“If you know what’s good for you love, you won’t say anything. You won’t make a sound. If you do, he’ll pay for it.” His voice isn’t more than a whisper but I can hear it because he talks right into my ear.
The smell of dirt and alcohol wafts off him when he moves; his breath is rancid and triggers my gag reflex. But I do as I’m told. I don’t make a sound, I allow him to lead me to the back door, down the steps, to the side of the house and out the gate door.
All I keep thinking is that I hope Angel is okay. I hope he doesn’t try to be a hero again, I hope he lets me go. I don’t want to think what he can do to Angel, what he could be doing to him right now. It was part of his appeal when I first met him, that bad boy persona, with friends who would do whatever he asked. I realize in this moment that I never loved him, I was afraid of him. It was fear that kept me rooted in place.
We get into a car that I’ve never seen before, as the other person walks out the side gate, gets in the driver’s side and we take off. I look back at the beautiful house, the beautiful life I was given the chance to live, and the home where my heart is. A tear slides down my face as I say a silent goodbye and hope that he’s okay.
“I don’t know why you thought you could get away from me, love. I made sure no one would give you anything so you would have to come back to me. Instead I hear you’re running around with him, living with him, sleeping with him,” he seethes.
I do my best to ignore him, to not even look at him, and then it happens. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoes throughout the car. My face heats where his handprint is sure to be imprinted in my flesh. Tears sting my eyes but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I blink them away and retreat into myself. What I really want to do is use the cast to hit him, but that won’t do anything. I can hear an annoying buzz in the back of my head, but I don’t know what he’s saying. All my focus is on the first time Angel kissed me, the way his blues eyes shine, the way his smile lights the entire room, and the way his face lights up when I’m around him. I focus on the happiness that was growing inside of me. The way the two pieces of me were beginning to meld together and how I was beginning to feel whole. I focus on Whisper’s depot district and how the buildings are so old and magnificent. The way the car bounces driving over the bricks. The way the sun illuminated everything beautifully in the backyard at home. I focus on how each sunrise was the promise of a new day, a new me, and a new us.
I swallow hard and then I’m being pulled from the car. Emptiness. The place that I once called home is nothing now. It’s a nightmare, in a never ending loop cycle. It’s everything I despise now, and yet—it’s a wakeup call. I know exactly what’s going to happen if I walk through that door and I know what he thinks will happen, too. I look over at Timo and his thug, here with the sole promise of scoring some sort of narcotic in exchange for his help, and I start trying to come up with a plan. A way of getting away before it’s too late. I won’t be that girl that needs to be saved, again. I’m going to be a force, a force that won’t lie down and be used and abused.
I can hear them talking about how Angel put up a fight, but the thug say he was able to land a solid punch leaving Angel on the floor long enough for him to escape. That’s when a tear slips out. I start looking around trying to figure out how I can run. I’m good at this. Running. If only I had my shoes on I could just take off in the field. The one good thing about growing up in the country in the south is crop fields. The land owner planted his crop early this summer. It’s the end of July and it’s about ready to be harvested. I can see the cotton picker a little ways off working its way through that patch of cotton. If I can make it there I can at least hide and pray that he won’t come after me.
Before I give myself any solid reason to stay, like having no shoes on, I take off running as fast as I can. I stumble as the cotton stalks slap me in the face, catch on my clothes, and sting my feet. I hear them behind me, gaining on me, and I picture Angel’s face. I can feel adrenaline start to course through my body, into my muscles, tightening them, urging me to move faster and faster. I can hear them behind me but nowhere near as close as they once were.
I can’t see where I’m going, that’s one bad thing about these fields. I hope I’m going in a straight line and not in a circle. Then I see it; the top of the green cotton picker comes into view and I can hear the sound of it chopping down stalk after stalk of cotton. I momentarily pause because I have no idea where to go from here. I don’t want to cause the farmer any trouble and Timo and his help will do exactly that. Cause trouble. So I keep running. I stay within the stalks that haven’t been cut but that I can easily see through. I see them talking to the farmer, asking him if he saw where I went. I continue to go a little deeper into the crops so I stay hidden when I hear the sound of passing cars. Staying close to the sound of traffic, I start feeling optimistic. I did it. I got away, again.
You know that saying ‘don’t count your chickens before they hatch’? There’s so much truth in that statement, because as I’m thinking I’m free again my face meets the dirt and everything goes black.
Chapter 15
I try to move and can’t. I can taste rust on my tongue so I know I was bleeding from either my nose or my lip. My shirt is sticky and wet. My arms are rubbing against the wood floor, so I know my hoodie was removed. I don’t feel the scratchiness of the floor on my legs so my jeans must still be intact and on.
I try to see where I am, even though I know I’m in the godforsaken shack, but my head swims and black spots start dancing across my vision. Awesome. I lay my head back down and try to move my wrist when the rope slices into my skin. I bite my tongue to suppress my cry. I can’t believe I’m tied up. Actually I can believe it. Timo has always been an ass but I never imagined him taking it this far.
I hear movement at my back and I try and scoot out of the way when more pain sears its way through my body.
“You might as well stop trying to get free, Nevaeh. You’re mine. Don’t you understand that, baby?” He slurs.
Great I’m dealing with a drunken Timo, his short temper has just become ten times shorter. I remain still, no reason to provoke the beast, right?
“I’ll cut you lose if you promise not to run again. It’s already dark so you won’t get far. There’s nowhere you can go that I won’t find you. It’s me or nobody, love,” he threatens.
“Go to hell, Timo! If this is the scenario where you keep threatening me, telling me if you can’t have me no one can, that’s just fine. Be done with it already. Shoot me, make me overdose, I don’t give two shits how you kill me, but I will never and I mean NEVER be with you again,” I scream at him.
The idiot laughs at me and then kicks me in the back. I’m pretty sure a couple more of those will cause internal bleeding and if I’m lucky immediate death. Then Angel won’t have to worry about me. I can watch over him with my parents and sister.
“Is that all you have, Timo? Come on, I know you can do more damage than that. You want to know all the details of me and him?” I goad him, which earns me another kick. I smile, “That’s right, baby, he ran his hands all over me, kissed every inch of my skin, and left me begging for more. He satisfied me in a way your ass never could, and he didn’t leave me wanting. He took care of me first. And god, can that boy move inside me.”
I hear something crack and then I feel a trickle start at the back of my head. The sound of water dripping on the floor is so loud at first and then starts dulling. My eyes are slowly shutting. It’s not water hitting the floor, its blood. My blood. It’s soaking my hair and I know if I could see the way I look my hair would be blood red. Literally.
I know head wounds bleed heavier than any other wound, so it must not be fatal or Timo would be freaking out. I open one eye to see him at the table snorting something. Well, he’s not freaked out enough to stop doing that. I try to see if I can loosen the ropes on my hands without drawing his attention. They cut deeper, but slowly loosen with each twist, tug, and
pull. I’m out of energy. Maybe the cut is worse than I thought. I see Timo getting ready to raise his head so I stop moving, hold my breath, and close my eyes to slits. He looks up at me, his face goes white, and he starts freaking out.
He runs to the room and I can hear draws opening then slamming. His footsteps pound the floor, making enough noise that I can let out a breath and take another. He grabs a needle off the table and stabs his arm. His face relaxes for a moment, he looks at me one last time, and then he’s out the door.
I can still feel blood flowing out of me and I know I need to get free before I’m unable to move anymore. I’m pulling on the ropes and finally loosen one enough so I can pull my hand free. At least I’ll only have rope burns on one hand. I quickly work the knot on my cast and when it’s free I start working on my legs. I stand up and wobble to the side. My shirt is covered in blood. The floor has a massive puddle and my hair is crimson.
I manage to stumble to the door and attempt to open it when Timo comes flying through it. I land on my ass to the right of the door. I mumble ouch and pass out. I come to when I hear sirens but I can’t see anything. I feel arms around me and I start freaking out. I’m trying to get away from the person I can’t see until I hear the most beautiful voice. A voice I didn’t think I was ever going to hear again.
Its melody soothes me and I stop fighting. I’m being placed onto a hard surface but my eyes won’t work. I hear beeping, talking, and my Angel’s voice. I manage to open my eyes and find him talking to an officer. He glances over at me and our eyes lock. I smile as he walks over to me.
“Nevaeh, I’m so sorry,” he has tears in his eyes and he’s choking up.
I clear my throat but I’m unable to speak above a whisper so he puts his ear to my mouth. I only have energy to say a few things before I go so I make it count. “I love you, Angel.” The beeping stops and those electric blue eyes go wide as I slip away.
I feel like I’m floating.
Drifting.
No care. No worries. Just free.
That’s when I see them. My parents and my little sister, but they don’t look happy, they look sad.
“It’s not time for you to join us princess,” my dad says.
“We love you, Nevaeh,” they say.
Then I feel my body lift off the table while air is being pumped into my mouth. It feels like the time I stuck my finger in a light socket. I can feel all the tingles spreading through my body and all my hair sticking out straight. I cough and try to pull the bag off my mouth, when my hand is smacked away.
“Don’t you dare, beautiful. You let them pump you with oxygen and whatever else they have to. You’re not leaving me until I say so, you hear me?” His voice is shaky, uncertain.
I just nod my head and I feel him kiss my knuckles. The drive to the hospital takes forever and the EMTs talk to me constantly but I just want to shut my eyes and rest. If they remain closed longer than a blink, either Angel or the EMT is shaking me awake. When we get to the ER I’m placed in a room right away and I’m stuck with needles. Then nothing.
Chapter 16
I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. No scratch that, I feel like I was run over by a semi and dragged before I was deposited on the side of the road. My body is heavy, I can’t move my arms or legs, and my head feels like it’s locked in place with head gear.
I’m able to open one eye to no more than a slit, but the light hurts so much that I close it again. I feel movement on the bed next to my right hand, hair brushes over my knuckle, and then a kiss is placed on the top of my hand. Angel. That’s the only explanation of who could be here. Right? Images start to assault me and the face of Timo pops up behind my eyelids. That’s all it takes for them to shoot open to see who’s sitting next to me. In the same instant the light hits my eyes, my head shifts, a gasp escapes my mouth, and the head of the person next to me snaps up.
“Beautiful, don’t move, “he says.
My anxiety and worry that it’s Timo next to me evaporates. I stop moving and try to open my eyes again but quickly close them.
“I’ll get the lights, babe, keep your eyes closed until I say to open them.”
I can hear him shuffle the chair back, pad across the floor, and the click of the light switch.
“Okay, try to open your eyes now,” he speaks softly, careful.
I open my eyes slowly, cautiously, and I can see, barely. It reminds me of how I viewed everything under the influence and I hate it. I close my eyes again and tears streak down the sides of my face. I shouldn’t be alive. Why is it I keep being given chance after chance to live life when life keeps trying to get rid of me?
Soft fingers wipe away the tears that flow freely. No end in sight and I can’t bring myself to care, to be embarrassed that his guy next to me has been forced to see me cry more than once, forced to save me more than once. I should be grateful, I am grateful, but I also remember that he said nothing when I told him I was ready for there to be something more, to define our relationship, for there to be a relationship. Instead I got a look, granted he was searching for something, searching to for a hint of certainty that I was serious, but after minutes passed and nothing was said, I gave up. Sometimes silence is louder than words.
I promise myself right then that I will never cry over a guy again. I promise myself that I will take an opportunity when presented with one. I won’t hide anymore. I won’t run when I’m scared. I will stand up and face anything directed at me. I won’t let myself be the victim anymore. So to put the past behind me, I need to know what happened to Timo. I need to know if I have to worry about him coming back again or if I should pick up and leave Whisper all together. It’s an idea that makes sense. Why stay when all that’s here are bad memories and the chance of running into Timo again?
“What happened to Timo?” I ask, barely audible.
Angel looks at me and I can see in his eyes that something major happened. I know I should feel sad about it, but I don’t. I don’t feel empathy; I don’t feel anything but relief. Justice. I’m sure that makes me a bad person but I’ll take it.
“Do you really want to know?” His voice tells me I don’t.
“Yes,” is all I say in reply.
His face falls, but he nods his head once. “After you said you wanted there to be an ‘us’ and I didn’t reply right away, you got up and walked away. I was coming after you when one of the guys punched me in the face. By the time I came to, you were gone, and I knew he would take you to his house.” He stops.
I nod my head to continue. Trying to calculate how long I was gone and how he found me.
“I asked your friend Elise where y’all lived that night I had the confrontation with Timo, just in case you went back there. I knew he was going to take you back there because he thought it was safe. A cotton field that hasn’t been harvested yet, he thought it would conceal y’all, but I’m not easily deterred when something that’s mine is taken from me.” He looks me in the eyes and my heart rate picks up.
The monitor beeps erratically and a nurse comes running in. Angel assures her everything is okay and she leaves with a wave and tells me to buzz her if I need anything.
“It took me a little while to actually locate the crappy excuse he gave you for a home. It was night by then and I wasn’t sure it was the right house until he came running out looking scared as hell. I stopped him to see where you were because something had to be wrong if he was fleeing like that. He said you were dead,” he chokes out.
“So I told him to show me where you were. When he pointed to the house I threw him through the door at the same time you were trying to get out.” He looks at me, horror etched all over his face, “Nevaeh, I’ve never seen so much blood and Timo tried to escape when I went to check on you. I stood up and punched him once in the stomach. He dropped to the floor and never got up. I called the ambulance and they tried working on him in another ambulance but they said he had so many drugs in his system that he overdosed.” He looks away.
&nbs
p; I know he thinks he killed him by landing that punch to his stomach, but he didn’t. I know he’s going to beat himself up every day thinking it was his fault. It’s going to change him and I don’t want that. I want Angel to remain himself. So I try to gather enough energy and spit in my mouth, because well, my mouth is dryer than the desert summer.
“Angel, listen to me. You had nothing to do with Timo’s death. If you had seen him snorting whatever it was he snorted and injecting himself with whatever he injected himself with, you would know he was going to die. It wasn’t a matter of if; it was only a matter of when. He doesn’t have a car so he probably would have passed out in the field and never woke up, so if anything you did him a favor.” I stop to take a breath, “So don’t let this get to you, you are not a murderer. When you leave this hospital you will not think about him ever again, do you hear me?”
He nods his head, “Okay, beautiful.”
I know he’s trying to eliminate my worry. This is going to be an ongoing battle for him and I hope he wins it. He doesn’t deserve any of this and I brought it all to him. I need to let him go. I told him I was going to break his heart in some way, I just didn’t think it would be because he was trying to save me.
“Angel, you need to go,” I say, not looking at him.
“What?” he sounds confused.
“You need to go. I told you I would break your heart and I did, just not in the way I thought I would. I brought this to you, so you need to go. Now.” I try to make my voice as hard as I can. I try to place that mask upon my face that I haven’t needed since I met him.
“I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to say this to you, Nevaeh, but get it through that stubborn head of yours. I’m not going anywhere. I chose to stand by you, to be there for you, to be with you. Do. You. Get. That. Beautiful?” He yells and enunciates each word at the end.
Deviation (Deviate Series) Page 9