by Debbie Civil
Chapter 10
The pain is never ending. I cry into the satin sheets with abandon. All of it is too much. All of the emotions I hid behind a locked door all come out. The thing that kills the most is guilt. If only I hadn’t involved Peter in all of this. If he had walked away like he wanted, he wouldn’t have been in the basement. He would have been safe. I’m selfish, stupid, and careless. Otis could have been saved. But I wasn’t fast enough. The poor guy was fighting for our lives, and I hadn’t been fast enough to help him. I’m stupid, selfish, careless, and worst of all, useless. Part of me registers that I’m screaming. It hurts that bad. It’s almost as if I need some release, so I scream into the silent air. When that isn’t enough, I sit up and begin rocking as if the motion will minimize the pain. I’m a screaming, crying, rocking mess and don’t care. This is too much. All of the pain, guilt, and grief is too much to bare. Everyone expected that I would relapse, snap, or go off the deep end. Well, they must be happy now. All of them must be super happy that they were all right. I couldn’t just come back from the Gipson Academy and live a completely normal life without worries. Mom had been waiting for this very moment. She had been trying to protect me from myself. What did I do? I ran from her. That was probably another one of my careless decisions. Everyone wants to know why I jumped. Maybe the answer is much simpler than they all thought. Maybe the guilt, pain and memories were just too much. Heaven knows, if I had an out right now, I would take it. It hurts so badly.
“Chelsea,” a voice calls. It’s not Danny anymore. Tiller is calling me. Hearing his voice somehow makes it all worse. My older brother could never understand me. He’s clean and I’m tainted.
“Sorry, Tiller. I’m a murderer,” I wail.
“Chelsea,” Tiller calls as he touches my shoulder. The undeserving show of affection hurts even more.
“Please. Don’t touch me. It hurts too much. Oh Tiller, it hurts,” I sob.
“Sweetheart, what hurts?” Peter asks. The bed dips and he sits beside me. He and I have a camaraderie because he had to kill to protect me.
“I… Made… You… Kill… It’s… All… My… Fault…” I say those words between racking sobs.
“No. This isn’t your fault, Chelsea,” Peter gently says.
“I made you kill. And then I left you,” I cry as my sobs slowdown in intensity. Suddenly, exhaustion fills me. The release makes my eyes close.
“She feels guilty about what happened,” Peter says.
“What should we do?” Tiller asks him.
“Leave her alone. I went through it,” he tells my brother. Tiller says something, but I can’t make it out. Sleep claims me and it’s a welcome relief.
“Chelsea,” Carmen calls. I grumble into the pillow. But she doesn’t relent. “Chelsea, wake up.” Now the girl is shaking me. I roll over on my back and force my tired eyes open. It’s bright in the room. I frown, not recognizing the pale pink walls and the antique furniture. Then, the memories slam into me. Danny and I had a fight, and then I ran up here to get away from her. I must have fallen asleep.
“What time is it?” I whine.
“Ten o'clock A.M. Tiller has made your favorite, peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies,” Carmen announces and my stomach grumbles. That sounds nice right about now. I sit up slowly and rub my eyes.
“How was the cookout?”
“Awkward. No one wanted to talk to anyone else after what happened. We ate and watched a movie. Peter slept in here with you,” Carmen says, pointedly staring at the pillow beside me. Disappointment fills me at the thought of not knowing he slept beside me.
“I sleep like the dead. I didn’t even notice.”
“He didn’t want to leave you alone. It’s pretty sweet,” Carmen says wistfully. She was probably hoping that Dominic would have been that attentive. Dominic. He’s coming here today.
“Dominic,” I squeak.
“He’s here. They are all eating breakfast downstairs.” Her face is filled with hope. Carmen doesn’t want to face him alone. I force a smile and stand. My sundress is completely wrinkled. My sandals rest by the door.
“Peter unpacked for you. All of your clothes are neatly folded in on the left side of the dresser drawers,” Carmen reports. I fish out a pair of sweats and steal Peter’s t-shirt because it looks more comfortable. After changing my clothes, I use the private bathroom and brush my teeth and wash my face. After slipping into a pair of black flip-flops that are in the nearly empty walk in closet, I follow Carmen down the hall. I want to take a shower, but that can come after my stomach is filled. We walk down the stairs, down the hall and into the kitchen. Everyone is sitting around the island. I look at all of the faces and my eyes land on a tan skinned guy with black hair who couldn’t be more than twenty-two. His blue eyes are friendly, and he’s muscular. To be truthful, I wanted to hate him on Carmen’s behalf. But his eyes are just too kind.
“Sweetheart?” Peter asks hesitantly. My eyes light up when I spot him, sitting beside Tiller, an empty seat between him and Grace. I rush over to Peter and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. Tiller groans about unnecessary PDA, and I shoot him a glare. I hop onto the stole and frown when I notice that the only empty seat is beside Dominic. Carmen slowly walks over to the seat as if it would explode if she approaches it the wrong way. After she sits, Dominic’s eyes land on her. Then, he looks at me with open curiosity.
“Chelsea, right?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know who I am already. How lame.
“Dominic?” I ask, playing his game.
“It’s nice to meet you. Danny has been telling me all about you. So, are you all right?” I glare at Danny, who has mostly told him about my episode yesterday. She looks away and continues to eat her waffles.
“Tiller, Carmen and I are hungry,” I say, smirking at him. He ruffles my hair on his way to the oven. He opens it and pulls out our plates. He drops the biggest load in front of me. My mouth pops open. Waffles, hash browns, bacon, eggs, and home fries are piled high in front of me. After he gives me utensils and a tall glass of lemonade, because I only drink orange juice if I have too, I dig in.
“So Dominic, what are you studying?” Grace asks, putting on a charming smile.
“Business. My father owns a fabric empire and I’m taking over the family business someday,” he announces with confidence.
“What are some of your hobbies?” Rain asks.
“I go to an Ivy League university. I don’t have any time for hobbies.’ He laughs, because this is supposed to be funny. We all join in to make things less awkward. I peer over at Malcolm, who is texting. I guess that’s the only way he can deal with Dominic. I’m itching for my phone because this meal is filled with too much tension.
“So, Malcolm, what’s your major?” Dominic asks. Peter’s brother looks up and frowns.
“Pre-med. I want to be a psychiatrist,” he announces.
“Such a waste. Wouldn’t you rather cure diseases? All Psychiatry does is allow people to pop pills. I mean look at Chelsea over here, she went to a school and was treated by a doctor, and she still freaks out.”
“And that’s none of your business,” Jake hisses before any of us can say anything.
“Jake, Danny is my business. She’s a loose cannon, and you’re allowing her around your sister? What if Chelsea had a knife? My poor fianceé would have been laid up in some hospital. They have one disagreement, and she goes postal. Danny has every right to be angry. She spent an entire semester sitting by Chelsea’s bedside. She deserves answers,” Dominic argues. Peter looks as though he might strangle the guy.
“Dominic, you’ve crossed the line. Chelsea did not go postal. She had an emotional break down because your girlfriend started with her,” Peter snaps.
“Oh, please. Danny told me what happened.”
“So she told you how she’s been checking out Malcolm for the last day?” I blurt out. Danny’s face turns red. “Did she really tell you why we were arguing? I was trying to tell her that she was being selfish.
Believe it or not Dominic, I was looking out for you. I was concerned that the press would find us here, and you would become a target. She was more worried about provoking Malcolm. That’s why she invited you here to begin with. Don’t allude yourself by believing that Danny’s really into you. Yesterday, you weren’t on her mind,” I hiss. Danny stands and storms out of the house, and I feel bad. Malcolm is giving me the “What the?” look and all I can do is shrug. Dominic looks at Jake, and he nods. Then, he stands and follows Danny out of the house. Judging by the looks everyone’s shooting me, I just screwed up.
“Well, you were provoked,” Jake interjects before taking a bite out of the waffles.
“I would never hurt any of you. I can’t believe that he insinuated,” I tell everyone.
“He doesn’t know you, sweetheart,” Peter says gently.
“And here I thought that Dominic was actually a nice guy,” I say, feeling foolish for the wrong assessment.
“He is nice. He’s just jealous of Danny’s interest in Malcolm,” Jake says, and I immediately feel bad all over again.
“He still shouldn’t have called you crazy,” Rain argues.
“I shouldn’t have been so harsh. I probably caused an argument,” I whine, looking down at the plate, my appetite now gone.
“It’s all right, Chelsea. Dominic’s madly in love with my sister. He’ll forgive her,” Jake assures me. I looked at Malcolm, who has resumed texting. He’s in a difficult situation. The poor guy wants nothing more than to leave this house.
“Hey, Malcolm, could you do a favor for me?” He looks at me and grins.
“Sure. What is it?”
“Could you take Grace shopping for some clothes?” Grace frowns at me. “You can’t wear sweats for the rest of your life and I think it would be good for Malcolm to get out of the house.”
“The two of you could borrow my car,” Jake chimes in. I shoot my best friend a warning look, and she sighs.
“Fine. That sounds fun.”
“No problem. Grace, let me know when you’re ready,” Malcolm says before leaving the table. I stand and stretch.
“Well, I’m going to take a shower,” I announce.
“What about the rest of your food?” Carmen asks.
“I’m not hungry. Tiller can you please save this for me?” My brother nods and I rush out of the room.
Because this day already blows, I take my time taking a shower. After my hair is washed and blow dried, I change back into the sweats and sit on the bed. What happened? Poor Tiller had slaved over a breakfast that had been ruined by an awkward confrontation with Danny’s jealous fiancé. Seriously? He thought that I would hurt Danny? Of course he thinks that. I’m a killer after all. But I only killed to save everyone. ‘
“Can I come in, sweetheart?” Peter asks. I look up and see my boyfriend standing in the doorway, clearly unsure of himself.
“Of course. This is your room too.” He nods in agreement and comes in and gently shuts the door closed behind him. Alone at last. He sits down on the bed and tentatively grabs my hand. I intertwine my fingers with his.
“How are you?” he asks.
“Fine. You?”
“Good, now that you’re around,” he confesses. I shake my head at him. “Chelsea, I’m telling the truth. Everything in that letter… I meant what I said.”
“I didn’t love Adam. I was obsessed with him,” I tell Peter. “What I feel for you is different. Peter Jacobs, you have my heart.”
“Chelsea Philips, you have mine.” His eyes are filled with love and peace. If it were possible, I would swim in them.
“I’m sorry about yesterday. It’s just…”
“When Lilly triggered my memories, I drank until I passed out. That’s when Mom forced me to see Dr. Cruz. Chelsea, I’m not perfect. Sometimes, I drink just to go to sleep. But I’m working on it,” he says.
“How do you get liquor?” I ask, not thinking that he had a fake ID.
“I ask my older friends to get me stuff. They don’t ask questions and I pay for it.” I frown at Peter.
“How did you start drinking?” I ask, remembering how he had refused drinking a wine cooler at the beach two years ago.
I went over my friend Jason’s apartment and he had some Absolut. I drank a shot, and it numbed all of the pain. Chelsea… I…” I squeeze his hand.
“I’m so sorry I left you, Peter. That wasn’t fair to you.” A tear trickles down my face. I’ve made so many mistakes that have impacted so many people.
“Chelsea, I’m not condoning what you did. But I understand it. Your father was awful to you. He blamed you for a lot of things. He…”
“Peter, it doesn’t matter what my father said. That still didn’t give me an excuse to jump out of a moving limo. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I’m also lucky that you still love me. Peter, most guys would have moved on and dated a girl with fewer problems. I understand how fortunate I am. I don’t know why God has blessed me with you. But I promise that I’ll be better to you because you deserve it.” I have no idea how it happened, but one moment, Peter is staring at me in awe. The next, he’s released my hand, and we both fall back on the bed. He leans over me, his arms caging in my head and begins to kiss me. First, his lips brush against my forehead, down to the tip of my nose, and then to my lips. When our lips meet, passion fills my veins. His kisses are gentle at first. Then, I open my mouth, and everything reaches a new level. His kisses are deep and scorching. My hands are everywhere, in his hair and under his shirt. I want more. We both do. Peter raises his arms and shrugs out of his shirt. I stare at his defined chest and beautiful smooth skin. I leaned up and began trailing kisses down his chest. Peter fists his hands in my hair and groans in pleasure. Abruptly, he takes control again. I’m flat on my back, and his lips are on my neck. Emotions envelop me. I truly love this guy. Desire is like an impulse that I just can’t shake. He’s mine and I’m his. We need to be closer.
“Peter,” I rasp out. “Kiss me.” His lips abruptly leave my neck and he presses his lips to mine. I’m about to wrap my legs around his back to pull him closer when the door bangs open