by Marni Mann
The reason she hadn’t heard from me was because Dylan had come home last night. And he had gotten my full attention seconds after I climbed into bed.
I turned over to face his side of the mattress and saw he hadn’t stayed.
I deserved that.
I was surprised he had even shown up after I spent so much time with Smith.
But he had.
And he’d made love to me.
And, now, I was by myself again.
I tucked the blanket over my head, so I wouldn’t have to look at his unmarked pillow.
Me: Sleeping. Go away.
Rose: At least give me an emoji, so I know how things went.
I added a sun.
But then I deleted it.
In its place, I put a blushing face with puckered, kissing lips.
Rose: Shut the fuck up. I need details, woman. I’m calling you right now.
Me: Let me wake up first and get some coffee in me, and then I’ll give you a call in a little while.
Rose: At least tell me where it took place.
Me: It happened after the game in the middle of Lansdowne Street.
Rose: You spent the WHOLE day with him? What went down after the kiss?
Me: We got in separate cars, and I went home.
Rose: Are you going to see him again?
Me: Yes, on my next day off.
Me: I’m pretty certain you’re going to love him.
Rose: You really think this guy can handle me?
Me: I think he’s going to surprise the hell out of you.
Rose: Because that’s what he did to you yesterday, isn’t it?
Me: He’s nothing like him, Rose.
Rose: Do you want to talk about it?
Me: No.
Rose: You know … yesterday was such a beautiful, sunny day.
Me: That made it even more perfect.
Twenty-Six
Alix
Present Day
I woke to a sound.
It was one I didn’t hear that often.
One that made my entire body tense.
That halted my movements and made me still inside my bed.
There was a chance I’d only hear it once.
That the skies would clear, and the noises from the storm would quiet.
While I waited, I stabbed my nails into the blanket, clinging to the material as though it were holding me. As though it could pull me out of this world and put me in a place where there wasn’t any thunder.
But then it happened again.
The sound.
The cracking.
The unmistakable boom that echoed throughout my bedroom.
I shook like I was swimming in the icy water of Lake Tahoe.
Lake Tahoe.
God, I wished my mind hadn’t gone there.
But, as the thunder slapped the air around me for the third time, I knew this was just the beginning.
Of my thoughts.
Of the trembling.
I folded myself into a ball, my arms wrapping over the top of my head.
I was bracing myself.
Because I knew it was about to happen again.
Any second.
I hadn’t checked the weather, and I hadn’t watched the news, so I hadn’t known it was supposed to rain today, that I wouldn’t wake up to another sunny day.
The noise went off again.
A craaack that was like leather whipping bare skin.
A headache gnawed at my skull.
My stomach churned.
I found it hard to breathe.
This was what happened every time.
Same symptoms.
Same emotions.
Same tremors rocking my entire body.
With each quiver, it felt like the covers were strangling me even tighter.
I had to get out.
I scanned the different spots around my room, looking for a place to run to.
There was the chair on one side. The entrance to the bathroom and the door to the closet on the other.
My feet padded over the floor.
They moved so fast.
And I lunged inside the large walk-in closet.
There weren’t any windows.
I didn’t turn on the light.
I wanted the darkness.
I wanted the room to feel like it was hugging me.
I was only a few steps in when I fell to my knees.
I didn’t shout when the hardness pounded my joints.
When every part of me cried from the impact.
Instead, I crawled.
Each inch of flooring I pulled myself across caused my lungs to restrict even more, caused an ache to shoot all the way up my throat.
I paused.
I dry-heaved.
I did it again.
Nothing but the sound of retching came out.
My stomach finally settled enough for me to keep moving, and I reached the side of the closet.
Dylan’s side.
And I wrapped my arms around his suit pants and held them against my chest.
“Help me,” I whispered.
Dylan couldn’t hear me.
He’d left this morning.
Maybe to fly out before the storm.
Craaack.
My ass hit the floor while my back slammed against the wall.
His pants hung in front of me.
They hid me.
They taunted me.
Craaack.
I gripped every pair that would fit in my hands, and I pulled.
The metal bar they were dangling from broke.
Hangers flew.
Pants dropped all around me.
Bold and spicy.
That was all I could smell.
I wrapped the clothes over me.
I shut my eyes.
I ground my teeth until my jaw felt like it was going to shatter.
Craaack.
I wished it would stop.
I wished there were only sunny days.
Goddamn it, why does it have to rain?
Suddenly, I heard another noise.
This one had come from the bedroom.
It was my phone.
And it was Rose’s ringtone.
She was checking on me.
She did that whenever there was a storm.
But I couldn’t get up.
I couldn’t leave the closet.
I couldn’t answer it.
Craaack.
I held the pants against my ears.
My body swayed forward and back, hitting the wall each time.
My mouth opened.
And the scream that came out was as loud as the thunder.
Twenty-Seven
Smith
Present Day
I stood at the sink, holding my hands under the running water while I looked out the window. The streetlamps showed how hard the rain was coming down, and the few people walking by were all hidden beneath umbrellas.
It was fucking nasty out there.
That was probably the reason Alix was already ten minutes late for dinner.
I’d been looking forward to this evening since the last one we spent together, so I hoped she didn’t take too much longer to arrive.
I dried my fingers on a towel and went over to the range, stirring the tomato sauce and flipping the chicken and shrimp I had sautéing in separate pans.
Alix had eaten both during the times we went out; therefore, I knew they were safe to prepare. I’d never forget the way her lips had looked when she opened them to take a bite. How she’d licked the corner of her mouth after she swallowed. Or how, when I’d made her smile, it’d reached all the way to her eyes.
God, she was beautiful.
In a way that made my whole body ache.
An ache that I was having a hard time controlling.
So, I focused on the food, turning down the flame under each burner to prevent it from burning. I was going to add the protein to some fresh pappardelle,
mix in the homemade sauce, and serve a rosemary-garlic bread on the side.
But, first, we’d start with cake.
I knew how hard that would make Alix grin, and I couldn’t fucking wait to see it.
There was a bakery only a few blocks from where I had grown up that was my favorite. When we were kids, it was where I used to take my sister on her birthday. I’d get her a slice of any flavor she wanted since I couldn’t afford a whole cake. This afternoon, I’d made a special trip to that part of town to pick up some for Alix.
I just hadn’t known what else to grab for her.
When you were raised like I had been, you learned really quickly why you shouldn’t take food for granted. That was why I took pictures from restaurants all over the world.
That wasn’t what Alix did.
I’d checked out her profile again this morning, hoping to get an idea of some of the other things she ate and drank, to learn a little more about her.
The pictures of the sun told me nothing.
The little I knew came from the dates we’d been on.
Dates I hadn’t wanted to end.
There were so many things about this girl that were different.
I had known that when I received her message, asking if Joe was all right.
She was sweet with a heavy dose of shyness. Mysterious and compassionate. The most gorgeous woman I’d ever kissed.
But what made her so unlike the others were her eyes.
They were older than the twenty-something years she’d been alive.
They’d seen moments that were unforgettable.
So had mine.
I could tell nothing could shock her anymore.
We had that in common, too.
The women I’d been with thought they could handle a guy like me.
That was until I woke them during one of my nightmares.
Until they learned how dark my life had been.
I would never allow them to see either, so I would end things after the first few days.
That wasn’t the case with Alix.
Instead, I was pulling her in.
Because, when I looked into those stunning eyes, I saw someone who would understand me.
Someone who had experienced pain.
Who still felt it.
And that scared me right down to my fucking core.
I shook my head, taking a drink from the Tito’s and soda I’d poured a few minutes ago, and checked the temperature of the champagne. That was what Alix had ordered both times we were together, so I knew she liked it.
The bread was done toasting, and I took it out of the oven.
The chicken and shrimp were ready to be combined.
There was nothing left to do.
Except wait for her.
And, now, she was fifteen minutes late.
I waited another ten before I texted her.
Me: Are you all right?
I shoved my phone into my pocket and carried my drink into the living room. Once I sat on the couch, I grabbed my tablet off the coffee table and went through a few of my emails. When I looked at the time again, she was forty-two minutes late.
Where the hell are you, Alix?
And why haven’t you called me?
Before I had a chance to get back to my inbox, my phone began to ring.
“About fucking time,” I growled, the worry dropping from my chest.
That was, until I saw the goddamn screen.
“Mom,” I said, holding the phone up to my ear. “What’s going on?”
I always took her calls.
Regardless of the time or situation I was in.
And even if I didn’t want to deal with her shit.
Like now.
“I need money.”
I laughed even though not a word she’d said was funny.
My jaw tightened as my teeth clenched together. “What do you need it for?”
I didn’t know why I’d asked. The answer would only piss me off.
“Some motherfucker came into my apartment and took my stash. Jimmy will front me a balloon, but that means I’ll owe him, and you never want to be indebted to your dealer, son.”
“Jesus Christ.”
She never hid it from me.
One of the first things I remembered playing with were caps from her syringes.
I rubbed one of my temples. “How much do you need?”
“Three hundred.”
Tonight wasn’t supposed to be about this.
It was supposed to be about Alix and getting to know her more.
Goddamn it.
I pressed a button on the tablet and logged into my bank. I transferred three hundred from my account to hers. A confirmation popped up that the money had been sent.
I was enabling her.
I fucking knew that.
I just didn’t know how to stop.
“It’s there,” I told her.
I heard the flick of a lighter. “Could you bring me a carton of cigarettes tomorrow? You know the ones I like. Menthol one hundreds.”
I ran my hand over my trimmed beard, fingers digging into my fucking skin. “I just gave you three hundred dollars. You can find your way to a store.”
I hung up and poured myself another drink, sipping it while I looked out the kitchen window.
I didn’t move.
And, the next time I saw the screen of my phone, it showed Alix was an hour and a half late.
I found her number in my Contacts and listened to the four rings before her voice mail picked up. I didn’t leave a message. I didn’t put the food in the fridge either. I just turned off the stove and all the lights and made my way upstairs.
Before I got to my room, I sent Alix a final text.
Me: I hope you’re safe.
Twenty-Eight
Alix
Present Day
It was a circle.
A never-ending merry-go-round that didn’t stop or throw me off.
It just got more vicious after each rotation.
More painful.
It made me wonder when the ride was going to end.
Because it would.
It had to.
I told myself that over and over.
But, during those moments in the closet, the only thing I believed was how helpless I was.
I couldn’t escape.
Leave.
Get up.
I was paralyzed.
My ass cemented to the floor, my back glued to the wall.
I was covered in Dylan’s suit pants.
Craaack after craaack filled my ears.
During the slashes of thunder, I was immediately hit with a memory. The same one. Just a flash of it flickering across my eyes.
In those few seconds, I saw every detail.
Over and over.
And, between each craaack, during the periods where there was silence, I tried to remember what normal was.
What it felt like.
How it was a place without pain.
Without memories.
That was only filled with sunny days.
My eyes would close, and I’d think of something that made me smile.
Sitting on a bench in the Public Garden.
Standing on top of Cadillac Mountain.
It wasn’t just a picture.
It was as though I were there, experiencing it again.
I could smell the salty air from the summit, feel the crispness of it on my skin. I could hear the wind as it whipped past my face.
I wanted to go.
I would.
But not just to those two places.
I wanted to go everywhere.
So, I would start making a mental list of the places I would visit when I got out of the closet.
Things I would eat.
Tasks I would accomplish.
Then, the ride would turn forty-five degrees.
This was where I felt the loneliness.
It would come out of nowhere.
; It would slap me.
Hard.
Directly across the face.
No one could understand how ugly that part got.
Not Rose.
Especially not Dylan.
It wouldn’t matter if they were in here with me.
If their arms were wrapped around me. If I heard them tell me I wasn’t alone.
It would still eat at me and break me down.
It would leave me with an emptiness, an isolation that could never be filled.
This was what I would have to live with.
Forever.
And then, suddenly, without warning, the ride would turn once more.
Craaack would fill my ears.
And I’d be back in the memory phase.
This would go on for hours.
It held me captive.
Turning, turning, turning until the ride finally came to a stop.
It was the sound of the doorbell that had caused it to halt.
For my eyes to burst open.
It chimed again.
And again.
I felt the chains loosen from around my wrists. The cement cracked beneath me, my back unsticking from the wall, releasing me enough that I could push myself up.
I got onto my knees.
My nails dug into the wood.
I was on my feet.
The ringing continued, not slowing a bit.
Now, it was all I could hear.
Carpet squished between my toes as I moved through the bedroom.
The coldness from the window burned my face as I pressed my nose against the glass.
I looked down at the sidewalk below.
It wasn’t raining anymore.
And that made me listen.
And I heard Rose say, “Alix, open the door,” between slamming her finger on the bell.
My Rose.
She was here.
She was the reason for all the ringing.
And for all the beeping, I assumed, which was coming from my cell that was somewhere in here, indicating I had a voice mail.
I unlatched the window, lifting it before I said, “I’ll be right down.”
I went back into the closet to change my clothes.
The ones I was wearing felt extremely wet.
