer with a live-in girlfriend, to a spying rapist who will have to vanish.
“Lala…” Rick looks up at me with pleading eyes. He’s not asking to renege on his agreement. He’s asking for my forgiveness. But I would be lying if I say I grant it. Without responding, I turn and walk out of the room.
***
“Take off your clothes.”
“What?” I ask Taylor in disbelief.
“You have his blood all over your clothes. Strip down to nothing. I have spare items in the car.”
“Okay…okay,” I nod, trying to collect myself.
“It’s going to be okay, just stay calm. I promise, everything will be taken care of.”
My breathing hitches as I strip down. The drafty house cools the sweat off my skin, causing me to shiver. Taylor whips his clothes off too, kicking our pile to the corner of the hallway. “It’s ready,” he calls out. “Go in there.” He points to a closed door. I open up to a small bathroom with a clawfoot tub. There is no shower curtain on the ring above it.
“Harrison got the water working. It’s going to be cold. The heating system is old and barely heats the water.”
Somehow that terrifies me more than watching Taylor nearly beat my ex-boyfriend to death. He turns the tub faucet and a stream of water rushes out of the shower head. “I’ll go in first.” He steps in, hissing as the cold water washes over his body, mixing with the dry blood and turning into pink streams that run over his body. “Well, this fucking sucks,” he says through chattering teeth.
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