Devil Creek

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Devil Creek Page 17

by Bond, Casey L.


  Chelsea moves across to the sink, grabbing a towel, which she uses to dry Aislin’s hair and body as best as she can. She guides her out of the shower and back to the bedside. Aislin is instructed to stand with arms outstretched. Chelsea quickly and efficiently wraps her ribs and chest back up, helps her into her underwear and then ties on a clean hospital gown. Aislin is so exhausted at the end of her shower and re-wrapping that she is almost about to collapse. Her knees begin to crumble and she grasps the edge of the bed.

  “Easy. I’ve got you. We’re all done. Now you can rest, babe.” Chelsea might be way to chipper, but the girl is strong and can wrap a body quicker than the ancient Egyptians. With a wave and a promise to check back on her in a bit, Chelsea exits the room and Aislin pulls the scratchy cover up under her chin and drifts off to sleep.

  †

  Human. The next morning Aislin feels like a human again. Her hair has been washed and smells clean, as does her body. Both are now finally free of blood. Her blood. She is able to walk, although her bruises make every movement hurt. Even her fractured ribs feel good in a strange sort of way. She’s alive. She has survived. The pain reminds her that the events of late hadn’t been a nightmare. It reminds her that her past is real.

  As she begins to close her eyes and drift off to sleep again, to the sound of the machine beeping steadily in her ear, a commotion erupts outside her door. The door is thrown open and Gabe bounds into the room, followed by Parker and Amy, and then Ty and Ella. Though, Aislin is startled awake and tired, she’s never been happier in her life. Her friends are all here. The people who love her.

  Tears flow freely, carving warm paths down her face. They drip off of her chin and onto her ugly hospital gown. Her friends hug and kiss her face. They chatter excitedly, all thankful that their friend has been found alive and returned to them. Ella sits beside her on the bed, her arm around Aislin’s shoulders; Aislin’s head on her shoulder. Aislin can only sit, smile and sob. She is unable to even formulate words. Thankful is on the tip of her tongue and in her heart.

  Happiness and relief, tears and laughter fill the room. The friends stay with her until she is released from the hospital two days and one psychological evaluation later.

  Chapter 16

  Two weeks later...

  Gabe exits his Toyota Tacoma and lowers the tailgate of his truck. He grabs all of the grocery bags and heads toward Aislin’s house. It feels great to have Mac home, to be able to see, to no longer have to worry about Stone. Many of the worries of the past couple of months have disappeared, only to have been replaced by a new one. Mac. She still isn’t right. Gabe has talked to her. Amy and Parker have tried. Melissa has tried to reason with her. Hell, even Jaxon had made the attempt. She wouldn’t listen to any of them. She wouldn’t even listen to Ella or Ty. Asshole has been hanging around for two weeks.

  Mac needs help. She needs to talk to someone. Someone professional, but she refuses. Flat out. No discussion. Nothing. If anyone brings it up, she shuts down. When changing the subject doesn’t work, she leaves the room altogether. She barely sleeps. When she does, the nightmares come. She locks her doors and windows, draws the blinds. She refuses to go running. Hell, she’s barely left her house. Gabe and Amy have been going to the grocery store for her and running any errands necessary. It’s not that Gabriel can’t empathize with her. He’s just worried. It’s like the light in her eyes is gone. And, he doesn’t know how to bring it back. Doesn’t know how to bring her back.

  He rings the doorbell and waits until he hears the three deadbolts slide out of their sheaths and the door open. Aislin peeks out at him wearily, but a small smile appears when she sees him. Bashful is something Mac has never been. She looks away, sheepishly and holds the door open for him. She puts away the groceries, while he goes back to the truck for another bunch of bags.

  Aislin cooks dinner for Gabriel. He is staying the night, as Ella and Ty left earlier this morning, leaving Aislin a sobbing mess for the rest of the day. Aislin chops and arranges a fresh garden salad to pair with the bubbling, white fettuccini alfredo on the stove-top. Gabe is nervous. He needs to handle Mac with care. She is fragile. Breakable and ready to shatter completely. He is scared that if she does, he’ll never be able to piece her together again and his Mac will be lost to him.

  Dinner is spent in companionable silence. The clinking of forks and the squeaking of Gabriel’s wooden chair as he reaches for a piece of garlic bread is the only sound in the house. Cabernet sits still in stemmed glasses. Beads form and then drip slowly down the outside of the glasses of ice water.

  Aislin clears the table and Gabriel helps her load the dishwasher and put away the leftover food. He grabs a rag, wets it under the faucet and then proceeds to wipe down the table. When he turns around, Mac is gone. Looking down the hallway, he can see her bedroom door is closed. Then, Gabriel hears the water from the shower turn on. He sighs deeply, tossing the rag in the sink. He sinks into the couch and scrubs his hands down his face. A few minutes later, the water shuts off and the house is silent again. For a moment, anyway.

  “Gabe.” He hears Aislin call out for him from her bedroom. Gabriel makes it to her door in record time.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Aislin is standing just outside her bathroom door. A plush purple towel is wrapped around her slender frame, hiding the curves that Gabriel knows lurk beneath it. Her long auburn hair has been combed at some point, but look wild and wet against her pale skin. The skin beneath her eyes is red and slightly swollen. She’s been crying. Gabe rushes over and gently grabs her upper arms, holding her away from him as he looks her over.

  “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

  She shakes her head. Tears flood her beautiful teal eyes. When she opens her mouth, the saliva forms a bubble, which bursts when she begins to speak.

  “I feel him everywhere. I can’t scrub enough to erase his damn hands on me,” she sobs. Gabe gathers her in his arms and holds on tight.

  “What do you need, Mac? How can I help?” His chin knocks gently into her head with each syllable.

  “Make me forget him, Gabe. Please?” She looks up at him pleadingly, begging for his touch. How could he refuse her? Maybe this would make it better. Make her better. Bring her back to him. He cups her face gently before brushing his lips over hers, feather-light and with the promise of more intimacy to come.

  Aislin crushes her lips onto his as he tangles his fingers into her warm, wet hair and pushes hard on her back, molding her body’s soft curves with his strength. Feminine meeting masculine in a sensual dance. The floral notes of her shampoo float into the air around them. He backs out of the bathroom, maneuvers her over to the bed and lowers her onto the fluffy white down mattress before spending the rest of the night making her forget.

  †

  When Aislin finally pries her eyes open, it is clearly afternoon, given the amount of sunlight forcing its way through her cream-colored bedroom blinds. She stretches languidly and touches her lips, remembering the velvety firmness of Gabe’s. The night had been perfection. Unadulterated passion, as evidenced by the small red stain on her white sheets beneath her. She had lost her virginity. To Gabe. To her best friend in the world and the man she loved more than anything else. Her goal had been to simply erase the memory of Jeremiah Stone’s hands upon her body. Where his had been greedy and rough, taking, Gabe’s were generous, soft and giving. He had treated her body as if it were a thing to be worshipped and adored, not bruised and battered and it had made all of the difference.

  Deputy Clark had called yesterday and told her that they had arrested Stone after he was involved in an accident. He’d been driving while intoxicated. The judge had revoked his bail. There would be a grand jury hearing on the evidence gathered from her house and upon the counts against him for the assault and death of Rick Peterson. They could hold him now for the DUI and pin him to the wall for Peterson and for her assault and attempted rape.

  Aislin is sore. Not from the assault but from spe
nding the night with Gabe. The two had spent hours exploring one another, learning one another, loving one another like never before.

  Aislin smiles at the memories of last night. Of Gabriel’s strong body, softened by the flickering light of the candles. But this morning, Gabriel is nowhere in sight. No scents emanate from the kitchen. No bacon or eggs. No sounds ring out through the house. Aislin wraps her robe around her and secures its belt before venturing down the stairs. Nothing. He’s gone. He couldn’t really be gone, gone. Maybe he went back to Parker’s. Or out to get breakfast? Maybe he ran to the grocery store. He would be back soon. Her heart thunders as she clutches her robe in front of her. That damned instinct was back. And, unfortunately, she believes it.

  Maybe he went running, muses her shoulder’s tiny white angel. The tiny demon on her other shoulder agrees, nodding her head, grinning maniacally. The angel is right. He is running. Running away again. Running from her. He’s gone and she knows it. But, this time, she won’t chase him. This time, if he runs away from the love she offers him freely, she will let him go.

  Chapter 17

  Three years and nearly nine months later...

  This place hasn’t changed at all. Gabriel Church drives his white GMC Suburban along Route 52. His aviators shade his still sun-sensitive eyes. He hasn’t been back in almost four years. Not since the night he spent with Mac. He hadn’t called or texted. Hadn’t spoken via Skype. No visits, nothing. He had woken in the early morning hours, when all was still and dark. He’d dressed, slipped quietly down the steps, grabbed his keys and locked the door, pulling it closed behind him. And, he’d felt like an absolute bastard. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face her. He had been a coward. She’d loved him, given him everything. But, he didn’t accept it, didn’t realize that it wasn’t wrong, that he wouldn’t betray Declan’s memory or his wishes by loving her. Lord above, he knew it now. He’d missed her. He’d lain awake at night and thought of her, of what it would be like to see her again, to hold her. Of one thing he’s sure, if Mac sees him now, he figures she won’t hesitate to backhand his sorry ass for leaving her alone. Alone for almost four years.

  He pulls into the left turn only lane and waits for opposing traffic to clear before making his turn onto Devil Creek. He’d spoken with Parker for the first time in a year and a half the other day and Parker had persuaded him to come and visit. Since he’d left, they’d discovered that Amy was unable to bear children. After wading through the red tape of the U.S. adoption system, they had finally been able to adopt a young girl. Parker had texted Gabe a picture of Madeline, a young, vibrant dark-haired girl with freckles smattered on her nose and mischievous brown eyes. Her still-somewhat chubby cheek was pressed up against Parker’s as she hugged his neck tightly. As he pulls into the Harrison’s driveway, he exhales a pent up breath. Putting the SUV in park, he exits the vehicle. Here goes nothing. He doesn’t even get to the first step before the front door swings open wide. Parker and Amy bound down the steps. Amy drags someone behind her. He catches his first glimpse of Madeline. The first time he sees his little cousin in person, she grins ornery from behind her mother’s legs and hips.

  †

  Gabriel spends most of his day next to or in the pool with Parker, Amy and Madeline. Easton, Melissa and Donovan had even joined them in the afternoon. When Gabe had inquired about Jaxon, everyone had laughed before filling him in. Jaxon had moved to Florida with a woman he’d met on the internet. Love at first sight, apparently. Parker had described the woman as a ‘cougar’ and said she probably already resided at one of those retirement communities for the elderly. “Sugar Mama,” added Melissa, waggling her eyebrows.

  It is Saturday, the twenty-eighth -of July and it is sweltering. West Virginia is in the middle of an unusual heat wave which has brought about a severe drought in the region. Devil Creek itself is almost completely bone dry and it’s fairly large.

  Easton and his family say their goodbyes and Melissa tells Amy that she and Donovan will be back later for movie night with the kids. Parker, Easton and Gabe have plans. Parker’s declared that since Gabriel is back in town, it’s guys night out. Where better to go than to The Barn?

  At 10:38pm, the trio pull into the parking lot. Easton is the designated driver and Melissa swore to castrate him for any indication of noncompliance. He obviously values his testicles, because he orders a bottle of water from the bar. The Barn is packed. All the tables are full. The dance floor is packed with gyrating bodies. Servers wind through the crowd delivering drinks, taking payments and tips, before heading back again. The air conditioners pour cool air into the atmosphere, but it’s almost immediately churned and turned warm with the amount of people in the place. They sure don’t seem to mind. And neither does Gabriel.

  He keeps lookout from the corners of his eyes. He hasn’t seen her yet. Maybe she won’t show tonight. Parker and Easton regale him with stories of the past few years, show him picture after picture of Madeline and Donovan on their phones. He notices that several pictures show another little girl in them, but he isn’t sure who she is, and he’s ashamed to ask. Gabriel knows he was in the wrong. He’d shut them out, too.

  A new permanent stage has been built in the far corner of The Barn, where a young guy starts to strum a guitar and tap a microphone. The crowd, who’d been moving to the music a D.J. had been providing up until that point, goes crazy. They start jumping and pushing toward the stage, all anxious to get as close as possible.

  “Who’s that?” Gabe asks, nodding toward the guy on stage. He is young. Maybe 25. His hair is black, or at least it looks like it in this lighting. It’s cut a little long, but curls around his ears and neck line. Reminds Gabe of Keith Urban’s hair. Kind of shaggy and unruly. But cool. He wears jeans, boots and a black t-shirt. Part of some sort of tribal tattoo winds down one bicep. And, he has his bottom lip pierced. Typical musician.

  “That would be Jude.” Parker says, pointing the mouth of his Bud Light toward the guy. The crowd erupts as he steps forward and says a few things. Gabe’s attention, focused on whatever story Easton is telling, leaves the stage area. Guitar chords fill the air. Soon a skinny hippie-looking dude with a bandana, long stringy brown hair and matching beard, sits down behind the drums and joins with the guitar. A bald guy steps onto the stage and adds the bass. Jude begins to sing. And, damn. The dude can really sing. He’s really good, Gabriel thinks to himself.

  Gabriel hears her before he sees her. Her smoky alto settles over the crowd like fog. Her voice mixes with Jude’s in a hauntingly beautiful melody. He recognizes the song immediately, “The One That Got Away” from The Civil Wars, Mac’s favorite band.

  His eyes take her in. Her bright purple skinny jeans, black lace top, and black leather boots that stretch to her knee. Dog tags that hang down, calling attention to her cleavage, which is freaking on display. Gabe grits his teeth. Every damn male in the room is salivating over her assets. And, that’s exactly what they are. He remembered the weight and petal softness under his palm and mouth. Jude and Aislin worked the stage, belting out lyrics at times and restraining the passion of their words at other. At the end of the song, Jude grabs Aislin and pulls her to him, before kissing her soundly on the lips.

  Parker and Easton both look shocked as Gabe launches to his feet, sending the wooden chair he’d just occupied flying across the floor. They look at each other, and jump up, each grabbing an arm, holding Gabe back. The pair manage to drag their cousin outside in order to talk some sense into him.

  “Damn it, Gabe. Just calm down!” Parker says, releasing his arm. Easton follows Parker’s lead and releases the other. Gabe paces back and forth, raking both hands through his hair.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? You knew she would be here! Why didn’t you tell me she was with someone else?”

  Parker shakes his head at his cousin. “Look, Gabe. I love you, man. Yes, I knew she would be here. I expected it. She’s been singing here with Jude for a while. But, what I didn’t count on was your react
ion. What did you expect? Did you expect her to wait on you for four years while you got your shit together? You have no idea what that girl in there has been through since then. You left. You left her. She moved on. You have to lie in the bed you made now, brother. A hell of a lot has changed.” He clapped Gabriel’s shoulder.

  “Fuck!” Gabe screams into the night before punching the metal door panel of Easton’s Ford F-250. He knew his cousin was right. Had he expected her to wait on him? Maybe. But, that was neither fair to Mac nor realistic. And, he would have to deal with the changes he’d caused. Along with the fact that he’d caused them by walking out.

  †

  On the afternoon of Sunday, July twenty-ninth, Aislin busily bounces from task to task around her house. She wipes the counters, again. She hangs streamers from the pergola Jude had constructed atop her back porch last summer. That’s how they’d met. She and Gabby had been visiting Amy and Madeline for a Pedi-party in the Harrison’s sunroom. The girls, though not extremely close in age, had played well together. Last year, Madeline had been five and Gabby barely two. Fortunately, Maddy seemed to understand that Gabby was smaller and therefore, more fragile. She’d always been gentle and even somewhat mothering to the younger girl. Amy had purchased four-count packs of blingy tiaras, faux-pearl necklaces, enormous fake diamond rings and bracelets. The foursome even sported pink and purple feather boas. It was a little girl’s dream come true. Amy and Aislin had painted tiny finger and toe nails, brushed sparkly pink blush and eye-shadow onto the delicate skin of their eyes and cheeks and finished the look with metallic baby pink lipstick. Madeline had wanted to prove how ‘big’ she’d gotten and put her lipstick on by herself, without the assistance of a mirror. She had smiled, so proud of her accomplishment when completed. Amy, Aislin and Gabby had clapped for her, eliciting a deep bow from her highness.

 

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