by Kyle Rutkin
That’s when she handed the book to me. “You should have this,” she said. “I’ve read it twice already.”
I tried to refuse but she was adamant. As she got up to walk away, something told me to ask for her name. She turned around and said, “Sara.” Then she gave me a smile. “Or, as this book refers to me, Alice.”
The Blog of Kaleb Reed
(Continued)
The address Kelly gave me was forty minutes east. It was a rest stop along the highway, a diner with a fluorescent sign and an empty dirt parking lot. The sound of the nearby highway drowned out the chirping crickets. Dim stars flickered underneath the dome of the city smog. I knew why she chose this place. In her imagination, it was the perfect reproduction of a scene from her favorite book—Alice and AJ’s little heaven. The best Hollywood could do. But it was nothing like the real one. The sign on this diner was refurbished. The real one was faded, chipped, weathered from years of sun and neglect. This was for passing truckers, people outside the city. Mine was for locals within. Drifters who spent months at the motel next door.
But this wasn’t my story anymore.
I grabbed the gun from the glove box, stuffed it into my coat. The metal pounded against my pumping heart. This was the role I was meant for. My tense steps pounded on the gravel.
The bell chimed.
She was alone.
The same way I found Sara.
As I once described it.
Kelly looked fatigued, yet calm. She was dressed in a black peacoat and red jeans. Her hair was wet, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. I felt nostalgic. I knew it was temporary. When she bestowed her gifts, and she expected something in return. I crawled into the booth. The aftermath of a breakdown showed in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She gave me a faint smile. “I have to be fast.”
I grabbed her hand. “What do I do now?”
She took a deep breath as our fingers interlaced. She squeezed my palm, restoring our connection. Latching onto my soul. What we had was real. Bonded by our darkness. Our unworthiness, our brokenness, this dark ball of energy cut off from its creator. It was the force that guided our actions. This thing that made us do shit that hurt us. And no matter how hard we searched, how much shit we consumed, we would never cover up the shame. We would never fill these giant holes. It was a fool’s errand. We would always be seeking. Always be addicts. Until we lifted the veil. Until we discovered a veil to lift.
“I’m ready, Kelly.”
She smiled. “You know why I liked your book so much? Because AJ really loved Alice.”
I nodded.
“People have always taken from me. They’ve always loved themselves more than me.” Her voice trembled. “I think parents are supposed to teach their kids about love, and I don’t think I ever learned.”
I nodded again.
“Kelly, what’s going on? I thought—”
She held up her scarred arm. “I was free, Kaleb. I was free.” Her eyes met mine.
I reached over and pushed strands of blonde hair from her eyes.
“My heart just kept cracking that night, and it finally opened,” she said, as I glided my thumb across her soft hands. “And I was free. I didn’t need the world to love me anymore. I was enough.” She paused and tried to compose herself. “But it came back.”
“What?”
“The monster, Kaleb.”
“Kelly, what happened?”
“Promise me that you’ll finish the book.”
She gave me a half-hearted but genuine smile. “I wasn’t always truthful with you, but I want you to know that I do care.”
She looked at me with those crystal-blue eyes. I never had a countermove. Never had a chance. From the very first moment I saw her on the screen. She was supposed to find my book. She was supposed to find me. Transform me. I was supposed to protect her.
She took a deep breath. Her hands slipped from mine. Our connection was lost. I looked up, confused. She had practiced this. Her eyes hardened. She got up from the booth. Her gaze moved to the door.
“Please finish the story.”
She pulled out a gift-wrapped package from her coat and dropped it on the table. “This is for you.”
Hands in her pockets, she walked away.
“Kelly!” I yelled. “Where are you going?”
Her hand lingered on the door. “I’ll be back. I promise.”
I returned to my apartment. I sunk into my couch, staring at the gift. I held it in my hands, flipped it around. Undid the twine and recycled paper. It was a copy of Pay Me, Alice. There was a note on it. I’ve missed you.
I browsed through the book. A photo fell out. It was the picture of Kelly and I in Philadelphia. I liked that she printed it. It meant something to her. I turned the book over. Why would she give me a copy of my novel? It was dirty and worn, creases on the matte cover. There were rips. Scuffs on the spine. This wasn’t the copy sitting on her nightstand. This one had been crammed into bags and backpacks. Read hundreds of times. I started flipping through. There was a highlighted passage at the end of the book.
What would he do for the girl he loved? Anything. Everything. Who could he become? How far could he go? There was only one way to find out.
I searched through the pages for something else, but that was it. Then flipped to the end of the book. Then I saw it. Handwritten words: Go find your sunrise.
This was Kelly’s penmanship.
I leaned back on the couch.
But how?
The truth struck me.
Why did I ignore the signs?
It was my first night in New York. The first time I met Lizzy Michaels. Her TV show had been canceled and Kelly threw a party in her hotel suite to cheer her up. Her eyes lit up the second Lizzy arrived. That affection never left her face. Kelly clung to Lizzy, her arm tucked into hers, never leaving her side. I was jealous at first. I wanted time with her. I had been waiting all night, but her attention was solely on Lizzy. My curiosity grew as I watched the two interact.
She introduced us.
“This is the writer I was talking about.”
Lizzy forced a smile. She was cute, sandy blonde hair, perfect TV face. She looked innocent and candid, the new teen star. No tattoos or scars. A boy was standing next to her. Kelly leaned over to me and whispered, “I think she likes him.”
I nodded and pointed to Lizzy.
“And you like her.”
She beamed. “Yes, I do. She’s like my sister.”
I saw Kelly whisper in Lizzy’s ear. I caught the words leaving her lips.
“Play it cool.”
Kelly put her arm around Lizzy, and they skipped away, laughing.
Later, I saw Lizzy by herself. She looked agitated. She didn’t want to be here. She was texting in the small kitchenette. When I approached her, she looked uncomfortable, offended. “So you two have a special relationship, huh?”
Lizzy stared into my eyes. It almost scared me.
“Don’t let anything happen to her, Kaleb.”
It was nearing 4:00 a.m. and Kelly and I were drunk on the couch. Everyone else was asleep or gone. We were passing a bottle back and forth and staring as Lizzy danced with the boy she liked. I was drunk and wanted to go to the bedroom with Kelly. My head was numb. The vodka was going down like water.
“Who is she to you?” I asked through slurred speech.
“I love her, Kaleb.” Kelly paused, and the bottle lowered. “I would do anything for her.”
I looked back and forth between the two girls. The truth struck. “You said you had a third gift from God on the night you made that scar…an angel.”
A grand smile flooded her face. “Yes, Kaleb. An angel found me that night. An angel dragged me to the car and took me to the hospital,” Kelly said, her voice dreamy. “An angel was with me that night. An angel saved my life. And I will never let anything bad happen to her.”
Then her eyes turned cold.
“Lizzy has
always been my something bigger.”
Jez: Imagine if your best friend betrayed you? How would you feel?
The Real Kelly Trozzo
TheInsideJuice.com Interview 2019
INSIDEJUICE: Why are you smiling?
TROZZO: I’m thinking about the day I posted about Kaleb’s book. How easy it was getting his attention. I recorded numerous videos and posts, one for every social network I had. I knew he would receive a flood of notifications and messages from my fans. He had no idea what I had in store for him. I took him out of his comfort zone. I pushed him as an artist. He evolved and was better for it, and in the end, he fell in love with me. But he will never know his place in my something bigger until the very end. Until it’s too late for him to refuse.
The Real Alice
New Mexico, 2015
Eighty-nine days sober. The sun was setting on the construction site. The structural beams of the house were intact, blocking my view of the cliff. But I knew he was there, just around the corner, smoking his cigarette. He would never see it coming. The gun was in my hand. I held the power. I reached for the car door.
No. Stop. I can’t. This couldn’t be the only way. I needed to breathe. I needed to think. My hands were shaking uncontrollably. I could go back to Sara. I would find another way. There must be another way. I put my hand on the steering wheel.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I could feel Bob’s cold breath.
“Go away. I’m not strong enough.”
“I’m not going to let you off that easy, Kaleb.”
“I’m not a killer,” I protested.
“You coward. Think about her bruises,” he seethed. “Think about her face. You’re going to let him get away with that? You remember your mom at that beach house, don’t you? Her swollen face, pretending to smile? Do you remember your dad, sitting on the porch doing his stupid crossword puzzles? You didn’t do shit, did you? Just like now. Imagine his fist, his knuckles, striking Sara’s face. Again and again. “
“Stop it.”
“Again and again.”
“Stop,” I whispered.
“And the bullies will always win.”
I was rocking back and forth. Bob’s hand fell on top of mine, and I felt my heart go cold.
“If it weren’t for the bullies getting you expelled, you would have driven your brother to school that day. Instead, he had to carpool, and that drunk driver killed him. Your father was right to blame you. But you had a chance to make it right, and you let him off. The killer is still out there. And your father. Don’t get me started. If you had stood up to him, maybe your mom wouldn’t have endured so much pain. But they all got away with it. Now is your chance to redeem them all. To do what we set out to do. To finally be a man. To be the protector you’ve been afraid to become. This is your destiny. Become the person you were meant to be.”
“I can’t.”
“Do you love her?”
“Yes.”
“Then fucking prove it!”
“I can’t.”
“Do it, or else.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else face me, you fucking coward. I dare you.”
“Stop.”
“Turn and face me like a man,” Bob screamed.
“I can’t!” I cried. “I can’t.”
“Then you have no choice.
“Will you leave me alone?” I mumbled.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
The Blog of Kaleb Reed
July 25, 2019
I rip open the motel blinds. The sirens howl in the distance. They are music to my ears. They are coming. I must be quick about this. I crack open the last bottle of vodka. Pour it over my book in the trash can. I watch the flames cascade over the skull and cross bones, melting the matte finish. The pages shrivel under the roaring flames.
I drop the silver sparrow in the toilet and watch it spin around and around until it disappears. The last keepsake is gone. There is nothing left to cling to. Nothing to tether me to this world. Nothing left to fight for. It’s time to say goodbye. I sit down with the gun clutched in my hand. I have a new purpose now. The sirens are getting louder, closer. I stare at the empty chair across from me, waiting for his arrival.
The Real Kelly Trozzo
TheInsideJuice.com Interview 2019
INSIDEJUICE: When you say something bigger, are you talking about your purpose, your legacy?
TROZZO: I guess you can say that.
INSIDEJUICE: What will be your legacy?
TROZZO: I don’t know yet. We’ll have to wait and see. But I’ll tell you this. My greatest fear is my star dying before it has a chance to shine. My entire life, people have tried to dim my light. Before I go, I want my star to gleam so bright that it has no other option than to burn out in one last flash of brilliance. And if that happens, death will truly be my happily ever after.
Jez: If anyone knows what happened to Kelly it’s Lizzy. She was in the tower with her.
Lizzy: I’ve had enough. I want to leave. Please. I want to leave.
The Blog of Kaleb Reed
“The Night Of”
“AJ was your character. Your sacrifice. That was our work.” Bob seethed in the passenger seat. Rain poured from the sky. I was swerving in and out of lanes, windshield wipers on high. Twenty minutes. Ten minutes. Five miles until Kelly’s exit.
“I know.”
“Drive faster.”
Pedal to the metal.
“This is your job.”
“Faster.”
I pulled into Kelly’s driveway. Two cars were parked there: a Bentley, freshly waxed with chrome wheels, and the two-door pickup truck. I approached the entrance. Dropped the large brass handle on the thick oak door…one knock, two knocks. I was holding Kelly’s copy of my book in one hand, my gun in the other.
“Are you prepared?”
I am.
“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” yelled Bob.
The door was unlocked. I pushed it open.
“Kelly!”
The sound of the creaky hinge echoed. It took a second to adjust to the light.
“Kelly,” I yelled.
I looked down at the white marble floor, and the book and gun slipped from my fingers.
The Real Kelly Trozzo
TheInsideJuice.com Interview 2019
INSIDEJUICE: There’s still something you’re not telling me. I think there’s more to your relationship with Kaleb Reed.
TROZZO: He’s my solider.
INSIDEJUICE: Can you elaborate?
TROZZO: It means he’ll do anything I ask of him.
INSIDEJUICE: And what have you asked of him?
TROZZO: Kaleb exceeded all my expectations. He saved young Zoe at her concert in Los Angeles. Then he chased Princess Jade into the tower, battling toe-to-toe with her monster. And as the sun rose and the curse retreated, I wondered if I had pushed too far, if he would abandon his post, if his loyalty would waver. He had every right. I was deep into my morning meditation when I heard him enter the room. He looked drained, emotionally and physically. My broken and damaged soldier, staring at the cursed princess with such love and compassion, wanting more than anything in the world to save her.
His green eyes were fierce, stronger than I gave him credit for. He knelt down next to me, put his hand on my face, and wiped a tear from my cheek. He finally understood why I gave him my favorite sparrow necklace. Others might see him as a monster. But in this story, he is my hero.
Jez: Read the ending, detective. Do you think she made it better? I think so. But maybe I’m biased.
The Final Scene of Pay Me, Alice
The basement pulses with loud music. AJ sees Dan’s shadow in the small room that serves as the club’s makeshift tattoo parlor. Dan’s left shoulder is exposed—the tattoo he knew so well, the serpent and Celtic knot twisted together. It is the same image etched on Alice’s left shoulder, in the exact same spot. They were eighteen years
old when they got them, in love, and impulsive. At one point, Dan must have seen the beauty that was Alice. But somewhere along the line, he stopped trying. He stopped loving her. Dan stopped seeing what AJ saw. That Alice was perfect. That she deserved to be cherished and exalted. She deserved someone who would make her shine brighter and not cower with fear.
The gun is clutched in AJ’s sweaty hand as he leans against the wall. He hears the sound of a tattoo needle against flesh. Two people walk by in the hallway. The club is too dark. The music is too loud. No one notices the weapon.
AJ no longer requires anything in return. He knows he won’t live long enough for the reward. He wants Alice to live, and do things, and be somebody…and stop running from him, from herself, from everything she was too scared to face. He squeezes the handle of the gun one more time, staring at the man who can take that away from her. He knows his fate. He hopes Alice will find peace. He hopes she will find happiness in the future, even if it isn’t with him. This is his sacrifice. She doesn’t owe him anything. Nothing. They are even now, all squared up. He loves her—that is all that matters. He puts the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and walks into the room. Alice’s husband looks up. Their eyes meet. Both of them pause.
And the tattoo needle stops.
