by Rachel Leigh
Uncertainty feasts on me.
Is it worth giving up everything to go somewhere else where I will have to do the same thing next year or next month? Hell, it could be next week. When does this cycle end? At what point, do I get to live? To find my happily ever after?
I’ve fought against people my entire life. Dad always said that I was my own worst enemy. Maybe he was right; I self-destruct more than I self-love.
Maybe it's time to prove him wrong. Maybe it's time to fight for myself, instead of against myself.
22
Knox
“Come on, man. The party starts in twenty-minutes. Who the hell needs to practice getting married? Can’t they just finalize it all tonight and call it good?” Axel says, through the speaker of the phone pressed to my ear.
“It’s called a rehearsal, you half-minded nitwit. There is still an actual wedding on Sunday, and you are still expected to be there.”
“Fuck my life. Alright, hurry your ass up. The hotties are starting to show up, and I’m two seconds away from an orgy.”
“Is Harper there?”
Mom walks by, waving her hands in the air, to get my attention. She’s been a bridezilla today, and I expect it will only get worse.
“Hell no, Harper isn’t here, and you better not invite her ass either.”
The call ends.
I knew she wasn’t there, but I just stopped him from making a huge mistake. If Harper is on his mind, he won’t touch another woman. Not that I care, but it’s his birthday, and I’d like to party a little bit, before he spends his night in bed, getting his cock sucked by some random women, (yes...women), while tipping back a fifth of vodka.
Claire was supposed to be here tonight. We could have been stealing kisses in this very room, at this very moment. She called Mom and said she couldn’t make it. Said she had something come up at the last minute. I know nothing came up. She’s just avoiding me. It hurts, but I’ll make it right.
I grab a baby pickle off the relish tray on the counter and pop it in my mouth, before walking through the sliding glass doors to the backyard. Everyone is lined up and watching me, like they’ve all been waiting on me. My bad.
I look over to the guesthouse and catch Claire’s car backed up to it. My heart sinks deep into my stomach when she walks out with two boxes stacked on top of each other. She’s wearing a pair of grey cut off sweat shorts and a pink tank top with her hair piled into a beautiful mess on the top of her head.
“Today, Knox,” Mom hollers from the side of the deck, where she waits with Grandpa.
I look over to Mom and back to Claire. “Can we put this on hold for just a minute?” I have to talk to her—stop her.
“No, we cannot. We’ve waited on you long enough, now get down there next to Jasper and Isaac.”
I stall. Looking, thinking, hoping like hell that she is just putting some stuff in storage.
“Now!” Mom yells, getting impatient with me.
I pull my phone out of the pocket of my shorts and send her a text, as I walk down the grass aisle. The thick, dry air makes it a struggle to take a deep breath, and with the anxiety looming, I fight to breathe at all.
Me: Where are you going? Please, don’t go anywhere. I’m coming over in ten minutes. Wait for me.
“Glad you could join us, Jackass.” Jasper nudges me, as I stand in line next to him.
“Fuck off.” I nudge him back. A year ago, we would have been throwing down at this rehearsal. The idea of even standing next to him would have made me lose my shit. Now, I have nothing but respect for him. Even if we only communicate through vulgarity and insults, we have nothing but love for one another.
My eyes are glued to the back of Claire’s car, as I watch her carry yet another box out. I take a deep breath, trying to hold my composure. Forcing my feet to stay put and not run over to her.
I pull my phone back out, and Isaac shakes his head at me. I look up and see Mom walking towards us, then stick it back in my pocket.
I twist my head around the men lined up and watch, as Claire glances at her phone, looks over to the rehearsal in search of me, then walks back into the house.
I know she read it.
Mom finally gets up, here after walking at an extremely slow pace. I brush the sweat from my forehead and begin tapping my foot, not even realizing it, until Jasper kicks my shin.
“Ouch, Asshole,” I screech.
Mom shoots me a look of disapproval. I didn’t even notice, until now, how beautiful and happy she looks. Everyone around me exudes nothing but happiness. Blakely sits in the front row of perfectly lined up white chairs. I catch her and Jasper exchanging a look, and for a moment, I’m envious.
That’s what I want. Someone who I can just look at and know exactly what they are thinking. Someone who I can share a smile with, when only we know what we are smiling about.
Claire and I can have that. She just needs to give this a chance. We can have it all. I beat myself up over all the reasons that she deserves someone who can give her more, that I didn’t realize until now that I can give it all to her. I may not have money or things to offer, but I can give her a look in a room full of strangers and tell her how much I love her, with just my eyes alone. I can hold her and protect her when the lightning strikes out of nowhere and she needs shelter, I can be her shelter.
The pastor wraps things up and does his fake announcement then Isaac begins his speech, thanking all of us.
Can we just get this damn thing over with already?
Just as he announces for everyone to join us for dinner, I look over and see Claire, shutting the hood of her trunk. She walks over to the driver’s side and gets it. I don’t even wait for him to finish; I book it. I haul ass over to her yard, running through Blakely’s yard. But, I’m too late. Just as I reach the front of the house, I see her car fading, until it’s no longer visible.
I drop to my knees, on the side of the house, burying my face in my hands.
She’s gone.
“Are you okay?” Blakely squats beside me. “Knox, what’s wrong?” her voice holds concern, as she places her hand on my back.
“Where did Claire,” I correct myself, “Ms. Hyland go?”
“She moved out. Why? What’s going on?” She drops her head to get a look at my face.
“Any idea where she’s going?” I don’t look at her. I just stare straight ahead, trying to grasp the fact that I just let her drive out of my life for good. I should have fought harder.
“She didn’t say. I know she’s your art teacher, but can I ask why you are so worried about where she’s going?”
“She wasn’t just my art teacher. She was so much more than that.” I get to my feet and start walking to my house.
Let people talk. Let them wonder. I don’t even care.
None of it matters anymore.
The party is about as lit as I am, when I stagger up the yard. A bonfire blazes, and the pool is open, and some party goers are fully clothed, some wearing bathing suits, and some wearing nothing at all.
“Are you sure you’re good?” Blakely lets go of my arm, freeing me.
It’s Axel’s eighteenth birthday party. Shit is about to go down.
“I told you guys, I’m fine. Go home and make a baby or something.” I jerk myself away. I can already tell how this night is going to end. I plan on getting shitfaced and passing out, maybe even in my own vomit.
I walk up, and the first thing I notice is Kip and Taya snuggled up on a porch swing, about ten feet from the fire.
“Get a fucking room,” I snap, stumbling over my own two feet. Axel is at my side in a flash, throwing his arm out and catching me, before I go face first into the fire.
“Damn, Knox. I’d say what took you so long, but I think I’ve got it figured out. Tapping into step-daddy’s liquor again?”
I pull a bottle of something from the front pocket of my hoodie. I hold it up, as I try to read what it says. “What is this?”
“That’s whiskey, m
y friend, and if you drank all of that on your own, you’re about five minutes from a coma.”
“Nah, it was already opened when I snatched it up.” I unscrew the top and tip it back, taking in every last drop. Enjoying the burn, as it makes its way through me. I screw the top back on and give it a toss, watching as it shatters against a tree. A group of girls jump, then look over in our direction. “Oops.”
“Kip,” Axel shouts, “Get me a water.” He wraps his arm around my waist. “You, come with me.”
He tries to lead me somewhere, and I assume it’s to murder me and hide my body in the woods. I know what his family does. I know his dad isn’t just a business owner. You don’t get all of this from running a dozen measly small-town businesses. Rumor has it that he’s involved in organized crime. Axel just doesn’t talk much about it.
“Let me go. I’m good. See.” I stand tall, straightening my back and bringing my hand around my body, up to my face and touching my finger to my nose. “See what I just did there.”
Kip returns with a water bottle and tries to hand it to me, but I smack it out of his hand. “I need a beer, fucker, not water.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this wasted,” Kip whispers, in his Kip-like-way, meaning it wasn’t quiet at all.
“Get him a beer,” Axel demands. I look at him with a scowl and feel like I should defend Kip. Axel is always bossing him around, like he’s his own personal servant. I just keep my mouth shut, I have enough problems of my own to deal with. Besides, I really need one.
Kip runs off like a good lad and fetches my beer. Hurrying back over to us, as it sloshes over the rim of the plastic cup.
“Thank you, Kip. Such a good friend you are.” I suck the foam off the top and take a big gulp.
“So, it looks like I’m single. Not that I ever wasn’t. But, it looks like it’s staying that way. Where are all these hotties you were talking about?” My eyes skim the crowd. Sure, there are some good looking girls here, but they are just that—girls. None of them hold a candle to the woman who Claire is.
Claire.
My thoughts shift to her.
“Over here.” Axel nods to the pool. We walk through the gated entry, and he helps me down on a lounge chair.
I kick my legs out in front of me, and Axel hands me my cup of beer. Bodies stagger around the poolside. Cups float in the highly chlorinated water. The strong smell mixes with the breeze of smoke from the fire that blows in our direction. The more I focus on it; the more my stomach turns.
“Spill it, what happened?” Axel slouches down beside me.
“Just having a good time.” I rest my head back and close my eyes, enjoying the darkness.
“You never get like this. Something happened. Was it the rehearsal? Ms. Hyland?”
I keep my eyes shut tightly, remembering the dark storage room I took her in, just twenty-four hours ago. Things sure went to hell fast. “She’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s gone? Gone where?”
“No fucking idea. She packed up her house and left. I went inside once she was gone, and the place was emptied of all her stuff. Just a resignation letter left behind.” My eyes shoot open, and I push myself up. “She didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye. After all we’ve been through, that’s what I get.” I shake my head then slam the contents of the cup.
“So what do you plan to do about it.” He slaps my leg. “Are you just gonna let her go?”
“What choice do I have? I don’t know a damn thing about her.”
“Bro, you are a lot of things...a shitty drunk, a pain in the ass, and a pushover, but what you are not is a quitter.”
Claire is worth fighting for, but I wouldn’t even know where to start. Besides, she may not want to be found.
“I think I’m throwing in the towel on this one.” I toss my cup at the pool, but it’s about five feet short, and it hits my foot.
“Hell no, you’re not.” He grabs a chair and pulls it over, taking a seat. “Alright, tell me what you do know. Where is she from? Where does her family live?”
“Fuck. I don’t know any of that. She didn’t open up much.”
“She lived in Blakely’s guesthouse. Worked at the school. How did she get that gig? You gotta start from the beginning.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to start. Will you help me?”
“Of course, I will. I’m Axel fucking Thorn. I’ve got connections all over the world. Under one condition, you don’t back out of this fight tomorrow. Suck up your sorrows and stick to the plan.”
My eyes feel like they are carrying sandbags, so I don’t even fight to open them. The sounds around me still echo in my ears, but slowly fade away—just like she did.
Until there is nothing left.
23
Claire
“What the hell are you doing? Get your dirty hands off me.” I swing my arms around, unsure of where they will land or who they might land on.
The last thing I remember is that I was at the gas station. I pulled up to the pump to get gas, and the next thing I know, I’m waking up blindfolded with my hands tied in my lap in the back seat of a car. I know exactly who is behind this, but it’s not the voice coming from the front seat, nor the touch of the guy who keeps manhandling me every time I try to kick open the door.
“Just take it easy, Mrs. Rossi. We will be there soon.” That voice again. It’s familiar, but it’s not a voice from my past.
It’s the voice of someone from my present life. From my life as Claire Hyland. I need to hear it again. I’m so close to putting it together.
“Where are you taking me? To Malcolm?” I remain calm with my legs perched in front of me. Of course, they are. Why else would this person call me, Mrs. Rossi. But that voice, whoever it is, should not know that I am, in fact, Mrs. Rossi.
“It’s time to go home.” His voice is gruff and manly.
As if the lightbulb just switched on, I know exactly who it is.
“Zeke?” I mutter.
He doesn’t respond.
“Why are you doing this? Are you working for Malcolm?”
Still nothing.
Malcolm must have found me. He must have gotten to Zeke and filled his head with all sorts of lies and deceit. Either that, or he is paying him a nice chunk of money to return me. This explains why Zeke has had a watchful eye on me lately. Why he’s been acting so strangely. First showing up at my house unannounced, then the flat tire. I still think he was behind the repairs on my car. But, why?
I don’t bother to ask. If he is working for Malcolm, I won’t get any information from him. Everyone on his payroll is sworn to secrecy. They all fear their master.
We continue to drive in silence, but the thoughts in my head are screaming.
Someone will find my car. Someone will search for me.
Knox will search for me.
I just have to decide if I want to be found.
An hour later and an empty stomach, the car comes to a stop. I tried to note each turn, but there was nothing familiar about this drive.
I can feel the weight shift on the backseat and the door opens. Two doors close simultaneously. After a brief moment of silence, the back door opens again, and I feel the clutch of a strong hand around my arm, dragging me out. My feet hit the pavement, but all I can see is the dark cloth in front of my eyes.
“Well done, gentlemen. I’ll take it from here.”
Malcolm.
“You mother fucker,” I spit—literally, hoping that I hit him somewhere, preferably, in his waxed oxfords, but I’d be okay with a shot to the face.
“My pleasant wife, how I’ve missed you.” His cold hands grip my face, and he plants a kiss right on my lips. I spit again; this time, I know I got him.
“Take this damn wrap off my head.” I move my tied hands up and attempt to push it off to no avail. “I want you to be able to look in my eyes, so you can see the hatred radiate from them.”
“I know that look. I won’t lie, Sweetnes
s. I’ve missed it.” His hand reaches to the back of my head, and the blindfold falls to the ground.
The grin on his face disgusts me. He’s so pleased with himself, and it sickens me.
“I see you haven’t changed much,” I lean closer, “still as ugly as the day I left.” It’s a lie, really. Malcolm is a strikingly handsome man. Every inch of him is primed to perfection, but I’ve seen his venomous heart, and his looks just don’t do it for me anymore. I am no longer under his spell.
“You’ve always been a heinous bitch. Such a little rebel. Never following the rules, always trying to break them. It’s the reason I fell in love with you.” He grabs my knotted wrists. “Come. You need to eat.”
“Love,” I laugh, “you are incapable of loving anyone but yourself.”
“That may be true, but we are one. You are a part of me. Shall I remind you of our wedding vows?”
“No. I’ll vomit profusely, if you even mention that day again.” We walk up a large cemented stairwell that leads to two wooden doors. “Where the hell are we?”
“Your temporary home. Until I can trust you again, this is where we will be staying. There is no use in trying to escape. I have guards covering every inch of this desert property.” He stops abruptly mid-step and adds, “and don’t even think for a minute that Jorge will save you. He’s done.”
My heart drops. I gasp for a breath, swallowing down the lump in my throat. “Whaa...what are you talking about?” I crack, searching for the words. “What have you done?”
“You should have known better. You know how I feel about traitors.” He continues to pull me up the steps, causing me to trip. He doesn’t even attempt to stop. He continues to walk, dragging me like a disobedient puppy.
I give him a jerk, not even caring if we both fall down this forty staired flight. “I hate you.” I grit through my teeth. I swing my arms from his hold, lifting and dropping them onto his head and swinging into the side of his face, anywhere they will land that could potentially cause him pain. I come undone. “I despise you. I should kill you right now, you sorry son of a bitch.” I drop down on my knees, as we reach the top of the steps. I buckle, my face in my tied hands. I look up and see him unaffected. A blank expression that says he doesn’t feel any remorse or displeasure in what he has done.