by Bella Jewel
“Where are you goin’?”
Cohen’s voice comes from behind me and I jump, spinning around to see him walking after me, sunglasses covering his eyes so I can’t see his expression.
“I’m going for a walk, check things out, and then I’m going to the bar.”
“Good, I’m coming with you.”
“You can’t be serious?” I snap, crossing my arms.
“You could be meetin’ up with someone, not riskin’ it. Alarick told me to watch you, so I’m goin’ to be doin’ just that.”
I glare at him. “You don’t want anything to do with me, we both know that, so I’m not sure why you’re allowing Alarick to give you orders like that.”
“Because I don’t trust you. It’s really that simple. I’m comin’ with you.”
Fine, if he wants to come with me, I’m going to make him walk this town three fucking times. I can make it miserable for him, no doubt about it. And miserable, it will be.
I turn and start walking again, nearing the town center. It’s green and bustling, with cars and people everywhere. Cafés line the main street and there are a few parks scattered around. I stop into a café, grab myself a muffin and a coffee, and then I take a walk around. Cohen follows me silently. No doubt to people watching, it looks weirdly suspicious.
I’m strolling through a park when a man jogs up to me. He’s only young, maybe thirty, and he’s quite handsome. He slows down when he reaches me and asks in a puffed voice, “Ma’am, are you okay?”
I glance at him, confused. “Sure, why do you ask?”
“That man is following you, and I’ve seen him doing so for quite some time. I’ve been jogging through town.”
I look behind me to see Cohen about ten yards behind me, his eyes on the man I’m speaking to.
“Actually, you know, I am a bit concerned. He has been scaring me,” I say to the man, glancing at Cohen again.
“Come with me, I’ll give you a ride.”
I flash a smile in Cohen’s direction as the jogger takes my arm and walks close to me. Angrily, Cohen strides up and growls, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I don’t want any trouble, I’m just taking her home. She’s concerned that you’ve been following her,” the jogger says, stepping in front of me a little so Cohen has no access to me.
What a gentleman.
“She’s with me,” Cohen growls. “Step the fuck back or I’ll make you.”
“I can’t do that, she’s concerned for her safety, and I take that seriously. Please step back or I’ll call the police.”
“You’ll call fuckin’ no one, because she’s with me. I’m escortin’ her because she’s in danger. You want to be responsible if somethin’ happens to her?”
The jogger glances at me, and I shake my head. “He’s making it up, I don’t know him.”
My voice is soft and scared and the look Cohen gives me could blow me apart right here. The man pulls out his phone and then slowly takes my hand and starts leading me away. “If you follow us, I’ll call the police.”
Cohen lets us go, but when I look back at him to flash him another killer smile, he’s giving me a look that screams he’ll have bloody revenge for me when I return.
When we’re out of sight, the man turns to me and says, “Would you like me to circle back around to my car and give you a ride, or are you okay now?”
“I’m okay, I’ll go over the road to a café. Thank you for all your help, I really appreciate it.”
I turn and jog across the street toward a large bar that’s bustling with people.
I’m causing chaos, I know it.
If only I cared.
I PLACE MY EMPTY GLASS down and wave at the bartender to fill it once more. I’m on my fifth or sixth beer. I don’t know, I stopped counting once I started feeling light-headed and happy. I’ve been in this great little bar for easily two hours and am enjoying every second of it. The atmosphere is fantastic, and the bartender is chatty and friendly, telling me about his life, how long he’s lived here and other great stories.
He puts a fresh beer down, and I give him an appreciative smile. “Thank you, keep them coming.”
“Are you meeting friends?” he asks me, wiping down the counter with a damp cloth.
“No, I’m not planning on it. I’m only here for the night, just enjoying the local attractions.”
He laughs. “Well, make sure you don’t go wandering off by yourself when it gets dark.”
“Yes, boss.”
He winks at me and goes to serve someone else. The stool beside me slides out, and I glance to my left to see Briella sitting down beside me, her face tight with anger. Great, just what I need right now, another fight with someone.
“Briella,” I say, taking a sip of the beer.
“Why did you ditch Cohen?”
She can’t be serious? What are we, third graders?
“Because I’m a grown ass woman and I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Well, what we’re doing is dangerous and he’s only looking out for the club. Once, you would have understood that.”
I’m frustrated. I know I’m not treating her right, but hell, she isn’t treating me right either. My god, she’s being so damned hurtful. I look to her and my expression shows all the rage I’m feeling in my chest. Our eyes meet and, in a hiss, I say, “What is your problem? All you do is continually tell me who I used to be. What about who you used to be, Briella? What about the girl who was supposed to be my friend, that let me disappear without ever once fucking looking for me?”
She looks like I’ve slapped her. She reels backward and her mouth drops open, her features filling with shock. “What?” she whispers.
“You heard me. I was in the hands of a fucking monster, and not one of you, not fucking one of you, bothered to look. You all assumed I left and never wanted to be found again. You were my best fucking friend, you were there that day, you should have known that I’d never fucking run away never to make contact again.”
She’s shaking her head now.
Has she not honestly thought of this before?
Considered how it felt for me?
“Aviana ...”
“You want to throw in the kind of person I am now, have a good hard look at your fucking self. Do you know what that man did to me? He raped me. He hurt me. He abused me. He kept me as his own personal fucking slave. I have seen the kind of hell you couldn’t even begin to imagine. Don’t you dare come in here telling me I’m different, I have a fucking right to be different.”
I’m screaming now, my voice high and almost frightened in its pitch. I shove the barstool back, not looking at any of the people who are currently staring at me. Tears, tears I’ve fought so damned hard to keep away, rise to the surface. This time, I don’t know if I can keep them in, this time, I don’t think I can be strong.
I’m so tired of being strong.
Sometimes, I just want to be weak, pathetic.
That is so much easier.
I turn and rush out of the bar, my head spinning from the alcohol. I don’t know where I’m going, I don’t bother to stop and look. It’s dark, and I run until I can’t run anymore. I find a park nestled amongst thick bushes. I kick my shoes off and walk into the soft sand, panting, tears burning so hard I don’t think I can hold them back a second longer. One tear rolls down my cheek, followed by another, and I don’t make it to the swing.
I fall into the sand, and then I sob.
A loud, pained sob.
I haven’t cried for so long, I have forgotten what it feels like.
It hurts.
I hate it.
But I can’t stop it.
I hang my head and cry for everything that I’ve endured, everything that I’ve lost and everything that I’ve become.
They’re right, I am a monster.
I’m right, they’re monsters.
We’re all bloody monsters.
Yet, there is so much love to be had.
S
o much fucking love.
Love I don’t know if I can ever accept, even though the biggest parts of me wish I would take it.
I don’t know how long I sit on that sand, alone in the darkness, but the sound of footsteps has me lifting my head and looking behind me to see Cohen walking toward me. I have no idea how he found me, but I do know I don’t want him to see me like this, so vulnerable, so broken, so pathetic.
“I thought I’d find you here,” he says, stopping in front of me and staring down at me, sitting in the sand, drunk.
“How?” I croak, my voice hoarse.
“You love playgrounds. I remember that much.”
He’s right.
I do love playgrounds.
When I was younger, and far bubblier, I used to think that people were way too serious and that they had forgotten how to have the innocence and fun of a child. I never wanted to lose that, so I would find a playground anytime I could, and I’d swing on the swings and go down the slippery slides. Once you lose the child inside, you lose so much of yourself.
“Come on, let’s get you back to the motel.”
“Don’t be nice to me, Cohen. Don’t be nice to me because you can see how fucking pathetic and broken I am right now. Don’t feel pity for me, I don’t want any of that from you. It’s your fault I’m this way.”
My words come out like acid, spitting and strong. Cohen doesn’t say anything, but he does lean down and reach out for my hand. He scoops it up with his and slowly pulls me to my feet. He doesn’t feed me pity, or kind words, he just brings me to my feet and then we start walking toward his truck.
When we reach it, he opens the door and I climb in.
The drive back to the motel is silent, but silence doesn’t scare me. I find comfort in its depths. I bring my knees up to my chest and curl my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees. My tears are long dried up, but my heart still has that same ache I can’t seem to chase away.
Everything hurts.
Sometimes, I want it all just to go away.
Other times, I relish in it.
Right now, deep down, if I were to admit the truth to myself, I wish someone would take it away for me. Just once. Just this time.
“Briella told me what you said to her tonight.”
Cohen’s voice fills the darkness of the car, and it’s softer than I’ve heard him use since I’ve been back. It’s gravelly, and always deep, but it’s missing that edge he usually uses when he talks to me.
“And?” I whisper, my voice too tired to come out.
“And I didn’t know. I didn’t know that happened to you. I know it doesn’t matter to you now, Aviana, but I never fuckin’ wanted that for you. I thought you would be safe. I thought I was doin’ the right thing.”
Of course he thought that.
Don’t we all think we’re doing right by others, until we find out we weren’t?
“You were my best friend, I trusted you.”
My voice cracks and more tears roll down my cheeks.
I turn my face away.
I don’t want to say anything more.
It won’t help.
It’ll only make things worse.
Cohen doesn’t say anything else either. Instead, he pulls up at the motel and turns off the truck.
I get out of it and don’t look back.
I can’t.
If I do, I’m scared he’ll see just how much I needed him in that moment.
10
NOW – AVIANA
My bed dips and my entire body goes stiff as I feel someone climbing underneath the covers with me. The warmth of another human form presses against me, and then small arms come around me and rest over my stomach. I know who it is the moment I catch her smell—I know because we used to lie like this all the time and talk for hours about boys and dreams.
Briella.
I clench my eyes shut. It’s dark, what time I don’t know.
I don’t even know why she’s here.
My automatic reaction is to kick her off, to scream at her to get out, but I know that reaction isn’t the right one.
I know it, even though that’s what my body is telling me to do.
“I let you down,” she whispers into the darkness. “You were right. I was your best friend and I didn’t come looking for you. I should have known you’d never just disappear. I should have turned the world upside down looking for you, Aviana, and for not doing that, I’ll be forever sorry.”
I can’t stop them.
Those horrible tears.
They burst forth, and I can’t control them.
They soak my face and my pillow.
They make my whole body shake.
Briella just hangs onto me—she just holds the pieces together as I cry. I cry so hard a loud sob fills the silent room.
Merleigh wakes and calls out into the darkness.
Then a moment later the lamp flicks on. She looks over to me, and I see her expression change through my blurred vision as she takes in the pathetic sight of me sobbing. She stands without a word and walks over to the bed, then she pulls the covers back and climbs in, too. She lies face to face with me, and her hand goes over Briella’s. Then they just hang onto me.
For a minute, god, for a blissful minute, I want this to be all there is to my life. Just these two women holding me together, not having to worry about a single other thing in this world but the fact that they’ve got my back, and they’re not going to let anything bad happen to me.
I want it to be how it goes.
God, I want it so bad.
But my soul is bitter, and confused, and so scarily broken.
I shake my head through my tears and push out of their grips, frantically sliding my body out of the bed so I don’t have to feel the intense emotions I’m feeling right now. I get to my feet, my hands shaking, and I look at the two women who slowly sit up and stare at me. I still have tears running down my face. My mind is a swimming mess that I can’t make sense of.
“It’s okay, Avi,” Briella says carefully, her hair messed up from sleep, her eyes tired. “We want to help you. We’re here to help you.”
I can’t breathe.
No.
“I don’t need help,” I say, my voice scratchy.
“You do, though. You do, and it’s okay to let us be the people who give that to you. We’re your family, your friends, we want to get you through this. We love you.”
Those words hit me like a slap to the face and I turn, running from the room, desperate to make these feelings stop. I don’t want to second guess myself. I don’t want to hope that maybe she’s right and they’re the answer to all my problems. I don’t want to believe their love might actually be what fixes me. I don’t want to trust them again, only to have my world ripped out from beneath me.
As I run, the memories of my life before this swim in my mind. Memories I can’t escape from no matter how hard I try. Memories that remind me why I am the way I am. Memories that put me back into the cold, bitter place I came here in.
“Please, stop,” I plead, sitting in the corner, hands in front of my face.
That won’t stop him, but it’s worth a shot.
It’s the only thing I have to protect myself right now, my hands.
Everything else is bruised and battered.
He walks toward me, expressionless. His body is large, and muscled, and he’s strong. So much stronger than me. He rarely speaks, but when he does his words are poison. They’re terrifying spits that burn my very soul. Sometimes, I wish he would speak so I know who he is, and why he has me, and how I got here.
I don’t know why I’m here, except to know that Cohen did it.
Cohen.
My best friend.
The man I was falling in love with.
This is his fault.
The man kneels down and curls his hands around my wrists, pulling them down so I can no longer put them up in front of me. Like they were ever going to stop him anyway.
“Plea
se,” I plead again. “I want to go home.”
“This is your home now.”
His voice is rough and gravelly.
He pins my arms to my side and then jerks them around to my back where he pulls a set of handcuffs from his coat pocket and snaps them together. I don’t squirm, or fight, he made sure I knew what would happen to me if I did any of those things. He showed me. The cuts, bruises, and injuries on my body show me what happens if I do that.
When my hands are cuffed, he reaches forward, his fingers slowly going down to my buttons where he begins to undo them, exposing me to him. I clench my eyes shut, my whole body trembling, tears running down my cheeks. Please, someone, make this stop. I’ll do anything, anything, but just make it stop.
His hand curls around my breast, and there he squeezes.
“No,” I cry out. “No, please. Please don’t.”
“Aviana!”
The harsh voice snaps me from the horrid memory that was taking over my body. I forgot I was running, crying, going where? I don’t know. I stop, panting, and turn to see Cohen walking toward me wearing only a pair of pajama shorts. His muscled, ripped body shines underneath the streetlights, making him look like he’s here to rescue me and make all my problems just disappear with one touch.
My heart twists with the kind of agony I simply can’t process right now.
It’s a hurt, a hurt that runs so deep I don’t know how to live without it. I don’t know how to make it stop; I don’t know how to rid my soul of it so I can live freely. I don’t know how to do anything anymore.
I don’t even know who I am.
Right now, though, seeing Cohen walk toward me ... I want him. I want him to wrap his arms around me, to tell me it’s okay, to make love to me until I can’t feel anything anymore. The intensity of that want is all consuming and my knees tremble with the sudden onset of it.
I remember a time when he made it better.
When he saved me from my family.