“Would you two stop?” Tyler scoffed. “A twenty-three is acceptable at most major universities. Precisely why you need to apply.”
Katherine leaned forward. “You know? He’s never brought a girl home before—”
“Mom, enough.”
“Okay.” She held up her hands. “It’s nice to talk with you, Elsie. As usual, Tyler has impeccable taste. He has an eye for beauty, and not just on the surface.”
“Thank you, Katherine, and thanks for breakfast, too.”
“My pleasure,” she said.
Tyler pushed back his chair, grabbed our plates, and followed her to the sink. After he set down the dishes, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. She smiled and patted his face.
He walked across the room, reaching out to take my hand, and then he led me upstairs.
“We have to go,” I said. “It’s after seven.”
“I know. Let me show you something first.”
I followed him to a closed door in the hallway. He pushed it open and stepped inside. I stopped. The space was done in French-country decor, all of the furniture whitewashed, a blue-and-yellow quilt covering a king-sized bed that stretched the center of the wall. Sheer blue curtains over the floor-length windows blew in the breeze. He headed toward the right side of the room. No way. I didn’t even go inside my own mom and dad’s room unless I had permission. He turned around and waved.
“It’s okay. Dad left for work at six. Mom won’t care.”
I reluctantly stepped inside and made my way to a dressing area that separated the bedroom and master bath. He stood in front of a knotty pine door.
“You asked how I know so much about shoes.” He pulled the door open. “This is why.”
I gasped. Katherine’s walk-in closet was shelved with rows and rows of red-bottomed shoes, Prada, Jimmy Choo... I bounced up and down, pretending to clap my hands.
“Beautiful! Oh, she wears my size, too.”
Hundreds of styles, colors, and designs, all in one closet. I picked up a four-inch, glossy black, open-toe pump with a scarlet bottom. Pure art. Giggling, I put it back.
“I told you, her shopping sprees taught me a lot.”
“You’ve had a unique education.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it.”
A few minutes later, I grabbed my bag and said goodbye to Katherine on our way out.
“I don’t want to leave,” I said after we settled in the car. “Can’t we stay here?”
“Elsie, I’ve got all the time in the world. Are you willing to blow off your day?”
“I can’t.” I flopped back in the seat. “I had a great time, though. Thanks.”
He smiled and took my hand. “The pleasure’s been all mine.”
We pulled in my driveway a little before nine. I only had five minutes to get to Savannah. Hopefully, Mr. Smith would still be at breakfast. Tyler gave me a kiss goodbye, then I hurried toward the house to get the keys. I stepped inside and promptly stopped. What the hell?
The aftermath of a party was spread throughout the house. Mark lay sprawled out on the couch, snoring. Bobby was lying on the recliner, snoring. Some random guy in a leather jacket was passed out face down on the floor, snoring. I walked by Mark’s room and glanced inside. A naked couple was sleeping in his bed. The guy was on his belly, and the girl on her back, with sheets laced around their exposed skin. Yuck. I hurried to the kitchen. Empty beer cans cluttered the table, several of them overflowing with cigarette butts. The place smelled of stale smoke and musty bodies.
I stepped over a pile of pizza boxes, looking for the keys in between liquor bottles and half-empty plastic cups. Nothing. Maybe Mark left them on the coffee table. Scanning the room, I didn’t see them anywhere. I looked him over. His right pocket bulged. I wasn’t about to stick my hand in my brother’s jeans. I pushed on his shoulder.
“Mark. Wake up. I need the keys.” He moaned and rolled over. I shook him again. “Mark, come on, man.” I smacked the back of his head. “I need to go to work.”
“Don’t,” he snapped, swatting his hand at me.
“Get. Up. I need the keys to the truck.”
“So? Get ’em yourself.”
“They’re in your pocket, dumbass.”
He dug in his jeans and slammed his fist on the coffee table. Coins bounced, rolling across the wood, and then he rolled over again. I snagged the keys and walked out.
Chapter 21
I slipped in the back door at Smith’s ten minutes after nine, and thankfully, he wasn’t in the kitchen. I darted to the cabinet under the sink and filled my arms with cleaning supplies.
Footsteps. I froze in my tracks.
“It’s me, Mr. Smith,” I squeaked.
He didn’t answer. I clutched the plastic bottles in my arms and stepped around the corner. He stood in the hallway, swaying back and forth. Seriously, another drunk?
He pointed his crooked finger, wiggling his whole body. “Y’all’s late.”
He staggered forward, and a chill ran up my spine.
“I’m sorry, sir. It’s only a few minutes.”
I held my breath. My skin tingled, signaling danger. I needed to run.
As he moved closer, I stepped backward.
“You’s gonna give me a smooch for it.” He squished his lips together.
He couldn’t be serious.
“No, I’m not!”
He let out a terrifying cackle that made the hairs on my neck stand on end. I started backing up until my legs hit a pile of newspapers, stopping my progress. I was cornered.
“Mr. Smith, please... I just want to clean the bathroom.”
“You’s a cute Yankee.” He stepped closer, breath like gasoline. “Come on over here.”
Arching back, I faked to the right. He lunged to grab me. I darted to the left. He stumbled over the pile of newspapers, catching himself with the wall. I tossed the bottles on the floor and started to run toward the kitchen. But the collar of my shirt wrenched around my neck as he yanked me backward. I spun around and the fabric twisted tighter. Eyes full of rage, he snarled in my face. I swung my fist, but I only skimmed his cheek. I jabbed his Adam’s apple instead.
“You ‘lil bitch!” he coughed out.
Gasping for air, I grabbed at my neck. He swung his arm high in the air.
“No!” I cried.
Smack! The back of his hand smashed against my cheek.
Pain reverberated through my head and down my spine as the lights in the room faded.
This can’t be happening... Oh, God, please help me!
Within seconds, he tossed me toward the kitchen like a ragdoll. Breathless, I tried to stop the momentum so I didn’t hit the wall. Crack! My head whacked the edge of the doorframe. I collapsed to the floor. My head throbbed as the room spun.
Taking only a second to recoup, I knew I had to keep moving. Run, Elsie, you gotta run!
The old man was still coughing, and then I heard him moving toward me. Watery eyes clouding my vision, I managed to shuffle across the linoleum, and run out the screen door. I jumped past the steps, landing on my hands and knees, blades of grass brushing my cheek. Immediately, I pushed up and sprinted toward the truck. Scurrying inside, I slammed the keys in the ignition, and backed out of the driveway as fast as I could.
I grabbed for my phone. It wasn’t in my pocket. Frantic, I patted my legs on both sides.
Nothing. Tears poured down my face. “No,” I cried out. “I need my phone!”
My cheek was on fire. My heartbeat thumping around my eye. I rubbed the right side of my head, and winced. Already, a hard lump had grown under my hair.
I didn’t know what to do. Call Mom. No, I didn’t have my phone. Mark had a party strung all over the house, and I couldn’t just knock on Tyler’s door. I pulled over on the side of the street and threw the truck in park.
Why? Why would he attack me like that?
The horrifying ordeal flashed through my mind – his breath, his sweaty hands touching me, the snarl on his face
. Shivering, I looked in the mirror again. My eye had already turned a deep blue and was starting to swell shut.
“No, no, no, no,” I said, touching my skin like I could make it stop.
My stomach rolled over. At the same time, my jaw tingled as bile erupted in my throat. I opened the door and vomited on the pavement. Slumping back in the seat, I put the truck in drive and slowly headed toward Main Street. I had to find Tyler. I needed him. I needed his help.
Driving down Riverside Road, I scanned the yard for any signs of Mrs. Vaughn. The only person I saw was the gardener in the side yard, trimming the bushes. Continuing several hundred yards, I pulled over and hopped out.
“Hello,” I said, way too cheerful for someone with a half swollen face.
“Hola,” he nodded, and then he furrowed his brow, looking me over.
“Mrs. Vaughn... Is she home?”
“Señora Vaughn, si,” he said.
“Uh, Señora, casa?” I raised my eyebrows, instantly flinching from the pain.
“Si, si,” he nodded, and then he shook his head. “No, Señora.”
“She’s not here.” I shook my head no.
“No, casa,” he squinted his eyes. “¿Te duele?”
I shrugged. “I don’t understand.”
“Hurt,” he said, pointing to his cheek. “You, hurt.”
I nodded. “Is Tyler here?”
His face lit up. “Si, Señor Tyler!” He pointed toward the road. “Si, él corre.”
I shook my head. What did that mean?
He smiled. “Run, run.”
Tyler must’ve gone for a jog.
“Oh, okay,” I said. “Thank you.”
I drove around, searching the streets. After fifteen minutes, I pulled over and threw up again. After that, I couldn’t take it anymore, and I headed home. As I drove down the curvy roads, all I wanted to do was close my eyes. I pushed through the waves of dizziness. The old man was a monster. Tears stung my pulsating eye. On top of everything else, that man had bash my face.
I pushed the front door open, staggering inside the house. Bobby was still asleep in the chair. Everyone else was gone. The smell of stale smoke made my stomach churn.
Bam, bam, bam! I pounded on Mark’s door, then shoved it open. His face was pressed against the sheets where the naked people had been.
“Mark,” I shouted. “Get up!”
“Not so loud,” he mumbled.
“Screw you!” I slammed the door.
Bobby rustled in the chair.
I took two steps toward him, towering over the recliner, and screamed, “Get the hell out!”
His hands shot in the air. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”
“There’s the door.”
I stood my ground, watching him scurry outside. I slammed the door to seal my point, and spun around way too fast. My stomach lurched, dizziness swirled through my head. Dashing toward the bathroom, I fell to my knees in front of the toilet. White light flashed in my eyes and sharp stabs racked my head as I emptied the rest of my stomach. My skin felt like it would burst from the pressure of each heave.
After an excruciating few minutes, I fell back on the cold floor and started gasping for breath.
The room spun. I closed eyes.
~ * ~
Someone was pushing on my shoulder. I opened my eyes, pain instantly pierced my head.
“Elsie! Wake up,” Mark said, panicked.
“Ah,” I moaned, trying to sit up.
“What happened to you?” he asked. “Did Tyler do this?”
“No. It wasn’t Tyler.” The awful morning flooded my mind. I whimpered. “Mr. Smith.”
“Who? The guy you clean for?”
“He was drunk and cornered me. Then he smacked me.”
“Did you call Mom?”
I sniffled. “No. I dropped my phone while I was trying to get away.”
“I’m gonna kick the guy’s ass.”
“No.” I grabbed Mark’s arm. “Don’t go over there, please. She’ll get fired.”
“Who gives a fuck?” he snapped. “She’d better not go back after this.”
I buried my face in my hands.
“What about the crops?” I bawled. “I’d planned on working in the field today.”
“Aw... Elsie. Don’t worry about that. You need to lie down.”
For the first time in years, my big brother hugged me and said nothing else. I didn’t ask what time it was when he carried me to my room, but the house sat in the dark. Mark laid me in bed. I rolled on my side, then he covered me with a blanket and left me alone.
The next morning, I woke up, confused. The clock read eight-fifteen. I hurried out of bed, but the room spun around me. I steadied myself and touched the lump under my hair. Wincing with a hiss, I stepped in front of the mirror.
“No... ” I breathed out.
A deep purple, swollen, shut eye reflected back. I touched the puffy skin. Then, I saw a thick, red line on my throat where Mr. Smith had strangled me with my shirt. I couldn’t let Tyler see me like this.
I gasped. Tyler. I missed our run. Oh no! He might think I stood him up!
I felt for my phone but I couldn’t find it... Probably dropped it at Mr. Smith’s! I stood there trying to think, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember Tyler’s number. Pushing back the urge to cry, I started to get ready for work.
By eight forty-five, I drove toward Savannah. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I looked like I’d fought Rocky Balboa and lost. Mrs. Vaughn would eat me alive if she saw me. Nothing could hide a purple eye.
I walked through the garage, heart pounding. Tyler’s car was sitting in the first bay. He usually ran until after ten. I quietly opened the door to the kitchen, and was glad I didn’t hear anyone. I slipped around the corner with my head bent, hurrying toward the foyer. Darting toward the utility room, I gathered supplies and tiptoed upstairs. A door clicked. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Tyler stepping out of his room. I hurried inside the bathroom and closed the door.
The bathroom was a safe place, right? Not only at my house. It should be a universal rule. I walked to the sink and set down the supplies.
Within seconds, Tyler stepped inside and closed the door.
“What are you doing?” I snapped, turning my back on him.
“What’s wrong?” He walked across the room. I stayed hidden behind my hair. “Where were you this morning? I called you a hundred times. Elsie, look at me. Please.”
I slowly turned around and lifted my face.
“What the fuck?” He stepped back. “Who did that to you?”
I flinched. He grabbed my shoulders.
“Elsie, what happened? Talk to me.”
I jerked away. “Don’t!”
He quickly stepped back, raising his hands in the air. “Please... let me help you.”
I pressed my face in my palms and cried. I felt Tyler’s gentle touch slide over my back, as he pulled me toward him. I hid my face in his embrace.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to our run this morning,” I said against his chest.
“It’s okay. I’ve been worried about you. Did Mark do this?”
At any other time, both men accusing the other would’ve been funny.
“No. Mr. Smith. He was drunk and thought I was late.”
“He hit you because you were late? You weren’t late.”
He started to step back. I wrapped my arms around him so he wouldn’t. Taking my signal, he tightened his embrace.
“It was only a little after nine,” I said. “He yelled at me, and then he said he wanted a kiss to make up for it. He... he backhanded me when I tried to get away.”
Tyler’s whole body tensed as I told him the story.
“Then he slammed me against the doorway, and I hit my head. I finally got away. I totally lost Mom’s job.”
Tyler leaned back to look into my eyes, pain written all over his face.
“I’m sorry, but your mother getting fired is the last thing yo
u need to worry about. Damn it. Why didn’t you call me?”
“I dropped my phone at his house.” I pressed my forehead to his chest. “When I got home, I threw up and slept all night.”
“You have a concussion.” He kissed the top of my head. “Thank God you woke up.”
He touched my chin. I looked up. His eyes narrowed as he inspected my wounds.
“I tried to find you,” I said. “The gardener told me you were out running.”
“What time were you here?”
“Around ten-thirty.”
“Really?” He sighed. “I was here. He didn’t know.”
Tyler gently kissed my forehead, then he took my hand and led me out of the bathroom.
I shuffled my feet to keep up. “Where are we going?”
“To get your phone.”
“Tyler, I have to clean. I’ll get—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, hurrying down the stairs.
We walked through the house and into the garage. Tyler headed straight to his car. I stopped in front of Mrs. Vaughn’s Jaguar. He opened his car door and turned to me.
“What is it?” he asked.
“We can’t go there.”
“Elsie, listen to me. I won’t stand for some guy hitting you.”
“You’re angry.”
“Yes, I am,” he said, calmly. “But I promise I won’t hurt him. I just want to get your phone. Will you get in, please?”
I watched him. He matched my stare, standing his ground. Giving in, I walked to the passenger’s side and climbed in.
I gave him directions to Mr. Smith’s as he backed out of the driveway, then told him the story in detail. Tyler chewed on his lip, focusing on the road. I’d seen him agitated, but not pissed off. The intensity in his eyes, his tight jaw, his cold demeanor. Shit. He did have a temper.
Five minutes later, he parked in front of the old man’s house.
“Stay here,” Tyler said. “The windows are limousine black. He can’t see you.”
Tyler climbed out, taking long strides toward the house. Within seconds, he stood tall, pounding his fist on the front door. Mr. Smith answered with a smile and offered out his hand. Tyler didn’t accept. Smith’s expression went blank, and then he disappeared inside. Tyler stepped through the door, closing it behind him.
Life Happens on the Stairs Page 17