by Aven Jayce
“You’re not walking alone, not when it’s getting dark. Just give me a second to get my stuff.”
“Stay here.” I race down the steps, hearing Jack laugh from the doorway.
“Hey, where you headed? I’ll drive,” he says. “My car won’t reek of death for another day or two.”
“You’re nuts!”
“Addie.” Quinn grips my shoulder, the corners of his mouth downturned, indicating distress. “Just tell me what you’re doing.”
“I’m... I’ll play it by ear.”
“You can’t walk away without a plan.”
“Fine... then... I’m gonna call Nadine to pick me up on the road. That’s best, I think. If she and Brian won’t let me stay without going to the cops then... then... I’ll head to Jersey or somewhere. My friends will let me crash without asking any questions.”
“Fuck, no. Would you listen to me? You can’t walk the road back to Albany alone.”
“I said I’m calling Nadine. She’ll come for me.”
“Stop freaking out!”
“Don’t yell at me!”
“I thought we were together!”
“This is big fun.” Jack grins.
“Shut up!” we say together.
I keep walking, Quinn by my side and Jack close behind.
“Quit following me, both of you.”
“No, you’re not doing this. You must be in shock or something.”
“Shock? Ya think?” I give him a sarcastic look, my emotions changing to sadness when I see his tense face, like someone hit him in the gut and he’s holding in the pain. I have to end this before the magnet in his heart draws me back in and I can’t go through with it.
“Maybe I am stronger than I thought. Maybe that’s why I’m leaving, because I came to my senses. I’m attracted to you... but—”
“But? Did you say, but? I don’t want to hear the word ‘but’ when you’re talking about your feelings for me.” He puts his hands in his pockets, looking to the sky with a long exhale. “But?” He frowns. “I can’t believe you just said that... and you’re leaving. It’s that easy for you to walk away. No wonder you never said you loved me. This is fucking bullshit.” He kicks the dirt, sending a cloud of dust flying down the driveway. “You know what? Just go if you want. Why am I acting like a pussy? I don’t even know why I became so attached to you in the first place.”
“Pussy, my friend. It’s all about pussy,” Jack declares.
“Don’t do this,” I whisper. “You need to stay to protect yourself, and I can’t... I just can’t be around someone like Jack. You’re used to guys like him, I’m not.”
“Don’t let the door hit ya in the ass,” Jack says. “And if you decide to go to the cops, Quinn’s head will be on your doorstep first thing in the morning.”
I give him the finger and turn, marching down the drive.
“Tell me. Tell me before you go,” Quinn calls out. “With all truth, is this what you really want? You wanna go back home? Without me?”
“I don’t know...” I stop and look down at my feet.
I stare at the bandages poking out of the backs of my sneakers, huffing a dynamic sigh while nudging the dirt—my lip twisting and head down—feeling guilty.
“I don’t want to be involved in any of this.” I look back, needing to see his face one last time. “I want you, not all this other shit, but I know that’s not possible.”
“Addie—”
“Why was it like this? Why couldn’t it have been two people who met in college, fell in love, and got an apartment together? Why is life never simple like that?”
His hand appears, hovering between us, waiting to connect with mine. I stare at it for a good minute, his flicking index finger keeping me hypnotized, inviting me to either come closer, or get my ass outta here.
He’s better at this than me.
“Bye, Quinn.”
I start to walk, gripping the strap over my shoulder while feeling the heat from the setting sun on the back of my neck. My ponytail swings and a smile slowly grows on my face... that was fucking brilliant. I think it worked.
Jack had one thing right... we’re the perfect pair.
Love you, Quinn.
Chapter Fifteen
TOGETHER ‘TIL THE END
LIGHT TRAVELS in a straight line... life, on the other hand, not so much.
I have a feeling Jack Jameson is like light, never deviating from his path, headed in the same direction for years, blazing forward and illuminating—in his own destructive way—what’s truly important to the rest of us.
I’m nothing like him.
I’m far better.
I’m more intelligent, more cunning, and pay closer attention to detail. He didn’t even notice he left my cell on the table at breakfast... sloppy for a guy who seems to pride himself on being an astute businessman and a predator. That mistake gave me a chance to sneak it back, then slip it to Quinn with notes explaining my feelings and plans. An hour later, after he had time to check the cell, I was given a nod in total agreement. No argument, no need for a discussion.
Smack.
“Fucking mosquitos.” I slap my ankle, squashing the little nuisance.
The glow of the moon is unreliable, blanketed by heavy clouds, making it too dark to see the swarming beasts. But I can certainly hear them and feel them feasting on my blood. It’s an open bar for my exposed legs and drinks are on the house.
Car.
Headlights approach from the direction of the retreat. I pray it’s not Jack as I hide behind a tree. That would be the fourth time he’s been up and down this road. The first three times he tried to give me a lift, but I refused, insisting my aunt was on her way. After walking for what felt like two hours, I slipped into the woods and have been backtracking, staying twenty feet in from the road, hiding whenever a car appears...
It’s not him.
Good, back on track.
I should be able to find the driveway to Afterglow soon. It can’t be far. Quinn still has my cell so I can’t check the time, but it feels like ten or eleven. I bet I’ve been out here for close to four hours. Any minute now, every step is a step closer to him.
Smack.
“Fucker.”
I drop my bag, taking a break to rest my throbbing feet and to slide into a pair of jeans. Fuck, even after three days, my clothes are still damp from the rainstorm and the river. Unbelievable. I hate to put them on in this muggy weather. It’s unbearably hot. The sun set hours ago and it still feels like ninety degrees outside. But I guess I’ll deal. Being sweaty is better than being infected with West Nile virus.
“Oh, gross. What the hell is that?”
I jerk my foot as a slimy slug-like creature creeps between my toes.
Yuck. Just flat out yuck.
It fell, whatever it was. It’s gone.
Okay. Chill. The dark woods can be beautiful... I’m not afraid... I have to keep telling myself that. Even with Jack so close, I’ll be fine. I’m clever. I’m sneaky. Keep thinking that. Focus on the surroundings. Look around. Don’t lose sight of the road. Don’t get lost in the woods. Pack the shorts in the bag. Hurry up and get into the jeans. Do it. Hustle.
Damn it, the little creatures out here suck. The trees and the sounds of the crickets chirping are awesome, even the snapping of sticks under my feet are soothing like a crackling fire, but if one more bug touches me, one more... I’m gonna scream!
Fuck. Car.
With my jeans halfway on, I waddle behind a tree, stepping on another squishy thing. I hope that was moss... it was either that or animal scat. Nasty. Don’t think about it. Stay positive. This will all be worth it once I’m back in his arms.
“Addie.”
A soft voice and a gentle breeze float over my shoulder.
“Jesus Christ!” My heart sprints and my eyes bug out. I hate that spooky shit. Hate it, hate it. That was my mom’s voice... my mind’s playing tricks on
me. Or my ears are. No, my head... head and ears are playing tricks. That wasn’t real. No way.
Goose bumps.
I look around to make sure it was my imagination, remembering all the times I’ve heard a voice like that... it happens when I’m half asleep... one word spoken by a familiar voice. I wonder if anyone else experiences that? A voice clear as the bright blue sky says one word, and I wake-up for a split second, then doze off... yeah, it was like that, except I’m not in that hypnagogic state. I’m wide-awake.
Damn, that was freaky.
The car’s gone, my jeans are zipped, sneakers on, and I’m dying for a drink. A beer or a shot of anything, I don’t care what it is, just some liquor to calm my nerves.
No more voices. Please, no more words whispered in these woods.
I continue forward, wanting to hum, wanting to call for Quinn, anxious about everything.
Our first argument and breakup was a sham—a superb performance for Jack and Roxanne. And Quinn was terrific, I never expected him to be such a good actor. He even made himself sound selfish in the end, caring only about his own needs instead of my wish to leave. That was great. I love a man who trusts that I know what I’m doing.
I love a man. Period.
For the first time ever, that euphoric sensation has a hold on me. I’m mad for him. So in love that I get a giddy rush whenever he’s near, and my entire body aches when he’s gone. And I’m making impulsive decisions. That’s what love does... it makes you fucking crazy. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. Never, ever could I have imagined being out in these woods for any other guy. I’m here for him, for us, and now that I can admit what I’m feeling, it’s time to say it. I’m sure he knows, but those three passionate, binding words... I’m ready to tell him.
And Jack’s not gonna put me in a position where I have to fuck another man or be a part of his whole ménage à trois idea in order to stay at the retreat with Quinn. And he’s not going to force us back to the streets, either. I have other plans. And if it were actually possible to stay with a friend in Jersey, with Quinn, we’d already be there, though I doubt any of them could take both of us in for long... so here I am. Here we are. Jack’s no longer in control, and neither is Roxanne. At least not in this moment.
Sniff...
Meat. A fire. I’m close. I think I see the driveway...
Stay focused. Stay sharp. You’ve got this. Keep off the drive, far from the drive, far, far away from the retreat. No more sounds. Try not to breathe or trip or break any more branches.
Be silent.
Stay calm.
Think of something to think. Wait. What does that mean? Wouldn’t thinking of what to think be thinking?
Sounds like something my mom would say.
“I’ve only been to Tivoli once.” Dylan’s voice is quick to stop me in my tracks. “Trent slept in that park a lot. It’s full of skanks and meth heads.”
“Perfect. Just be sure of the spot.”
He’s coming down the driveway with Jack, one or both of them smoking weed. I can smell it.
“I told you this shit earlier. Why the fuck are we going over it again?”
“Because we’ll talk about it as much as I want, that’s why, asshole. If I ask you again in an hour, you’ll answer me. I don’t take body dumps lightly. It’s gotta be the right spot so the trail leads to someone else.”
“Just bury him out back. This place is massive. No one’s gonna find him here.”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“Hey, I get it. I’m not a fucking dope.”
They’re so close to me, about fifteen feet away, but I can’t see them. The light of the bowl glows when Jack flicks his lighter then goes dark fast. There’re no faces, no forms, no movements, which means they can’t see me either. I should be safe as long as I don’t move an inch.
“No. You don’t get it.” Jack flicks his lighter again, the embers glowing reddish-orange then fading to black. “That’s good though. I need a guy like you at each of my retreats.”
“Like what?”
“A heavy who’s also a fuckup.”
Dylan laughs, sounding like he agrees. “Because you can trust a fuckup, right? Because a fuckup would kill a cop before he ever talked to one.”
I bite my bottom lip, trying to hold in a cry... for Christ’s sake, what the hell is crawling up my leg? It feels like a spider... or a fly. No, the black flies aren’t out this late at night. It’s another creature from the forest floor that’s decided to crawl up my sneaker and under my jeans. Just decided... just right at this very minute the stupid bug decided it was time to climb my leg. Goddammit.
“You okay with fucking Roxanne?” Jack changes the subject. “I doubt I could do it with her.”
“Dude, all of this is great. Pussy, a full bar, steak... fucking steak for dinner today, man. I’ve never had it this good. Compare this to working some shit, minimum wage job and having a curfew. No way, man. I’ll take the fantasy world over the real one... so yeah, Roxanne can have my dick whenever she wants it.”
“You can keep it up, even with her yellow teeth and that hideous foghorn voice? Sweetheart, show me your cock,” he mimics her deep voice. “That shit doesn’t turn me on.”
“I don’t care.”
“There’s your answer.”
“What? That’s what you mean by being fucked up?”
“It means people in need will make great sacrifices to gain the simplest of pleasures. And the less people have, the more I trust they won’t screw me over, or my business, or their time here. The idiots that do are either tossed back or disposed of, but those are few and far between. It’s a very straightforward arrangement. Work, eat, fuck, and keep your mouth shut.”
The tiptoeing bug is on its way to my inner thigh. I think it’s within reach and I can squash it under my jeans. I just hope it doesn’t bite me. If I move super slow they won’t hear... oh, damn, that’s sick. Whatever it was had a hard outer shell. Eww, and it’s tumbling down my leg. Ugh!
“Easy enough.” Dylan takes a hit and passes the bowl back to Jack, asking in a throaty voice, “How’d you find her anyway?”
“Roxanne?”
“Yeah.” He coughs.
They take a few dragging steps then the night turns dead. The crickets stop chirping and the clouds become glued to the backdrop of the dark sky. Nothing. No movements or sounds. Jack’s silent, not answering Dylan, which is causing me to sweat. Please don’t see me.
My body tilts to the left, trying to keep my bag from sliding off my shoulder. I hold my breath and wait, hearing the sound of flaring nostrils, a short step, and finally another.
“My dad hooked me up with her,” he says, the footsteps continuing at a normal pace. “She worked for my granddad’s porn company back in Vegas years ago.”
“So this is what old porn stars do? Work the front desk at hotels?” Dylan releases a long, grunting laugh. “Ah, I’m so fucking stoned. Man, this is some good shit. I haven’t smoked in years.”
“I haven’t in eight hours,” Jack says back.
“Is it dark to you? Like, pitch-black dark? Fuck. Must be the pot messing with me. I can’t believe I’m even here right now.”
“Hey, did you fuck a lot in prison? What was that like?”
“What was prison like? Or what was fucking in prison like?”
They walk down the drive, their voices fading from behind as the moon re-emerges, lighting a path ahead. Sounds like the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Jack and Dylan, what a team.
I’m cautious, taking short steps, moving stealthily past the retreat. The sounds of people splashing in the pool and the clinking of bottles from the back patio bar are within earshot, mixing with a low moan coming from the dimly lit parking lot. I stop and listen, wondering if Trent could still be alive.
Impossible.
My brief thought of him trying to escape the trunk is replaced by a very different, very real
scene. It’s two workers from Afterglow. One guy has his bare ass against Jack’s car and his hands on top of another guy’s bobbing head. He’s looking down with gasps of delight. I’ve never been this close to two men going at it before... two men oblivious that a dead man’s just a foot away... a scene of sex and death.
“This is how it starts.”
I grip my duffle bag and remain quiet, knowing Jack’s still within range. Was that said to Dylan or was it meant for me? His voice was faint, but I heard it. He said it.
That expression of his gives me the chills.
I listen to his distant conversation as it mingles with the heavy breathing in the parking lot and the rustling of bushes near the edge of the driveway. Sounds like a small animal over that way. Fucking rodents are surrounding me from all directions.
Don’t get paranoid.
Walk.
Stay on track.
Quinn whispered that to me while we were working earlier today. Stay on track out there. Don’t get lost in the woods or inside your head. The darkness can play tricks on your mind. Don’t stop. Keep your ass moving until you’re back in my arms.
Okay... I’m coming.
The early evening when I left has now become late night. He must be worried I haven’t returned.
But I’m coming. I’m doing this to be together with him... home with him.
Home.
Home’s a strong word, a term that I now realize changes meaning with age. My mom asked me way back when I was still in grammar school how I would define home. She often asked questions like that, always trying to get me to think, always wondering what type of person I was and who I’d be as I got older. “Exercises for your brain,” she’d say. “And information about your feelings for your mom.”
Back then, I said home was where we ate and slept. It’s where we kept our stuff. Basic answers. She told me to remember the question, to think about it again as I became an adult, to ask myself if the definition changes, and if it does, why? Will it hold the same meaning when you’re thirty? Sixty? Think about it, Addie.
