Captive

by R. J. Lewis

  Flynn’s expression broke. The rage dissipated. The pain returned as he looked back at me. “And Vixen?”

  “Vixen will be okay,” Nixon responded. “I promise.”

  “I’ll be okay,” I told Flynn.

  My body was tight with anticipation. I pleaded for Flynn to leave, to not do something stupid again. He’d done enough. No more.

  I didn’t know if Nixon was tricking him. I held my breath, expecting the worst, but Nixon just stood there, unflinching.

  Flynn took more steps back, keeping his front facing us. Nixon slowly lowered his gun and then raised a hand at the others. One by one they lowered their weapons, though I saw Doll quake, an angry look on her blood sodden face.

  The second they were all lowered, Flynn turned his back to us and ran across the beach. In the distance was a small dinghy tied to a log on the rocks. The seaplane still sat in the waters, unmoving, its engine still alive. As Flynn untied the craft, I turned around and hurried to Nixon. He dropped his gun and quickly wrapped his arms around me. I pressed my face against his chest, breathing in his scent mixed with the scent of copper and dirt.

  “You okay?” he asked me gruffly.

  “Why didn’t you kill him?” I asked, staggered.

  “I’m tired of killing people, Vix. I’ve seen his rage…in myself. His road shouldn’t come to an end from my hand. He’s…got a lot of life left.”

  “I thought you were tricking him. I thought you were going to kill him.”

  “And it would have hurt you if I did it. I think you like Flynn’s goodness.”

  “I do.”

  “I know, baby.”

  I shut my eyes as he held me. I felt whole being in his arms.

  “I remembered.” My voice cracked as I pulled away to look up at him. “I remembered everything in that cabin.”

  He smiled weakly at me. “Now you can heal.”

  I smiled back, though my heart beat harder because Nixon didn’t seem right. There was no glow in his eyes.

  “Rowan’s on the ground, breathing,” Tyrone suddenly said, coming to our side.

  “Where was he shot?” Nixon asked.

  “Leg. He’s moaning like a sissy bitch.”

  Nixon chuckled. “Drag him to the shore.”

  Tyrone left our side and Doll replaced it. Her hands were all over me, turning my face from side to side with concerned eyes. “He hurt you?” she asked, teeth clenched.

  “No,” I answered.

  “I would have shot that fucker in the head –”

  “Leave him be,” Nixon cut in, face pale. “This one goes.”

  Doll shook her head in disbelief. “I never knew you to be merciful, Nixon.”

  Nixon’s lips quirked up. “I’m feeling a little weak right now.”

  “He destroyed your island.”

  “It needed to be done. It’s time to move on.”

  She gave him a sad smile and left our side. Nixon took me by the hand and walked me to the beach. I stopped midway to remove my heels. My feet sank into the wet sand now as we trudged. The sound of the dinghy engine roared in the distance. Flynn took off from the rocks, moving in the direction of the plane. We stopped to watch as the door to the plane opened, letting him on.

  I looked back at Nixon, feeling my heart sink now. “Is the island really ruined?”

  Nixon nodded slowly. “The hotel’s gone. The shops are up in flames.”

  “All those people…”

  “Don’t worry,” he assured me. “I’ll make sure they’re taken care of. Whatever the cost. Tyrone promised he would do that for me.” Before I could respond, he squeezed my hand. “Come,” he urged, walking me down the shore in the direction of the very rocks the dinghy had been tied to.

  “We should be going back,” I told him. “You look wrecked, Nixon.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “Just come…”

  As we moved, I glanced behind me, noticing Tyrone and Tiger in the distance, carrying Rowan along the shore. Doll was all over him, frantically kissing his face. Her soft cries could be heard from the distance.

  We reached the rocks just as the seaplane took off. The dinghy was left abandoned, swaying with the current in the beach’s direction. I watched as the plane lifted from the waters and flew overhead. As I stared, I noticed how big and bright the moon looked tonight.

  “How bad is the clean up going to be?” I wondered, looking at Nixon. “All those bodies everywhere.”

  “All Flynn’s men,” Nixon replied, his body swaying with the breeze.

  “This is going to make the news.”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll have to leave.”

  He nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  I looked at him under the glow of the moon, and he didn’t meet my eye. He stared past me and to the ocean. His lips looked cracked, the bags under his eyes worsened. Then…he smiled softly and nodded his head at something.

  I followed his gaze, looking into the dark waters.

  I heard the soft sound of an engine. I squinted my eyes, concentrating, trying to make out what it was as it grew louder.

  I saw a large shape coming in our direction. A motorboat emerged from the darkness, stealing my breath.

  “Are we going to motor to the marina?” I asked Nixon, looking confusedly at him.

  He slowly shook his head. “No, baby.”

  “Then what…”

  Still holding my hand, he fell to his knees suddenly, knocking me down with him. A soft groan escaped his lips as he forced his head up, staring at the waters. Panicked, I looked him over, noticing now his hand was pressed to the side of his body. I grabbed at his hand, determined to pull it away. I blinked rapidly, noticing his hand was drenched in…

  “Nixon!” I cried, panicked. “You’re hurt!” I looked behind us, at the figures still trailing the beach. “He’s hurt!” I screamed.

  “They know,” Nixon breathed out calmly. “Baby, they know.”

  “Were you shot?” I gripped his arm, desperate to look him over, but he wouldn’t let his hand go for me to see.

  “I’m okay,” he assured me. “Put your hand down.”

  But I didn’t. “Nixon, you need the hospital.” I looked at the motorboat now as it slowed down, approaching us. “We need to get you up.”

  “I’m not going, Vixen,” he told me.

  I broke out in trembles, feeling utterly lost and terrified. “I don’t understand. I don’t know what’s going on. You’re bleeding, Nixon. There’s a boat. There’s a fucking boat. You’ll come on…”

  “I’m bleeding out.”

  “You’ll be okay if we get you to the hospital –”

  “Victoria, enough,” he cut in, looking at me now with desperate eyes. “You need to get up. You need to go to the boat. Hobbs is there.”

  Tears fell from my eyes. I was bewildered. Stumped. Robbed of all breath and all reason, I cried out, “What are you doing? I don’t understand.”

  His lips trembled as he leaned into me now, eyes focused on mine. I saw the tears brimming in their depths. With a choked voice, he said, “I’m letting you go,”

  I fell back in shock, my butt hitting the sand. I looked at him with round eyes. My chest caved in on itself. Everything inside me shook and roared. Dizzied, I felt…betrayed. “You’re letting me go?” I rasped out, sounding as betrayed as I felt.

  “You think I want to?” he asked with a hard laugh, tears falling from his eyes. “I feel like I’m being sawed in half. I’m giving you your freedom. Don’t think I’m doing it because I don’t want you. Don’t think I’m doing it because the light’s come to me. I’m only doing it because I have to. Baby, I’m bleeding out…”

  Blood fell between his fingers. He was surrounded in puddles of it. His sweater was drenched. His skin was ghostly now.

  I sobbed, shaking my head. “You’re okay –”

  “Get your ass up,” he admonished me. “Go to the boat.”

  “I can’t leave you.”

&n
bsp; “You’ve been begging me to let you go.”

  “I can’t be without you.”

  “You can.”

  “I didn’t mean any of it,” I wept. “I told you I remembered. You saved me, Nixon.”

  He chuckled now in shock. “Saved you? Is that what you think? Poor girl, I took you for myself.”

  “I let it happen,” I quickly said. “I played the game along with you. I forced myself to forget because I didn’t want to believe it was real. It was easier to hate you…because it hurt too much to love again. I couldn’t stand to be abandoned again. Mom left me and I was so fucking alone, Nixon…”

  “Victoria…”

  “Don’t abandon me, too, Nixon. Get up, get up and go to the boat with me.”

  But he was hardly able to keep his eyes open now. His body sank further into the sand. “My time’s over,” he forced out. “But I got to have you. I got to have something real in the end. I got to love with all my heart. I got to feel a person capture my soul. Not everyone can say they’ve loved so whole before. I was your captive, baby, right from the start.”

  As he lay bent, I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face against his back, sobbing into him. He was dying, fading from the world, finding the light on the other side.

  “I love you,” I told him sincerely. “You were the only person to ever fight for me, to ever look at me like I was worth something. You killed for me, Nixon.”

  I settled my face between his shoulder and neck. I kissed his neck and cheek, shutting my eyes to the feeling.

  “Nicholas,” he whispered to me just then. “That’s my name, baby.” I shook through my sobs as he dropped his forehead to the sand. “Go to the boat…”

  “But I can’t leave you here.”

  “I want to die on my island,” he told me calmly. “I want to say goodbye to our home. I want to see you fade into the dark. Then I’m going to see Leona. She’ll be on the other side. She’s waiting for me, baby. Now go.”

  A warm hand touched my back. I looked up, wrecked. Tyrone stared down at me with a tender expression. “Get up, Vixen.”

  Doll came at my side, hugging me from behind, whispering, “We have to go, Vixen.”

  She forced my arms from Nixon’s body and pulled me back. Tyrone took me by the hand and forced me into the water, in the direction of the boat. I resisted at first, shaking my head at him, my voice lost.

  “This was how it was always going to be,” he told me gently. “You two were never going to make it. Only one person was going to come out of this.”

  I stared at Nixon as he fell to his side, his chest moving slowly. “Tyrone, you can’t make me leave him like this…”

  “He doesn’t want you to watch this.”

  “Tyrone –”

  “Time to go back to the real world. Back to your life.” His voice toughened. “Do it. For him.”

  Letting me go, Tyrone stood tall, watching me.

  It took everything in me to turn away, to look at the boat not ten feet away. The water was at my knees as I forced myself to move in its direction. I heard splashes behind me. Tiger overtook me, carrying Rowan over his shoulders. Doll came to my side, holding my hand, urging me to move.

  I tried to turn around, compelled to go back, but she tugged me, telling me to move.

  Every step I drew closer to the boat, I was growing number and number. My heart couldn’t bear the weight it felt any longer. My breaths came laborious, my knees buckled. If not for Doll, I’d have fallen into the water and let it submerge me.

  I loved him.

  I really did.

  I loved him so much.

  I’d denied him of it.

  This was a regret I was never going to move past.

  I was empty by the time I reached the boat. I felt Tiger’s arms around me, pulling me out of the water. He set me down onto the hard floor, and I crumbled at Hobbs’ feet, sobbing.

  I kept crying out words I didn’t know I was saying until I’d look back on it.

  Don’t let me go.

  Don’t let me leave him like this.

  Don’t let me go.

  Hobbs ran a hand through my hair, saying nothing. Doll climbed in and held me tight as the boat turned.

  I never looked up to see the beach fading from view. I never took my final look at him as the boat sped, leaving my heart behind with him.

  It was another regret I would never forgive.

  Nixon…

  He heard the engine fade, taking with it his love.

  He fell to his back and stared up at the night sky. He felt like his whole body was being leeched dry. The burn in his side spread, consuming his chest like a raging fire.

  Fitting to go like this, feeling the same burn his island did.

  Fitting, that of the two, she was the last one standing.

  If it were the other way around, he would not have been able to endure that.

  “I’ve never loved so hard,” he murmured lifelessly.

  Tyrone sank to the ground with him. “Maybe that’s why it had to end. Maybe the world couldn’t handle that much love.”

  Tears slid down the side of his face. “Do you think she loved me the same, Tyrone?”

  The plea rattled Tyrone to the core. He gripped Nixon’s hand and held him tight. “I think she did, buddy.”

  “Funny,” he whispered, shaking his head a little. “I don’t think she did…”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “She never wanted me, Tyrone.”

  “She just told you she loved you.”

  “She would have told me anything seeing me like this…”

  The blood wouldn’t stop seeping from his body.

  It was everywhere.

  He was being sucked dry, until the only thing left in his veins was the poison Victoria put there.

  Nixon watched the stars twinkle, smiled up at the darkness and felt peace in his heart.

  He let the darkness consume him.

  Only…it didn’t feel dark anymore.

  It felt like a bright spark of light all around.

  His final thoughts were of Leona.

  He whispered, “I love you,” to her as she sank down at his side, smiling down at his face.

  44.

  Two Years Later…

  Victoria…

  I woke up to the same feeling of pain in my chest every single day. I didn’t think much of it, though. I’d gotten used to the pain. I went through the days with a similar aching feeling in my chest I’d felt before I’d been on that island, before I’d met Nixon.

  I’d seen so much death, had felt so much fear, I’d stopped going to therapy because my therapist just liked to tell me to hang in there all the fucking time, but she used a lot of pretty verses to disguise it.

  When I wasn’t stuck in a cubicle answering phone calls for the moving company I worked at, I did a lot of things alone.

  Unplugged from the world, I often rode the buses across town and walked the bustling streets of Vancouver feeling like just another face in the crowd.

  And I always had my camera at hand.

  I took photos of anything that captured my heart. Be it the rain streaking a window, or a little girl splashing in the puddles – there was so much beauty around when you weren’t nose deep in a screen.

  Looking up and around made a world of a difference.

  It made the pain dull just enough I could smile without tears pricking my eyes.

  I was alone before Nixon – I was alone after him – and this time being alone didn’t scare me so much.

  I learned I was adaptable.

  I could blend in just fine.

  I could cope.

  It also helped I met Brian.

  He breathed a bit of life into me.

  He was my neighbour in a mediocre building on a mediocre street. A good distraction when I wanted to not think about a certain stubbled face.

  It was okay to be distracted, I convinced myself. Two years of healing, it was time to live a little.


  We met in the elevator when I moved into the apartment six months ago. Before that I’d been living with Kimberly, but then she’d gotten engaged to her boyfriend and they moved in together. She felt guilty for leaving me to find another place, but it was okay. I liked the thought of living alone, even if it meant being financially strapped.

  Man, I was so financially destitute, it wasn’t even funny.

  In another life, I may have gone back to school, finished my degree and been in a better place. But I couldn’t seem to refocus my energies into that. I found myself needing to heal by just learning to be on my own and coming to terms with Nixon’s death.

  I was learning to survive each and every day, finding myself back to square one.

  Unpampered. Crappy clothes from the thrift store – sometimes at Walmart if I wanted to live large. Haircuts from a shitty salon. I never got my vagina waxed anymore – too expensive, so I shaved my snatch instead and had many ingrown hairs to recover from.

  This was reality.

  I didn’t evolve into some beautiful butterfly. I was still the fucking caterpillar, only more damaged and still struggling to make a well-intact cocoon.

  A knock sounded.

  I looked at myself in the mirror, dressed in a white tank top and black skirt – sans gumboots this time. I brushed my hair before piling it up high. Then I threw the remaining hairpins in my purse – loaded with a whopping fifteen dollars and sixteen cents – and answered the knock on my door.

  “Hey, you,” Brian said, smiling as he stepped inside with a bag in hand. He dropped his head to my level and gave me a chaste kiss. “I picked a movie.”

  “What’re we watching?” I asked as I pulled away to move to the kitchen. I grabbed the packet of popcorn and threw it in the microwave and took a giant step back.

  “War of the Worlds,” he answered, already setting it up in the tiny living room. “Why did you move away from the microwave like that?”

  “It’s been making these weird electrical sounds,” I replied. “Landlord won’t do anything about it.”

  He was amused. “You think it’ll blow up in your face?”

  I laughed weakly. “Yeah.”

  Not really. I just hated loud noises. Took me back to gun fire and bullets whizzing over my head.