by Angie Martin
But, Wyatt could get me through. Aubrie said it would be acceptable to leave the house with him, for him. Despite this, I wish I could recall the text.
Too late. My phone beeps, announcing a new text. Why is he still up to get my text and respond? That’s not fair. He should have at least given me the rest of the night to reconsider my agreement and weasel out of it. Now, he’s answered me, and there’s no going back.
I pick up my phone and read the text. I’ll pick you up at 7 on Friday. I can’t wait to see you.
Even though my insides curdle with nerves, I squeal with delight like a teenager going on her first date. My mind roams through the memory of my closet, already picking out what to wear.
Chapter Three
Running my palms over my pleated black skirt, up my sides, and over my semi-casual shirt, I tuck my lower lip between my teeth while cocking my head to the side. It’s been years since I’ve been on a date and cared what I look like. Twisting my hair into a bun, I turn my head from side to side, debating on if I should wear it up or down. Nerves knot my insides, as I let my hair fall to my shoulders and shrug, deciding to wear it natural. The chime of the doorbell sounds, cementing my feet to the freshly polished wood floors in my bedroom. My eyes fall to my bedside alarm clock. He’s early, I think, before taking one last look in the mirror. I grab my purse from the edge of my bed and scurry down the stairs, doubt circling in my mind the entire time.
I feel the blood pumping through my arteries, as I unlock each deadbolt, no doubt raising my blood pressure. What am I doing? I can’t go out there. I unlatch the last lock and slide the door open. With his back turned, I see a bouquet of red roses clasped in Wyatt’s hands. When he turns to face me, it’s as if he’s moving in slow motion. First, I see the dimple in his chin and the corners around his mouth wrinkle with a sideways smile that warms the pit of my stomach. I haven’t felt this way about a guy since Spencer, and the feelings surprise me.
“You look incredible,” he says, when he’s finally eye to eye with me.
“You smell so good.” The words shoot from my mouth before I can think of what I’m saying. “Come in, and I’ll get those in water.” I rush him in, partly because I know the flowers need arranging, but mostly because having the door open this long terrifies me. How will I take the first step outside if I can barely handle having the door to the outside open for a few seconds?
Wyatt steps past me and into the safety of my home. He faces the door and secures the locks. This simple act on his part shows concern for my well-being and further deepens the ease he brings over me.
“I’ll, ahh, get these in water,” I say, reaching out for the flowers. “They’re really beautiful. Thank you.” The shyness in my own voice stifles me.
“Lovely flowers for an equally radiant beauty.”
“You’re trying to charm me, and we haven’t even left the house yet.”
“I charmed you a long time ago.”
He’s absolutely right. He captured me the moment I first looked into his jade eyes.
Walking to the kitchen, I hear his footsteps behind me. In my mind, I play out fifty different reasons why I should ask Wyatt if we can settle on the couch for a movie instead of going… out there.
“You’re not having doubts, are you?” he asks, from behind me.
How does he know me so well? I stop and spin on my heels to face him. “How…?”
“It’s in your body language. Your shoulders are slumped. You’re not smiling, despite the flowers I just gave you, and you’re avoiding my gaze.”
“I…”
Taking two steps, he reaches me, gripping each of my arms in his hands and caressing them. His bangs fall over his eye, as he looks up, his grin filled with all manner of assurance. “Everything will be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I nod, despite the turmoil in my gut and mind.
“Now, get those in water, and let’s hit the town. We’ll be late for our reservation if we don’t hurry.” When his lips brush my forehead, it’s as if a cage of wild butterflies fly free within me.
I don’t want him to let me go. I don’t want him to take his pressed fingers from my arms, but when he does, I know it’s time to face my fear. I proceed to the sink, grab a vase from the cupboard, and place the flowers in water.
After I set the roses in the center of the kitchen table that was my only sanctuary nights ago, Wyatt takes my hand and leads me to the front door. His grip tells me he wishes to ease my fears, but it doesn’t do much to control the fear spreading through my limbs with each step we take toward the door.
“You can do this, Adele.”
“I can,” I say, straightening my spine and lifting my chin.
Wyatt reaches for the locks, and my hand rushes to stop him by grabbing his arm.
His warm, tender smile flashes in my direction as he guides my hand back to my side. The click of each lock sounds like fireworks exploding in my head. Bright, orange sunlight heats my skin and fills my living room when Wyatt swings the front door open. Bird calls echo in the darkening sky. The giggles of neighboring children dance on the cool breeze blowing through my hair. The faint smell of BBQ chicken reminds me I haven’t eaten since breakfast. Wyatt steps through the doorway, still holding onto my hand and giving it a tug. “Come on now.”
I shake my head. “I can’t...” My pulse quickens as my eyes dart to my feet that won’t move.
“You can.”
“No, no, I can’t, Wyatt. I can’t do this. This is foolish.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you. I’ll protect you.”
I snatch my hand from his and back away from the door, fighting the instinct to slam the door whether it’s in his face or not.
“You’re safe with me,” he says, reaching his hand out for mine. Letting his hand fall to his side, his head shifts to the side and that smile creases his lips. “Look at me.” He lifts both arms and flexes his biceps. “I’m a big strong guy. No one will hurt you when you’re with me.”
I have to admit that the bulk of his arms impress the hell out of me. But, Spence was strong, too. He was captain of the football team with his pick of full-ride scholarships. There were six of us that night, and we couldn’t stop them. They couldn’t stay alive. Doubt claws at my throat while Wyatt patiently waits for my choice.
“Try one step. Come out here with me. Stand here for a few minutes. If you start to panic, then we’ll go back in.”
I’m a failure. I’ve driven everyone in my life away from me. I can’t lose Wyatt that way, too.
I take three steps, and the tips of my shoes touch the metal of the threshold. I look up and find Wyatt’s encouraging eyes.
“You can do it,” he whispers. “Take that first step.”
I lift my foot and press the ball of my foot on the cement stair just beyond my front doorframe.
“That’s it. You’ve got this.”
Deep breaths cause my chest to rise and fall, heating each side of my neck. I lift my right foot and plant it next to my left. An arm slides around my back, as Wyatt tucks his hand over my waist, guiding me down three more steps. The fresh air fills my lungs sending a surge of empowerment through me. I can do this.
“I’m going to let go of you just for a second while I lock your front door. Got your keys?”
I nod, unable to form words in my throat and force them out. I reach into my purse and hand Wyatt my single key. I hear him behind me, securing the locks, as my eyes scan the street where I grew up. Homes I’ve only seen from my windows appear more vibrant in color, and I see details on the face of the old woman watering the lawn across the street.
A little girl with pigtails rings the bell on the handlebars of her bike while she rides by, wobbling a bit. I take in a deep breath of the clean air and actually feel at home outside.
Wyatt’s hand warms the center of my lower back as he escorts me to his car. He helps me in by holding my hand, shuts the door, and jogs around the front end to the driver’s s
ide.
Once in, he takes my hand after starting the car. He gives me another reassuring squeeze before pulling out of my driveway.
We drive down streets I used to know like the back of my hand, and I notice that Luigi’s, my favorite Italian restaurant where I spent every birthday since I was ten, has boarded windows and a closed for business sign over the once glowing neon one. I’ve spent far too much time locked up in my home, I think as I press fingers to the window.
“Where are we going for dinner?”
Without taking his eyes from the road, Wyatt answers, “I wish we could’ve went to Luigi’s, but they closed last year. There’s a nice place downtown that I think you’ll like just as much though.”
“You remember I love Italian?”
He only responds with a smile.
“And, you love a rare steak and loaded baked potato,” I say, letting him know he’s not the only one who pays attention. “We could’ve had that.”
“This place serves everything, and it’s all really good. I can get a steak, and you can have spaghetti.”
The ease of our conversation sets my mood, and I relax for the rest of the drive.
With my hand clasped in his, I stare across a table lit only by a single candle, into Wyatt’s eyes.
“Be honest,” he says, in a hushed tone. “How are you doing?”
I look around the room at couples and families dinning together, studying their seemingly normal faces, and let out a sigh. “I’m okay.”
“Your hands are trembling.”
“I’m okay, but still frightened.”
I reach for a glass of water and take a sip while I continue to scrutinize everyone in the restaurant, brushing the tip of my finger over Wyatt’s strong hand. “Do you remember the carnival massacre four years ago?”
He arches an eyebrow. “I think so.”
I grip his hand tighter. “I know you know that my friends were murdered, and I witnessed it, and that’s why I haven’t left my home in four years, but did you know that the kids killed at the carnival were my friends?”
He leans forward, his face taking on a concerned frown. “I didn’t know the exact circumstances.”
“We were supposed to have fun that night. Normal teenage fun. Just a group of friends going to a carnival. Silly stuffed, you know? It wasn’t supposed to be the blood bath it was.”
“What happened?”
I close my eyes and visions of sharp teeth, body parts, and blood flood my mind. “It was horrible.”
“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” he assures.
“No… I want to tell you, Wyatt. I trust you. You make me feel safe. You’ve done nothing but care for me and protect me. I need to tell you so you know why. So you understand.”
“I already understand you, doll. I’ll never judge you. I’ll never hold your fear against you. I know what you went through was traumatic and life-changing. Bringing you out wasn’t me attempting to change you. I only seek to help you. If this is too much—”
“Surprisingly, it’s not. You make all the difference. I couldn’t even do this with Aubrie. She’s tried numerous times to get me outside and to stay outside, without success. I know I’m safe when I’m with you.”
“That you are.”
I take another sip before gathering the courage to tell Wyatt exactly what happened that night. “We started out with the rides. I was totally against going, but all I wanted to do was spend time with Spence.” I lift my eyes to his, checking that I didn’t offend him by bringing up my deceased boyfriend.
He nods with a sparkle flaring in his eye, giving me the push I need.
“Spencer won me this giant stuff elephant. We ate funnel cake. I gossiped with my girlfriends. The guys taunted less popular kids. It was all completely normal high school crap. Spence and Brent got out-of-control excited when we passed the funhouse. I wasn’t into that stuff. I’ve never been one for haunted houses or mazes. They’ve always scared the crap out of me, but the guys were insistent on walking through. I begged Spencer… I begged him to go on the Ferris wheel or bumper cars, but he and Brent were set on the idea. I think he got a thrill out of scaring me.” My words stick in my throat so I grab for another sip.
“Take your time and don’t forget to breathe.”
With his instruction, I suck in a harsh breath. “It was creepy inside, but the further we went in the maze, the more at ease I became. My friends surrounded me, and I was glued to Spencer’s arm. We walked over this wobbly bridge with whirling fake walls spinning around it. Goofing off like any teens would, see… we were the only ones in the funhouse. It was late and the carnival was closing. Anyway… we turned the corner and walked through thick fog. The first thing I remember was the music. You know, the same song you hear at every circus you’ve ever been to. It’s called, Entry of the Gladiators.”
“Clowns have always freaked me out. I know, not very manly.”
I shake my head. “I used to think they were funny when I was a child. I actually liked the circus song, until that night.”
“Just the thought of the song brings chills to my arms,” Wyatt gestures to the gooseflesh rising on his forearm.
“I wasn’t scared. I knew whatever was in the room was meant to frighten us. Even when the cackles started, I was brave. Braver than I had been throughout the whole maze. At first, the fog was so thick that I didn’t see anything. I thought maybe the workers had gone for the night, and the guys were bitching about what a letdown that part of the maze was.
“Then, in the corner, slouched, I found the source of the laughing. There was a small clown, wedged into the wall. He had a sledgehammer in his hand, and he was staring at the floor… just laughing. Spencer thought it was part of the funhouse and told him he wasn’t scaring him. Then Spencer’s body fell limp onto the floor. Blood pooled around his head. I whipped around, and behind us was a tall clown with a large, red nose and wild, green, spiked hair.”
My body shakes, as Wyatt stands and moves his chair to my side of the table. Tears prick the corners of my eyes as the memories of watching my friends being chopped up flash through my mind. I throw my face into my hands and do my best to calm the sobs spewing from my lips. “I ran. Behind me, I could hear them screaming. I could hear the slashing of their flesh, the smell of iron, and that sweet, distinctive, metallic smell of blood. I ran. I didn’t try to help them. I just ran.”
“You had to, Adele. If you hadn’t, they would’ve gotten you, too.”
“I don’t know how I got away. There were only three of them and six of us, but they butchered my friends in an instant. I left them, Wyatt.”
“It’s okay, babe. You did the right thing.”
I shake my head. “I should’ve tried to stop them, but they had axes and hammers, and the room spun around me. I… I tried to get them help, but by the time the carnies got inside, Spence, Brent, Lisa, Taylor, and Stacie were all dead. They were in pieces. The workers caught the clowns and held them until the police got there. When the police did arrive, one of the clowns escaped the workers, got ahold of a gun, and shot at the cops. They… the police killed him.” Even though I know they’re behind bars and the one is dead, but I’ve never been able to get their painted, twisted faces out of my mind.”
The waiter approaches, and Wyatt lets go of me. Once he leaves, Wyatt stares at me, causing an uncomfortable pressure in my chest.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I can’t imagine how traumatic it must’ve been, and I completely understand why you’re afraid.”
That’s what I love about him. Love. Yes, I’m in love with Wyatt Lane. I know it the moment our eyes lock, and I don’t find a hint of judgement in his eyes. My own sister and aunt can’t handle my phobias. They abandoned me when my episodes became too much for them, but here Wyatt sits, staring into my eyes with a warmth I can’t deny.
I feel as though one thousand pounds lifts from my shoulders as I pick up my fork and stab at the pasta on my plate
. Telling the truth, not skirting around the events of that night, opened a new doorway for Wyatt and I. A doorway I can’t allow myself to fear any longer.
I don’t want the night to end. The realization hits me as Wyatt walks me to my front porch. For the past four years, I’ve done everything I can not to leave my house, and now I don’t want to go back inside. It has everything to do with him.
All evening, he has been more than caring and loving. When I jumped after a waiter dropped a glass, Wyatt took my hand and rubbed it until my heart rate returned to normal. Leaving the restaurant, he linked my arm with his, whispering affirmations every step of the way. On the drive home, he pointed out all the places he claims he wants to take me on a future date.
Butterflies swarm my stomach at the thought now of another date with Wyatt. With his hand wrapped around mine, the chemistry between us heating our palms, we amble up my walkway, our feet taking their time. I have the feeling he wants to come inside with me, and I’m not sure how to handle that. I’m not a virgin, but Spencer had been my first and only. Since then, I’ve been even more celibate than a nun. The thought of sex has always turned me off – until tonight. If I were to have sex with anyone ever again, Wyatt would be my first pick. Just maybe not this moment. I might need a bit more time before we open up that part of our relationship.
My brain screams at me to rush things. We haven’t even kissed, and he may not want to kiss me, yet I’m already planning out the next phase of getting to know each other.
We stop at my front door, and I instinctively turn to him. I don’t know what I expect, but I’m also unsure what happens next. I need guidance.
I don’t have to wait long.
“I don’t want to make assumptions.” Wyatt’s eyes dancing under the glow of the front porch. “So, I’m just going to ask. May I kiss you, Adele?”
My insides squeal and squirm, and my head nods before I can fully comprehend his question. His smile leads the way as his mouth descends on mine. The warmth of his soft lips invite me to let him continue kissing me, instead of following my initial instinct of running away in horror. His fingers comb through the hair on the side of my head, and I lose myself in the moment. No thoughts of being outdoors and exposed, no memories of the night my life ended.
