by Larsen, K.
“Mags...”
“Don’t, Cane.” She holds up a hand to stop me. “You did what you promised and the last four days have been amazing. Besides a couple of bruises and whatnot, it was pretty much just how a road trip would have been before. I love you, you know? So, thank you.” Her words cut deep. So straight forward and unemotional. It kills me. I want to know how she shuts down so well, how she keeps all the feelings at bay. We exit the room and head to the front desk to check out. I can’t find the right words, so I just say nothing at all. We are walking in deafening silence towards the car when I just can’t take it anymore. I am not going to do this. I cannot do this.
I stop and pull her to me before we reach the car. “Run away with me,” I murmur, holding her to me tightly. The mood this morning has been thick and tense. We both know what’s coming.
“Cane,” she says, voice full of emotion.
“We could disappear, Magnolia,” I say seriously. She shakes her head just barely and the warmth in her face disappears. Something darker creeps over her features. Her eyes are stormy, hard and determined.
“I can’t,” she chokes out, flustered. “I’m sorry but I...I can’t, Cane.” She pushes away from me and folds into the car, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Why?!” I bark at her, confused as hell.
“Don’t,” she begs. “Leave it, Cane. You’ll never understand.”
“Explain it then. Baby, I can understand anything you tell me,” I plead.
“Not this.” She shakes her head solemnly. “This is mine. You’d never understand how it drives me. How I have to do this.” She tries to explain. How what drives her? The Mags I knew would have said yes. This new version of her frustrates me and tests my patience. I need her. Doesn’t she see that? Doesn’t she want me the way she did before? She can’t be so broken now that she wants to die. I growl at her, thoroughly fucking mad, and slam her door shut. From the corner of my eye I see her jump when it closes but I stalk around the hood of the car and get into the driver’s seat without apologizing. I crank the key in the ignition, throw it into drive and peel away from the hotel leaving a black streak of burnt rubber behind on the pavement behind.
The four-hour drive takes only three due to my driving like a maniac. Not that I’m in a rush to reach our destination but the silence in the car is maddening. I wanted to pull off the highway so many times. To shake, hell beat, sense into her. Her body language was stiff and hard the entire drive. You could almost watch her steeling herself over the course of our drive. It scares me, her determination to die. It’s as if she's been preparing for this the entire time, but why? I want to try harder to sway her, but I don’t know how. I don’t know how to reach her like this. I don’t know what’s driving her. She’s like a fortress, so well protected and guarded. One moment it feels like she’s all in. She’s mine. Then the next she’s hard and impenetrable. I can’t keep up and I have a sinking feeling that this new version of her is my fault somehow.
The car vibrates under us. She taps her foot uncontrollably on the floor with nerves. I’m not ready for this. How could I be? I need more time. Her hands are wrung tightly together in her lap.
“Ready?” I ask grimly.
“I can handle it, alright? I mean I'm here, aren't I? I'm here right now! I'm not leaving!” she snips. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel and I refuse to look at her. I watch from the corner of my eye as she runs her fingers through her hair to get it off her neck. I’m so hot suddenly as we pull into a space along the street in front of our old home. Sweat beads at the hairline on my neck. Once upon a time, it wasn’t at all weird to be in this apartment, but now it is all wrong, like being at a fair after all the rides and lights are shut down. I shut the engine off, fold out of the car and open her door as she unbuckles. This entire situation is psychotic.
“Let’s go,” I growl, yanking her by the arm. I’m not mad at her. I’m pissed beyond reason at the situation and I don’t know how to change it. She seems to have a death wish.
“Don’t touch me!” she growls back, tugging herself free. Her brow wears a faint sign of panic even though she’s trying to give off the impression that she's nothing but prepared and unaffected.
We make the trek together, up the stairs to what we used to call home. I walk a pace behind her. Her gait slows as she approaches the door. She turns to me, sadness in her eyes. “I’ll always love you, Cane.” Her words slice through me and the look she gives guts me. She’s ready. She’s accepted that this is the only outcome and she is willing to die for me. For me. I feel I’m already mourning the end of something that hasn’t come close to an end. I don’t have much time but I need to figure something out. Too much - everything - feels wrong. She said that even the most damaged heart can be mended once, and she makes me feel that, believe it.
Jimmy and Dave stand outside the door guarding it, or more accurately guarding the person inside. I don’t look either of them in the eye. I keep my focus on Magnolia. She turns to face them and I grip the back of her neck gently as they open the door and usher us in. Magnolia gasps at the sight. I hold mine in but even I didn't know what we were walking into. The living room looks just as it did the day she left. The hardwood floor still stained a deep red from my blood in the living room. Ezra is sitting on the couch, back to us, staring out the window. I haven't been here since that day either and I feel nauseous looking around. He’s kept everything just as it was.
“Tie her to the chair,” he gestures over his shoulder, not bothering to face us. I glance left and find a dining room chair. Next to it on the floor is rope. Briefly I close my eyes. Maybe when I open them everything will be different. By the time I snap my eyes open, Magnolia has seated herself. I plead with her through eye contact to put up some sort of fight, to give me a reason to act out. She does nothing though, and I silently curse her for giving up.
“Where is the pack?” Ezra demands, prowling to where she sits. I’m kneeling behind her, binding her hands to the chair at her back.
“Gone,” she whimpers, lip trembling.
“I know that’s a lie. Where. Is. The. Pack?” He backhands her, hard, sending her head lurching to the left. Blood oozes from her lip and I hide my cringe. I stand and move to the side. If he makes me watch this torture I am going to puke everywhere or do something even more stupid. Like kill him.
“I spent it all!” she says, defiantly lifting her chin. Why won't she just give it to him? He spins to me, disgust etched on his face.
“One task. Recover the backpack and take care of her. I know why you've been waiting so long. Why you haven't killed her. I think you're afraid that when it's over, your heart will still be broken. But the present is now, Cane. You need to take control. Make her a real memory, one that will never come back. Memories can be distorted. They're just an interpretation, Cane, they're not a record, and they're irrelevant if you have the facts. She killed you, or so she thought, then took my money and ran,” he growls at me. “Now take the bitch down once and for all, Cane,” Ezra snarls. I stand unmoving as he speaks. I will not be the one to lay a hand on her. My posture’s stiff, frozen, and my thoughts are drowning out his words. I need to think, fast. “I knew you couldn’t be objective. One toss of her pretty black hair and you’re a bumbling idiot. You always did think with the wrong head.” I clench my fists at his words but know better than to let my disdain show on my face. I’m still trying to figure out how the hell to get out of this situation. “Do you think you belong with her? Your legacy is with us. Family. You’re no better than I am. Do not forget that you come from a long line of scumbags. You’re just like me,” he snarls, and for a moment I’m swayed to believe him. I’ve done illegal things. Bad things. But Mags always wanted more for me. She encouraged me and believed I was worth more than that. “She was sweet,” he goes on, making my blood boil. “So innocent and into you. I always did want what I couldn’t have. You were so taken with her, I just had to find out what all the commotion was about,”
he sneers. I don’t know what he’s talking about but my rage is growing with every word that comes out of his mouth.
“Do you have a point, Ezra?” I grind out.
“She didn’t tell you, did she?” he asks, apparently genuinely surprised. His eyes shoot to Mags and he arches an eyebrow at her. She immediately looks away and pales. The dried blood in the corner of her mouth makes me wince and my stomach roll. What am I missing?
“Tell me what, Mags?” I say, turning fully to her.
“Tell him, Cypress!” Ezra laughs. Tears start streaming down her face but she doesn’t speak. She looks like she might be sick and won't look me in the eye.
“WHAT THE FUCK!” I roar in frustration. “Ezra, what the hell aren’t you telling me?”
“I took a taste of your lady, Cane. Don’t worry, your sweet little girl didn’t go along willingly, always so loyal to you, but I got to see what all the hype was about.” He watches me carefully. I’m shocked to the core. Numb. Furious. Hurt. Broken. His mouth keeps moving but I barely hear anything he’s saying. Things snap into place. Motives, the changes in her, the lifeless empty eyes. I feel like I might break under the weight of the guilt. She’s been living with the guilt of thinking that she killed me but really the guilt should have been mine. I wasn’t home. I didn’t protect her. I involved her in my sordid life. I let her down in the worst way possible and then I led her right back to the sick fuck who killed her inside. Red, my vision turns red. “Then you came home, early. She’s a cunning little thing, you know? She laid there like a good girl while I cleaned up, but the little bitch grabbed your pistol as I was leaving and…well you know the rest.” He snickers. His eyes shine black, deep and wild like I’ve never seen them before.
“W-Why?” I stammer. “Why would you do that to her? To me? To us?!” I scream, rage coursing through my body at an alarming rate.
“It was perfect really, I lived, you lived, and she was out of the picture. I thought you’d get your head back in the game. I needed you. Only problem with it all was that she took something of value from me. After a couple months when you still hadn’t snapped out of it I had to figure out a different plan. I needed you to get the fuck over her and recover the fucking pack - neither of which you’ve managed to do. Now I’m going to have to deal with this my way.” I spin slowly to face Magnolia. My sweet, sweet girl is shaking with such force that I’m sure she’s about to fall out of the chair or break it from the force of her movements. I search her face, hoping that this is all some sick story Ezra made up, but I can see in her eyes that it's all true. He violated her in the worst way. He violated me, too, because of it. I swallow the lump in my throat and slowly turn back to my uncle. Reaching into the waistband of my pants at my back I draw my gun. I aim it at him and begin trembling slightly.
“I wasn’t yours to mess with, Ez, she wasn’t yours to mess with. I am nothing like you. I would never rape someone. Ever! You’re a sick, sick, motherfucker!” I scream. Ezra doesn’t flinch, doesn't even gesture over the goons; instead he cackles, loudly. The blood rushing through my ears makes his laugh sound more evil than it probably is. Before another thought crosses my mind I pull the trigger. There’s a terrified scream that pierces the air as I watch Ezra fall to the floor clutching his chest. There’s a strange sense of deja vu. Mags, she screamed when the gun fired that horrible day, only I was in the way then. This time, no one tried to save Ezra. My mind snaps back to the present and I turn to Mags to cut her ties. “We have to leave. Now.” I scoop her into my arms and haul ass out of the house. Jimmy and Dave are nowhere to be found as I stick my head out of the apartment door. Ezra’s biggest problem was finding truly loyal people to work with him. The problem he always ignored when I brought it up was that if you treat people like shit, even those closest to you, they won’t stick around long.
When we get to the truck I set Mags down carefully into the passenger seat and buckle her in while taking in our surroundings. No one’s around and nothing looks out of place. I jog around to the driver’s side, hop in and throw it into drive. Mags is staring blankly out the window, silent. It makes me nervous to see her so calm. I fish my cell from my pocket and dial the one person who has a shot in hell of helping us.
“I fucked up,” I blurt into the phone.
“Spit it out,” he clips.
“I need you to meet us. Somewhere safe.”
“Us?” he grunts.
“Magnolia and me.”
He agrees and after we hang up he texts me an address. I punch it into the navigation and start following the directions.
“I can live without you, I’ve done it for so long now, but I don't want to, not anymore,” I tell her once we’re safely away from the apartment and on the road. She’s been silent all this time, just staring out the window, trembling. I’ve been checking my mirrors for the past thirty minutes for a tail but so far, it seems no one’s on to us. She doesn’t respond. She just stares out the window blankly.
Chapter 20
“Do those things that incline you toward the big questions, and avoid the things that would reduce you and make you trivial.”- George Saunders
Two hours later we’re somewhere near Lake Arrowhead in the middle of the woods on a dirt drive.
“Where are we going?” She speaks softly, as if her voice might shatter the air between us.
“A safe house.” There’s a light shining through the trees up ahead. As it gets closer I see a truck parked near a cabin. I haven’t made contact with my contact in twelve months. But in my panic I couldn’t see a better option for safety. Bentley James had been the only other person outside of Mags who was trying to get me out and away from Ezra with few or no casualties. So much for that. I'd contacted him after I'd woken up, and had told him if he found her first to keep her safe. I was still in hiding and didn't have the inside daily edge on Ezra at that point, so we both felt it wasn’t safe to risk meeting anymore.
“Stay here,” I tell her as I throw the car in park. She nods and continues to stare out the window. I don’t know how to deal with her emptiness. She’s turned off, completely shut down and it’s scaring the shit out of me. I felt like I just got her back. Why the hell wouldn’t she just disappear with me when I'd asked her to? This could have all been avoided.
I trot up the path to the front door but before I can knock Bentley swings it open and looks pissed. “Where’s Mags?” he barks. Jesus, what’s his problem?
“Hi, Bentley, oh hey - if they find out I'm talking to you, they'll kill me. Nice to see you too,” I deadpan. “She’s in the car. Safe and completely in shock. I’m worried.” His creased brow smoothes out and he pushes past me for the car.
“Bentley, wait!” I call. He doesn’t get to comfort her, that’s my job. Then again, I can’t imagine an acquaintance bringing much comfort to her anyways. He swings the door open and Mags stares up at him, completely bewildered. Her eyes change from vacant to warm to shocked.
“Bentley?” she breathes, bottom lip trembling.
“Princess, are you hurt?” he coos at her. Princess? What the fuck is going on? Her eyes stare up at him wildly, nostrils flaring. Her lips are a thin straight line now.
“What. The. Fuck?” she bites out in a calm, determined tone. Not the response I imagined but my sentiments exactly. I elbow Bentley out of the way and drop to my knees in front of her.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask, trying to calm her. Her eyes leave Bentley’s and move to mine, rage burning beneath their surface. Hard and angry.
“Who the fuck ARE you?!” she screeches. She starts violently shaking in her seat and I am at a complete loss for what to do next.
“Move,” Bentley commands.
“Screw you!” I bark over my shoulder. “Mags? Talk,” I push. She looks down at where my hand holds hers and yanks it from my grip. Swinging her legs out, she knocks me off balance and leaps out of the car.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on but if either one of you fucking come near me I w
ill beat you within an inch of your life,” she growls at us. I push up, brushing the dirt from my knees and approach her.
“I wouldn’t,” Bentley sighs. Who does he think he is? I spin around, fists clenched, and face him.
“Talk,” I spit.
“I watched her for you,” he shrugs. Magnolia gasps behind me.
“Seems like a little more,” I grind out.
“We got involved, Cane. It just happened. I care for her.” Red fills my vision again. I trusted him. I asked him to keep an eye on her. To keep her safe. I did not ask him to love her or befriend her. I charge him, swinging and cussing. He doesn’t back down, or move at all. The bastard lets me pummel him. It’s not cathartic at all. It soothes nothing in my chest right now but I keep my fist moving, connecting over and over with his face.
“STOP,” a frail voice commands. Bentley’s face is bloody as he lies in the dirt, looking away. I swivel my head around to Magnolia.
“You’re both scum,” she whispers, before turning on her heel and stumbling inside. My heart cracks wide open at the sight. Her fight seems to have left her. She carries herself like she's broken down and done trying, shoulders slumped. How would either one of us explain that we knew each other? How would I explain to her that my need to make sure she was safe always outweighed my job, my family, my own anger and confusion? Things were already so fucked up - I never anticipated that they could get any more complicated.
I storm into the cabin after her.
“Magnolia, stop! Let me explain!” I shout at her back.
She swings around to face me, her skin flushed and with tears in her eyes. “You think that I don't know you? You are dead wrong. The only thing that has ever come out of your mouth is lies. God dammit!” she shrieks, throwing her hands in the air. “I don’t want to hear your explanation. I wouldn't believe a word of it at this point.” Her voice trails off, showing her true exhaustion. She points to a door to her left. “I am sleeping in there. You are not welcome, nor is Bentley. Try not to kill each other before morning.” She shoves the door open and slams it loudly behind her. I walk to the door and put my ear to it. A loud thwack assaults my eardrum as something hits the door on the other side with great force. I jump back, worried that she knows I’m there, and slide down the wall until I’m sitting. Her soft whimpers are the only sound in the cabin and each one wrecks me a little more than the last. Why can’t I get anything right?