Just a Little Honesty

by Tracie Puckett

  After two hours of silence, I rolled off the edge of the bed, extremely careful as not to wake up my friend who’d already fallen into a deep, deep sleep. I tiptoed across the loft and peered over the edge of the balcony, and Luke’s eyes immediately darted up.

  “You okay?” he whispered, and I just barely heard him.

  I nodded, but I didn’t move. I simply sat down and let my legs hang over the ledge, swinging down from the second floor. I rested my chin on the wooden rail in front of me and stared at Luke, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off of me. It was impossible to tell just how long we sat there staring at each other, but the moments passed slowly. I kept my chin propped on the ledge in front of me, and Luke finally tilted his head over and rested it on the side of the rocking chair. We kept our eyes locked, beat by beat, minute by minute.

  I had no way of knowing what he was thinking, but I had a million crazy thoughts running wildly through my mind. I thought about what Derek had told me about Luke inviting him up. I thought about the way he’d accepted Derek’s arrival with open arms and a welcoming smile. And then I thought about the way Luke had fumbled helplessly with the mustard bottle.

  And as I sat there staring at the man I loved, I couldn’t help but wonder how I could’ve been so wrong as to think that I’d ever known anything about him.

  I knew he was beautiful, and I’d probably spent more of my days lusting over him than actually loving him.

  I knew he was controlling and manipulative, but I didn’t know to what extent those tendencies could be blamed on a disorder. Was Luke really obsessive-compulsive? Or was it just a coincidence that he had certain erratic behaviors?

  From day one, from the moment I met him, he had this seemingly uncontrollable urge to be in charge and make decisions. I’d only ever known him to manage, direct, manipulate, and take complete control—even when it wasn’t his place to do so.

  And thinking back on all the days, weeks, and months I’d known Luke, I could only recall one time—one night—that he hadn’t been in control. It was the night he’d first told me he loved me, the night he’d drunkenly professed his feelings for me on my Uncle Charlie’s front porch. And that one thing—that one moment of weakness—suddenly had me doubting that Luke could have any kind of OCD. Would someone who is so obsessed with control—maybe even to a medical extreme—be willing to give up the ability to control their own natural impulses?

  Maybe, maybe not. But I leaned a lot more toward not.

  Either way, it didn’t justify half of the things Luke had said or done. I understood a little better, yes. It gave me a place to start from, and it offered a way to analyze things on a deeper level. But it did not excuse his past behavior. If Luke was as much of a control freak as he appeared, then I had no doubt that he could manage his controlling tendencies just as easily as he could everything else.

  “You gonna sleep?” I finally asked him, letting my soft whisper echo off the cabin walls.

  “Probably not,” he answered almost immediately, and Matt began to stir. “But you should.”

  I nodded and watched him again for a few long seconds, and then I pulled my legs back up. I stood up and started toward the bed, but then I stopped short of the stairs. I turned back and looked at Luke, and then I started quietly down the staircase. Luke watched me the entire way down, and he never once diverted his stare.

  I stopped about two feet from him, and he sat watching me with a puzzled expression.

  “Come here,” I whispered.

  He stood up from the chair and reached back to stop it from rocking on its own as his weight shifted to the floor. He took a couple steps toward me, and I opened my arms to ask for a hug. A gentle smile pulled on his lips, and he too opened his arms. I fell against his chest and listened to his heart patter as he wrapped his strong arms even tighter around my body.

  “I love you,” he said, and almost so quietly that I could barely make out his words. “You’re trying to rationalize it,” he whispered, still holding me close. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re trying to justify the reasons I’ve done the things I’ve done. You’re trying to find a way to make it so that I’m not bad guy. But you’ve gotta stop. There’s no excuse; I was wrong, and I can own that. I don’t need you to make excuses for me, Julie,” he said. “You just need to accept that I’m trying to make up for it now.”

  I nodded and closed my eyes as I nuzzled myself further into his embrace.

  “Fine,” I said lowly, trying not to wake the others sleeping in the room. “I’ll stop trying to justify your actions, but only if you do something for me first.”

  “Okay,” he said with a gentle nod. “Anything.”

  “Get some sleep.”

  “Walked right into that one,” he said, dropping his head. But it shouldn’t have surprised him; sleep was the one thing I’d wanted for him since the moment we left Oakland. He couldn’t keep running on adrenaline and caffeine alone.

  “Fine,” he said, and then he nodded.

  But I didn’t trust him not to go right back to his chair the moment I went upstairs. So, I headed to the linen closet at the front of the cabin, unloaded an armful of folded blankets, pillows, and quilts, and began fashioning a bed on the floor.

  After I’d completed his makeshift bed, I pointed at the floor—silently commanding him to go to sleep. He watched me hesitantly for a second, but then he let go of a deep breath. Taking a few steps back, Luke reached down and took the bottom of his t-shirt in hand. He pulled his shirt up over his head and removed it, carelessly tossing it onto the pile of blankets. My heart skipped a million beats—maybe even stopped, I don’t know— as I watched him disrobe, but I somehow managed to keep myself from fainting right there on the floor.

  “Good night, Julie,” he said, taking a step forward to press a kiss to my forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

  I turned for the stairs, taking each one much slower than the one before it. Every few seconds I’d throw a glance over my shoulder to find that Luke still hadn’t settled himself on the floor. I finally reached the upstairs landing and headed for the bed, no longer able to see anything downstairs. But after ten minutes passed, I still couldn’t sleep. I rolled back out of bed, peered over the railing, and found Luke sitting on top of the blankets, leaning over his wrinkled shirt. He worked to fold it in a very precise manner, and he was only satisfied with his folding job after four failed attempts. He put the shirt aside on the floor next to him, sunk down into the blankets, and turned over.

  And I kept watching him for a while, praying that he’d fall asleep.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Tuesday, April 09 | 7:00 a.m.

  I woke up gasping for air; try as I might, I couldn’t seem to find my breath. The constricting pain had closed off every chance I had at taking in an ounce of oxygen.

  My eyes shot open, and the pain suddenly took a whole new perspective.

  Derek leaned over my body and pressed his fingers deeper into my neck—choking me—grasping tighter and tighter, deepening his extremities further into my skin.

  I gasped for air, fighting with everything I had, but my weight was no match to his. He forced me against the bed, never losing grip on his hold. His cold, blue eyes flashed a wicked gleam, and the smirk he bore was unbearably evil.

  I kicked, pushed, thrashed with everything I had, but Kara wasn’t budging on the bed next to me. With each move I made—both big and subtle—Derek’s fingers tightened on my neck. I prayed that Kara would hear me, I prayed that she would wake up, I prayed that someone—anyone—would help me… because there was no way I could help myself.

  I felt my consciousness slipping away, and I had no fight left in me.

  I’d asked Luke to go to sleep… I’d let my guard down… I’d trusted a Milton.

  “Derek, no!” I heard myself scream, and I had no idea where my voice had come from. All I knew was that it didn’t feel like it’d come from my throbbing throat; one minute I was struggling for air, the next minute I suddenly had all
the strength I needed to fight him away. He fought to keep me down, but I managed to pull myself up. “Luke!” I screamed, and I prayed that my one scream would suffice. “Luke! Help!”

  But my voice didn’t sound like my own; it barely sounded like anything I’d ever heard. It was muffled, tired.

  “Luke, help!”

  Derek straddled me, cocked his fist back, and I fully prepared myself for his strike. And just as I closed my eyes, ready to take the brunt of Derek’s hit, my body jolted and my breathing began to steady.

  I opened my eyes again, and Derek was gone.

  Through heavy breaths, I let my eyelids fall. But then Matt cleared his throat, and my eyes shot open again. Kara knelt on the bed next to me, trying to manage the stream of tears that were falling down her cheeks. I looked up to find Matt, Luke, and Derek standing around the bed, each one of them looking at me as though they feared for my life as much as I had.

  I looked from Luke to Matt, from Matt to Kara, and then from Kara to Derek. Derek’s face was void of any emotion, but I knew he could see the truth written across my face. I knew he could feel the fear radiating from my body, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  I hadn’t just dreamed that I was being killed… I had dreamed that my killer was Derek. And he knew it… I could see it in his eyes.

  He dropped his shoulder as if defeated, and his eyes suddenly welled with tears.

  “Derek,” I said, still trying to find my breath. But he didn’t stick around long enough to hear my explanation. He dropped his head, slumped his shoulders, and started down the stairs. “Derek, no!”

  I rolled out of bed and chased him, but he was out the door by the time I reached the first floor.

  “Derek, come back!”

  “That’s not who you are!” he yelled, turning back to me. We stood only feet away from each other—both dressed in our pajamas and our hair disheveled—panting with heavy breaths.

  “What?” I asked, trying to read his expression.

  “That’s—not—who—you—are!” he yelled again, and I shook my head. “Remember, Julie? If I couldn’t trust myself, all I had to do was trust you. Because you had faith in me, remember? I’m not a killer. Or maybe you’ve changed your mind?”

  “No,” I said, reaching forward to take his hand, but he jerked it away. “Derek, no—”

  “I should’ve known that time alone with Luke would change you. I should’ve known he’d get in your head—”

  “No,” I said again. “Derek, it’s not like that. I trust you—”

  “You trust me?” he asked, nodding up at the cabin. “Then tell me, Julie. What were you dreaming about just now?”

  I closed my eyes and dropped my head. “Please don’t—”

  “Tell me!”

  “Derek, it’s not relevant. You know I trust you. You’d never hurt me—”

  “Relay that message to your subconscious,” he said. “You’re—scared—of—me.”

  “No!”

  “Stop!” he yelled, rubbing his face with his large hands. His knuckles were white as snow, and his eyes were suddenly bloodshot. I’d never seen him so broken, so torn down. And it was all my fault….

  I watched as Derek stood a little taller, swallowed hard, and shook his head.

  “It’s not your fault,” he said, taking a step back. “You should be scared.”

  “Derek, come on—”

  “I’m a Milton,” he said, shrugging. “I’m a killer—”

  “You are not a killer,” I said. “I’m tired of having this conversation with you! You’re not like them! You’re nothing like them—”

  “You don’t believe that,” he said, and deep down, I truly believed that he thought he was right. But he wasn’t. I’d never thought Derek was capable of hurting a fly. I’d never imagined that he’d have it in him to destroy another person’s life.

  Had I suspected that he might’ve been helping his father? Maybe. A little.

  But Derek wasn’t a villain. He wasn’t.

  And I had to make him understand that.

  “It was a dream,” I said, trying to plead with him. “It was a stupid dream. Please don’t read more into it than what it was. Come back inside,” I said, reaching for him. “Let’s talk this out.”

  “I can’t,” he said, starting away again.

  “Derek!” I said, and this time I didn’t just yell—I screamed. “I—love—you! You’re the best damn friend I’ve ever had. I’m not scared of you. I love you, and I trust you.”

  I turned back and looked at the cabin, and Luke, Kara, and Matt were all standing and watching us on the porch. I pointed up at Luke and looked back to Derek.

  “I went through hell because of that man standing right there,” I said, still pointing at Luke. “The past seven months of my life have been nothing but an emotional roller coaster because of him. He’s lied to me, he’s hurt me, he’s dragged me through the mud. And if it hadn’t been for you,” I said, stepping toward him. “If it hadn’t been for my best friend, I would’ve never made it out alive. You were the one I turned to when I needed comfort. When I needed to hide from my pain, it was you I came to, Derek.”

  “Julie—”

  “I don’t deserve your friendship,” I said, admitting what I’d always known was true. As much as I loved having his company, as much as it killed me to be apart… I’d always known—somewhere deep down—that I hadn’t deserved everything Derek had given me. He’d given more than his unconditional love, support, and attention. And I’d hardly given him the same. “But I’ll never make it without you….Please… please don’t leave me.”

  Derek looked at me with sad eyes, but then his stare shifted to the other three standing on the porch. Everyone watched him, waiting for his next move. Luke kept his arms folded at his chest; Kara wiped a tear, and Matt looked as if he could pounce at any given second.

  Derek turned back to me and shrugged.

  “I told you I wouldn’t leave you again,” he said, looking as if he’d just exhausted everything he had in him. “I’m in love with you, Julie. I mean, I love you. And not just because you’re my friend, but because you were able to look past everything that should’ve kept us apart.”

  Derek and I stood staring at one another, neither of us able to find our voices. How did I respond to that?

  “Can we….” I turned back and looked at the others, all of them seemingly in shock by the way the conversation had unfolded. “Derek, can we go for a walk?”

  Derek looked back at Luke, Matt, and Kara, and then slowly back to me. “Yeah.”

  I looked back to them and nodded toward the path, letting them know that Derek and I were going to seek some privacy. Luke perked up, and I almost thought he would object. But he simply nodded along with Kara. Matt was the one who seemed most on edge.

  We turned off into the woods—both barefoot—and Derek reached over and took my hand. He threaded our fingers together, lifted my hand to his lips, and gently kissed my cold skin.

  “I know,” he said, nodding. Our fingers were still entwined as we walked along the path. He let out a few slow breaths, closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and let the morning sun find his skin. “I know why you didn’t want to say anything back there, Julie; you didn’t want to humiliate me in front of them.”

  “Derek, it’s not like that—”

  “I know you love me,” he said, squeezing my hand. “But I know that you love Luke. You’ve loved that man since… well, long before I stepped into the picture, I’m sure.”

  I wanted to object, or at least soften the blow. But I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Fortunately for me, Derek still had some talking to do, so I just let him brush my fingers and continue.

  “I’m smart enough to know that I’ll never be the one,” he continued. “I’ve known from the very beginning; it has been, and always will be Luke. And it’s okay. I didn’t come back to Oakland to claim your heart. I knew—even if you didn’t—that you wanted me hom
e, but only in a friendly capacity. So I’ve kept my distance. I’ve given you space. I’ve let you figure this out on your own. You only missed what we had—not what we could’ve had. Julie, you’ve never thought of me as anything more—”

  “That’s not true,” I said, shaking my head. “Derek,” I said, and my nervous laughter got the best of me. “I can’t tell you how many times I thought about you while you were gone, and not just about your friendship. I always wondered what it would’ve been like when you came home. Would you welcome me with a hug? Would you take me in your arms and kiss me until the world stopped turning? Would I come to realize that losing you was the biggest mistake of my life?”

  Derek smirked, but it didn’t last long.

  “Can we be realistic here, Julie?”

  “Always,” I said, squeezing his hand tighter.

  “We’ve shared a lot in our time as friends,” he said, and I nodded. “And I know that you haven’t really figured out your life yet. But you want things… and I want other things. So, even if we gave this thing a shot, it wouldn’t last. And then we’d both end up hurt, and we’d run the risk of losing each other for good. I don’t want that.”

  “Things?” I asked, almost breathlessly.

  “Humor me,” he said, pulling his hand away. We continued walking the path, both of us swinging our arms along our sides as we moved. “What do we tell them?”