Bleed Through

by Arrington, Adriana

  Five hundred and twelve steps to go and then he’d be home.

  Isaac scrutinized Liam as he slouched through the living room. Oblivious of the trail of sand he left in his wake, his stepson shuffled through the house in bare feet. He’d come home without shoes, unaware he’d lost them at some point. His shorts, dark with salt water, clung to his thighs.

  Liam’s long jaunt to the beach after hearing the news report had been no coincidence. Somehow, he was involved with Stuart’s death. Allison knew it too, though she did her best to deny it. She’d put on forties band music in a desperate bid to lift her spirits and busied herself in the kitchen. But no amount of distractions could conceal the truth. Schizophrenia had finally won. They’d lost Liam to his illness.

  Though he should’ve called Security Forces with his suspicions, Isaac didn’t. He refused to invite the police into their lives. And as much as he’d like Liam out of his house, he’d hoped for a more positive departure.

  The authorities would piece together the evidence soon enough. They didn’t need a head start. He gave Liam three or four days before a legal system increasingly terrified of people like him buried him alive. Any hope for a semi-independent future had vanished.

  He had failed Liam.

  FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 26th

  iam felt like a total creeper, people-watching for hours on end in Isaac’s SUV. Despite the sticky heat that long before had forced him to roll down the windows, he wore a black hoodie, slouching under its protection. Sweat dripped down his temples.

  Not allowed to drive since the “incident” with Tasha, he’d sneaked out of the house in the early morning hours and taken Isaac’s vehicle. He hated to inconvenience his mother, but he’d needed to leave. He’d spent a sleepless night debating whether he’d seen a premonition of Stuart’s murder or merely created a complex delusion he alone could resolve. The latter option reflected textbook schizophrenic behavior. The former was difficult to believe, even for him.

  If he had any hope of untangling his mind, he needed to bounce his new theory off somebody who wouldn’t immediately chalk up his visions to mental illness. His diagnosis colored everybody’s perception of him. Everybody, that is, except for one person.

  Mai.

  So here he sat, waiting by the community college library, watching fresh-faced students parading in and out of its silver doors. Mai hadn’t showed. A number of reasons could explain her absence. Maybe she felt sick. Maybe she avoided the library because it reminded her of his freaky visions. Maybe she’d already come and gone.

  Or, maybe she’d never existed in the first place.

  Liam slumped over the steering wheel and glanced at his watch. Ten-fifty a.m.

  A group of women walked up the sidewalk to the library. They wore the typical Florida student uniform, tank tops and indecently short shorts with flip-flops. He craned his neck to get a better view.

  None of them was Mai.

  The late morning heat roasted the car’s interior. He pushed back in his seat and placed the key in the ignition. Time to leave. It’d been a fool’s errand, coming here and thinking Mai existed. He turned the key and placed his hand on the gearshift when a harsh knock on the car door startled him. Yelping, he hopped up an inch and raised both hands to his chest in a defensive posture.

  “Not a very manly sound, Liam. I’d even classify it as a little girl scream,” Mai said. She leaned into the car, and her arms rested on the open window. Her typically bright eyes had lost their gleam. Dark bags lined her eye sockets.

  “You know this is weird, even for troubled white boys, right?” She nodded at his sweat drenched black hoodie.

  His breath caught, and the world stopped for one beautiful second. Mai was real. When he could manage forming words, he said, “I sort of specialize in weird.”

  “That you do.” She reached down, unlocked the passenger side door, and opened it. Then she hopped into the SUV and pumped the A/C to high. The vents blasted mildew-tinged cold air through her short hair.

  “This your stepdad’s car?” she asked. She looked at the dashboard and not him.

  “Yeah. I borrowed it for the day.” The SUV started quieter than the Hyundai and wouldn’t awaken his family.

  “So where have you holed up these past few weeks?” She shot him a look from the corner of her eye one could almost interpret as hurt. “You had me worried, what with a murderer chasing after you and all. I haven’t slept through the night since you went missing.”

  “I had some family issues to sort through.”

  She barked out a laugh. “We’ve all got family issues. But most of us still call our friends and attend, or at least pretend to attend, classes while we work our way through them.”

  He reached out a tentative hand toward her and placed it lightly on her forearm.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should’ve called or texted. I got so wrapped up in my own mind I lost touch for a while.” He tried to keep a straight face. He didn’t exactly lie. More like told the understatement of the year.

  She held his gaze for a long moment before breaking it. She folded her arms tightly, and pulling away from his touch, stared out the open window.

  “Don’t do it again, okay? Thanh would kill me if she knew I was even speaking with you.”

  He gulped back any further excuses and nodded.

  “So why did you come back?” She continued to avoid eye contact.

  “Other than to see you?”

  She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth tugged up slightly.

  “I’m in over my head with this whole imprint thing. I need your help.”

  Her head whipped around to face his. He had her attention now. “Did you see a new one?” she asked.

  “Did you watch the news yesterday?”

  Her eyes widened. “The man found on Shell Island?”

  “He’s the man I saw murdered.” The hoodie’s strings tangled in his fingers.

  “But isn’t this what we wanted? The police have a body now. They’ll have to believe you.” She sat up straight and tapped the dashboard with her pointer finger.

  “Not likely. I still don’t have any proof. There’s also the little problem of elapsed time between my vision and Stuart’s death.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I saw Cull kill Stuart a month ago. He just went missing from work yesterday.”

  Her finger stopped tapping. “So what’re you saying? You couldn’t have seen the murder?”

  He rubbed the steering wheel. “I’m saying I saw the murder before it happened.”

  “What? You saw the future?” Mai’s eyebrows knit together so closely they almost formed a unibrow.

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but nothing else makes sense.” He tugged on his hair, still damp with perspiration.

  She slumped in her seat. “Well… that puts a new spin on the situation.”

  “There’s more. The murderer knows I know. He also knows where I live. I think he might be coming after me.” Liam sucked in his breath after this latest revelation. Would she see through it and know how insane he was?

  She did not.

  “Then you need to get him arrested. You’ve got to contact the police,” she said.

  “We’ve discussed this. They won’t believe me.”

  “Ugh! Why does this have to be hard?” She pounded her fist on the armrest. “The only option left is to run.”

  Liam clutched his stomach as a spasm of pain ricocheted through it. Deep down, he agreed with her. He had to leave Florida. His absence would be better for everybody. For his mother, for Tasha, for Mai. Much as he hated to leave any of them, the idea of losing his psychologist terrified him. He’d never find another therapist as perfect as Dr. Jen. She tethered him to reality and helped keep him sane.

  Mai concentrated on her perfectly pedicured feet. “I’ll help you. We can leave tonight. I’ll stay with you for a few weeks until you get situated.”

  His breath hitched. “You believe me so
much you’d pause your whole life and run away with me? You don’t think I’m living in a fantasy world?”

  “Of course not.” She looked up. “You’re my friend, and I promised I wouldn’t abandon you. I keep my promises.”

  He fought to keep from blinking. If he did, Mai might disappear. He’d scarcely allowed himself to believe she was real, much less that she’d sacrifice her happy and organized life to be with him.

  Grateful didn’t seem a large enough word to encapsulate his emotions. His pulse raced and his arms shook as he leaned toward her face. Would her lips still feel the way he remembered?

  A harsh snicker threw cold water on their heat, and his lips froze mere centimeters from hers.

  “So you thought you’d show up and pretend like the last few weeks didn’t happen, huh?” His car window framed a daffodil-yellow sundress suspended off bony shoulders.

  Thanh had found them. She raised tortoise-shell sunglasses to give him a better look at the scorn in her eyes.

  His face dropped. “I’m sorry. I told Mai I’m sorry, too. I messed up.”

  Thanh ignored him and glowered at Mai. “How can you forgive him for dropping you like a bad habit? All the texts and calls he ignored? You worried about him for weeks. He doesn’t deserve you.”

  “I make my own decisions.” Mai tilted up her chin. “I don’t need you bullying me about who I choose to see.”

  Thanh’s face reddened. She stepped away from the car and flung her hands in the air. “You’ll see soon enough, Mai. Liam is bad for you. He’ll only bring you misery. I can’t support your choice to be with him. I’ll be waiting for you when he screws up again. I suspect that’ll be sooner rather than later.” Her long, black hair swung as she turned and stomped away.

  Liam and Mai sat in silence before he extended his hand toward her face, stopping short of caressing her lips.

  “Thanh’s right. No good will come of this. You can’t throw away your life for me.” He bit the inside of his lip, hoping he didn’t convince her of her stupidity.

  “So now you’re going to tell me what I can do?” Her eyes blazed with anger.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. It’s just… you don’t know the whole story. Some sides of me can be tough to handle.”

  “This is news how?”

  He swallowed hard. “My condition is more serious than it looks.”

  She clasped his hand and pulled it to her cheek. Her soft skin rested in his palm.

  “I think I’ve got an elementary understanding of what I’m getting myself into. And don’t get ahead of yourself. Remember, I’m just going with you for a couple of weeks. I’m coming back to finish up my degree.”

  He knew better than to accept her offer. She had no idea how much life could change in a short period of time, nor did she understand the difficulties facing them. What she probably considered “quirks” would devolve into full-blown obsessions once she understood their depths. But by the time she discovered what kind of man he really was, it would be too late. She’d be fully committed.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said.

  She smiled, sorrow and hope and love all wrapped up into one expression. She closed the space between them and kissed him. His lips trembled with hesitation, but Mai traced his jawline with her fingertips, and his uncertainty melted under the heat of anticipation. Wishing he could lose his mind to Mai’s wiles and not mental illness, he pulled away.

  “Take the day to get your stuff together. We’ll meet tonight at 4:00 a.m. in the parking lot of the buffet restaurant off Magnolia Avenue. I trust you know the place?”

  “You know I do.” She winked at him and reached for the door handle. “You’re worth it, Liam Murphy.”

  Guilt consumed him as she walked away. She couldn’t nurse him back to health with affection and positive thinking. Others had tried and failed.

  She didn’t know it yet, but she’d just taken her future and massacred it.

  n the drive back to Tyndall, Liam focused on the positives. This time tomorrow morning, he’d be out of Isaac’s house and independent again. No longer would Tasha and his mother be held captive to his mental state. Most importantly, the vision he’d had of Cull strangling Tasha wouldn’t happen now. With him gone, Cull would have no reason to hurt her.

  Sunlight glinted off the silver trunk of the car in front of him, blinding him with its glare. He rummaged around the console for his sunglasses and shoved them on. Ten-dollar specials from a gas station, he’d scratched up the lens the day after buying them. He’d meant to replace them a hundred times but never remembered their flaws until he placed them on his face. They’d have to do. Cheap shades or not, they’d keep him from squinting for the next hour.

  Sun-drenched shopping centers filled with generic box stores flashed by as he settled into his drive. In twelve short hours, he’d be gone.

  If he’d paid closer attention, and hadn’t thought about Mai or Cull or how to keep his medication refilled while on the run, he would’ve noticed that just before the upcoming intersection sat a florist shop with an orange cat curled by its front door. In its door hung a sign proclaiming, “Homecoming Specials!”

  Instead, he drove through the intersection obsessing about a particularly conspicuous scratch on his sunglasses, totally unprepared for the savage punch that jerked his head to the left. The seatbelt bit into his chest as his car twisted through the intersection and smashed into a Jeep waiting at a red light.

  Save for his rapid heartbeat, sound disappeared. Liam stared straight ahead, shock slowing his reaction time. The absurd idea that a giant had stepped down and clipped the car, smashing all its parts and pieces to shrapnel, flittered across his brain. Then his senses returned, and he realized he’d been in an accident. Isaac’s ruined SUV faced the middle of the intersection, where smoke rose from a Town Car’s crumpled hood in alarming black tendrils.

  He turned, head and neck aching from whiplash, and inspected the rear of his car. A mess of metal, shattered glass, and upholstery had replaced the backseat. Only the driver’s seat had escaped unscathed.

  Damn.

  he young policeman tipped his stiff trooper hat in agitation. He wore a scraggly mustache that Liam’s neglected stubble put to shame. His golden nametag “King” shined with exquisite care. The initial swarm of police cruisers, ambulances, and fire trucks responding to the accident had now died down to Officer King’s sedan. The other emergency vehicles had trickled away once they discovered there’d been no significant injuries in the accident.

  “You’re sure you didn’t run the light, sir?” Officer King asked.

  “Positive,” said Liam.

  He wasn’t, really. The seconds preceding the accident blurred into fuzzy and indistinct memories. Besides his preoccupation with the sunglasses, he’d been on autopilot, thinking more about 4:00 a.m. than the road in front of him.

  But it helped he’d seen the accident, albeit a day prior and from a different vantage point. An elderly woman had run her Lincoln Town Car through a red light and crashed into the side of Isaac’s SUV, which had spun out of control and into a Jeep.

  The policeman shifted from foot to foot. Long ago, he’d excused the other drivers from their interviews. Liam bet neither one of them had a felony charge on their records for attempted armed robbery.

  Officer King wanted to pin the accident on him. He could sense something off about Liam. But disappointment visits everybody, and today it called on the officer.

  “May I leave? My mother’s waited over an hour for me.” Liam pointed to a beige sports car. Unfortunately, it belonged to Mrs. Channer. Allison sat inside with the windows rolled down and her left arm hanging out.

  Officer King flipped through his notebook and scrutinized each account, looking for a deviation that would allow him to place the blame on Liam. He clicked his boot heel on the pavement and snapped the notebook shut. “You’re free to go. However, we’ll contact you if and when any new evidence comes to light.”

 
I’m sure you will.

  Liam smiled broadly at the policeman. Officer King’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t care. He’d be gone in less than a day. Let the cop hate him as much as he liked.

  The door to Mrs. Channer’s car burned his fingertips as he swung it open. His mother had parked under direct sunlight while waiting for him in the miserably hot afternoon.

  He poked his head in the stifling automobile. “Why are you driving Mrs. Channer’s car?”

  “Why were you driving Isaac’s?” Allison countered, her tone hard and angry.

  The smell of baby powder wafted in Liam’s face as he lowered into the passenger’s seat. A scented car freshener in the shape of a tree dangled from the rearview mirror. He flicked it with his fingers. “I’m sorry. I wanted to visit a friend.”

  She shifted the gear into drive and rolled out of the parking lot. “Does this ‘friend’ have anything to do with Stuart Laughlin?”

  Shamed by his mother’s suspicions, he jutted out his jaw. “No.”

  She rubbed bloodshot eyes and sighed. “Why did you have to pick today, of all days, to sneak out and wreck the car, Liam? Why isn’t life ever easy with you? Can’t I get one bit of bad news at a time?”

  His heart skipped a beat. “What happened? Is Tasha okay?”

  Tears ran down her face. “Tasha’s fine, but Grandpa had a stroke last night. Your sister has to come home. Grammy can’t take care of her since she’ll be spending all her time at the hospital.” Silent sobs shook her shoulders.

  He’d loved his grandparents once. Part of him still did. But the intervening years and their neglect had watered down the emotion.

  He struggled to find the proper response and settled for a lame, “I’m sorry.”

  A car full of teenage guys drove parallel to them, staring at Allison with faces full of genuine dismay at her sorrow. One shot Liam the stink eye, assuming he’d caused her grief. Most of the time, the kid would be right. But not today. At least, not completely. Liam flipped him off.