by Kira Adams
* * *
There are tubes connected to multiple areas on his body. He looks weak and vulnerable. I’ve never seen Tyson like this before. I can barely handle it. Every time I stare, I want to vomit. I’m wrecked. I approach his bedside slowly, tip-toeing. I don’t want to disturb him at all.
His eyes open and they lock on me, electricity tingles up my back. He looks medicated and tired, yet surprised. I’m nervous to touch him in fear I will hurt him, but I can’t help the urge to hug him. I press my head up against his gently. “I don’t know what I would have done if you were…” I trail off, sucking in a shaky intake of air. I shake my head lightly. “I’m so sorry for everything. I’m so sorry I pushed you away. I was scared.”
His eyes widen as they roll upwards and then closed. I watch him intently, worried, and then he opens his eyes slowly, a tear slipping down the side of his face. It tears me up to see him upset. I stop the tear in its track with my lips. I feel a volt of electricity zap through my body. “I don’t mean to upset you,” I whisper, leaning my forehead against his. “That’s the last thing I want.
I feel a hand grip my arm lightly and I realize he has reached out for me. The way he is looking at me tells me that I’m forgiven. “What happened?” I ask.
He shakes his head dismissively pulling his hand back. “I don’t know,” he says through labored breaths. “It all happened so fast. All I can even remember is opening the door. I can’t even remember what the shooter looked like.”
“Do they know who did it?” I probe further.
He shakes his head again. “When I gave my statement this morning, the police mentioned that they were still working on leads.”
I feel like I’ve been as strong as I can be for one day. I know the doctor urged that we stay calm so as to not upset Tyson, but my emotions are boiling over. Tears are burning the backs of my eyes before I can utter another word. I throw my hand over my nose and mouth in an attempt to stifle my cries. I go as far as turning around so my back is to Tyson.
“Bryce,” he says in a pained voice. “What’s wrong?”
I spin back around, my eyes glossy. “I was so scared I was going to lose you.”
He reaches out for me. “But you didn’t. I’m alive, and I will heal.”
I release a breath of relief. “Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?”
He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it. “Bryce, we don’t have to do this now.”
“No, you don’t understand. I want to talk about this,” I say. He continues to hold my hand, but I can tell I have his full attention. “I’m sorry I’ve been so stubborn and stupid,” I begin. “I was blind. I didn’t realize what was right in front of me. What’s always been right in front of me.” I inhale deeply, feeling the effects of my words reverberating through my chest. “You’ve always been my savior. I was afraid of losing our friendship, so I kept pushing my feelings for you away, but I would rather try to have a relationship with you than live a life full of regrets and what if’s. Tyson, I love you.”
He inhales deeply, his facial expression full of passion. He doesn’t bother responding verbally, instead pulls me into him until our lips meet. I try to stay gentle and not put any pressure on him, but it’s difficult with how deeply he is kissing me. It leaves me breathless. Like I need my oxygen fix and he’s got it. I don’t know why I didn’t try this before…
We spend the next hour wrapped up in each other when his mother finally comes in and asks for some alone time with her son. I oblige, but offer to make a pit stop at Tyson’s house to pick him up his iPod and a change of clothes. I have every intention on coming back to the hospital. After all, I’m not sure I have a home to return to.
* * *
When I pull up to Tyson’s house, the street lamps illuminate the curb where I park beside, and I make my way up his porch. The motion sensor light shines on me as I make it to the front door. The house is dark inside, and after a few quick peeks through the window, I make the assessment that Grae is not home.
Luckily, I thought this far ahead, because I asked Tyson where the spare key might be hidden in case Grae was MIA upon my arrival. I find the spare key under a dead pot of flowers, and let myself inside without issue. I hit the switches as I pass by rooms, lighting up the darkened spaces. Tyson’s room is upstairs, so I scurry up the stairs and into the bedroom I know to be his. Clothes are strewn about all over the bed and floor and the OCD part of me can’t move on until I clean up the mess. Without knowing whether they are clean or dirty, I end up chucking the whole pile into his dirty clothes hamper. I spot his iPod sitting on his desk, connected to the computer via a USB cord. I unplug it and throw it inside my purse. My eyes scan the room, landing on the closet. I hurriedly rush over and end up finding a pair of light grey sweatpants, a white crew neck t-shirt, socks, and a pair of boxer-briefs.
As I’m about to leave his room and make my descent back downstairs, I hear the front door close. Grae must have gotten home. I scoop the clothes up in my arms and begin making my way down the stairs. I’m expecting to come face to face with Tyson’s roommate, but he isn’t in the living room. I double back toward the stairs and peek my head into the room I know to be his. It’s darkened and no one answers when I call out his name.
I could have sworn I heard the front door close. I take hesitant steps toward the front door, noticing the motion sensor flood light is still on. After peeking out the window, I open the door and stick my head out. The driveway is empty and my car is the only one out in front of the house. The air is cooler now, and I shudder as I close the door, bumps rising all over my arms and legs.
I need to go turn off the lights I’ve switched on since I arrived. I spin around, headed in the opposite direction, when I run into a stiff object. I swivel my head up and I lose control of my bladder. The warm liquid is trailing down my legs. Robbie.
I drop the clothes I am holding and twirl around, instantly grabbing for the handle when I feel the impact of something hard and cold against my skull and I go flying toward the ground. My eyes are closed before I crash to the floor roughly.
Before
* * *
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I pull my hand back quickly.
The person whose hand I just grazed turns his eyes to me. They are intense and beautiful, making my heart race. “I’m sorry.” He chuckles, casting his eyes downward. “Go ahead.” He motions with his head toward the book I had previously been grabbing.
I reach up on my tip-toes once more, grabbing the infamous book from the top shelf. “Was this the book you were reaching for too?” I ask, holding the book on the Revolutionary War out for him to see.
He nods, smiling. “My teacher uses it in our American History class.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “Where do you go to school?”
“ASU,” he replies, shifting the weight of his backpack around.
“Me too.” My eyes light up. “Who’s your teacher?”
“Mr. Bonham,” he says, pausing to see if it registers.
I shrug. “I have Mrs. Jefferson.”
He nods. “I’m Robbie.” He reaches out a hand, taking mine delicately into his own and shaking it.
“Bryce,” I say, fixated on his handsome outward appearance.
“Well, it looks like there is only one copy. Would you be opposed to sharing it with me, Bryce?” Robbie asks. I shake my head no, semi-out of it. He is charming, handsome, and mysterious.
Please tell me you’re my next mistake.
I lead the way to a back table where we can share the book. There is absolutely no way in hell he’s not checking out my ass as we walk. I make sure to shimmy back and forth seductively as he follows. I plan to have him eating out of the palm of my hand in a few hours.
Thirteen: Praying for a Miracle
I come to in an unfamiliar room. It’s cold in here, and everything looks older and concrete. There aren’t any windows in the room, and it’s barely furnished, minus the small twin size bed, dresser, and
two person table. My eyes continue scanning the small area, and I’m starting to believe that I’m in a basement somewhere.
I look down at my clothes and realize that I have been changed. I am now in grey sweats which are a few sizes too big for me and a white t-shirt. He cleaned me up. He saw everything. My cheeks hurt like hell from the duct tape across my lips. My hands and feet are duct taped to a chair. There is something weird going on with my forehead, like something is sticking to it. My eyes fall on Robbie and I know now he isn’t some figment of my imagination. Besides his unruly facial hair and overgrown mane, Robbie looks about the same as he always has. His eyes stay constant with their chilling blue irises. My heart begins beating erratically, my eyes shifting frantically around the room, looking for anything to fight back with; looking for a way out.
“Well, well, look who’s finally awake,” Robbie taunts me as he inches closer. I lean as far back in my chair as I can. I don’t want that monster anywhere near me. His facial expression softens as he approaches. “God, you’re so beautiful. You’ve always been so God damn beautiful. But you knew that already…didn’t you?” He sits down on the edge of the bed, pulling my chair so that I am facing him. “I changed your clothes. I behaved, scouts honor.” He salutes me. “I just knew how embarrassed you would be if you woke up and realized you pissed your pants.”
I had peed the bed a couple of times when we were together. It was always when I was in the middle of a nightmare. Robbie used to belittle me. He used to rub my nose in it like I was some kind of fucking animal. He always said, “You want to be treated like an adult? Then act like one.”
I squint back at him, wondering what I ever saw in the loser.
He slams his palm to his forehead. “Why did you have to ruin everything? I loved you so God damned much!”
I can’t answer, even if I want to.
I feel his hands grip my legs right above my knees, and I shudder beneath his touch. He doesn’t even notice my reaction. “It’s really a shame too. You were a perfect canvas until the accident.”
I want to break free and lunge at him; wrap my delicate fingers around his thick neck and choke the life out of him. I’ve never loathed someone as deeply as I do my ex-boyfriend. Not to mention the fact that I am still as terrified to death of him today as I was a year ago. I may be even more timid because of everything that has transpired since that day.
Robbie grins back at me, sadistically. “Do you recognize where we are?” he asks animatedly, standing up and spinning around.
My eyes follow him, but nothing comes to mind.
He gives me a disappointed look and then sighs. “I’m hurt.” He throws his hand over his chest dramatically. “But I guess I’ll tell you.” He strides over to the table and picks up a framed photo, holding it up in front of my face.
It is a picture of Robbie and me from when we first moved into our new house, next door to Tyson. It was six months before he lit me on fire. I remember how disillusioned I was. I remember my goofy grin standing in front of something that we shared. I was so proud. He pulls the picture back and stares at the glass lovingly. He strokes the picture a few times with his fingers before setting it back down on the table. “Remember that day?” he asks. “You were making me take a million pictures because we finally got our own place. That place was the beginning of us and also the untimely end. That place is our relationship. This was always our place.” The way he emphasizes his last words make me think he is giving me a hint of some kind. My eyes scan the concrete walls and ceiling before they land back onto Robbie’s grinning face. It can’t be.
“You know I cleared out of here for a couple of weeks after everything went down. The police were looking for me everywhere and I managed to lie low, but after a while people started to forget. So I returned, but they were already clearing our stuff out of the house, so I found a loophole. I remembered the time I used to spend in the basement, and I can still remember when we used to play hide and seek, and your favorite hideout.”
I swallow digesting his words. My eyes continue to travel along the walls and I realize that the reason I didn’t recognize the room is because it’s furnished. Before when we lived in the house this room was hidden and bare.
“So I found a bed and some other furniture and I was set up in my new room before they ever rented it out again. It was the perfect set up.”
My stomach drops as I realize that Robbie never actually left, it was merely an illusion I convinced myself to believe in; a healing tactic. He’s known my every move. He’s been following me longer than back on Halloween. Chills run throughout my body.
I remember how deeply I fell for him after I first met him and how quickly. There were signs from the beginning I chose to ignore: his short temper, the unwarranted jealousy, and his low blows during arguments. It wasn’t until we moved in together that things began to escalate to the next level. I still remember the way it felt after he laid his hands on me the first time, how stunned I was.
“You know, I never wanted any of this. All I ever wanted was you. I thought I wouldn’t ever see you again after everything, but it’s like I’m getting a second chance, and I want to do it right this time. Now that we’re finally back together, I am going to prove my love to you.”
I’m having trouble breathing because of the duct tape on my lips and because I’m scared to know what he means by proving his love to me. He reaches his hand out to touch my chin and my whole body convulses, and I begin sobbing.
“I’ve been following you for a while, Bryce. I was there the day you took your first steps out of the house, the day you landed your new job. I was there on Halloween, and I gunned Tyson down in his own home.” He stops, beaming. “He didn’t even see it coming. The difficult part was getting the gun. Would you believe I stole this off a police officer?”
I’m trembling with fear and choking on my tears.
“I’m going to remove the tape across your mouth, but you have to promise not to scream.”
I shake my head in a yes fashion enthusiastically knowing the minute he frees my mouth I am screaming for help.
As soon as I feel the cool air meet my lips, I’m screaming as loud as humanly possible. “Help! Help me!” I see his hand coming at my face before my mind registers the pain to follow. He backhands me so hard, the chair I am strapped to falls to the ground with a loud thud. My cheek is on fire and throbbing from the impact, even my shoulder feels injured from the fall.
“Shhh.” He motions with a finger over his lips when there are audible footsteps coming from above us. I see Robbie’s feet approaching and then I am pulled back into a seated position.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, my lip quivering in fear.
“Because dear, I love you so God damn much, and I can’t bear to see you with anyone else. We are soulmates. You’re mine and you’ve always been,” he says in a controlling tone. “Why do you think I cut Tyson’s brakes and then shot him? He’s just an obstacle for us. He always has been.”
The beating of my heart intensifies as he continues to brag about the fact that Tyson is in the hospital. I should have known.
The only thing that I can focus on right now is staying alive. The only way that can happen is if I free myself from my restraints. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I try another tactic entirely.
“No worries, babe.” Robbie slips out of the room so quickly, I almost miss him. He returns seconds later with a white plastic bucket. It looks like the same type of one my mother uses for mopping. He places it in front of me and I stare from the duct tape holding me in place to the bucket and back again. There is no way he expects me to pee in that. He motions with his head toward the bucket. “I can’t trust you to go to the bathroom without raising hell so this is your only option.”
I glance back at my restraints, swallowing. “No thanks, I’ll just hold it.”
