by Skyla Madi
I say nothing and hang up the phone, hoping that all the noise I just made didn’t trigger the intruder toward me. The doorknob moves again, and this time, I know they’re trying to get into my bedroom.
Trying to get me.
“I know you’re in there—I see your feet from underneath the door, little bird,” a man says from the other side of the door. I look down at my bare feet, wiping the droplets of water from my eyes to see better. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” He laughs the most horrible, smoky laugh I’ve ever heard.
I really wish Jake would hurry as the man pounds hard once on the door, turns the knob, and opens the door…slowly. He broke the lock easily, like he knew exactly how to hit the wood to snap the latch. He’s done this before. My eyes widen as I back away toward the wall.
The man steps inside and looks around the room, then his eyes glue on me. “You all alone in here, little bird?” His balding head turns just to make sure someone isn’t waiting to pounce on him, like he’s ready to pounce on me. “Well, well, looks like it’s my lucky day. You are all alone in here.”
“What do you want?” I yell. “I don’t have anything of value in here.”
His feet scrape across the floor; I smell the alcohol on his breath so strongly that it makes me sick to my stomach. “Oh, I beg to differ, honey. You are the highest value item in this whole place.” He walks to me, and I can’t move; I can’t fight back. He takes a chunk of my hair and tugs on it; the sensation isn’t welcoming. “Stand up, girl. I just want what I was promised, and you’re going to help me get it.”
“I highly advise that you let her go.” Jake’s eyes are bloodshot and dark as he looks at the stranger who has a tight grip on my head. “Let her go before I kill you.”
The man laughs but knows that Jake can snap his neck with barely any effort by the looks of the two of them and their physiques. I wish that he would just push me toward Jake and run, but he pulls a knife from his pocket instead and puts it to my throat when he stands me upward against him. “I’ll slice her fucking throat open if you take one step closer, kid.”
Jake growls. He wants to move forward to save me but doesn’t; he can tell that this man is telling the truth. “Give her to me and take what you want from here. We’ll leave, and you’ll never have to see us again.”
The man laughs loudly. “I want my money. The girl’s just insurance to get back what I was promised.”
“W-What were you promised?” The knife presses into my throat. I look at Jake’s sad eyes. He can’t take his eyes off of the man long enough to share my fear until I whimper softly when the knife presses deeper into my thin flesh. He sees that I’m scared; he smiles at me and puts a little ease into my veins, like he’s telling me to relax inside my mind.
The man scoffs and presses the knife so hard into my throat that I feel a trickle of blood dripping down my neck onto my t-shirt. Jake’s body trembles with rage. “I was promised money was hidden in this house. I was also promised no one would be home.”
I feel so dizzy that I’m going to pass out as he pushes the knife harder into my neck, and I can now feel the sting of an open gash. If he pushes any more…
Jake clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Looks like someone lied to you. You’ve got the wrong house. Who told you this information?”
The man says nothing but throws me on the bed with such force that I nearly bounce back up and into his arms again.
“It’s your lucky day, after all,” he snarls, holding the knife toward Jake. “Let me pass.”
Jake snorts; the anger in his body radiates through the room. I want to close my eyes so I don’t see the things he’s going to do to him. I silently wish that he’ll just let the man pass and wrap me in his arms until my parents come home.
“It may be her lucky day, but it isn’t yours.” He lunges at the man. The knife gets lost in the scuffle; I can’t see it anymore to even pick it up to help. I yell Jake’s name loudly; he doesn’t look over as he pins the man on the floor, repeatedly punching his face even when the blood stains his hands and the man becomes unresponsive.
“Jake, stop!” I run over to him, restraining his arm from bringing down another blow. “You’re going to kill him. Please stop.”
The look of horror in his face when he sees the fear I have for him is heartbreaking. “I should kill him for what he’s done to you.” He looks back down at the man. I take his head into my hands and hold him to my chest so he can hear my heartbeat. The blood that trickles down my neck onto my t-shirt makes him bite his bottom lip until it turns white.
“Jake, please,” I beg. “Let him go.”
Finally, Jake does what I ask. The man is bleeding on my carpet with his eyes closed, but I see his torso moving up and down from shallow breathing. Jake stands up and wipes his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, ashamed to look at me.
“I would’ve killed him if you hadn’t stopped me. He was hurting you.” A tear falls from his eye. “He shouldn’t have touched you like that.” I don’t say anything as I cradle my phone in my shaking hands.
“Are you afraid of me?” he whispers.
“No.” I try to find a smile stashed somewhere inside of all of the chaos. “You saved me—again.”
Jake’s lips curve into a smile as the man stirs at his feet. Before either of us realize what’s happening, the silver flash of the knife digs into Jake’s side. He looks at me with sadness as I scream his name and he falls to his knees. The man runs from the room, and I hear yelling at the end of the stairs as someone tells him to get on his knees and put his hands over his head.
“Up here!” I yell so loudly the room shakes. “Someone help us! We’re up here!”
A few men in uniform come running into the room and call for an ambulance, allowing me to put Jake’s head in my lap and stroke his hair. He smiles up at me like nothing is happening around us and we’re alone.
“You just got stabbed and you’re smiling?” I shake my head through the stinging tears in my eyes.
He laughs then coughs, careful not to move too much as the movement agitates the knife still embedded in his abdomen.
The paramedics come into the room, followed by my parents, who look so horrified when they see the blood on my carpet I think they might faint.
“Livvie, what happened? Why is there a man in handcuffs downstairs?” my mother screeches and then runs for me, pulling me into a bear hug. “And why is there blood all over your floor?”
My dad pats Jake on the shoulder once they get him on a gurney. “Hang in there.” He looks at the paramedics and keeps his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Will he be okay?” One of the medics speaks with him about Jake needing small stitches as my head starts to split in two with searing pain again.
The police question us after Jake gets his stitches and refuses a trip to the hospital. We both had the same story, and my parents and Caitlyn heard every word of it. When all the first responders have gone, Mom shuts the front door, and her eyes fall on Dad.
“Who would tell a junkie that we had money stashed here?”
Dad sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a prank?”
Caitlyn snorts. “That’s a messed-up prank.”
Jake chimes in. “Maybe they just had the wrong house. You guys just moved here a year ago, right? Maybe they thought someone else lived here.”
When Jake’s eyes meet my father’s, they nod slightly at each other and then quickly look away in case anyone sees them and whatever message they’re sharing in their minds.
They know each other.
They’re both holding a secret.
A secret that I intend to find out.
Chapter Thirteen
Smack
For three days, Jake has been in my bed. His large body snuggles underneath my pale-yellow comforter; his long legs almost hang over the end when he relaxes.
The first two nights were peaceful. His light snoring was a welcoming sound to me when I crawled i
nto the armchair to pretend to read. For the first time in what seems like forever, I don’t have to worry about his obsessive pull over me. Or even how sometimes he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the room—naked and exposed.
“I still don’t see why your boss won’t give you any more time off,” Jake pouts. “I mean, someone close to you was stabbed, and you need to be here for me, right?”
I hold my breath. I thought he was going to say something leading in a different direction, but Jake’s feelings for me aren’t so obvious anymore. Before zipping up my sweatshirt, I shake my head and smile. I remember to grab a band to tie my hair up before I leave. “I told you, Rosemary isn’t exactly the warm-and-fuzzy type. She only let me take the first two days because my mom talked to her.”
“The woman runs a YMCA, for Christ’s sake,” he scoffs. “Isn’t a major job requirement to be warm and fuzzy?”
I have to admit, being Jake’s friend is easy—much easier than I thought it would be. He’s actually funny when he tries to be. He’s also someone that doesn’t like talking during movies…I had to find that one out the hard way.
“Look, Jake…” I sigh and zip up my bag, throwing it over my shoulder in hopes that he’ll take me seriously. “My mom and Caitlyn are here to tend to your every need. Just make sure you text my mom first if you don’t want Caitlyn in bed with you by the time your painkillers kick in.”
“As if I needed that reminder.”
I feel a little guilty that I’m racing off to work when he’s still pinned to bed; I’ve been shut up inside for days, and I need to be alone to Google Jake’s name. “Okay, I’ll tell you what: tonight we can watch whatever movie you want.”
“Whatever I want?” His interest is piqued, and I instantly regret what I’ve just said. “Okay, fine, when do you get off work?”
“Six. I work an early shift today with Brant.” The glare returns, but I smile and wave anyway, rushing out of the room before I’m forced to have the conversation that’s brewing in his mind.
He thinks I won’t come back.
The air is getting colder the closer to October it gets. I welcome the crisp flicks of icy air against my skin. I think about how off-track I’ve gotten—I was supposed to be researching Jake’s name and looking for the truth about my memories. Of course, Jake getting stabbed set me off a little; I make a mental note to start researching at work the moment I get there.
When I slam the car door behind me in the YMCA parking lot, Brant smiles and waves at me from the entrance doors and hurries me inside, out of the cold.
“Well, I don’t think too many people are gonna wanna swim today, do you?” He snickers at his own joke. “I’ll change into my suit anyway.”
“I don’t need to see your abs, Brant.” I let him take my jacket for me. “Why don’t you just close the pool and work out?” He hangs the jacket neatly on the rack near my desk and frowns.
“There’s more to me than just working out, Liv.” His voice is sad and weak. “Is that all you think I’m good for? Someone nice to look at with no brains?”
“Whoa, where is this coming from?” I hold up my hands in defense.
A mischievous smile creeps across his face. “I’m only kidding, Liv. You should’ve seen your face, though. It was pretty good.” I groan and sit in my chair, ignoring him until he finally takes the hint and walks away. I’m not sure if he went to open the pool or not, and I hardly care. On a usual Wednesday, the building is a ghost town. I open the doors and let in the first few early morning studs so they can cram in their workout before going to their day jobs.
I spend half an hour searching Jake’s name and sifting through pictures of his brothers and his mother. I even see a few of him at various events, but not nearly the same as his family. I don’t learn much about him other than exactly what Caitlyn told me before.
I guess she was right about the simple internet search.
After I finish watering the plants in the reception area, the bell for the front door rings.
“Well, hey there, gorgeous. Have I told you that you’re the sexiest of the White daughters? Not that it’s enough for me, but—” Sam’s slimy voice oozes, and I feel the stings of ice in my veins as he gets closer. “—you know, you’re not good enough for me anymore now that you’re fucking that no-name riff raff. You’re tainted goods now, baby.”
Smack.
It isn’t that sentence that makes me turn around and slap him across the face—it’s my newfound courage. Something I didn’t have when my attacker lunged at me. Once my hand follows through with my heart, the sting on my palm is probably nothing compared to the red mark across his formerly smug face. Sam stands in front of me, stunned and gradually getting angry.
“Don’t you ever touch me again,” he snaps, getting close to my face. “Or someone kidnapping you will be the least of your worries.”
“What did you say?”
His laugh is dark and scary. “I’d watch out if I were you, Olivia White. You never know what’s behind the next corner for you.” Before I can ask him what he means, he’s escaping toward the weight rooms, out of eyesight.
Hours pass before I think about Sam again; I figure he must have slipped out the back door because I didn’t see him walk past me again. Then Brant saunters toward the front desk with a pizza in his hands.
“Pepperoni and extra cheese from Sal’s…you know you want some.” He winks and opens the box in front of me on the counter. The steam tickles my nose. “I’ll only share with you if you forgive me for earlier.”
I lick my lips. “Okay, I forgive you.” I snag a slice from the box. The warm, gooey goodness melts in my mouth as Brant and I eat in silence. I watch him pull two bottles of water from the mini-fridge in the lobby, and he hands me one.
“I know sometimes I can come on a little strong with people,” he says after gulping half of the bottle. “I just didn’t grow up with a lot of positivity around me, and I overcompensate by just being…extra.” I don’t know anything about his past, only that he recently graduated and moved from the Midwest somewhere the day after he walked across the stage.
“It’s fine. You just need to learn how to be aware of other people’s emotions.” I smile because he really is just a sad, lonely kid. “I like being your friend, Brant. You’re a good person, you have morals and values, and you’re pretty funny sometimes.”
“I am?” His eyes glow like Christmas lights.
I meet his eyes and give him a look to calm down. “Sometimes. Just be yourself, the best version of yourself that you want to be. Don’t be someone just because another person thinks you should be different, okay?”
“Whoa, Liv.” His voice is a little weak. “That’s pretty deep.”
I take a small, white piece of paper from my desk and hold it in the air for Brant to see. “Fortune cookie, about six months old.” The both of us start laughing hysterically, and I have to close the pizza box so we don’t snort all over the rest of the food. I feel the desk vibrating, and Brant points toward the computer, where my phone is ringing.
“Your boyfriend is calling you.” He stifles his laughter. “I’ll let you get that. Do you want a soda?”
I shake my head and pick up the buzzing phone. “No thanks. I’ll say goodbye before my shift is over.” I wave him off and hit the answer button on the screen. “I haven’t even been gone for five hours and you’re already calling me. What happened?”
Jake’s deep voice is sleepy, and his words are slurring, like he’d taken a painkiller and it’s already starting to take effect. He chuckles, and I hear his body shuffling around in my bed.
“Is it so hard to believe that I miss you already? Can you come back now?” His yawn is loud.
“You know I can’t come home. I get off work in three hours…can you wait for me?”
His deep laugh tickles my insides, and I blush, looking around to make sure no one’s watching me lose my cool. “You know I’ll always wait for you, Bug.”
“Oka
y, get some sleep.”
“I’m serious. Why don’t you take me seriously?” I wonder if I should hang up and let him fall asleep, hoping that he won’t remember anything when I get back home. I know that’s a long shot, so I bite my bottom lip, listening to his plea for me. “I just wish that sometimes you remembered, you know?”
I suck in air, nearly choking. “Remember what?”
“Nothing. I should sleep now,” he quickly says before clearing his throat. “I’ll see you later, okay? Be careful on your way home.” He hangs up without saying goodbye or anything else remotely close to making me feel better about the elusiveness he just displayed. I always feel like Jake knows something I don’t, like he knows my life better than I do, and that’s scary, not to mention impossible.
Still, I can’t shake what he said for the rest of my shift. The clock slowly ticks the time away because it knows I’m itching to get back to Jake. I decide that I’m going to straightforwardly ask him what he meant by that, even though I know in my heart of hearts that he’s going to evade the question and act like he doesn’t remember.
I just wish that sometimes you remembered.
I wave goodbye to Brant; he stays behind to talk to some of his friends, and the cold air rushes through my bones the moment I step outside. The parking lot is still fairly empty; the after-work crowd hasn’t shown up yet. As I shuffle my feet toward where I parked the car and search my bag for the keys, I don’t see him until it’s too late.
“I bet you think you’re smart, don’t you?” His growl meets me before I see him. “You’re going to pay for humiliating me in there, Liv.” Sam’s eyes are dark and cold—no one’s around for me to yell for help. The anger in his eyes alerts me that I’ll need some. He steps closer, and a wicked smile paints his strained lips. “You don’t have anyone to save you now—where’s your boyfriend when you need him? He’s saved you once from a bad guy, but can he save you twice?” Sam licks his lips, and I want to gag, but I keep my distance.
