Blackbird

by D T Dyllin

  Blackbird singing in the dead of night

  Take these broken wings and learn to fly

  All your life

  You were only waiting for this moment to arise

  The words felt good to say for some reason, and soon I was saying them over and over again as I placed the dead birds into the small shipping box. I sealed it up and scribbled Kylie’s name across the top. I snapped off the pair of latex gloves I had on, disposed of them and placed a fresh set on before handling the box again. Special delivery for Kylie James. I laughed but it came out sounding more like a cackle.

  My eyes flew open, my surroundings unfamiliar for a moment. Warm arms were wrapped around my middle. I inhaled a shaky breath and brought Noah’s scent into me. As always, knowing he was close eased my nerves. I’d had a nightmare about the dead blackbirds again. I didn’t want to think about it. I was still so tired. I stared at the brightly patterned curtains that were blocking out the sunlight. Soon my eyes drifted shut again.

  41

  ~Noah

  I was letting Kyle down. I didn’t know how to keep her safe. I didn’t know how to help her. All I knew how to do was to simply be there for her, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

  I slid from bed for the second time that day, or was it the third? Hell, I didn’t even know what day it was anymore. Ever since I’d received the call from Marie that Kyle needed help, everything had been one big blur, the past and present merging together into one big cluster fuck. The way I saw it though—Kyle and I couldn’t truly move on with our lives until whoever had been harassing her was caught. I wouldn’t let her live life while looking over her shoulder. It didn’t matter that I’d always have her back.

  Billy was still in the suite’s living room, his large body stretched out across the couch, the TV on low. He was a light sleeper, especially when he was on a job of any kind and even if he seemed unaware, the slightest weird noise would have him at full attention. He sat up straight, his eyes fully alert as soon as I pulled the bedroom door softly closed behind me.

  “Hey,” I mumbled, scratching at the scruff on my face. “I think we should move hotels again. I want to get a better setup, this was just temporary. Instead of just cameras on possible entry points like at the house we’ll put cameras everywhere.”

  Billy raised his eyebrows. “Even in the bedroom? Because if anyone ever got a hold of those…” His voice trailed off the rest unnecessary to say.

  “No one else will get a hold of them. We’ll run a closed circuit, and I’ll personally delete the footage every day when nothing happens. But if it does, then we got him. We need to catch this S.O.B. and it’s gone on long enough. Kyle has shows, a life, we can’t keep her tucked away from the public for much longer. I have at least half a dozen missed calls with accompanying angry messages from Marie demanding to know where the hell we all are.”

  “What did you tell her? If anything.”

  “I texted her that she couldn’t know right now because we didn’t know where the information leak was comin’ from. She didn’t take too kindly to that, let me tell you.”

  Billy snorted. “I bet.”

  “So as I was sayin’, we’re gonna pull up our stakes here and find another place to set up camp.”

  “Where were you thinking?”

  “I don’t wanna leave town because that’s what would be expected. That’s why we decided to stay in Nashville to begin with, let’s keep it simple—we’re just gonna move hotels. I’ll ask Kyle if she has a prefer—screw it—we’re goin’ to The Marriot. Book the rooms, I’m gonna wake up Kyle and get her goin’.”

  “She over being mad?”

  I shrugged. “She’s under a lot of stress. She’s gonna be out of sorts for a while. Mood swings are normal.”

  “Withdrawal?” Billy shifted, his demeanor pensive and not intrusive. “I know they flushed the drugs out of her system but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t grown dependent on them for coping. Lots of celebrities have similar issues.”

  “Yeah, the thought’s occurred to me. And as soon as we catch her stalker then I’m gonna make sure all her issues are properly dealt with. It’s just another reason to force the hand of this blackbird fuck.”

  “A shame Conner Vreck didn’t have any information.”

  I ran my hands through my hair and started pacing. “As crazy as that fuck is, I got a sense that he was genuinely pissed that someone else was using his thing with Kyle for their own. He was just another dead end.”

  Feint strumming could be heard coming from the bedroom. Kyle was obviously awake. Maybe it would do her some good to get lost in her music for a bit. “On second thought, the new hotel can wait a few hours. I’m gonna head out with Mikey to get the equipment we need. I’ll head over to his room and wake him up. He’s had a few hours of sleep so he should be good.”

  “He wasn’t alone,” Billy said, his face contorting with disproval. “He met some chick downstairs in the lobby, if you catch my drift.”

  I rolled my eyes. Mikey was the youngest of our crew. Young, good-looking, if the way women responded to him was any indication, and a complete man-whore, as Kyle would say. His military service had been cut short when he’d picked up some shrapnel in his gut. He was all healed up now, just a few scars to show for his troubles but he was happier working for me than Uncle Sam. Plus he got more perks working security. “I’ll give him some more time then. I’ll head out on my own. I shouldn’t be too long.” I snapped up the keys for the sedan that were on the table and headed out.

  I was determined that the whole thing with the blackbird stalker was going to end soon. Nothing was going to stand in my way. I mulled over what I’d said to Billy. I hadn’t been sleeping enough, wasn’t thinking clearly. If we wanted to catch the fuck then we needed him to come to us. We’d get him on video. A change in location was still an optimum move but instead of being covert, we were going to roll out the red carpet.

  I pulled out my phone and called Billy even though I was only halfway down the hallway. “Change of plans, we’re gonna stay at The Union Station Hotel after all.”

  “You want to lay a trap, get him on video,” Billy stated, his mind quickly picking up what I was laying down.

  “Exactly.”

  42

  ~Kylie

  I strummed my guitar slowly, not really playing anything in particular. My mind wandered, the feel of warm metal strings sliding against my fingers soothing. My brain was fuzzy. Yesterday’s events seemed far away, distorted, or like I was remembering part of a TV show or movie. I was strangely detached. My thoughts, as they always seemed to do lately, centered around Noah. He was my obsession. Since I was ten years old, always had and always would be until the day I died. I kept thinking of times when we were kids, times when things had been simpler and I’d been so sure about my life—our life together. I wished I could go back—back to when I knew I could trust Noah, and I’d still had a mother and a brother…a family. Now Noah was my only family. He was my everything. If I lost him again I’d be back to where I was a few short weeks ago…back to nothing.

  When had I lost my sense of direction—my sense of self? I wasn’t even sure I knew who I was anymore. Maybe I’d let myself get taken over by my neuroses. Maybe they were owning me instead of me owning them. Some people just aren’t capable of handling the spotlight. Maybe I was one of them. I’d had a good run and I’d age out soon anyways. Maybe it was time to be done. A part of me just wanted to give up, but not just on my career, on everything. You can’t give up now, not when you finally have Noah again. But did I really have him?

  Strife and confusion ‘round me abound

  Bleeding my soul and wearing me down

  So I seek shelter darkness of night

  Where I’m enshrouded safe from my plight

  I don’t care to live anymore

  But I really don’t want to die

  I’ve no hope that I’ll again smile

 
I’m so overwhelmed I can cry no more

  Time passes slowly evening ‘til dawn

  I’m left to wonder how to go on

  Can I continue day after day?

  Caught in the light of death’s dusty way

  I don’t care to live anymore

  But I really don’t want to die

  I’ve no hope that I’ll again smile

  I’m so overwhelmed I can cry no more

  There’s no one for me I’m all alone

  No place to go to no place like home

  Only too late do I realize

  Love that I’ve lost was my greatest prize

  I don’t care to live anymore

  But I really don’t want to die

  I’ve no hope that I’ll again smile

  I’m so overwhelmed I can cry no more

  Wow. Is that how I really felt? It sounded as if I’d already given up on having Noah. Country music is about honesty, and truth. It always does its best to be honest with itself, even when the writer is trying not to be. The truth of my lyrics seemed to have circumvented the lies I’d been telling myself.

  I slammed my guitar down on the bed, not caring if I broke it. I needed to get my head on straight again. I needed to focus. Everything shouldn’t be all about Noah. What about my career? Didn’t that even matter to me anymore? I gritted my teeth and yanked on my hair. I was too filled with anxiety, doubt, and confusion. I didn’t know which way was up anymore. I needed pills. Just a few. If I could get something to clear the fuzz out of my brain, so I could think clearly, then I could figure things out. I just wanted to think clearly. I didn’t have a problem. Sure I’d gotten a little out of control before, but I would be more careful this time. I’d learned my lesson.

  I picked up my cell phone and scrolled through my contacts for my doctor’s number. He could call in another prescription—Dammit! I forgot I have a new phone and my doctor’s number isn’t in it. I started pacing. Okay, calm down. Calm down. Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll just take a shower. That’ll help. A nice relaxing shower.

  I shuffled into the bathroom, stripping as I went. My attention was caught by my reflection in the full-length mirror. I couldn’t look away. Of course Noah wants to fuck younger women. Look at me. I pinched, twisted, turned, and scrutinized. I’m a complete mess. My body is falling apart. I’m ugly. I’m so fucking ugly.

  I watched my mouth form words—a piece of a song by The Goo Goo Dolls I’d heard years ago. It’d stuck with me the way anything attached to music has a tendency to. It meant something in that moment. I heard Noah’s voice saying the words in my head, not mine.

  And scars are souvenirs you never lose

  The past is never far

  Did you lose yourself somewhere out there?

  Did you get to be a star?

  And don't it make you sad to know that life

  Is more than who we are?

  It did make me sad. Why couldn’t life just be about who we are on the inside? I balled up my fists and punched the mirror. It felt good, the sharp bite of pain. Tears sprung into my eyes, bursting moments later. I was drowning in anguish, despair filling my lungs. No one can help me. No one can fix me. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know what to think anymore or what to believe. I just kept pounding my fists against the mirror until I couldn’t anymore, but I wasn’t satisfied. I picked up a small hand mirror with an ornate heavy metal handle and smashed it against the larger mirror. Glass shattered everywhere. I dropped to my knees, shards piercing my flesh. A flash of memory shot through me.

  I crept from bed, leaving Noah passed out on his stomach. No matter how hard I tried to push the image aside, I couldn’t stop thinking about that blonde chick at the bar and how Noah had smiled so warmly at her. Why was he even with me? I wasn’t even special. The only thing I had going for me was my money.

  I found myself swaying in front of the powder room mirror, staring at my reflection.

  “I hate you,” I hissed.

  I picked up the stupid turtle statue sitting on the back of the toilet and smashed into the mirror, the glass exploding. The next thing I knew, I was breaking all the mirrors in the house. It felt so good. The window—the window was something else entirely. I didn’t know why or when I’d picked it up but I swung through it with Noah’s old baseball bat and then I’d sent the turtle sailing through the broken pane. I smiled when I did.

  “Kylie! What was that noise? Are you okay in there?” Billy called through the locked bedroom door, the handle jiggling frantically.

  “Leave me alone!” I screeched, slamming the bathroom door shut and locking that too. “Just leave me alone!”

  I stood, the pain that my body must have been feeling from all the glass imbedding in it not even registering. I stared at the shards still clinging inside the frame on the wall. My face was uneven, distorted. Somehow it felt right. Like that’s how I really looked and the other image had been a lie.

  “This is Noah’s fault. Everything is his fault. He ruined things before we even had a real chance.” Big fat tears rolled down my cheeks. “But I can’t live without him. I can’t—I can’t—I can’t do any of this anymore.”

  The fingers of my right hand curled around a large piece of glass, without thinking I slashed it against my left wrist. I stared in morbid fascination as the skin split and blood bloomed. I dropped the glass and touched the wound, not feeling a thing. Like it had a mind of its own, my right hand picked up a pair of scissors that I used to trim my side bangs. I reached up, grabbing a clump of my long blonde hair, and lopped it off. Smears of dark crimson stood out in stark contrast on the pale color. I kept cutting until I staggered, my vision going black around the edges. I glanced down to see blood dripping down my arm. It was smeared everywhere. I hadn’t hit an artery though, otherwise I’d already be dead. I gasped when I saw the red trickling over my ring. My beautiful ring. It was tainted now, just like Noah’s and my love. I slipped it off my finger and placed it there on the counter.

  “Kylie!” Billy shouted, now outside the bathroom door. “If you don’t open up right now I’ll break this door down too!”

  I turned away from the mess I’d made and stepped into the shower, turning it on. I sat down on the cool tile, bringing my knees up to my chest. The water beat down on me, mixing with my blood. I watched in idle fascination as the pinkish red color swirled down the drain. “It looks nothing like in the movies,” I muttered. I closed my eyes and leaned back.

  They say your life passes before your eyes when you’re dying. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I do know that things became crystal clear to me as the cold water pummeled my numb flesh. I could finally see through the fog that had been living in my brain, which was kind of ironic because it was a little too late to use any of the information.

  I’d been the one doing all of the things with the blackbirds. The dreams I’d had, weren’t dreams at all, but memories. There had been no girl at the hotel who’d delivered my meds. I’d gone and picked them up. I’d set up the phone. I’d left the notes. I was bat shit insane, apparently. I’d had some kind of split in my head when I became someone else. Someone else who did some fucked up shit. Good to know. Maybe me dying was better for Noah after all. I just didn’t want to do it anymore. The shows, the performances…life in the spotlight. I wanted to trade it all for a simpler life—a simpler life with Noah. I’d been trying to force myself to walk away from the spotlight and I hadn’t even known it. I’d kept it a secret from myself. Until now.

  And now…

  It’s too late. It’s all too late.

  Clarity at the end means nothing.

  42

  ~Noah

  I pulled into the parking garage of The Hilton, having only been gone for a short time. I’d forgotten the key to our office, where I had some of the equipment I wanted to pick up. I hadn’t been thinking when I grabbed the rental keys to grab my office keys as well. Maybe if Kyle was up, we could get lunch out, be seen and then she could come to t
he office with me and afterwards we’d make our move to The Union Station Hotel.

  I paused before turning off the sedan, the lyrics of the song on the radio catching my attention because they reminded me of Kyle.

  And scars are souvenirs you never lose

  The past is never far

  Did you lose yourself somewhere out there?

  Did you get to be a star?

  And don't it make you sad to know that life

  Is more than who we are?

  Unease twisted my gut. Something was wrong. I exited the car as quickly as I could, racing across the parking garage for the elevator. I punched the button, waited a few moments and headed for the stairs. It was only a few flights to the lobby where I’d catch a faster elevator up to the top floor, where the suite was. I pulled my phone out of my pocket just as I crested the first floor, calling Billy. He didn’t answer. Calm down. You’re being irrational. It’s the PTSD. Nothing is wrong. And Billy is probably in the bathroom. I called him again a few minutes later as I dashed across the lobby. Still no answer. There’s still no reason to panic. Stay Calm. You’ll be to the room in a few short minutes, then you’ll see how ridiculous you’re being.

  The concierge, recognizing me as part of Kylie’s entourage, no doubt, rushed over to me. “Is something wrong? Can I be of some service?”