by A. R. Breck
I watch as it goes silent once again, only to start up a third time.
“Fuck it,” I say, swiping the answer button and putting the phone up to my ear. “Hello?”
“Rose! Where are yo—Wait, where’s Rose?” Rose’s mom asks in a worried yet annoyed tone.
“Uh... sleeping.” I cringe. Shit. I should have come up with a better response than that.
“Sleeping? Who is this? You certainly don't sound like Cara, and that’s who she was supposed to be going to the movies with last night.”
“She did. She uhh, they’re both sleeping. I’m Cara’s... brother.” I wince. Shit, this is going to blow up in my face for sure.
“Cara’s brother, huh? Well, you have Rose call me within the next two hours, or I’m calling the police to report a runaway.” The line clicks, signaling Rose’s bitch of a mother hanging up on me.
Jackson, who looks just as overwhelmed as I feel, starts rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. “Fuck, I haven’t even slept yet. Not in the mood for psychos.”
“We need Cara,” I say somberly. I was hoping Rose would be conscious before we brought Cara here. I’m worried about what Cara will do, or how she’ll react seeing her best friend and hearing what happened to her. We don’t have much choice now, though. The cops will be tearing through the park in a matter of hours.
Which is terrible, considering I have a dead body in my trunk.
“Okay, first, we need to get Cara over here to deal with her mom. Second, we need to figure out what we’re going to do with that piece of shit in my trunk. Let’s get moving, though. He’s going to start stinkin’ up my truck by the afternoon.”
Jackson gives me a nod and leaves while I go back to Rose and watch her.
Blink. Blink.
“Rose, Cara’s coming over. We need you to snap the hell out of it. I know it’s hard, and I know you’re lost, but I need you. I need you so fucking much, baby. Please.”
No response. What is it going to take for her to snap out of this?
Feeling helpless and needing something to do, I decide to take a shower until they get here. I have murder on my skin, and that’s never a good feeling.
When I get out, I get dressed and listen to Logan in the living room, consoling a crying Cara.
Great, just what I need is an emotional woman in my house when I’m already dealing with everything else.
“Let me see her! What happened? Why isn’t anyone telling me anything?” She cries, and I cringe at the headache that’s already coming on.
“Easton! What the fuck happened?” She screeches when I walk out through the living room, shutting the bedroom door behind me.
“Cara, sit down.” I bark. If she’s going to be panicked and basically Cara on steroids, I’m going to have to throw her ass out.
“No! Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!” She throws her hands up in the air like we’re inconveniencing her.
She doesn’t realize we’re all doing this for a reason. To protect Rose.
“Cara, sit the fuck down!” I shout, pointing to the couch beside me. Logan narrows his eyes at me at my tone, but doesn't say a word.
Cara’s eyes grow wide, and she does as she’s told. Logan sits beside her, resting a hand on her thigh, while Jackson leans up against the wall, seeming incredibly uncomfortable with this entire situation.
I glance at Logan, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of Cara’s face.
Cara looks directly at me. “Tell me what happened.”
Sucking in a lung full of air, I begin, “I found Rose last night. Out back, by the dumpster. She was being raped by that fuck from Woodbury, Corey. I can’t snap her out of it, Cara. She’s in some trance—” I don’t get the rest out before Cara lets out a horrified cry and dodges past all of us and bursts into my room.
“Rose!” Cara cries and leaps up onto my bed, running her hand over Rose’s face and dropping tears all over her cheeks. “Please wake up. I’m so sorry I left you. Damnit, this is all my fault!”
“Cara, stop. This isn’t your fault at all.” Logan says, walking into the room and peeling Cara off of Rose’s body. It’s difficult because Cara has her fingers curled around Rose, but still Logan just picks her up like she’s a piece of paper, much to Cara’s dismay.
“W-we promised each other that we wouldn’t l-leave each other. Look what happened! This is all my fault.” She wails.
“Cara, this guy was so hopped up on drugs that there is nothing that you could have done. What would have happened if he ambushed the both of you? Probably something even more horrific. You just don't know. Quit blaming yourself for someone else’s actions.” I say. Yeah, maybe they were supposed to stick together, but Corey was just completely unhinged.
Logan growls from beside me, angry at the thought of something happening to Cara.
I should learn to take my own advice and quit beating myself up. But as much as Cara is her best friend, and they had some crazy stick together pact, I’m her boyfriend. I’m her one. I’m her dark, and yet I still lost her.
“Where is the fucker? Did you fuck him up? Please, give me a gun and let me shoot him.” She seethes, spit flying out of her mouth with each word.
Logan, Jackson, and I all glance at each other, then glance at Cara. “Let’s go out to the living room.”
Silence ensues, and we all quietly glance at Rose before walking out of my bedroom. I close the door behind me, and we end up standing in a circle in my living room.
“He’s dead,” I say.
“What? Where?” Her eyes are wide, but she doesn’t seem as shocked as I would have imagined she would be.
“He’s in my trunk.” Her eyes grow even wider at this, if that’s even possible.
“What the hell is he doing in your trunk? What are you going to do with him?” She looks at all of us, but everyone ends up just looking back towards me.
“Well, first off. We need you to call Rose’s mom. She called this morning, and I answered. I ended up telling her I’m your brother and that she’s sleeping. She threatened to call the police if Rose didn’t call her. I need you to call her mom, make up a story, anything really. Something to get her off our backs until Rose snaps out of it, and we can take care of the body.”
“Okay. But what am I supposed to tell her?” She bites on her nails nervously. This weekend is getting to all of us.
“I don’t fucking know, Cara, or else I would have told her myself.” I snap. Shit. Fuck. I’m coiled so tight. I cannot. Fucking. Deal.
“Dude.” Logan frowns at me.
I sigh and turn back around, running a hand down my face and pacing my living room. I could call Rich, but he’s got his own dead body to deal with. I need to tell the boys about that, too. With everything that’s happened the last day, I haven’t had a chance to tell them that Leonard’s dead.
Fuck.
“Okay, I’ve got it. Where’s Rose’s phone?” Cara asks, snapping her fingers as an idea pops into her head.
I rush into my room and grab Rose’s phone before walking back and slapping it into her palm.
Cara unlocks Rose’s phone—I have no idea how she knows the password—and dials her mom.
“Hello?” She glances at us and puts the phone on speaker.
“Hello? Is this Cara?” The worried voice of Rose’s mother blares through the phone
“Yes, it is. I’m sorry about my brother earlier. He’s a pain in the ass and shouldn’t be answering the phone.” Cara gives me a look of anger and it instantly annoys me.
“I don’t care about that. Where is Rose?” Brenda barks out.
“Oh, yes. Rose and I went to the movies last night and must have eaten something bad. She fell asleep but woke up a little while ago and has since been in the bathroom, not feeling well. She wanted me to call you and let you know she will be home later—and not to worry.” I stare at her with lifted eyebrows. That’s one hell of a story to make up at the drop of a hat.
“Can I talk to her?” She presses
, ever the determined woman. She doesn’t sound like she believes her. It might be a decent story for being made up with no notice, but that doesn’t mean it’s a believable one.
“Umm, you know, let me go check.” She puts her hand over the phone and looks at us, shrugging her shoulders. Lifting the phone back up, she says, “I’m sorry, she’s just in the bathroom in a lot of pain. The food just went right through her. She said she would call you as soon as she can.” She cringes while she waits for her response.
“You tell her to be home tonight, or else I will come and pick her up myself.”
“Will do. Bye.” Cara clicks off the phone and tosses the phone on the couch. “Fuck, she didn’t buy it.” She bites at her nails again and looks up at us with worried eyes. “Are we all screwed?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. But at least you bought us some time. Thank you, Cara.” I say. Looking over at Logan and Jackson, “We need to deal with the body. Once it gets warm out, it’s going to start rotting in there and I don’t want to deal with that shit.”
“What are we going to do with him?” Jackson says, pushing off the wall and walking over to us.
“Toss him in the river. Hopefully, he will float far down the river before he’s found.”
“You know his dad is going to be hardcore looking for his ass. If they find him, we might be fucked.” Logan says, looking unsure. “Maybe we should just burn him in the woods and call it a day.”
“I will kill anyone who thinks that rapey Corey was the victim with this one. If that piece of shit randomly took a breath, I’d kill his ass all over again. And I would keep doing it, every single time. The shit deserves to die, and if it comes down to it, I will tell his father that, too.” I growl, pointing my finger in Logan’s face. If I end up going to prison for this shit, I won’t be the least bit sorry, either.
“Cara, do you mind staying here while we—” I’m cut off by the worst noise.
We all freeze up at the sound of screaming. We glance at each other and then look at the door, eyes wide and frozen in place.
It’s the worst noise ever.
The sound of Rose screaming. It sounds like someone is reaching inside her soul and tearing it apart bit by bit. The pain coming out of her mouth isn’t someone anyone should ever have to experience. Not ever. And it’s coming from Rose.
It’s by far the most guttural, painful, fucking soul-crushing scream that I’ve ever heard in my entire life.
Chapter Two
It wasn’t a dream.
Rose
Please. Oh, God.
Pain.
Pain on the outside. Pain on the inside.
What happened? Fuck, please say it was all a dream. It wasn’t, though. Because this pain is so excruciating, I know in no way was it a dream. It couldn’t have been.
My screaming proves it.
Did I even survive?
Did I want to survive?
There is a burning so deep inside of me, I’m almost afraid to find its source.
My ears are ringing from the horrible sounds that are coming out of me. I wonder if I were to bring my fingers up to my ears, I would find blood.
I can’t seem to stop—the screaming, that is. The moment I blinked and saw the yellow light of Easton’s bedroom ceiling, it’s like a switch was turned on.
Everything became real. Even the stuff I didn’t want to be real.
Bodies fill the doorway in a matter of seconds, and I see the only people I care about standing in front of me with a look of fear on their faces.
My screaming stops, but only because my voice gives out and the raw feeling in the back of my throat feels like sandpaper. I can barely swallow.
“Rose?” Easton walks towards me with a hesitant step. I’ve never seen him so apprehensive before. It alarms me and makes me feel devastated. What happened to me?
I know what happened, but how did this happen to me? How is this my life?
The moment he gets within touching distance, my body locks up, stiff as a board, and I arch away from him. His eyes shoot down to my body and what it’s unintentionally doing. His eyes turn black, and his mouth takes on a heavy frown.
“You’re afraid of me?” He looks hurt, and a little angry.
I can’t speak, not only because my throat is dry but also because I’m terrified of my soul tumbling out of my mouth along with whatever words Easton wants me to speak. My body has a mind of its own. I don’t want to be afraid of Easton, and I don’t want my body to curl away from him as if he’s the one who caused my pain.
I can’t help it, though, because the fire that’s burning my organs alive is so painful, my body absolutely refuses to succumb to any more tragedy. In this fight or flight battle, my body chooses to flight.
I can’t tell if what I’m feeling is too much, or nothing at all. I feel frozen in time, still as a statue, and my body feels anything but my own.
Easton stands there, obviously not sure what he should do now that I obviously don’t want his touch.
Everything is fuzzy, but I know what happened to me. From the look on everyone’s faces, they know what happened to me, too. I close my eyes, not able to witness the sympathy and pity directed towards me.
“Rose? Are you okay?” Cara walks towards me on the other side of the bed from what Easton is on. The moment she gets within touching distance, my body recoils again, and I arch away from her touch. “Rose?” Cara looks hurt, like Easton.
I can’t help how my body reacts at this point. No one should want to touch me, not anymore. I don’t want anyone to touch me, either. I feel wrecked, ruined, and so completely dirty. The thought of anyone laying a hand on me is enough to make me hyperventilate. I squeeze my eyes shut, embarrassed to be trapped in this tainted body.
“Rose,” Easton grumbles, but I don’t open my eyes. They know I’m still awake by the way my body is ramrod straight, coiled so tightly my muscles hurt.
“Cara, make her take the meds and take her home.” Easton barks out before stomping out of the bedroom, and eventually the trailer, the screen door slamming shut on his way out. A moment later, I hear two other heavy sets of feet leaving the trailer, leaving Cara and me alone.
I don’t want any company, but if I were to be alone with anyone, Cara is probably the safest bet right now. Easton's tone proved that he’s a loose cannon, and anything might set him off. With the situation that’s going on, that’s the last thing any of us need right now.
I open my eyes and glance over at Cara, seeing her wringing her hands together off to the side of the room, tears in her eyes leaking out and ending up running over her trembling lips. They hang on her bottom lip for a few moments, bouncing with her wobbly lips before making their grand escape to the ground.
Her tears don’t want to be near Cara’s pity. I don’t, either.
“Rose,” Cara sobs, “I’m so, so sorry. I should have never left you. It’s all my fault. If I had just followed you to the bathroom like we promised each other, you never would have—” She chokes.
Been raped is what she meant to say.
I close my eyes and turn away from her, burrowing myself under the covers that smell like Easton. I might not want to be touched by him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t find comfort in anything that smells like him.
I hear her walking away from me and the rustling of a bag, followed by the sound of a bottle opening. “Rose, can I give you these? You need to take them in case...” Wow, she just can't get her fucking words out, can she.
She’s right, though. And that makes me so incredibly sad. A darkness that I didn’t realize a single person could possibly feel seeps into my heart and covers every piece of light I have in me.
I couldn’t imagine holding a child with the face of my rapist staring back at me. Just the thought of it makes me want to curl into myself. I wonder what happened to him, Corey, that is. What Easton and the boys did to him.
But wait, I remember. I remember hearing the roar of Easton and the sound of his fists con
necting with a body.
I remember the sounds of Corey’s wails. His cries for the pain to stop. For someone to help him. He didn’t seem to listen to my pleas. Does he deserve anyone else to listen to his?
I remember the sound of a gun going off, shaking my chest and making my ears ring. The sound of blood splatter and brain matter connecting with the concrete.
Then no more wails. The silence that rose from the ground and quieted the sounds of the city around me. The only thing I could hear was the thump, thump, thump, thump of my heart in my ears that grew louder with each second.
I remember everything; I don’t remember seeing anything, but my ears will remember each sound that happened that night for a lifetime.
And lastly, I remember feeling the sense of death crawling over me, like the moment Corey died, his spirit had to linger over my body just to make sure he conquered what he came for. He had to be sure he ruined me for all others before being torn off this earth and dragged to hell.
Turning off my memories, I hold my hand out and flinch when I feel the small pills drop into my palm. Keeping my eyes closed, I toss them into my mouth and hold out my hand once again for the water, swigging down the pills and chugging down half of the water to soothe my sandpaper throat.
“Rose, Easton said your mom has been calling. We should go over there, get her off our backs for a little while.” She says in a soft tone.
Mom.
I nearly whimper. I wish my mom was someone that I could run crying to, have her hold me and comfort me. But I know I could never tell her what happened. The thought of saying the words out loud to anyone seems impossible. I could say it forever in my head, but letting these thoughts leave my lips? Not a chance.
I burrow further under the covers and pretend to fall asleep. I love Cara, but right now, I don’t need a friend. I need silence. I need solitude. I need darkness.
I hear her sigh and walk out to the living room. A moment later, I hear her talking on the phone. “Logan. Yeah, she took them. I don’t know. She doesn’t seem good at all. I’m so worried, Logan.” She hiccups a cry. “I know, I know. I asked her to go to her mom’s house, but she’s not moving. She’s not even talking, not one word. I’m telling you, the look in her eyes is not Rose. I don’t know what to do.”