Satan, Line One

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Satan, Line One Page 3

by M. J. Schiller


  “I don’t understand. What can I do to help your son?” She wasn’t looking me in the eye. Something wasn’t right. She wasn’t telling me something.

  “He got himself in some trouble. But he’s a good kid. You remember?”

  “Well, yes, but….” Something dawned on me. “Wait. What was your last name when you first came to me? It wasn’t Beckwith, because you said you’d remarried.”

  Her lip quivered slightly and her eyes darted around. She looked at me finally. “Oat-Oatam.”

  Oatam? Why did that name sound familiar to me? Oatam? Oatam? Sally Oatam and Benj—Ben Oatam! The bastard who tried to rape Zoe.

  Her son was in jail for trying to rape my daughter. I bolted out of my seat. “This is inappropriate. We shouldn’t be talking.”

  “Wait. Please.”

  I came to an abrupt stop on my way to the door and turned to her. “I can’t believe…” Words wouldn’t come. I stuck my head out the door. “Jeanie. Call security.” I didn’t trust myself at that point.

  She already had the phone to her ear.

  Sally Oatam Beckwith stood. “No. Please, Mr. McCord. Hear me out.”

  “I have nothing to say to you.”

  “He didn’t mean to hurt your daughter. Things just got a little out of hand.”

  That took the cake.

  “A little out of hand?” My voice rose in volume and pitch. I stormed over to the desk and scrambled around, searching for the right file folder, cursing when it didn’t come immediately to my fingertips. When I snatched it up I was surprised to see my hands were shaking. I took what I was looking for out and dropped the rest to the floor. I shoved the photos at her. “Zoe was smart enough to take pictures after ‘things got out of hand.’”

  She turned away. “Don’t.”

  I grabbed her arm. I was losing control, and I didn’t care. “No. You’re going to see what he did to her. See this here?”

  “I don’t want to—” She was crying.

  Jeanie stuck her head in, no doubt worried I was going to either kill this woman or literally explode all over the room. “Tucker,” she warned in a quiet voice.

  I continued to push the photos in front of the woman. “Look at it! That is what happened to her face when your son sent her sprawling in the parking lot.”

  Jeanie’s mouth fell open. “Is this the mother of—”

  “Yes. This is the mother of the kid who tried to rape my daughter.”

  “No!” Sally shouted. “He wouldn’t do that. It was an accident.”

  “Oh,” I dropped the picture on top to the floor. “Are these gashes on her chest an accident?”

  The woman peeked at them out of the corner of her eye. She couldn’t help but look at what her son did. She stilled.

  “That’s what happened when he dragged Zoe across the pavement.” I dropped it and she turned away. “There’s more. Bruises, cuts…and she couldn’t take pictures of what he did to her on the inside. Do you know what it’s like to hear your child scream in terror in the middle of the night because the images of what happened to her won’t go away?”

  She whirled around, ferocious. “Yes! Yes, I know what that’s like.”

  Security arrived, and I held my hand up to signal for them to wait. I wanted to know what she meant by that.

  She took a step toward me. Her eyes flashed and spittle flew from her mouth as she spoke. “Yes. I know. I wish I didn’t, but I know. And Benji knows.” She seemed to lose some of her energy. “He knows too much.”

  I waited, but she didn’t speak. “Care to elaborate?”

  “I told you my husband wasn’t a nice man. The first one.” Sally glanced at Jeanie and the officers, unwilling witnesses to the mess her son created. She shook her head then raised it. “He used to beat and rape me every single night, unless he was too drunk to come home. And the bastard would make Benji watch. It wasn’t fun unless he was torturing both of us.”

  The room became dead silent. I exchanged a look with Jeanie. Tears glistened in her eyes as she stood with a hand covering her mouth, the other arm curled over her stomach. One of the officers behind her hung his head and shuffled his weight from foot to foot. The other caught my gaze then looked away. He didn’t want anything to do with this.

  “Then one night…” Sally felt behind her for the chair and lowered her bony body into it. “One night he tied me up.” Her eyes moved rapidly back and forth, looking at nothing. I didn’t think she’d be able to go on. “So he could rape Ben in front of me.” She brought a trembling hand to her mouth, then collapsed over the far arm of the chair, sobbing.

  Seconds passed, and the only movement in the room, the only noise, was the woman weeping. Unbidden, my mind flashed back to the freckle-faced boy who played with my grandfather’s toy. I closed my eyes. I was torn. The things they went through. But what about what he did to Zoe…?

  Jeanie took a step into the room. I opened my eyes. I could tell she wanted to comfort the woman, but was waiting for permission from me. I fell against my desk and passed a hand over my face. “Go ahead.”

  But before Jeanie could reach her, Sally Beckwith raised her head. Tears covered her face, and her hair was wild. “But that only happened once. I knew the only way to be free of him was if he was in the grave. I—”

  I stood, waving my hands. “Stop right there. As an officer of the court I advise you not to say another word.”

  She sniffled.

  Jeanie put a hand on Sally’s shoulder, then turned and gestured to me.

  “What?”

  “A Kleenex, Tucker?”

  “Oh.” I handed her one and she gave it to Mrs. Beckwith, who blew her nose. With both elbows propped on the chair’s armrests she hung her head and sighed. “My husband Darrell, Darrell Beckwith, he says I was wrong not to talk to Ben about everything that happened. But I….” She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the top of the chair. “I just couldn’t.” Her voice weakened again. “I mean.” She took another swipe at her nose with the tissue. “How do you talk about that?” She raised her head to look at me, then at Jeanie, as if we had an answer for her.

  I was betraying Zoe. I was the man who was supposed to defend her until I died, and I was feeling sympathy for the mother of the kid who had tried to rape her.

  “Darrell got Ben some help now. Someone to talk to. A psychiatrist.” She gestured randomly. “I guess Ben just doesn’t understand how wrong…or he didn’t. He does now.” She again looked at me. “He’s sorry for what he did.”

  I didn’t want to hear it. Anger began to boil again. Perhaps the security guard recognized it, because he spoke up. “Ma’am. I think it’s best if you leave now.”

  She looked at me for a second then slowly rose to her feet. She shuffled toward the door but turned around at the last minute. “I am sorry for what Ben did to your daughter, Mr. McCord. She didn’t deserve that. But so many of us get what we don’t deserve.” Without saying anything else, she left with the security people.

  I put a hand over my eyes and rubbed my temples.

  “Tucker?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you all right?”

  I don’t know.

  I raised my head and touched her arm. “I’m fine, Jeanie. I’m sorry you had to witness—”

  “No, Tucker. Don’t apologize.” She waved an arm toward the door. “That wasn’t your fault.”

  “Mmm.” I pushed away from the desk and walked around to the other side. “I didn’t handle it well.”

  She exhaled. “There was no good way to handle that…that disaster.”

  “Maybe.” I sat in my chair and swiveled it to look out the window. The security guys were helping Mrs. Beckwith into her car. One crouched beside her, where she sat in the driver’s seat, with her feet still out on the pavement. He put a hand on her knee and rose. She nodded and swung her legs into the car. He closed the door gently as she buckled her seat belt. Then she backed out, waved, and drove away.

  “Tuc
ker. Is there anything I can get you?”

  It took me a moment to find my voice. “No.” I answered automatically. She seemed to realize it and didn’t move. I twisted my head to look her in the eye and tried to give her a smile. “Nah, Jeanie, I’m good.”

  “Okay.” She backed out of the door. “But I’ll be—well, you know where I’ll be.” She left, closing the door behind her.

  I glanced at the suspended silver balls. They weren’t going to clear my muddled thoughts this time.

  Chapter 2

  Zack

  It was cold enough the ground actually crunched when I walked over to Zoe’s. She hadn’t texted me, but we had this sort of sixth sense about each other, and I knew she was still trying to digest the idea of me being seven hours away. And I knew where she went when she needed to think, and that’s where she was. In our “fort,” or “clubhouse,” or whatever we used to call it as kids. It really wasn’t either of those things because it didn’t have sides, only a green, now pretty faded, canvas roof over the platform at the top of her slide. We hardly fit these days. Zoe was still roughly the same size, but I wasn’t.

  Not by a long stretch.

  It had taken me months and months, it seemed like forever, to build my body up to where it was now.

  However, despite the platform’s smallness, that is where she perched. Her back was to me, her legs folded under her. She had on this cute little bomber jacket, that only came to her waist. It was the first time I’d seen it this season and it made me smile.

  I must have made enough noise to alert her, as her head spun in my direction, then whirled back equally as fast. She brought her hands to her face. I knew she was wiping away tears, and that stung me. My footsteps slowed a fraction. What was I going to say to her? My breath froze in the air like an empty conversation bubble, taunting me.

  When I got alongside her she attempted to speak. “Hey. Uhh…sorry I didn’t text you back earlier. I needed some time to think.” She shifted, unknotted her legs, and hung them over the ladder.

  I squeezed her calves, looking into her face. She may have wiped the tears away, but the swollen eyelids were a dead giveaway. “I know.”

  She smiled at that. “You always know me so well.” Her voice became choked at the end.

  I gestured. “Come down here. I can’t talk to you when you’re up there.”

  She half-climbed, half-slid to the ground, with her back against the ladder, facing me. When she got to my level I put my hands on either side of her and held on to the sides of the ladder, pressing into her. She smelled so good. Some perfume named after a celebrity. She told me once, but I could never remember it. All I knew was, I liked it, and it automatically connected me to that feeling of being close to her, physically, and in every other way.

  With no words to give her, I gave the only other comfort I knew. I brought my hand under that silky blond mane of hers and used it to tip her head so I could kiss her. And, to be honest, it wasn’t simply a play to console her. I needed her, too. It overwhelmed me every time I was near her, and even when we were apart. A desire so strong I was incapable of fighting it.

  The contrast between the nip in the air and the heat of her breath was a huge turn on. She had me flying with those first couple of kisses, then she did something she’d never done before. She pulled away. She didn’t need this, as much as I wanted her to. She needed words, and that’s the one thing I didn’t have.

  She looked to the side and blinked. I knew the tears were threatening again. I rubbed a thumb over her cheek, desperate to relieve that ache inside her. “Come on, Zo. It won’t be that bad.”

  “For you, maybe.”

  She meant for the words to hurt, and they did. I separated my body from hers and glanced away and back. “That’s not fair.” She didn’t respond. She was hella stubborn at times. It both drove me crazy and attracted me.

  I bent my knees to try to catch her gaze, but she steadily refused to look at me. “You know I don’t want to leave you, as much as you don’t want me to leave.” But it wasn’t true. She didn’t know. No matter what I said or did, she always had this crazy notion she didn’t deserve me, when it was I who didn’t deserve her. I grabbed on to the rope I had clung to all day. “We can make it work.”

  “It won’t work, Zack!”

  Her shout made me jerk.

  “Can’t you see?” She was crying again. She lifted her arms, palms up. Her voice came out small, defeated. “Why can’t you just see that?”

  “It’ll work,” I insisted. But was I trying to convince her everything would be all right, or myself? “It’ll take some effort on our part, but—”

  She rolled, her right side now taking the weight of her body as she leaned on the wooden rungs. It also created more distance between us. “Ugh. Get real. We’ll grow apart. You’ll be lonely. The girls will be all over you, and it will all be too tempting for you, and you’ll give in.”

  “Zoe.” I swallowed the anger rising in my throat. “I’m not like that.”

  She turned her head to stare at me, as if judging the validity of that statement. She huffed out some air and folded her arms, looking straight ahead again, closing herself off. My chest tightened. Was she going to use this as a reason to break up with me? Lock her heart away in an effort to keep it safe? It would be such a Zoe thing to do. Avoidance was her go-to form of self-preservation.

  “Hey,” I said so softly she was compelled to look at me. I put my hands on either side of her face and she turned her body toward me. “I would never do that to you. You know that. Never.”

  She closed her eyes, and several more fat tears leaked out and tracked along her face. She looked so goddamn beautiful at that moment. Black lashes against china skin. Her cheeks rosy from the cold. Other than our breathing, it was absolutely quiet. It felt like time had stopped and the whole world was waiting for her reaction. Definitely my whole world was suspended in time, frozen until she made some sort of response. I drank in her face, studying every detail, searching for any hint of what was going on in her mind.

  She opened her eyes and threw her arms around me. I exhaled, closing my eyes and squeezing her tighter. “I love you,” I murmured in her ear, my voice cracking.

  She nodded rapidly, but didn’t say anything. Perhaps couldn’t say anything. She buried her face in my chest. We stood there, each lost in our separate thoughts.

  Part of the reason I was going to college in the first place was to be able to support Zoe someday. I knew we were too young to get married, or even engaged, but I also knew, without a doubt, she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. She and I. Womb to tomb. That’s just how it was.

  “Besides,” I drew back, hoping my joke would be received well, “you have the perfect opportunity here.”

  She wrinkled her cute nose. “How’s that?”

  “For the next two years, you can guilt me into about anything. Fancy dinners, presents….”

  She shoved me, but her lips hinted at a smile. “I’m not my Aunt Sam.”

  “No,” I said seriously. “You’re not.” You’re my Zoe. I bent my head and she stretched to meet me. Soft, tender kisses. My heart went with each one.

  The back door whined open and a slice of light cut the yard. “Zoe? Time to come in. You’ve got that biology test tomorrow, and I don’t want to have to deal with Grumpelstiltskin in the morning.”

  “Five more minutes,” she insisted.

  “Okay.” He used that parenting tone that said, I don’t think this is a good idea, but I’m going to let you make your own mistakes.

  “Biology test?” I raised my eyebrows. “We don’t have a biology test tomorrow.”

  She giggled. “I told him that so he would think I was studying and not come check on me in my room.”

  “Ahh.” We separated, and I offered her my elbow. “May I walk you home?”

  Her rosy cheeks became redder. She actually blushed. So damned cute. “Why, yes. You may.” She slid her hand in the crook of
my arm and we walked the short distance from her swing set to her back door. I clutched her fingers when we separated and she stepped on the wide, concrete pad leading to a couple of stairs and the kitchen door.

  “Man. Your hands are cold.” I rubbed them and looked at the sky. It was crystal clear, the stars chiseled out of their black backdrop, the dark side of the moon outlined in their light. “We’re going to need mittens soon.” When I lowered my head, she grabbed my face and pressed her lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around her, hands on her backside, pushing the kiss further. She took a tiny hop and wrapped her legs around me. I loved that she was so light I could hold her like that. I wanted to hold her like that forever.

  Three sharp raps sounded on the window’s glass to our left. I opened my eyes and got a glimpse of Mr. McCord’s frown. I cleared my throat and she dropped her feet to the step below her. “I guess you better go in. Your dad doesn’t look happy.”

  She glanced in that direction. “I don’t know what his deal is tonight.” She tugged on the sides of my jacket, reeling me into her again. “Practice in the morning?”

  I nodded my head.

  She moaned then gave me a wicked smile. “Guess you better give me the kind of kiss that will last me a while, then.”

  I was only too happy to oblige. After she went in I shoved my hands in my pockets and set off for my house. I was happy, but it was tinged with sadness at the edges. I figured this was the first of many bittersweet days ahead.

  Dani

  I jumped, raised my head from on top of my folded arms, and ripped my eyes open. The kitchen wall. Why was I in the—

  “You okay?”

  I spun around, almost knocking the crown of my head into my husband’s gorgeous face. “What? Am I awake? I mean,” my brain was a tad slow in coming around, “is he awake?”

  He rubbed my back. “I put him in the swing on rocket speed. He should be good for a while. Why don’t I call in and—”

  I backed the chair away from the kitchen table. “No, Tucker. I’m fine. I only closed my eyes for a few seconds there.” I moved past him to the sink and ran water to wash bottles. I had to supplement the breastmilk Myles was getting with a high calorie formula because of his prematurity. At fifteen dollars a can, we hoped he wouldn’t be on this special diet for long.

 

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