“I get why you see me,” Ty continues. “I mean, you butchered me like a maniac, but why the sounds? Seems silly to me, to be honest.”
I groan and lean over the steering wheel, forehead nearly touching the windshield. As the houses grow further apart, the trees grow closer together. The sun is rising. It’s nothing but a distant glow as we drive further away from civilization. Everything is painted the color of an angry bruise, like the world was given a beating it no more deserved than understood.
TICK. TICK. TICK.
My vision fails and I scream. I can’t tell where my feet are, whether I’m pushing the brake or the gas. I can’t feel my hands. Holy shit, did I just die?
A smack upside my head startles me back into consciousness. I lift my head and see I’ve managed to guide the car off the road, between a set of enormous trees, and down a slight embankment. It’s still running and appears intact.
“You’re one lucky son of a bitch,” Ty says, her voice sounding slurred and garbled.
Still shaking and sweating, I turn and see Ty’s bleeding. From a battered mouth and nose, blood pours forth, soaking her torn shirt and collecting in a growing puddle around her feet.
“Ty?” I ask.
She looks at me quizzically, but then both arms jerk over her head and she screams. Her seat reclines all the way back and she’s stretched atop it by unseen hands.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she pleads through a wash of tears, spit, and blood.
“No,” is all I say.
Ty screams again and thrashes against invisible bonds. Bruises blossom across her skin, growing before my eyes. Her skin splits into terrible gashes and she won’t stop bleeding. She wrenches her head around. Eyes fixed on me, she speaks, but all that comes forth is the wet smacking of her lips as they fight to form words past the violence.
I can’t look away. I reach for the center console, fumbling to pull out the plastic pill bottle. It rattles in my hand, shaking pills in all directions. I slam the bottle into my mouth just like I’d forced the vodka bottle into Ty’s. I can’t tell how many pills make it into my mouth, but I hope it’s enough. Through bitter tears, I chew them as I watch Ty slowly die in front of me.
I don’t know how long it’s been, but Ty fades away just as my general perception of the world does. I still can’t stop staring at the empty passenger’s seat of my car. I can’t stop hearing the anguished screams of the woman I butchered.
Luckily, the pills turn everything down, covering my eyes with a hazy veil. It’s easier to ignore the truth when you can’t see it. It’s even easier when you’re unconscious. Fuck. Maybe I took too many pills.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
To be perfectly frank, I’m disappointed to wake up. I’m still dressed in a ruined suit, covered in filth, sitting in my car in the middle of nowhere. Death has to be better than this.
The clock radio insists that it’s just past noon, but I can’t see the sun, so I’m skeptical. The passenger’s seat is empty and I can’t hear anything but the steady hum of the car’s engine.
I roll down the windows to let in some fresh air and turn the car off. I take a deep breath, trying to savor the pure scent of an untouched forest, but everything hurts. I didn’t notice it at first because I didn’t expect it. I took enough pills to bring me just short of death’s door, yet everything still hurts. Just lifting a hand to scratch at my nose sends fire down my spine.
I drop my hand, fumble for the seat lever, and recline. Better not to move. Maybe I’ll just lay here and wait to die. If I’m still, the pain is tolerable, and the sounds of the forest are almost soothing. As soon as I conjure the thought, I dismiss it. Waiting to die in relative comfort is more than I deserve. And it’s unfair to Joy and Aza. Aza especially. I know she went to the park this morning. I know she waited, likely for hours, for me to show. There’s nothing I can ever say or do to explain things to her. Hell, I don’t understand it myself, but I can’t just leave her.
With renewed focus, I bring the seat upright. I curse at the pain, but keep my nerve. I find my phone on the floor of the passenger’s side. I dig out the car charger for it next and plug it in. I keep the phone off while it charges—no need to let any nosy detectives trace it, assuming they haven’t already.
Settled, I look in the rearview mirror to assess the chances of getting out the way I came in. There’s a slight slope leading from my position up to the road, but it looks traversable. I don’t have room to turn around or take any other direction, so it’s my only option. Ty was right about one thing—I’m one lucky son of a bitch to have kept my car in one piece and in a position I can get out of.
If I’m going to try and make amends—as much as that’s even possible—then there’s no time to waste. I find the orange pill bottle wedged in my seat, but it’s empty. I spot a few loose pills on the floor and scoop them up. Just four remain. Not enough to get me through a long journey, so I better hurry.
I carefully place my remaining pills in my pants pocket and grab for the keys. The ignition lock is empty. I pat it, expecting the keys to reappear, and when they don’t, I look around my feet. I’ve already scoured the floor for pills, but I do so again, this time for keys.
“What the hell?” I ask myself, leaning over to search both the center console and passenger’s side floor.
Something metallic jingles from outside my window. I freeze in place, head tucked down to look under the passenger’s seat. The sound rings out again. It sounds like someone shaking keys because, of course, someone is shaking my fucking keys.
“Maybe you can help me out,” a familiar voice says through the open window. “I really want to say something menacing, but can’t come up with anything that doesn’t scream overdone and cheesy. Obviously, looking for these? just won’t do.”
Still bent across the car, I twist to look back at the open window. Ty, in all his male glory, leans in, keys in hand, smile slapped across his flawless face.
“Ah, screw it,” Ty says. “The moment has passed. You get the point anyway, right? You’re fucked.”
Ty lunges through the open window and grabs me by the neck. I’m halfway out the window before I even think to fight. I grab at his hands and claw at his arms, but he rips me from my car and slams me into the ground, face first.
I taste dirt and blood. It’s in my nose, my mouth, my eyes. Ty presses against the back of my head, grinding my face into the soft earth. Suffocating me.
His hands shift to my wrists and he begins dragging me. His strength is godlike. I squirm and shake. I try to twist around and get my feet beneath me in the hope of gaining some leverage, but he’s moving too quickly.
Abruptly, he releases me. I gasp and immediately flip over to my front and prepare to run. There’s still dirt in my eyes, making it hard to see, but I don’t have time to worry about it. I get one foot under me when Ty shoves me back down.
“Don’t even try it,” he says.
He grabs my wrists again and yanks me sharply toward the closest tree. He kneels on my back, firmly pinning me in place, and slaps a handcuff around one of my wrists. With speed no mortal man should possess, he spins off me, snares my free wrist, and handcuffs it as well. He releases me with a laugh.
Sputtering, I try to turn and sit up, but Ty has somehow managed to handcuff my wrists around the base of a tree. The most I can do is rotate onto my side, and it’s awkward at best.
Ty crouches in front of me and cocks his head to the side. I’ve never seen the bastard smile so much. And for Ty, this is saying a lot.
“I killed you,” I say defiantly.
“Ha!” Ty shouts. He leans in close enough I can smell raspberry vodka on his breath. “I am unending. I am forever.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head against my own extended arms. “This isn’t right. You’re not even real,” I say, finally grasping at the itch in my mind. It’s so easy to fall into old patterns and tired beliefs.
Ty sits back against a neighboring tree, spreading his legs out before him.
He’s dressed all in white: bleached jeans; pressed, white V-neck t-shirt; and brand-new white leather dress shoes.
“That’s a fucking ridiculous outfit,” I say.
Ty looks down at himself. “You dressed me, so what does that say about you?”
“So, you admit you’re just a hallucination?”
“I’ll admit anything and everything. I’m an open book. Now, what about you?”
“Go fuck yourself,” I say. “I know about you and Joy.”
Ty raises an eyebrow.
Shit. That isn’t right. Is it? No. Fuck. “Why are you doing this?” I ask.
“Now there’s an excellent question,” Ty says. He picks up a pair of sticks and hits them together.
Tap.
The sound makes me flinch. Ty’s words make me nauseous. Everything is fuzzy, soft and intangible. I can’t seem to hold on to a singular thought for more than a moment, and this fucking tapping is only going to make things worse.
“Do you mind?” I ask, nodding at him as best as I can.
Tap.
“Oh, this?” Tap. Tap. “It doesn’t bother you, does it?”
I grind my teeth. “You know it does.”
“Not a question.” Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Fuck, all right!” I scream. My temples are pulsing with fire.
“That’s not either.” Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Why did I create you?!”
Ty rests the sticks on his lap and my vision slowly refocuses. “Interesting. Go on.”
I shift against the handcuffs and try to find a position that doesn’t make me want to die. “We both know you’re not real. At all. And never were.” God, it’s hard to breathe. It feels like my lungs are full of dirt. Ty gestures with a stick to continue. “At least with Ty—you know, the female version—she was real at some point. But she’s dead now. But even before that, what the fuck are you?”
“I’m Ty.”
“No, you’re not. Tyler Mae Bridges is a woman.”
“And?”
“And…” My mouth has dried up. “And my mistress?” I’ve always hated the word mistress. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
“While I appreciate you playing by the rules, is that truly a question?”
I shake my head.
“You still haven’t answered your own question.” Ty lifts both sticks, poised to strike.
“I don’t fucking know,” I shout.
TAP.
It feels like he’s kicked me in the head. All I see is colors that won’t stop shifting.
“Guilt,” I say, though I can’t be certain it’s aloud. But what does it matter? I’m talking to myself on some level, anyway. It was an answer I had immediately after realizing the lie at Ty’s house, but somewhere between there and here, I lost it again. It only scratches the surface. Ty wants more.
The pain and colors recede like the tide, gone in an instant, taking part of me with it.
“You were a mistake,” I say. Ty raises his sticks. “Wait. The female version, I mean. The affair. It was wrong. Fuck, it was wrong. That’s why you exist. Because I knew it was wrong.”
“And?” TAP. TAP.
Either one of the sticks broke or some bone in my body did. The pain is everywhere. I’m gasping, but getting no air.
“And… And…”
TAP. TAP. TAP.
“And I didn’t want to stop!”
The sticks fall silent. I can’t open my eyes. I can’t feel my arms, but the rest of my body is racked with pain.
“I knew it was wrong,” I blubber into the dirt. “But I didn’t want to stop. So I lied to myself. That’s what you are. Why you are. To make me feel better about fucking Ty every chance I got.”
A hand grabs me by the throat and twists my body as far around as my manacled wrists will allow. Even so, my shoulder joints are about to give.
“Very fucking impressive,” Ty says. He’s nose to nose with me, blindingly white.
“So…what?” I ask. “I admit it. What now?”
I know I should have control over the situation. I should be able to just think Ty away, but I can’t. The understanding of what Ty is does nothing for me. Nothing is solved.
“Aww,” he says. “Are you trying to wish me away?”
It catches me off guard that he knows what I’m thinking.
“Just let me go,” I say. “I know what I’ve done. I get it. This is punishment for what I did.”
“Yes, it is,” Ty says. “And it’s only just begun. But I’m not a monster. I brought your favorite. Really, it was the least I could do.”
With that, Ty produces a small key and forces it into my mouth. The metallic taste makes me gag, but before I can spit it out, Ty jams a liquor bottle in after it. I have no choice but to swallow the key along with half a bottle of whiskey.
When I’ve finished, Ty wrenches the bottle out, spins it in his hand, and smashes it over my head.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It’s pitch-black when I wake up.
The air is sweet and cool, but it’s swallowed by the agony of everything else that surrounds me. I remember at once what happened and where I am, which doesn’t normally even happen on a good day. Damn if I don’t live in a perpetual state of irony.
But the unusual clearness only serves to magnify the severity of my position. It only intensifies the pain and deepens the despair. And I know full well who to blame.
“You sick little fuck,” I say, spitting out a piece of broken tooth. I wonder how many I swallowed.
“I hope that’s not directed at me,” Ty’s feminine voice says from right next to me.
I look for Ty’s sweet face in the gloom. Imagined or not, I need to see it.
“Hold on, baby,” she says softly.
I feel her hands on my face. Her fingers trace along my nose and dig the dirt away from my eyes. She laughs.
“There’s nothing funny about any of this,” I say.
“I know, but you used to give me such a hard time when I’d put on a mud mask before bed. Don’t you remember?”
I see the outline of Ty, sitting next to me. It’s still dark as sin in whatever forested area I’m imprisoned in, but I can see enough of her to not feel so alone.
“Yeah, I remember,” I say, because as she speaks the words, I remember it as if I always had.
Ty rests her hand on my arm. I’m still cuffed to the tree, splayed out like a living offering to whatever forest demon keeps these parts.
“That other Ty really is a bastard, isn’t he?” she asks.
I twist so that I can see her profile against the rustling foliage. Her nose is so small. I remember teasing her about that, too. Not that I had a problem with it. Or her mud masks. I wish I could find something to hate about her. Knowing I destroyed something so beautiful haunts me even more. I wish I could have one more moment with the real Ty.
“Don’t worry, I got rid of him. I think. Actually, I’m surprised you’re still around,” I say.
“I mean, he fucks your wife against the wall of a sleazy motel room and then has the nerve to hunt you down and cuff you to a tree? You should have killed him, not me.”
“I did. I mean, what? No. None of that really happened. I did it. I fucked you against that motel room wall. Lucky room thirteen. The only room you’d stay in.”
I gasp at the sudden realization and inhale a mouthful of dirt, blood, and broken teeth. It sets me coughing. When I regain my composure, and look back up at Ty, she’s still staring off into the night, a slight smile curving her lips.
“Yeah, maybe that room wasn’t so lucky after all,” Ty says dreamily. “But, man, did we have some fun there. Those cuffs got plenty of use, too, as I recall.”
What she’s saying is true, but to believe it sickens me.
“But Joy…” I say, trying desperately to hold on to the lie that is quickly fading in and out. Here one moment and gone the next. Is there any separation between truth and lies? Or is that the biggest lie of all?
; “I still don’t know why you told her about us,” Ty says, her smiling evaporating. “I’m telling you, that’s where all this shit started. Well, most of it. I guess you were always a powder keg waiting for a spark.”
“I what?” There’s no point in resisting any longer, but I can’t make sense of what Ty’s saying.
“You said it wasn’t right. What we were doing. What we’d done since…”
“My wedding,” I say as another lie falls away.
“Oh, right,” Ty says as if she’s the one that has forgotten.
“I never told Joy that part, I don’t think. How it started.”
“I would hope not. To think, you were with me in the back bathroom during the reception, while everyone else celebrated your marriage to someone you weren’t fucking against a graffiti-covered stall divider. Shit, now I even feel bad for her.”
“It was more than that, wasn’t it?” I ask.
Ty looks down at me. “Still trying to excuse your behavior? A little late for that, isn’t it?”
I nod, like a scolded schoolboy, and drop my gaze.
Ty pats my arm. “Anyway, you thought Joy deserved the truth. So you told her. Plain and simple, I guess. How’d that go, anyway? Hey, Joy, so there’s this other girl… Serious? Nah, we’ve just been seeing each other about as long as you and I have been married.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I say.
“No shit.”
“I told her who you were. I… I promised to stop.”
“You told that bitch that you and I were done! That you ended it,” Ty screams, punctuating the outburst with a cuff to my ear.
Her voice echoes as she spins down to her stomach and pulls herself close to me. “But we didn’t stop, did we?”
I can’t move. She’s holding my head too tightly. Her teeth are bared like a cornered wolf’s. I try to shake my head.
“You tried to cut me off for a while, the little shit that you are. Do you have any idea what that was like for me? I knew you were married and someday that might present itself as an issue, but we’d been together nearly a decade! We had as much right to be together as you and her.”
House of Sand: A Dark Psychological Thriller Page 17