Unchained Memories

by Dena Blake

  “I’d like that.” Jillian rubbed her hands on Amelia’s thighs before getting up and pulling Amelia into her arms. “Why don’t you go downstairs and find us some snacks for the road while I finish packing.” Jillian hugged her lightly.

  Amelia smiled that adorable smile, spun around slowly, and hooked her thumb over her shoulder as she left. “I’ll be waiting.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Jillian couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her face. Amelia wanted a life with her.

  She startled when Kelly pushed out of the bathroom. “You’re not going anywhere with her.” Kelly crossed the room and closed the bedroom door. “You’re coming back with me to New York. This is my family, not hers.”

  “Kelly.” Jillian’s mind spun. “How did you get in here? I mean, I didn’t know you were here already.”

  “Of course you didn’t. You failed to leave word where you went when you left the party.” Jillian could see blood on Kelly’s arm as she raked her fingers through her short black hair. “Do you know how long it took me to find you in this little town? Then you just left me at the party with that bitch’s ex.” She poked her finger toward the door.

  “I just had to leave in such a rush that I forgot.”

  “Such a rush that you forgot about the most important person in your life?” Her stare was wildly intense. If her eyes were lasers, they would’ve bored a hole right through Jillian.

  “I’m sorry, Kelly. It was thoughtless of me. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She remembered what Marcus said about letting her believe she had control. Marcus, where the hell are you?

  “It was thoughtless.” Kelly moved swiftly across the room, startling Jillian again. “And what were you thinking when you changed your hair?” She rubbed a strand between her fingertips. “That sandy-blond color was just awful. I’m glad you fixed it, but I’m not happy you’ve cut it so short.” Jillian watched Kelly’s intensely green, red-rimmed eyes as they skittered back and forth. She was in manic mode. “You should have asked me first.”

  “Yes. I should have.” Jillian’s gaze veered to the door when she heard Abby’s voice.

  “Mom, I’m home. What’s so important? My friends are all going to Sara’s to spend the night. Can I go?” Abby asked as she pushed open the door.

  Kelly moved to the door and slammed it shut behind her. “It’s so nice to see you, Abigale.”

  “Mom?” Abby backed up next to her. “Who is that?”

  “It’s so cute that she calls you Mom.” Kelly looked over at her. “You can call me Aunt Kelly.” She grabbed a strand of Abby’s hair and twirled it around her finger. “This is what your hair should look like.” She snapped her gaze back to Jillian. “Thankfully she has your eyes, not mine.” She turned back to Jillian. “I want to see your beautiful blue eyes.” Kelly stood quietly for a moment, gazing deep into Jillian’s eyes. “Get rid of those contacts you’ve been wearing. I don’t want you to ever wear them again.”

  “Okay.” Jillian took Abby’s hand and moved toward the bathroom.

  Kelly picked up the box of contacts from the dresser. “Throw them in the trash.”

  Jillian noticed a kitchen knife lying next to the box. She hadn’t put it there. Keeping Abby shielded behind her, Jillian trembled as she took the contacts from Kelly and threw them in the trash basket.

  Abby tugged at the back of Jillian’s shirt. “Mom, I’m scared.”

  “It’s okay, honey. Kelly’s not going to hurt us. Right?”

  Kelly’s eyes went wide, and her face broke into a crazy, delirious smile. “Of course not. I would never hurt my family.”

  Amelia finished packing the snacks and headed back up the stairs. Taking the steps two at a time, she bounced up quickly and pushed the door open. It slammed back in her face. “What the hell?” She touched her nose, felt the warmth of the blood spilling onto her lip. She went to the hall bathroom, grabbed a wad of toilet paper, and held it to her nose. “Jillian.” She tried to turn the doorknob, but it wouldn’t turn. “Jillian,” she said louder. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Abby and I are just having a private chat.”

  A private chat? What’s that about? You almost broke my nose. “Okay.” She drew the word out slowly. “Anything I can participate in?”

  “Not really. We’re talking about college. She’s thinking about going into meteorology like Logan. You wouldn’t know anything about that.”

  “But I thought—”

  “Maybe Blake can help us out,” Jillian shouted through the door.

  Amelia heard footsteps and then a muffled voice as something slammed against the wall. Fuck! She’s here. She rushed down the stairs, then out front. Headlights blinded her as she stumbled across the yard to see if she could catch a glimpse of them through the window.

  “What’s going on?” Marcus raced up the walk and stood next to her.

  “I think Kelly is up there with Jillian and Abby.” All she could see was the shadowy figure of someone’s back.

  “How the hell did she get here so fast?”

  “I don’t know.” Amelia ran inside and called Blake. She just hoped he’d taken his phone in with him when he went to help David with his car. Adrenaline shot through Amelia when she heard his voice. “I need you now. Jillian and Abby are in trouble. Her crazy ex-girlfriend has locked them in Jillian’s room upstairs.”

  “On my way,” Blake said, and the phone went dead.

  Amelia and Marcus raced back up the stairs. “Kelly, it’s Marcus. Can I come in?” Marcus asked as he knocked on the door gently.

  “Marcus. Sure. Why not? Come on in and join the party.”

  Amelia heard the lock turn and caught a glimpse of Jillian and Abby as the door opened. Marcus slipped through the small opening, and the door slammed back into place. Amelia pressed her ear against the door in an attempt to hear what was being said.

  “Can you talk some sense into this girl?” Kelly said. “She colored her hair that awful blond.”

  “I know. I convinced her to change it back. Right, Jillian?”

  “Yes. Marcus has been helping me through a lot of things since he got here.”

  “I’m super thirsty, aren’t you? Why don’t we let Abby go downstairs and get us a few bottles of cold water?” Amelia heard Marcus trying to reason with Kelly. There was no sound for a minute or two, and she heard the door unlock again. She jumped to the side to hide from view as the door pulled open and Abby came out. Amelia put her fingers to her lips and pulled her down the stairs to the first landing. “Does she have a weapon of any kind?”

  Abby shook her head as tears spilled out of her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. “There’s a knife on the dresser. Who is she? She’s acting crazy. She’s holding my mom around the waist.”

  “I know.” Amelia could see the terror in Abby’s eyes and took her into her arms. “She’s someone who’s fixated on Jillian. I want you to go downstairs and wait for Blake. He should be here any minute.” She took Abby’s hand, pressed it to her lips, and whispered, “It’s going to be all right.”

  Abby nodded and padded down the steps slowly. Amelia headed back up the stairs but spun around when she heard the stampede of footsteps coming into the house and met Blake and Steve Wright halfway up the steps.

  “Kelly has her and Marcus locked in the bedroom,” Amelia whispered.

  Blake looked confused. “She followed her here from New York?”

  “Yes. She was at the fund-raiser. She’s been stalking her.”

  “How did she get in the house?” Steve asked.

  “I don’t know. We stopped at my place before coming here, but it was just a matter of minutes.”

  They heard a scuffle, Jillian screamed, and Amelia’s heart thundered. Then she heard a loud thud. Amelia started up the stairs, but Blake stopped her and pressed his cell phone into her palm. “Call the police,” he said and sprinted upstairs.

  “No! This will not happen again,” Steve said, following him.

&n
bsp; Amelia punched in 911 as she raced up the stairs behind them. “Someone’s holding my girlfriend with a knife. They’re locked in the bedroom upstairs.”

  “Are you still in the house, ma’am?”

  “Yes. I’m in the house.”

  “Please, go outside and wait for the police to arrive.”

  “No. I’m not leaving here.”

  “Ma’am, please. You need to wait for the police outside. They’re on their way.”

  “Tell them to hurry. Please.” She ran outside and looked up at the window to Jillian’s room. She dropped the phone to the grass, ran to the trellis, and started up. Pain sliced through her as the thorns from the rose bush ripped at her hands and legs. As she neared the window opening, she slowed, holding tightly against the copper piping, trying to catch some of the conversation inside. She could hear Jillian faintly. She’s still by the door. Amelia moved up slightly to gauge their positions in the room. Kelly had her back to the window, holding a kitchen knife by her side. Marcus was on the bed, leaning against the wall. The sleeve of his pink shirt was now crimson, soaked with blood. Jillian was shaking but somehow holding it together. Her face was calm, smiling almost, as she watched Kelly. Marcus must have gotten Jillian out of her grasp somehow. When Jillian spotted Amelia, she saw the flash of alarm in her eyes. Kelly must have seen it too, because she started to turn, but someone knocked on the door. Kelly moved toward Jillian, but she circled around the bed to the other side.

  “Kelly, why don’t you let us in so we can talk.” Blake’s muffled voice came through the door. “Jillian’s told me so much about you.”

  “This isn’t going to solve anything. She’s not going to let us in.” Steve’s voice resonated through the door, and Amelia could see something in Jillian’s eyes. Panic? Fear? Terror? Amelia wasn’t quite sure what it was, but Jillian wasn’t looking at Kelly anymore. She was looking at the door.

  Jillian heard the voice, and a memory from fifteen years ago came rushing back. She was in her parents’ bedroom peering through the slats in the closet door. She heard voices arguing. Her mother’s voice: “Tommy, don’t. I promise. I won’t see him again.” Then her father’s voice: “I’ll make sure of that.”

  Jillian watched as her mother stood behind her father, her hand on his arm. Her father’s arm was outstretched, his hand holding a gun pointed across the room at someone. She couldn’t see who it was. “No, Tommy, please,” her mother said, pulling at his wrist. They were face-to-face, the gun between them, then an earsplitting pop. Her mother slumped and fell to the floor, her shirt stained in red. She looked over at Jillian, caught her eyes through the space in the slats, and smiled, and then she went still. Feet, large feet were by her mother’s side. Jillian followed them up to see her father’s face, tears streaming down his cheeks. His arms hung by his side, a gun in one of his hands. She didn’t understand why her father would shoot her mother.

  Then she saw him, the man who went with the voice. “Tommy, give me the gun.” Steve Wright, the shop teacher at the high school. Her father put the gun in his mouth. Steve tackled him to the floor, his hands wrapped around Jillian’s father’s hands, struggling for the gun. Then another earsplitting pop, and blood spilled out onto the floor from her father’s chest. Steve got to his knees, stared at her father’s lifeless body, then swiped at his face with his hands. Steve was crying too. He got up, went over to Jillian’s mother, dropped to the floor, and cradled her mother in his lap. He held her for what seemed like an eternity before placing a light kiss on her forehead. Then he picked up the phone, punched a few buttons, and left the receiver on the nightstand. He was gone.

  Everything had slowed to half speed for Jillian. She heard a loud banging sound and could see Kelly talking, but she couldn’t understand what she was saying. She followed her gaze to the door and watched the knob turn. She could hear the tumblers as it moved—tick, tick, tick. Then in a whoosh, it was open. Everything went black.

  Amelia watched Kelly hurdle the bed, grab Jillian, and pull her into the corner of the room by the closet. Shit! Amelia struggled to pull herself through the window opening and onto the bed where Marcus was lying half-conscious. Kelly was having trouble holding Jillian up. Her eyes were closed. She’d passed out. Kelly couldn’t hold her. She let her limp body slide down in front of her, and then Steve was on her. Kelly stabbed at him with the knife, cutting him across the belly, blood splattering across the wall.

  In seconds, Steve’s stomach and side were soaked with blood, but that didn’t stop him. He held Kelly to the wall, struggling for the knife as Blake pulled Jillian from between them. Blake motioned for Amelia to take her, dropped Jillian into her arms, then scrambled back to help Steve, who now had Kelly pinned to the floor. Amelia swayed backward onto the bed with Jillian. Her heart raced as Marcus put his fingers to her neck, checked her pulse, and nodded.

  Blake was on his hands and knees now, struggling to free the knife from Kelly’s grip. He slammed it against the floor, then again against the leg of the side table as their positions shifted. The knife flew from Kelly’s hand, and Steve fell to the side. Blake clenched Kelly’s shirt with both hands, pulled her forward, and slammed her head against the floor. Kelly blinked and stared up at him blankly. Amelia heard the smack against Kelly’s face as Blake hit her and then the sickening crack of her jaw when he hit her again.

  Blake continued to hammer her until Steve grabbed his arm to stop him. “That’s enough.”

  Blake looked up at him as though in a daze, then over at Amelia and at Jillian. She could see the rage in his eyes. All the abuse from his past had been unleashed in full force.

  “She’s okay, just unconscious,” Marcus said, and Blake hung his head.

  As the sirens became more distinct, Blake pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll talk to the police,” he said and left the bedroom.

  * * *

  When Jillian woke, Amelia was asleep, her head lying on the bed, her fingers intertwined with Jillian’s. She brushed away the short strands of auburn hair splayed across Amelia’s cheek.

  “You’re awake.” Amelia opened her eyes and smiled.

  “You’re here.”

  She nodded. “How could I not be?”

  “How did I get here?”

  “Ambulance.” Amelia got up and perched on the side of the bed. “You passed out.”

  “Are you okay?” Jillian pulled her brows together and slid her fingers across the bandage wrapped around Amelia’s hand.

  “I’m fine. The rosebush and I tangled a little, that’s all.”

  “When I saw you through the window, I was so afraid you were going to—”

  “Do something stupid?” She pulled her lip up to the side.

  “Get hurt.” Jillian pulled her down and kissed her softly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Amelia pressed her cheek to Jillian’s face. “You scared the daylights out of me.”

  “Did the police come? Did they catch Kelly?” Panic rushed through her.

  “Hey, shush.” Amelia took Jillian’s face in her hands, looked into her eyes. “She’s locked up in a secure room.”

  “What if she gets loose? She could—”

  “She’s not going anywhere. It’ll take a while for her to heal. I don’t even think she’s conscious. Blake went after her pretty good.”

  “Oh, my God. Blake!” Her stomach clenched.

  “Blake is fine, except for a few bruised knuckles.” Amelia took her hands and held them tightly.

  “What about Marcus? Kelly stabbed him.”

  “He won’t be playing catch anytime soon, but they got him all bandaged up, and he’s doing okay. He’s just a couple of doors down from you, and he’s not at all thrilled that his favorite shirt is ruined.”

  “And Steve. Where is he?”

  “He’s on a different floor.”

  “He was hurt too?”

  “Yeah. He has a pretty severe gut wound, but he probably saved your life.” A
melia smiled. “I’ll have to thank him for that.”

  “I need to see him.” Jillian attempted to move and winced at the pain in her shoulder. She must have fallen on it.

  “The doctor said you should rest.”

  “No. I need to see him now.” Jillian threw the blanket back.

  “Uh, okay. Hang on. Let me get a wheelchair.”

  “I don’t need a wheelchair. I’m fine.” Jillian stood, pulled the blanket from the bed, and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “If you want me to take you to Steve, you’ll ride in a wheelchair.”

  “Fine.” Jillian sank back down onto the bed. “Can we hurry, please?”

  By the time Amelia got back, Jillian was standing at the door waiting for her. “Marcus was worried you might have a head injury.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my head.” Jillian slid into the wheelchair.

  “I can see that. Still the same willful woman I fell in love with.” Amelia chuckled, and Jillian hopped back out of the chair.

  “What did you just say?”

  “That you’re stubborn as hell?”

  “No, the love part.”

  Amelia moved to her and took her in her arms. “I’m still in love with you.” She brushed a strand of hair from Jillian’s forehead and tucked it behind her ear. “There’s no getting around it. I have been since the first moment I saw you fifteen years ago.”

  Jillian took in a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears clouding her vision. She felt their warmth stream down her cheeks. “I didn’t know if you could ever forgive me.”

  “I didn’t know either until I almost lost you.” Amelia’s blue eyes shimmered, wet with tears. “Funny how a crazy woman with a knife can give life a little clarity.”

  “I love you, too, Ames. I never stopped.” She pulled her in, held her close. Everything felt right. Then there were kisses. Soft, slow kisses, interrupted only by small sobs and moments of joyous laughter. Being in Amelia’s arms was the most wonderful feeling in the world to Jillian. A feeling she thought she would never have the opportunity to experience again. She held her close, afraid she would disappear again just as she had in all of her dreams. Jillian pulled away and looked into her eyes. She didn’t want to let her go, but she had to deal with her past. “I need to see Steve.”