Blood ran out of my nose and mouth as the strikes kept coming, one after the other.
"Derek!" I screamed out. "Stop! You don't want to do this!"
I thought he was finally going to kill me. I think he wanted to — planned to do it. He needed to kill one of us and Landon was gone now, safely getting farther and farther away from here. The violence, I was certain, was less about my cheating and more about the pain and agony Derek felt about the accident, about his tragic mistake.
Derek told me that he’d never let me leave and killing me was certainly one way of making sure I never did. I lowered my hands and waited for the final blow that would take me into unconsciousness and then death.
I wanted to be free of everything.
Somewhere in the haze, I heard the bell above the door jingle.
Derek looked over his shoulder and then a familiar voice was yelling, "You son-of-a-bitch!" Derek let go of me for just a split second and I saw Hannah, standing right inside the front door.
I opened my mouth, to tell my sister to get out of here, but all that came out was a gurgle as the air bubbled through the blood pooled in my mouth.
"Belle, sweetie?" she called out to me. Derek crouched between us, ready to fight in either direction.
I wiped the blood from my mouth on the sleeve of my sweatshirt and sat up feebly. "Hannah," I whispered. “Help me.”
"You fucking asshole!" Hannah screamed at Derek. "How dare you put your hands on my sister?"
"What are you going to do about it, bitch?" Derek sneered.
I don't know what I expected my sister to do — break down in tears, try to cast some hex on him, or simply run out of the store. This was most likely the worst thing she had ever witnessed. Hannah was not known for her ability to cope in stressful situations.
However, she didn't cry. She didn't have a meltdown. Instead, I watched in disbelief as my big sister dropped her purse and flew at Derek. She landed somewhere between his left shoulder and his waist. Her legs wrapped around him and one of her hands began slapping and hitting him, while the other hand dug deep into his cheek with her long fingernails, aiming for his eye.
He cried out in pain and four crimson trenches appeared in his skin where she scratched him. The fresh cuts began to drip blood.
"You...are...never...going...to...touch...my...sister...ever...again!" she said between strikes.
"Get off me!" Derek yelled, his arms flailing, trying to get a grip on Hannah, but she kept avoiding his grasp and continued to smack and scratch him.
I wiped at the blood oozing from the various injuries on my face and reached out for a piece of wood, grasped it in both of my hands and began beating any part of Derek that I could reach with it.
I was doing very little good. Every time I moved, the room would start to spin like a merry-go-round. Although, I had to admit, Hannah was holding her own. Derek couldn't get a hand on her and she was doing some serious damage as she slapped him, scratched him, and bit him.
Derek bent forward and used the momentum of his body to fling Hannah off him. She crashed into the antique counter and slumped to the floor.
"Hannah!" I crawled past Derek, to my sister's side.
She moaned, rubbing her head.
"Are you okay?" I asked her desperately.
"Yes. Are you?"
”Yeah.” Before I could say anything else, Derek yanked on the back of my hair and had pulled me up into a standing position.
"Derek, stop! It's over." I struggled against his grip. "This has already gone too far. Just let me go!" I implored him, hoping he would see reason.
"It will never be over," he hissed in my ear.
"What are you planning to do then? Keep me prisoner? Kill me? What?"
"Shut the hell up, Fanny!"
Hannah, meanwhile, grabbed the closest thing, a stapler on the counter, and began beating Derek with it. "Let her go you asshole!" She shouted as she pounded on him.
Derek grabbed hold of the stapler, wrenched it out of Hannah's hands, and threw it across the room. He dragged me toward the door and when Hannah tried to stop us, he simply flung her to the side. She fell to the floor and wasn’t moving.
"Hannah?" I called over my shoulder as Derek threw open the front door, and pushed me through it. This might be the last time I ever saw my big sister."Derek, what are you doing?” Theresa stood on the sidewalk out front, looking confused. She assessed me, covered in blood, with Derek’s hand gripping my hair. She was … horrified.
“This is none of your business.” He spat at her.
Theresa grabbed for his arm but he pushed her away and she fell back onto the pavement hard. She didn’t move, obviously in shock.
“Theresa,” I cried, but it was the only word I got out before Derek put his hand over my mouth.
"Don't worry, Belle," Theresa shouted as Derek dragged me away. I could hear that she was crying. "I'm calling the police. It'll be okay."
Derek thrust me toward the truck and shoved me in the driver's side. When I didn't move fast enough, his thick-soled boot kicked and pushed, on my backside, to force me into the truck.
“Where are you taking me?"
"Oh, we're just going to go for a little drive."
I tried to get through the cab and get out the passenger's side, but Derek grabbed me by the hair and pulled me back.
"Going somewhere?" He shouted into my ear, making it ring. His truck started with a roar and his tires squealed as we left the curb.
"Where’re you taking me?" I demanded again. "Derek!" I fought him, but he pushed me back to the other side of the cab. "Derek, where are we going?"
His phone rang; he reached for it and hit the button.
“What...Dad, I’m fine...”
Derek’s dad!
“Carl!” I screamed out. “Help me!”
Derek threw the phone down. “You stupid bitch! Always with the drama.”
“Where are we going?” I asked again but he still didn’t answer.
I needed a plan. I needed to get out of this truck. Flashing back to a self-defense workshop I had taken in college, I remembered learning that if someone grabbed me that my best hope for survival was not to allow them to get me in a vehicle.
Too late. What next?
The instructor had told us if you do find yourself in a car or truck, in this case, you had to get out...no matter what, because most likely you were going to die if you didn't.
This was no time to panic.
I didn't want to die. My strong will to live had kept me alive this long and I didn't want to leave my sister or my life with so many things undone. I knew what I had to do: I had to get out of this truck.
I studied the passenger door, knowing it was the only escape route I had. If the truck stopped, I would certainly be able to get out easily. I’d just open the door and leap to safety.
And if he didn’t stop?
I would have to wait until he slowed down enough for me to jump out. Jumping out of a moving vehicle was more dangerous, of course, but was it looked like my only option.
The only problem was that instead of slowing down, Derek was speeding up as we headed for the edge of town.
The truck squealed around the last turn in the road before we officially left the city limits. In a matter of seconds, we would be at highway speeds and my chance to escape would be gone. I leaned back and quietly unlocked the door, preparing myself for the jump. The shoulder of the road was thick with bushes that I hoped might help to break my fall.
I was grateful we weren't heading in the other direction. The other side of the highway, where the pavement ended just short of a steep embankment, was covered in jagged rocks that dropped off down to the beach. A jump from a speeding truck on that side would certainly kill me.
I reached for the door handle, ready to make my escape, and with all my strength, pushed the door opened.
With the sudden gust of wind and noise in the cab of the truck, Derek yelled out, "Fanny, shut the goddamned door, you crazy bitch!"
/> "Stop the truck, Derek!"
"Don't be stupid! Shut the door!" We swerved all over the road. Derek was trying to drive with one hand and pull me back in with the other, but I was just out of his reach. I scooted to the edge of the seat, holding onto the door for dear life to steady myself before I jumped but froze when I saw a familiar figure standing on the side of the road, waiting to cross.
Landon.
He saw us coming. How could he have missed us? We were crossing all the lanes of traffic and speeding up the road...making quite a scene that was impossible to avoid.
I felt the truck straighten out as my husband got control over the vehicle. He’d seen Landon too. We veered toward the shoulder now, heading straight for Landon and Landon wasn't moving.
"Let it go, Derek. Just drive!" My husband didn’t hear me. His eyes locked with Landon’s in a struggle I was no longer a part of anymore. Landon had always believed he should have died in that accident, and it was a mistake that he lived at all. He was going to let Derek finish what he started.
I would not allow Landon’s life to end like this.
He’d been spared, meant for something special. It wasn't a fluke that he wasn't in the car that night twenty years ago...it was truly divine intervention. He couldn't die here, on the side of the road.
Sirens screamed behind us − Thank you Theresa − but they were too far away. I pulled myself back into the cab of the truck and pulled the door shut.
"Derek, don't!" I cried, trying to reason with him. "Let's just go — keep driving. Do whatever you want with me. Just leave him out of this!"
But he didn't listen to me.
"Derek, look at him. That's Joey Peterson! You don't want to do this! You don't! Stop the truck, Derek. Please!” I kicked at him, pushing against the passenger door. It didn't work. The truck didn't waver. We picked up speed. "Derek, please! Don't do this!"
I only had seconds before we hit Landon. I flung myself across the cab of the truck and grabbed the wheel. It took all the strength I had to pull us in the opposite direction.
"What the fuck!" Derek yelled, caught off guard.
We veered into the other lane as Derek pushed me out of the way and got his hands back on the steering wheel. Instead of guiding the truck back into our lane, Derek over-corrected, and the truck began to skid on the pavement. The rear tires slid into the dirt on the shoulder of the road and kicked up dirt and rocks all around us. Still trying to get control of the vehicle, Derek pulled the front of the truck to the right just a little too far.
I screamed as I watched it all unfold in slow motion. The truck slammed into Landon. He hit the front bumper, rolled over the hood, and crashed into the windshield, sending a shower of glass down all around me, before he flew up over the cab and disappeared.
"Landon!" I twisted around in my seat, sobbing and trying to find any sign of him.
The rear end of the truck began to fishtail. I was tossed around the cab like a doll. Derek’s hands were all over the wheel and he slammed down on the brakes, trying to get the vehicle under his control.
"Derek, do something!"
The ground dropped out from under the truck as we went over the embankment. For a moment, we were airborne before the truck slammed into the rocks and began to spin and roll. My body flipped and turned in the cab. Jagged rocks pierced the metal and crumpled the pickup like tin foil. I reached out in the chaos trying to brace myself with each revolution of the truck.
Derek didn't make a sound.
As the truck slammed down for the final time, I catapulted through the small space that had once been the window. I reached out for something, anything to hold on to as I flew, out into the abyss.
Then, the entire world went dark.
Chapter Twenty-One
I woke to find myself sitting on the beach. The warm sun beat down on my back and I was at peace. There was no wind, and even though I could see the waves rolling in, they didn't make a sound. Mom sat by my side, her feet buried in the sand. She looked exactly as she did the day I graduated from high school.
"Am I dead?" I asked her frankly.
She shook her head. "No."
"Where’s Daddy?"
"He’ll get you when it's time. That’s not my job, though. I’m here to guide you through your life, Belle. To watch over you."
"All this time?"
“Yes.”
"You saw… Derek?" My voice trembled. "What he did to me?"
“Yes.”
"It hurt so bad, Mama. I was so lonely."
"You were never alone, baby. I was with you."
"You don't understand. I want to be with you again, Mama. Just like this. Please don't leave me."
"Sweetheart, remember that day at the beach when I told you that I would be with you wherever you are. I meant it. I will always be with you."
"I love you, Mama."
"I love you, too, baby. Now, I need to tell you something very important, and you must listen to me."
"Okay." She took my hand in hers and held it tightly.
"You have a purpose...just like Landon. You have some important things left to do, and you have to go back and finish them. Promise me."
"But how, Mama?”
"You need to start by living your dreams, not mine."
"I don't know if I can." I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. "I don't know if I'm strong enough."
"You are the strongest woman I know, my darling Annabelle. Now promise me."
“Okay.”
"Good.” She patted my hand. “It's time for you to go now."
My mother stood up, wiped the sand from her clothes, and reached out for me. I stood up too and she took me into her arms. Then she leaned back, placed both of her hands on my cheeks, and looked into my eyes, smiling.
"I am very proud of the woman you have become."
“Mama, can I ask you something? What can you tell me about Landon’s mom? And Sara and Elizabeth? Are they okay?”
My mom smiled. “Tell Landon that while you have one angel looking out over you, he has three. And they love him very much.”
Then my mom was gone.
I heard screeching beeps and struggled through the haze of darkness, to shut off my alarm clock. It was too soon...I wasn't ready to wake up.
I moved. It hurt...everywhere. I reached out, seeking to silence the source of the noise — stop the beeping. Warm hands were on my arms, pushing me back down as I tried to move.
"Mama?" I whispered, trying to open my eyes but they felt as if they were strapped closed with lead weights. After several feeble attempts, I was able to get them open for a just a second — long enough to be blinded by the bright fluorescent lights.
I cried out in pain.
"Excuse me. Can we please get some help in here?" Hannah. She sounded worried. I forced my eyes to open again and searched the room for her. Her image was blurry but I saw her standing by the door, talking to someone in the hallway.
"Hannah?" I called out to her. She was at my side in an instant, her hands holding my own.
"You're awake. Thank God. Everything’s going to be okay, Belle." Her tone was comforting. Just like Mom. Wait. Hannah was acting like Mom?
"Where's Mom?" I asked her. "She was just here."
"Sweetie, you hit your head. Try and relax."
"Where am I?"
"You're in the hospital." When she saw my eyes grow round she added, "But you’re going to be okay."
"The hospital?" My eyes darted around the room as though it would hold the answers. "What happened?"
"You were in an accident. Don't you remember, sweetie?"
"Sort of."
“How long have I been here?”
“Three days.”
Three days?
It was all really blurry. I tried to focus. "I was with Derek...in the truck," I recounted. "That's all I remember."
Hannah was pale, and the fear in her face made me worry. What wasn't she telling me?
; "How bad is it?" I looked around the room again, my eyes now able to focus on things this time. There were tubes, IV’s, and machines that beeped continuously scattered around my bed. My right leg was in a cast.
"Well, this one IV is for the pain." Hannah began a quick explanation of everything around me like a flight attendant, almost grateful for something to focus on besides my accident. "You may have noticed that you broke your leg. This is your saline bag, which is almost out and the nurse will need to replace it soon. This machine monitors your heart rate, which, they have told me hundreds of times, is strong. You’re a fighter.”
"Okay, who are you and what have you done with my sister?"
As far as I knew, Hannah had only set foot inside of a hospital one time in her life. She hated them. Every time in my almost four decades of life that I’d gotten so much as a sniffle, Hannah evaporated into thin air like Pete’s Dragon.
"Ha ha," she said and grabbed my hand. "I'm just glad you're okay. Can I get you anything?"
"I'm kind of thirsty." I watched in surprise as my sister, instead of hitting the call button and pawning the duty off on a nurse, hopped up, poured me a glass, and brought it back to my bed. Then she gently held the straw to my lips and I drank as if I had been in the desert for the past three weeks.
"Slow down, tiger. Don't you know we’re in the middle of a drought?"
I smiled at her and suddenly remembered my conversation with Mom on the beach. She told me that she would never truly be far away and in that moment, I realized what she meant. My mom would never actually be gone — because she was right here inside of Hannah and inside of me. No matter what happened in our lives, our mother would never be far as long as I kept my sister close.
"You're Mom..." I whispered, tears filling my eyes.
"What? I think you hit your head harder than we thought." She chuckled.
"No, I saw her...on the beach...in my dream."
"You had a vision?" she said, skeptically.
"Yeah. She said it wasn't my time yet. She told me that I’d been spared for a purpose and that she’d never be far away. She won't be...as long as you’re here with me...Mom will never really be gone."
Hannah laughed through her tears. "Well, I hope you aren't going to try and take over my palm reading and psychic business just because you had one vision."
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