by A. M. Hudson
“Not for my benefit, Ara. For yours.”
I wiped a tear from my cheek, considering things. “Fine. I’m listening.”
“Can I sit?” he asked, motioning to the park bench.
I think I nodded.
His lips turned up softly.
“Don’t smile like that.” My voice shook and I felt taller. “That’s David’s smile. Don’t do that.”
He did it again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just...sorry.” The man of my nightmares leaned on the backrest of the bench and studied me for a second, looking so human, so...not evil. “Ara. I’m a monster. I know you know that. But you have to understand something.”
Feeling weak and shaky, I sat on the moist grass with my legs crossed, but stared him down. “No. I only want you to tell me why you saved me after you tried to kill me!”
“I never wanted you dead. Not really.” He let his breath out heavily. “If you died, if Eric killed you, what do you think David would’ve done?”
Knowing what I know now about David; “I’m not sure.”
“He would rip apart everyone Eric loves. Destroy his entire bloodline, then torture him slowly.” Jason cast a gaze to the moon. “I loved Rochelle—the way David loves you. I can’t breathe, Ara. I can’t think. I can’t even feel anymore. Well, at least—I couldn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure how to explain it.”
“Try.”
“I...well, when we become vampires, a lot of human nature is burned up. We don’t typically feel for humans. Unless we love one. It’s deemed repulsive to love them, yet so many of us do. When I fell for Rochelle, it was as if the world had opened up and turned on a light I never knew existed.” His eyes watched the lake, full of wonder, which washed away quickly as he closed them for a second. “But I only got to hold her for a short time, Ara, because David killed her. He killed her, and I can never see her again.”
I gagged on the pity I felt inside
Jason leaned his elbows on his knees and looked at the grass between his legs. “The pain haunts me, tears me apart. I was in agony for fifty years, burning to the core—unable to make it stop. Nothing but hate and pain and the prospect of revenge.” Jason clenched his hands together. “When my brother fell for a vampire girl, I convinced her to change a child. She did. And he hated her for it; he sent her to be tortured. But I didn’t feel satisfied. My fuel for vengeance ran bone deep. So, I waited. Then, he found you.”
My heart picked up a little.
Jason drew a deep breath, unable to look at me. “I came to your room when he’d go hunting. I watched you while you slept—all the while planning how I’d hurt you. I hated you. I wanted you to feel everything I felt. I wanted to hurt you more than any girl could possibly hurt. So I plotted my revenge.”
“I don’t want to hear this.” I shook my head and went to stand.
“No—” Jason landed beside me, a gentle hand to my shoulder. “I’ve come to you, so many times, to tell you this. But, I didn’t want to scare you.”
“That’s ridiculous, Jason. I have a right to be scared of you.”
“I know.” He dropped his hand. “I know. But I, I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
“Your promises mean nothing to me.”
“Just sit back down. Please?”
Shaking my head at myself, I plonked back on the grass. “Why would you want to tell me this? What does it matter?”
“Because you need to know how I feel. You need to know you’re safe—not just know, but believe, to your core.”
“What changed? Why did you change your mind and leave me alive?”
“I didn’t.”
“Huh?”
“I had to talk myself into hurting you. I—” He bit his knuckle, then dropped it. “I’m sorry. This is really hard for me.”
“Hard for you?”
He smiled, and the resemblance of his brother didn’t irritate me quite so much. “When I held you in my arms, when I danced with you and you looked at me that way, like you knew me, I almost ran away. But my anger burned, and I forced myself to remember why I came—remember Rochelle, remember what I’ve lost. And you came with me—so easily. I hoped you’d fight me. Anything. It would have taken only one thing and I would have left you. But you came, all the while pleading in your heart for David to save you.” He sat back on the bench. “It angered me that he got to have you. That he got to be happy. When I led you away, I had to battle with myself the whole time to hurt you, and every strike, every ache I caused on your delicate, fragile little body—it shattered me. Half the things I had planned, I couldn’t do. I...I dropped you from the tree, and regretted it instantly.” His eyes shut tight.
“You bit me. You undressed me, you tortured me,” I cried, becoming hysterical.
“I know.” He held his hands out, as if he wanted to place them on my body, but couldn’t. “Ara, I’m so sorry.”
I shook my head, unable to believe my ears, insulted by the very words he spoke.
“Can I tell you something else?” he asked then continued without a response. “I know it’s no consolation, but...I was never going to rape you.”
My head whipped up to look at him; he couldn’t look at me.
“I just wanted to scare you. And I’m so, so ashamed of myself for that, of all things. But—” his voice dropped to an almost whisper; “when I bit you—it was to change you.”
“I can’t be changed.”
“I didn’t know that, then. And Mike came for you—before I could get you out of there. If not for the darkness, he would’ve seen me. I was going to take you, wait for you to change, but—”
I waited. “But?”
Jason leaned back, shuffling uncomfortably. “I heard his thoughts as I was lifting you from the ground. He was desperate.” He stared ahead, his eyes narrowing in thought for a second. “I’d never heard that kind of desperation before. I just couldn’t take you. So, I covered you.”
“You did that?”
“I have never been more ashamed of anything I’ve ever done in this world, Ara, and never—” he looked at me, his elbows on his knees, his head resting in cupped hands, “—never have I been more sorry. It suddenly wasn’t about revenge or anger. And I didn’t realise that until it was too late. So, I bit you—to keep you.”
“Keep?”
“Yes.” A wave of silence passed between us for a moment. “After all the time I’d spent watching you, planning to hurt you, when I finally touched you, held you, breathed you in—” he looked into my eyes; the emerald-green started my heart, “—I fell in love with you.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No, that’s sick! You’re lying.”
“I wish I was.” Jason offered a comfortable smile.
“Then, how could you do that? Don’t you know what that did to me—to my life?” I yelled.
“Yes. I do.” His voice broke. “I wish I could make you see. I am eternally sorry for my actions, Ara, I just—I wanted David to hurt. I still want him to hurt. But not by hurting you. I didn’t know what I was doing to you—not then. I knew what affected a human, but I didn’t understand it.” He groaned, cupping the back of his neck. “When Rochelle died, something in me snapped, and it didn’t knit back together until it was too late—I’d already damaged you, and I couldn’t take it back.”
“No!” I pushed up and got to my feet. “I don’t want your apology. You need to leave. Now!”
“Ara. Please?” He stood too, reaching for me.
“No!” I screamed. “You hurt me. You’re a monster. You don’t get absolution.”
“Please?” He appeared beside me. “If you just let me talk to you, I can make you understand.”
I stopped freaking out and looked up into his warm, almost human eyes. “There’s nothing for me to understand.” I shook my head, my voice becoming unsteady again. “You stay the hell away from me!”
This time, I felt strong enough to walk past him, to leave him at my ba
ck where I couldn’t see what he was plotting. My skin crawled, but I kept walking, cringing when a cold breeze picked up and I thought I heard a whisper saying, “I’m sorry.”
I spun around to yell at him, but he was gone.
The crickets hummed again, starting their chorus’ all over the lakeside, one after the other, spreading word that it was safe—that we were all okay. And standing amidst the dark and cold, right across the road from home, from normality, the fight to hold back convulsing tears just took too much effort.
What the hell just happened?
I took my phone out and checked the time, half wishing it would ring—that Mike would call and I could tell him everything. Tell him who it was that attacked me, tell him how Jason saved me, held me softly, talked to me like David would, and confessed that he’s...that he’s...
The reality hit me heavily then.
Love. He said love?
Chapter 7
The sides of my tongue swelled up, filling my mouth with saliva—the kind followed by bile—every time the face of that monster flashed in my mind. I folded over, clutching my hands to my stomach, holding the contents of my gut inside as I reached the gate and swung it open.
The house looked so dark, so empty, despite the front light being on. I prayed silently for Mike to be awake, not wanting to walk in there if the house was void of his warmth.
A breath of hope filled my lungs as I pulled my keys from the lock, but dead silence greeted me, turning the breath into a small screech as I folded over again and cried into my hands.
Mike, why aren’t you awake? Why do you wait for me every other night but tonight?
My bedroom door sat open, the darkness inside reaching out onto the tiles, but all the same, seeming homely and comforting. I’m safe. I’m warm.
But I’m not okay. I need Mike. I just need to talk to him.
I placed my keys in the bowl on the phone stand and tiptoed through to the kitchen. More dark. More silence, which made my quiet sobs seem so loud, echoing off the tiled floors. I didn’t want to wake him if he was sleeping, and though I was upset, the last thing I wanted was for him to run out from his room, with that look of concern, and ask me why I was crying. I had to tell him. I had to finally tell him who did that to me, who attacked me. But if he asked me, I’d close up and not say anything.
I walked on my toes a little, covering my mouth, holding my nose to stop the sobs coming out as I passed Emily’s room and headed down the hall to Mike’s.
A wave of relief eased my soul when I saw the yellow glow coming from under his door.
Instead of bursting in and falling into his loving arms though, I hesitated, my fingers over the handle. Everything will change if I tell Mike this. He’ll be so mad at me for not telling him who attacked me, and he’ll be even more enraged that I met with Jason tonight. But if I don’t tell him now, I never will, and I’ll wear this grief for the rest of my days.
I leaned on the wall beside his door, my head rolled back, eyes tightly closed, still feeling the creep of skin for the possibility that Jason could be anywhere—could be lingering outside my window when I sleep. He’s the entity of my nightmares; the reason I check under my bed, close my closet door before I go to sleep, double check the backseat in my car before I hop in—but, now, he’s the guy who saved me. What do I do with that?
And worse, he says he’s sorry.
How dare he. And how dare I sit and listen to that.
With a nod of certainty, I gripped the handle. I’m telling Mike. We can be angry at Jason together.
“Mike...” I pushed the door open. “I need to tell you som—oh my God!” I slammed it shut, covering my face. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” My hands shook against my lips, muffling the screech that came out with tears. I looked up to the wall, the roof, the doorway, not sure where to go or what to do or how to feel.
But the emotion I couldn’t recognise forced me to fold over slightly, feeling my muscles singe in slow motion, tightening all over with a nauseating twist in my gut. It can’t be true. It just can’t.
“Ara!” Mike’s door swung open, and like a deer reacting to a hunter, I ran, grabbed my keys, fled past my room, past the porch and to the gate—shutting it behind me as Mike reached the front step, still buttoning his jeans. It took him the same amount of time to get the gate open and reach for my door handle as it took me to hop in my car and slam the lock into place.
“Ara!” He banged my window. “Ara, wait.”
Tears streamed over my cheeks; each one an image I wish I hadn’t seen. One for Emily’s naked, golden skin; her legs wrapped tightly around my best friend. Another for his strong hands—the hands which hold me safely—clutched around her hips and tangled in her soft, blonde hair. And the rest for the death of everything I thought we were—everything I’ve never had a right to think.
“Baby, please?” His voice broke with panic. “Come back inside.”
I fumbled with my car keys, my hands shaking, determined to get away. He tugged at my door handle, his pleas muffled beyond the glass. “Ara, let me talk to you.”
I shook my head, swallowing the hot, swelling golf ball in my throat.
“Ara!”
I shoved the car into gear, forcing Mike to either release his hold or be dragged under the tyres as I squealed away, down the street, without looking back.
The world should be all right with the rhythmic squeak of my wipers, pushing waterfalls upward on my windscreen, but the truth, like the ache in my heart, was revealed in the blackness behind the rain. It was stupid to drive off in the middle of the night, especially in wet weather. I could see myself being like one of those girls in a TV series, who rolls her car when she swerves to miss a cat or...or a stranger in the middle of the road.
The wipers seemed very loud then inside my music-less car, and the tin roof merely made the sound of the rain, when mixed with the whir of the road beneath my wheels, amplify the tension I brought with me. I swiped hot pools of tears from my cheeks, leaning forward to see the road clearer through the blur. It didn’t help.
Outside, the night surrounded my little old car, closing me in with a pitch so black I hardly recognised anything. I was sure I’d circled the same street several times, because every sign said “Rose Place.” Then, flicking my headlights on after a while helped, given that I couldn’t see past my front bonnet.
Stupid thing number three; driving with no headlights—in the middle of the night, while it’s raining.
I had no idea where I was going—had nowhere to go, really, so I just turned the wheel when a corner came, following the invisible line of fate to wherever I was meant to end up; in the ocean would suit me just fine.
Inside, a jagged blossom of regret and hatred unfurled, almost releasing the pain in one rush, like the drop from the top of a roller-coaster. Each sob came as a heave of emotion, my mouth agape. I felt pathetic, so glad I’d managed to find a road with no streetlights.
But feeling pathetic once again reminded me so vividly of the night Jason took me—how he humiliated me and forced anger so deep within my soul I merely felt even more powerless. All the things that came to be tonight—Jason, Mike, Eric and our possible...union—circled around me, flaring up memories I had no way to escape—couldn’t drive far enough to get away from.
“Damn it!” I hit the steering wheel, calling to anyone who cared. I did this. I forced Mike and Emily together. I just can’t believe it. I can’t believe Mike would do that—that he’d kiss me, then jump into bed with my best friend.
And Emily should know better! She knows how I feel about Mike. She had no right to touch him. No right!
I hate her. I hate her.
The numbness took over; my arms felt heavy, empty, and my face dropped, all the muscles going flaccid and lazy, like I was sleeping. Easing my foot off the accelerator, the car came to a slow roll in the middle of the road before common sense kicked back in and I turned the wheel a little, not really caring if there was verge to pull up on—or if I�
��d just drop off a cliff.
I forced myself to pull on the handbrake, then sat with my head against the chair back, my eyes tearing, blurring the reflection of headlights off rain, while my ears tried to block the sound of angry thunder. It sounded like a busy street; the wind as the roar of a train, the rain on the roof the patter of a thousand footsteps, and the shelter, the closed-in feeling of the car, like being packed between twenty bodies—too warm, too tight—suffocating.
I lurched from the car and slipped, landing chest-to-floor with slimy pools of mud oozing through my fingertips.
The thunder was louder out here, its angry growl seeming to touch the tips of the trees, gently brushing them like a hand along a wall.
With tightly closed fists, I stood up looked back at the car. What now? I had no idea where I was or what time it was. My car fuel light had come on and the rain was soaking the dash inside, leaving moist friends behind to stink my car out tomorrow when the heat returned.
I kicked the door shut with my heel then, shaking clumps of mud from my hands, wandered toward the tree line. At least with the headlights on, I could make out that they were actually trees. When I reached the other side of the road, I looked past the leaves and branches, but saw no houses. No mailboxes, no driveways.
Suddenly, I felt very alone.
With the sky hidden behind the leafy canopy and the cluster of storm clouds, I couldn’t make out north or south from my own arm.
Retreat became imminent, until the rain slowed to a soft patter, opening up to a gentle breeze, the fruity scent of water mixing with the light scent of pine within it. I took a closer look at the shoulder of the road beneath my feet. Dirt. Brown dirt lining bitumen on both sides. I knew then that only meters up ahead the road turned completely dirt and a pair of evergreens would be there to greet me, sentries to a world I once knew only with David.
“The lake.”
Just being so near it again, I could feel the memories, feel David, the love we had, the way we held hands, the way we talked about things we’d never share with anyone else—the way he knew me better than I knew myself. I wanted to cry for him, but somehow, just being in the one place left in the world that was our little secret, I felt closer. So I walked instead. Heel over toe, balancing each step carefully, looking only at my feet until the bitumen became dirt, well, mud, and the mud became trees. I looked up at the evergreens, welcoming me with the swaying bows. The branches had grown since I was last here, and gently brushed my face and neck as I ducked beneath them and entered the darkness of the forest trail.
