“I’m not going to let you hurt her,” I say, walking away.
“I never would,” she calls after me. If I didn’t know her so well, I would believe the sincerity in her voice.
I seek out the only person I can think of to help me protect Lindsay. “Shawn!” I yell, summoning him when I spot him walking down the hall. “We need to talk.”
“Lindsay’s doing fine. She woke up last night, thank god. My parents are working tonight. You can go by and see her if you want; I won’t stop you.” He throws a book into his backpack, not looking back. He is so different from the boy I once knew. Another victim, another person who had their free-will ripped away.
“I know you won’t,” I say, touching his arm. Shawn finally pauses, looking down to meet my eyes. After what he tried to do to me outside the dance, the contact feels unnatural, but I remind myself he is a completely different person, his old self erased. At least Marcella was good for something. “We need to keep Lindsay away from Marcella.”
“What? I thought you were good with all of this.” He pulls his arm back abruptly, causing me to stumble.
“I am! Shawn, you more than anyone know how much I love Lindsay. I would do anything for her, and I care about her no matter what. But Marcella is not a good person. I’m worried about Lindsay.”
“I’m not going to stand in the way of Lindsay’s happiness, Raye, not anymore. I owe her that much.” I can see Shawn means what he says, but his view is skewed by whatever Marcella did to his mind. He is incapable of seeing her as anything less than Lindsay’s happily ever after.
I turn away from him, not wanting to waste my time on a lost cause.
After the final bell rings, I head straight for the hospital to see Lindsay. The smile she gives me when I step into her room is enough to melt away all the pain and loss I have felt the past couple of days. “Hey there,” I say, keeping my voice down.
“Hey,” she replies, her smile growing even more. “Shawn said you brought me in. Thank you.”
“Are you kidding? It takes one of us, it takes us both, remember?” I say, using the line she gave me years ago. “You’re nuts for driving to see me, though. What were you thinking?”
“I don’t actually remember. I don’t remember anything that’s happened for the last week or so. That’s kind of crazy, right?” Her eyes drift to a faraway place, like she wants to remember, but isn’t capable. I know the feeling.
“Has Marcella been in to see you?”
“She was in like an hour ago! She brought me those.” She gestures to a bouquet of red roses sitting on her window sill. Her eyes glass over as my heart sinks.
“Linds, I don’t trust her.” I don’t bother to beat around the bush. She will either listen or she won’t.
“Raye, I love her.” Lindsay says it as though it will be enough to make me love her, too. Maybe it should be. Maybe it would be, if I didn’t know what I do and had not seen what I have. In a perfect world, I would love the person Lindsay loves because Lindsay loving her would make her wonderful.
This world is far from perfect, and I hate it for making me stand against my best friend.
“I know you do, but you don’t see her the way I do.”
“You think you know her better than I do?” Her voice holds an edge of anger I’m not used to. “You’ve never given her a chance, even though I begged you to. You’ve hated her since the moment you met her. You’re jealous you’re not the only person in my life anymore. Why can’t you be happy for me? My parents, I understand–but you? You’re supposed to support me no matter what. Those were your words, Raye.”
“Lindsay…”
“You know what? Go. I’m tired.” She turns her face away from me and retreats further under the covers. I know better than to push her. Lindsay needs time; time to see Marcella for who she is and to remember who has always been here for her.
It doesn’t matter that I’m breaking. Lindsay is more important; I owe her. Putting her first isn’t even a decision, it is life.
CHAPTER 30
April comes in like a lion, making up for the mild March we were blessed with. A three-day snow storm leaves me without classes for nearly a week, a small gift in itself. I spend the time alone researching universities all over the world. I hear Australia is lovely, if you can cope with the gargantuan spiders.
Lindsay’s silence continues day after day. After a week of radio silence, I finally give up trying. The distance between us is tangible as we keep the biggest parts of ourselves from each other. Regardless, I hold onto the hope things will improve if I give them time.
I miss her more than words can describe.
Most of my time is spent either at school or at the clinic. Even though I’m still working side-by-side with Darien masquerading around as Mitch, it has become a safe space where I can forget myself. I have become incredibly good at triaging patients based on needs, and by the time mid-April hits I’m starting to train in pharmacology in case there is ever an emergency. Dr. Wright has made it her personal mission to ensure I become the world’s best doctor one day. It’s nice to know one part of my life is not in shambles.
Cheer practice was set to start back up again at the start of April, but the unexpected snow put a temporary halt on those plans. I’m both thankful I won’t need to be near Marcella, and sad I won’t have an excuse to be near Lindsay. I went from having both her and T.K., to having no one at all. I hadn’t realized what loneliness truly was until I was stripped of everything I had.
T.K. does his best to respect my wishes, keeping his distance from me at lunch and between classes, but that doesn’t stop the looks he sometimes gives me, as though he is waiting for me to crack and forgive him. He doesn’t seem to understand the implications of what he did, which furthers my resolve to stay away from him. I blame myself for what happened. He isn’t human. I knew that, and yet I still gave myself over to him, allowed myself to be vulnerable when I knew so, so much better.
I’m beginning to lose my mind.
Lindsay has long since stopped taking my calls, and aside from a glimpse in the hallway two days ago, I haven’t seen her in over a week. I have watched her slip away from me slowly over the last month, bit by bit. The time for drastic measures is fast approaching.
It is time to go to Marcella.
Now that my mind is safe from her and the others, I have an advantage: knowledge. Maybe no one will believe me, but once the rumours are put out there, it won’t take long before things click into place. Someone will see the truth. It has been their fear all along.
The only thing that has held me back is T.K. I still hate him. Nothing can change what he is, what he has done, and what he has dragged me in to. But do I want him hurt?
The truth is, I don’t know. The uncertainty held me back all month as I watched Lindsay slip further and further away from me. That’s what does it in the end–the idea that I will lose Lindsay for good. It is enough to make me risk anyone, even T.K.
When I walk into my second period, Marcella’s chair is empty. In third period, so is Darien’s. I skip fourth period all together, hoping to spot T.K.’s car in the parking lot and ambush him, but it isn’t in its usual spot.
“Did Lindsay Cruz call in sick today?” I ask the clerk in the main office. She knows me well enough–and my relationship with Lindsay–that I figure she will tell me, even though she probably isn’t allowed.
“Her brother popped in earlier to say she would be absent. I hope she’s alright, that poor girl has been sick enough for a lifetime.”
I run from the office without responding, my heart rate beginning to skyrocket. They are all absent, completely gone without telling anyone.
I need to see Lindsay.
It takes fifteen agonizing minutes to drive to her house. I expect her to be either alone or with Marcella–I pray she really does have the ‘flu’ again; a simple explanation, albeit a horrible one.
I am not expecting Shawn to answer the door. “Why aren’t you in class?” I ask him, caught o
ff guard by his presence.
“I have a spare fourth period. Why aren’t you in class? Is everything okay?” He looks over my shoulder, searching.
“Is Lindsay home? I need to see her.” I must look like a nervous wreck, because Shawn’s face drops into an expression of concern I still find foreign. His change in attitude is the best and only good thing Marcella and her manipulation has accomplished. Shawn is a completely different person. The knowledge both pleases and terrifies me. If Marcella can change him, what can she do to Lindsay?
“Wait, she’s not with you?” he says, continuing to search over my shoulder. “When Marcella showed up last night looking for her, I figured she finally had enough and went to stay with you. I’ve been covering for her! When did you last see her?”
My heart drops to the ground, splattering on the concrete beneath my feet. “Shawn, I haven’t seen her in days. We’re not speaking.”
This is the moment Shawn tells me he is lying. Lindsay is upstairs avoiding me as she has been for the last month. “If she’s not with you, where the hell is she?” he demands. I know he is seeing what I’m seeing: Lindsay unconscious in a hospital bed, unable to speak or move, so overcome with sickness she is hardly alive.
Shawn’s fear is all I need.
I turn and run to my Jeep, spinning out of the driveway before I even close the door. Something is wrong. Something has been wrong for a while, but I let it slide, giving Lindsay the time she had once given me. I was trying to do the right thing. She didn’t need to be pushed or prodded; she needed to adjust to her new life, one I may or may not have been able to fit into. It was her right to decide, as it had once been mine.
But she was supposed to choose me.
I trusted Lindsay’s judgment.
I gave her space, time to see who Marcella was on her own. Now she is gone, probably so delirious from having her mind toyed with, she is unable to walk straight. I tossed her to the wolves, defenceless and unaware of the reality of her own situation.
If anything happens to Lindsay, it is my fault; my fault for not stepping in when I had the chance; my fault for not pushing harder; my fault for not prying her away from Marcella sooner. I knew Marcella was playing with Lindsay’s mind; all the sick days and the changes in personality, the fogginess in her eyes. It happened right in front of me, and I hadn’t done a damn thing to stop it.
Some friend I am.
My mind is nothing but hazy thoughts as I pull my Jeep up to the Knight’s residence.
Since my last visit, the dense hedges have become neglected, almost entirely covering the front door. I almost forget to turn off the ignition as I jump out of the front seat and storm up the steps. I do not bother to knock.
“Lindsay!” I call, stepping into the entrance. Muffled sounds come from down the hall, guiding me forward. I make my way toward the main living room, not stopping as the floorboards shift under my weight. Chane, Darien, Marcella, Markus, and T.K. are all gathered in the room, some standing and some sitting. There is no sign of Lindsay.
“Where the hell is she?” I shout, storming up to Marcella. She is curled in on herself, knees up to her chin on the far corner of the couch. I have never seen her look so vulnerable. It makes me want to crush her. I want her to break.
T.K. tries to reach for me, his fingers tangling in mine for a brief moment before I rip them away. “Raye…” he cautions, stepping as close to me as I will let him.
“Where is she?” I take a step toward Marcella. Whatever is happening, it is her fault. It is all because of her. Lindsay was ruined the moment Marcella stepped into her life. First her parents, then me–Marcella won’t stop until Lindsay is so torn apart that nothing remains.
Marcella looks up at me, her eyes unfocused. “I don’t know,” she murmurs. “She’s gone.”
I snap, lunging forward, my fingers tangling in her golden hair. Marcella doesn’t fight back. She sits there, watching the wall as I claw at her face and smash her head backward into the chair. I hate knowing the gashes will be gone by morning.
T.K. wraps his arms around my body, pulling me off his sister and grounding me to the floor. “Raye, stop. We don’t know where she is. We didn’t do this–Marcella didn’t do this.”
Watching him defend her confirms every negative feeling I have felt for him over the past month. He was never mine. He was always Other. A killer. A monster. I begin clawing at him, struggling in his grasp until finally I’m pinned to the wall, my face twisted in rage.
“Raye, she’s gone. Marcella went to see her yesterday and she wasn’t there. No trace, no nothing. You aren’t helping.” The voice belongs to Chane. She is standing to T.K.’s left, trying to reason with me as I attack her family.
“If you calm down, we can talk about this,” Markus says, putting his hand on Marcella’s shoulder.
Monsters.
They are all monsters. Emotionless killers. Maybe they didn’t take Lindsay, but they are the reason she is gone. I feel it in every part of my soul.
I knee T.K. in the groin.
I run.
As I climb into my Jeep, Marcella’s words ring in my ears.
She’s gone.
Lindsay is gone.
I’m alone, and she is gone.
Gone.
CHAPTER 31
Hell has come to Earth, trapping me inside.
My mind, my body; neither are places I want to be.
The week following Lindsay’s disappearance is a nightmare. The police find nothing–not a single trace. Mr. and Mrs. Cruz are in denial that anything is amiss at all. They are adamant Lindsay ran away, too ashamed of her choices to face the world. After a few days of searching, the investigation is called off.
Lindsay is gone, and no one even cares.
I don’t leave my room. I don’t touch the homework I’m brought. I threaten to light the house on fire if my mom so much as looks at me.
Eight days later, I pull myself out bed and go to the clinic. I don’t have a shift and Dr. Wright isn’t expecting me, but I’m desperate. Shawn won’t take my calls anymore. I don’t have any other numbers in my phone.
The clinic is nearly empty as I park my Jeep and wander into the backroom. I know exactly what I want and where to find it. I’m in and out and back at home in the confines of my room in less than thirty minutes. Mom doesn’t even notice. The only one who seems to notice anything is wrong is Oswald, who is desperately clawing at my door.
Crawling into the corner between my small desk and bookcase, I wrap a rubber band around my forearm twice, making my skin plump up from the pressure.
I have never taken something so strong before, but strong is what I want. I have only ever seen them give morphine to the sickest, most tortured patients. I’ve watched how their faces slacken as they slip into beautiful oblivion, their lives mere shadows around them.
The shadows would be too much, so I fill the syringe with a little extra. I watch as the needle pierces the crook in my elbow, forcing the skin to pucker. I exhale as the liquid merges with my system and toss the syringe on the floor along with the rubber band.
My head smacks against the wall in a blissful crash.
Mewing sounds outside my door as I let myself fade away.
Even in hell there are moments of peace.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
S.D. Harrison was born and raised in Ottawa, Ontario. She graduated magna cum laude with an Honours BA in Communication from the University of Ottawa in 2014. Since then she has worked in the medical field, doing freelance writing and editing on the side. When she’s not reading or writing, she likes to bake cookies, play with her two adorable cats, and organize things that probably don’t need to be organized.
Connect with S.D. Harrison:
Website: https://sdharrisonbooks.wordpress.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/s_d_harrison
E-mail: [email protected]
BONDED is also available in paperback.
/> S.D. Harrison, BONDED
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