by Melissa Jane
Entering his name into the Google search bar, I was given the option of several links that once again were dead ends. In the silence of the darkened room, the laptop illuminating the immediate space around me, I clicked through the pages.
It wasn’t until page seven that I was rewarded with a high possibility.
It was a newspaper article for the local online paper for a small town just shy of Mississippi. Its title read ‘Carter Construction Breathes New Life.’ Feeling a sense of hope, I clicked on the link and waited in anticipation for the page to load. It was only a small article dedicated to the Carter Construction company, who specialized in building luxurious cabins for those wanting to live off the grid. At the word ‘cabins,’ my heart thudded.
This had to be Lucas.
We shared such a strong connection with the cabin back in Delaware, and Lucas had taken woodwork and construction all through his schooling. Rereading the article, I searched for any reference to his full name, but there was none. The positives were that at least I now had something to work with. The next stage was to Google Carter Construction, which came up as the first search result. Unfortunately, however, the website contained even less information than the newspaper article did. The only bonus being a contact email and cell number.
Jotting each down on my notepad, I swallowed more wine to steady the nerves.
Beside me on the table, my cell vibrated signaling a call. The bright screen lit up the room revealing the number belonging to Detective Kinross.
Anxiety rested in the pit of my gut once more. I simply wanted to be left alone.
Reluctantly, I accepted the call.
“Hi, Detective.”
“Ms. Sinclair,” he greeted warmly. “I expect you arrived safely?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Excellent. I just want to let you know we’ve spoken to Maine police, and they have scheduled drive-bys in the area throughout the night.”
“Thank you for arranging that. I’m almost certain Mason wouldn’t know where my parents live anyway.”
“Even if you were a hundred percent certain, we still wouldn’t take the risk. If Mason was in your room that night, we have to assume he knows his way in and out of a secure residence with ease.” There was a pause while Detective Kinross exhaled heavily. “Ms. Sinclair, we understand you are cooperating with us, and you have certainly opened our eyes up to the Carter brothers’ lives, but we know you aren’t telling us everything. Mason has no previous record with any state in the country. Not even so much as a parking ticket. It’s one of the cleanest records I’ve seen. And therein lies the problem. If Mason did have a record, we could at least track his behaviors.”
They had no record because Mason knew how to play the system. He’d always known, even as a child, how far he could push the boundaries. He was continually ten steps ahead of everyone else.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking?”
“We know you’re frightened of him. We can see it in your eyes whenever we mention his name. We saw how white your face was after the gallery vandalism. We’ve noticed the constant tremor in your hand whenever we interview you.”
I looked down to my trembling hand that was nervously picking at a loose thread in my jeans.
“Yes, fine… he scares me.”
There was another pause while he chose how to delicately phrase his next question. “Ms. Sinclair, has Mason Carter ever physically assaulted you in any way? Has he hurt you? When you were younger, was there a time you remember, that you’ve withheld from us, where Mason did something to you of the sexual nature?”
Silence filled the void between us, a montage of images I’d rather forget flooding back in a tsunami of grief and resentment.
“I have to go,” I said quietly. Pulling the cell from my ear, I heard Kinross plead, “Ms. Sinclair—”
I ended the call, cutting him off. My chest ached, and I felt a shortness of breath. This… feeling… had been commonplace until I learned to compartmentalize.
Dropping my head between my knees, I inhaled and exhaled deep and rhythmically just like I had for over ten years whenever I woke from nightmares involving Mason Carter. When the pain ebbed, I pushed myself out of the chair, my cell slipping to the carpet.
In a trance, I unzipped my jeans and kicked them aside. A steaming hot shower was exactly what I needed. Switching on the light in the bathroom, I caught my reflection in the mirror. A tired, sickly face stared back at me. My skin was pale, dark circles framing my eyes. Tugging at my shirt hem, I lifted it high over my head and tossed it out into the room. And then my gaze focused on one thing in particular.
The scar.
On my right shoulder just under my collarbone, I wore his mark.
“Has he ever hurt you?”
“… something of the sexual nature?”
“Stop it!” I warned myself. If I let the thoughts consume me, I would spiral down without a lifeline.
“… hurt you?”
“Just. Stop.”
I traced over the thin white scarring that crudely spelled out one four letter word that had always been the epitome of his control.
MINE.
Chapter 16
THEN
The sun warmed our skin, the slight breeze carrying the first trace of Fall. Lucas and I shared the boulder near the stream on the last afternoon at the cabin. Our pinkies hooked together while we watched the clouds float past forming shapes and characters we invented. We were in a short-lived state of bliss. A moment when we could pretend the last few months at the Carter house hadn’t been the hardest of their lives.
A week had passed since the explosive feud erupted, and Lucas still wore the purplish bruises as a sickening reminder. The wound on his cheek was healing the best it could, but it would permanently mark him. The violent boyfriend had once again taken off leaving Mrs. Carter bedridden with grief.
Shortly after, Mason packed a bag, and without so much as a word to his fractured family, he left. It had been almost a week, and he hadn’t yet contacted home. The Carters’ lives had been turned upside down, but for the briefest moment, Lucas wanted to forget everyone and everything from the world that was crumbling around him.
“No way,” Lucas exclaimed in disbelief. His laughter lit up my heart.
“Yes way,” I insisted. “Mr. Wilkins went in with his tie perfectly knotted, and hair gelled back and came out with it mussed up and his first two shirt buttons undone.”
More laughter, his pinkie tightening around mine. I had been telling Lucas about this week’s class excursion to the city’s research facility. Mr. Wilkins, my science teacher, had struck quite the affection with the lead female researcher. After exchanging coy smiles and flirtatious glances all day, my teacher and his mutual admirer had disappeared. We were outside waiting for our buses’ arrival to return the class to school when Mr. Wilkins excused himself and casually, yet with a suddenly awkward swagger, walked back into the facility. When the bus arrived, and we boarded sans our teacher, we were left waiting for fifteen minutes until Mr. Wilkins returned looking unusually disheveled. There were giggles and innuendos thrown into the mix, all of which he expertly ignored. There was no denying the small smile on his lips for the rest of the journey home.
“Truth or dare?” Lucas asked, suddenly serious.
“Truth.” He knows I would always choose truth, but this was the game.
“What do you think life will be like when we finish school?”
A cloud in the shape of a duck slowly crept above us creating a shadow, absorbing the last of the heat.
“Scary,” I finally said.
“What’s scary about it?”
A hard lump formed in my throat. “I’m scared that when we graduate we’ll be sent in opposite directions and we’ll never see each other.”
“It doesn’t matter what we both end up doing, we’ll always be in each other’s lives, Gem.”
I dropped my head to the side to study his profile. “We have total
ly different interests, Lucas. We can’t guarantee that.”
This time, his eyes met mine. “You’re my rock, Gem,” he said, voice shaky with emotion. “Nothing and no one will ever tear us apart.”
“Do you mean that?”
“With all my heart.” Lucas smiled before returning his gaze to the sky. “Besides…” he said, a small smile playing on his lips, “… you won’t even remember me a month into college.”
“Oh! And why is that, Mr. Carter?”
“You’re beautiful, Gem. Smart, witty. You’ll be every guy’s dream girl.”
My heart both melted and shattered, tears prickling my eyes. “By the time we see each other on break, you’ll already have a rock on your finger.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.”
There was a pause before he finally spoke, “I don’t want it to be true.”
“Then let’s make a promise,” I said, turning on my side and facing him. He did the same, and we got lost in each other’s eyes.
“And what would that be?” he asked, playfully.
“If we’re both still single by the time we’re thirty, let’s marry each other.”
“I don’t think I can wait till we’re thirty, Gem.”
My heart exploded.
I touched his cheek, his skin soft. “You’re the only girl I’ll ever want,” he continued, and I believed every word.
“Spare me the bullshit!”
Huh?
We sat up, startled by the familiar patronizing voice behind us.
“Where the hell have you been?” Lucas’s tone was both angered and pained, a stark contradiction to only moments earlier.
“Calm down, little brother,” Mason replied flippantly. His mood was one I couldn’t quite place. While he was somewhat chilled with Lucas, his attitude toward me was cold and spiteful. “You two planning on getting hitched, are ya?” A cruel smile played on his lips. “Shhh, don’t let Jessica find out.”
Confusion marred Lucas’s face. “What are you talking about?” It was too late, Mason was already walking away, his head thrown back in a masochistic laugh. There was no Jessica. It was a ruse, but Lucas wasn’t yet finished. He jumped off the rock and held his hand out for me to take. After helping me to the ground, he stalked after Mason. I followed quickly behind, hoping and praying the altercation wouldn’t turn violent.
“You didn’t answer my question, Mason. Where the hell have you been?”
His brother kept walking a few steps ahead before he suddenly turned on his heel, his eyes reflecting the devil himself. “I had to get out of there before I killed that fucker!” he seethed.
“So, you just leave Mom and me there to deal with his shit?”
“We wouldn’t be in this situation if Mom didn’t keep taking him back. She obviously doesn’t give a fuck about whether we’re met with his fist every time he comes around, so why the fuck should I stay? Dad never laid a hand on us.”
“Dad fucked off, Mason! He left us for some other family and forgot about his own. And now you’re fucking off, too.” Lucas’s voice began to waver, and I gripped his arm in support. “So why keep coming back?”
“Why do I keep coming back?” Mason raised his brows and advanced a few steps. “If I stayed, he would be dead…” his finger jabbed into Lucas’s chest, “… and I would be sent to jail. I come back to make sure my little brother and stupid mother are all right.”
“Yeah, well…” Lucas scoffed. “Too bad if one day you come home and we’ve received more than the regular Friday night bashing.”
Mason bared his teeth while biting down hard on his bottom lip. “Then come with me. Better yet, we’ll move all our shit into the cabin. We have a roof over our heads and no one except Gem will know where to find us.”
“You don’t even have a job, Mason, and I still haven’t finished school.”
“Then we’re shit outta luck, aren’t we?”
Lucas, done with the conversation, turned in the direction of the cabin, swiping angrily at a low hanging tree branch.
Mason, being older, was taller and stronger and could stand up to a grown man. All Lucas wanted was to know his brother was around in times of need and would have his back. But in the same sense, I understood Mason… to a degree. At his current age, he walked a fine line. In most situations, he would be considered a minor still, but if he did something the court considered severe, he would be tried as an adult and face the full brunt of the law. It was a catch-22, and neither of the boys had the answers.
“Lucas, wait,” I called after him. He stopped at the sound of my voice but refused to turn around. Instead, he wiped his hand across his cheeks not wanting us to see him cry.
A rock formed in my throat and the words struggled to come out. “I brought enough food for the weekend. Let’s just all stay and see what we can come up with. There’s got to be an answer, we just don’t know what it is yet.”
Sliding his hands into his pockets, Lucas looked up to the sky. I took his silence as agreement.
Mason retrieved his bag from the nearby shrubs and despite having enough room to go around me, knocked his shoulder into mine. “What’s to eat? I’m starving.”
~
The evening came and went without drama.
Giving the brothers space, I studied for my science exam. Mason and Lucas were outside butting heads over what to do for their troubled family. When they took time out, they ate the food I cooked, and we all shared a bottle of alcoholic apple cider Mason had pilfered. It was my first time tasting anything alcoholic, but I wasn’t about to let the boys know. That night, exhausted from their terse exchanges, the boys slept soundly.
The next morning, I took a walk back through the forest to where the wildflowers were always in bloom. Mason and Lucas had been preparing the fishing rods in hopeful anticipation of catching something for dinner. It was a beautiful day, and I wore my yellow sundress to better my mood. The lack of resolution between the brothers wasn’t sitting well with me. There didn’t seem to be an answer to the problem. After our weekend at the cabin, they would be going home to face the same demon.
The wildflowers sat perched on tall grassy stems, reaching almost mid-thigh. A clearing framed with trees was brightly lit with the burning sun and blooming colors that worshiped the heat. Armed with a pair of scissors, I started collecting my bouquet.
I was cutting my last flower when I heard it.
A twig snapped.
It sounded from the thick of the woods, only a few yards away. Forgetting the flowers, I turned toward the noise. Compared to where I stood under the burning bright sun, the woods, staring in, were dark and ominous. It revealed nothing.
I waited patiently for movement, but there was none.
“Paranoid,” I chided.
Returning back to claim the last flower, my skin prickled. I swallowed hard, the ill feeling making me wish I was back at Little Wren. Maybe we hadn’t explored enough. Maybe we weren’t the only people out here. But I knew I wasn’t alone. Quickly snipping the stem and adding the flower to the bouquet, I started making my way back. I entered the woods with darkness consuming me and a chill on my warmed skin. I was only a few yards in when I heard the heavy footsteps. They crunched the debris behind me. I quickened my pace, but they followed. Gripping the scissors in my tight fist, I turned on the intruder ready to defend if necessary.
“Jesus, Mason. You scared me,” I scolded, pulling my hand back, the scissors having only been inches from stabbing his face.
For a moment he didn’t say anything. He just stared at my trembling hand.
“Why are you running, Gem?”
“Why are you chasing me, Mason?”
He answered first with a patronizing smile. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Mason’s eyes narrowed, and he continued in an unusual whisper, “What are you doing all the way out here? You never know who’s around.”
I held out the bouquet of flowers in answer, then asked, “What are you doing? I thought y
ou were with Lucas fishing at the creek.”
He gave a small shrug. “I had to fetch a few things for Lucas from Little Wren. I saw you weren’t there and like I said, I wanted to see if you were okay.”
Lies.
Dressed only in shorts, his muscled, tanned chest gleaming with sweat. It was obvious he hadn’t collected anything from the cabin.
“What did Lucas ask for?”
He shrugged. “Couldn’t find what he needed. But now I have.”
Mason let his suggestion slap me in the face, lips twitching in amusement.
I was in danger, and I wasn’t quite sure how to get myself out of it.
If I panicked, he’d react.
“I’m going back to find Lucas,” I said, turning on my heels hoping he couldn’t smell my fear.
“Not just yet, Gem.” Mason’s hand curled around my upper arm, spinning me to face him, both the bouquet of wildflowers and scissors slipping from my grasp. His mouth settled only inches from mine, eyes hooded with a familiar look that terrified me. I tried to shrug him off, to free myself, but his fingers dug deep.
“Mason, you’re hurting me.”
“I just want to talk.” His voice said otherwise.
“Then let me go, and we’ll talk.”
“Mmm… no.” His eyes narrowed, lips turning slightly at the edges, “I’m happy just like this.” He forced me backward, my feet struggling to keep pace. Instinctively, I gripped Mason’s shoulder to avoid stumbling, a sharp, protruding branch slicing through my calf.
He backed me up against a tree and I couldn’t move. I was trapped, his body pressing up against mine, his height imposing, wide shoulders threatening.
“Let me go, Mason,” I seethed, attempting to push him away. “You’re hurting me.” Ignoring my pleas, he moved closer until I was forced to turn my cheek.
