He's Come Undone

by Weir, Theresa

  I backtracked over the previous hours, trying to piece stuff together. I had a fuzzy recall of Ellie coming to the hospital, but her hair had been blond again. I remembered our escape, the ride on the light-rail train.

  I laughed.

  I hadn’t meant to, but how could I control my response? Thinking about the two of us racing along the sidewalk, me in my hospital pajamas and half conscious, Ellie in a conservative dress.

  The reading stopped. The book with the red cover and yellow text was lowered. Her head turned toward me. “What’s so funny?” she asked, and I realized I was still kind of messed up, because I found myself watching her mouth, thinking about the color and shape of her lips, thinking about how they would feel under mine.

  “Our escape,” I said. My voice sounded weird. Weak and breathless, but it fit the mood, because there was definitely a mood here.

  She smiled. “It wasn’t funny at the time.” She put the book aside. “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  Hungry. I shook my head. “Maybe thirsty.”

  “I’ll get you something. Water? Juice?”

  “Water.”

  She was back in a minute, closing the door behind her. I wondered if her roommates knew I was here. From the way she was acting, I guessed not.

  “What time is it?”

  “Just after six,” she said. “In the evening. You slept four hours.”

  I drank the water, then put the empty glass aside. “Is it okay if I take a shower? Are your roommates around?”

  “Just us. I don’t have any clean clothes for you.”

  “I’ll put these back on.”

  I took a shower, slipped the hospital pants back on, and tied the waist then checked the hallway to make sure it was empty before easing back into Ellie’s room. The shower had taken a lot out of me, and my legs were shaking as I dropped back into bed.

  A few moments later, Ellie edged her way into the room with a plate. Scrambled eggs and a cookie. I hadn’t thought I was hungry, but upon seeing it I grabbed the plate and wolfed down the eggs, finishing them off with the oatmeal cookie.

  “Devon, my roommate, made those yesterday,” Ellie explained when she saw my look of appreciation.

  As if by unspoken agreement, neither of us mentioned her betrayal and the contract and the girls who’d hired her. I didn’t want that to kill my buzz, and maybe Ellie felt the same.

  I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I woke up what felt like hours later. It was night, the lamp was no longer on, but faint light from the city crept in around the curtains. The moment I’d wanted to savor had stretched into more than a moment, because Ellie was curled up next to me.

  For how much longer, I had no idea. But not long. That’s the only thing I did know. Cops were probably on the prowl right now. This seemed the most unlikely place they’d expect to find me, given what Ellie had done, but cops were smart. And the hospital had cameras. They’d figure it out eventually.

  I touched her arm, lightly at first, but when she let out a sound of sleepy comfort, I pulled her close and pressed my lips to her forehead. Her breathing changed, and she reached for me in return.

  This time we were quiet. This time it wasn’t the mad frenzy of before. We didn’t crash the bed against the wall, and I didn’t pump my hips madly against hers. It was dreamy, a few whispers and a few sighs, but otherwise silent and tender.

  At one point, I just lay there hard and inside her while we clung to each other, softly kissing faces, touching, stroking, exploring, caressing. And when we both finally came, it was slow and groggy, Ellie with a hand to my chest. It took me a second to realize what she was doing.

  Feeling my heart to make sure it only went a little crazy.

  Our gentle climax was maybe the sexiest thing I’d ever encountered. And when we were done, we wrapped our arms around each other and fell into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 32

  ~ Ellie ~

  Violent pounding on the apartment door.

  I shot upright, my heart slamming in my chest as awareness crept in.

  Naked. Julian beside me. In my room.

  A booming voice at the apartment door: “Police. Open up!”

  “Oh, my God.” I scrambled out of bed, dove into a pair of jeans and pulled a T-shirt over my head while Julian hustled into his hospital threads.

  “Shit,” he whispered.

  Exactly. “We are so screwed.”

  Noise in the hallway—Carmen and Devon. I heard the apartment door open, then the murmur of conversation. None of it was unexpected, but I thought we’d have more time.

  What would happen now? To Julian? Would they sedate him again? Lock him up somewhere?

  “Ellie!”

  That was Devon. Poor Devon. I felt bad about dragging him into this mess. His apartment. Not cool, Ellie. But when a guy you were crazy about looked at you with those eyes and begged you to save him…

  I started to leave the room. Julian put out a hand, stopping me. “Stay here.” Then he opened door and paused, silhouetted in light falling from somewhere else, wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung and baggy hospital pants, his hair a mess. He looked back at me and smiled, then disappeared down the hall.

  I hurried after him.

  Just inside the apartment were a grand total of four cops. Four. Like this was some kind of SWAT team operation.

  “Are you Julian Dye?” One of the cops asked.

  “Yes.”

  The officer went on to explain how they’d been looking for him. Then the guy’s eyes tracked to me. He did a visual ID, asked some questions, then told me I was under arrest. Like real arrest.

  “She didn’t do anything,” Julian said.

  “We have video footage of Ms. Barlow pushing you from the hospital. Abducting you. Along with that, we’ve got written orders for you, Mr. Dye, to be returned to psychiatric care.”

  One of the other officers, a female who’d been silent until now, stepped forward and read me my rights while another officer pulled my arms behind my back and slapped a pair of cuffs on me, all while Devon and Carmen stood watching with mouths hanging open.

  Sorry, I mouthed to Devon.

  His expression only got more horrified.

  There wasn’t enough apology in the world for bringing this kind of a trash drama into someone’s home. And it didn’t seem to be wrapping up anytime soon.

  Hurried footsteps pounded up metal stairs, then Julian’s sister burst into the room, immediately spotting her brother. “I told them you were here!”

  “Stay back, Ms. Dye,” the cop who seemed to be in charge warned her. “We’ve got the situation under control.”

  Her eyes found me, and I saw the rage in them. “You! You!” She pointed to me and screamed, her words for the cops. “She’s a grifter! A whore! She tricked my brother into falling for her for money! For profit. She broke his heart for money, and then she abducted him.” Valerie dove at me, shoving me back. “Stay away from him! Stay away from my brother!”

  Unable to steady or defend myself, I tripped, hands secured, crashing into a coffee table, falling to the floor while Valerie towered over me.

  People grabbed her. Cops. Julian.

  I’m not even sure she was aware of the words being spoken to her—attempts to calm and soothe.

  “You’re evil!” she shouted at me, her face contorted. Behind her, the apartment door was open, and I could see people gathering in the hall, hanging back while hoping to get the gist of what was going on. A hand with a camera phone appeared above the crowd. Hello, YouTube.

  Julian kept repeating his sister’s name, trying to get her attention. She finally looked from me to him, and he said, “I asked her to get me out of there. I asked her.”

  “You aren’t thinking straight. She took advantage of your weakened condition. You can’t trust her, Julian. You can’t. I’m sorry. I’m the only person you can trust right now. Me. Your sister.”

  “Why are
you doing this, Valerie?” Julian said as the cops pulled his hands behind his back, cuffing him too.

  Valerie was the one they needed to restrain.

  “To protect you,” she said.

  She was crying, and I felt sorry for her. Even though I was lying on the floor, my arms twisted behind me, I felt sorry for her.

  “You’re doing it for you,” Julian told her. “Can’t you see that? And I get it. I understand. But you can’t protect me from everything by locking me up. You can’t put me away so I won’t get hurt.”

  A cop finally helped me to my feet.

  “But I can,” Valerie said. “I should. I can’t lose you.”

  He shook his head. How could a person argue with that?

  Julian was all she had left, and I’m guessing once you lose someone in an unexpected and violent way, you can never let your guard down, and every moment and every breath is rife with dark expectation. In that moment, I understood that neither of them would fully recover from what had happened to their parents. Valerie would always be watching and waiting, and Julian would always be at best a little broken, and maybe a lot fragile.

  “Come on.” The cop gave me an apologetic tug, leading me toward the door. I looked at Julian and he looked back at me, both of our hands behind our backs. I wanted to say so much, but couldn’t. Not with this audience. Not like this.

  I love your voice. I love your smile and your eyes and the way you walk. I love your bones and your skin and your hair and your soul.

  “Take care of yourself,” I told him, my eyes flooding with tears. “Please take care of yourself.”

  His face was partially hidden by hair that had fallen across his forehead, but he smiled at me, and that smile was real and almost angelic.

  We hadn’t talked about my deceit, but in that moment I felt a weight lift from me. My hands were behind my back, I was under arrest, and I felt good. Why? Because all was right between us. The cops could take me downtown and torture me. They could stick bamboo shoots under my fingernails and beat me to a pulp and interrogate me with a bare bulb hanging over my head while I was tied to a wooden chair, but I suddenly felt euphoric.

  And because I was suddenly happy, because our hospital escape had been so ballsy and so stupid, I laughed. “We’re a couple of bad asses,” I told Julian. Julian. Just Julian. Because nobody else mattered.

  He laughed too. “Yeah, we are.”

  Someone tossed a blanket over his shoulders, and they took him away first. I was surprised when Valerie hung back, but it seemed she had more to say to me.

  “He was fine until you came along,” she said. “You know that. You’re toxic. I want you to stay far, far away from him. Don’t try to call him, don’t try to see him.”

  What she said was true. About Julian being okay before we met.

  “There’s one good thing that came out of this trick. They put a rush on his paperwork, and he’s being officially committed. He’s not going back to the hospital—he’s going straight to the mental health center.”

  My euphoria vanished.

  I’d only made things worse. From the very beginning.

  Valerie wasn’t done, and I wanted to cover my ears, I wanted to walk away, neither of which I was physically capable of doing.

  “I don’t know if you ever liked Julian or if this was all a game to you,” she said. “I suspect it was a game, but if you care for him in the slightest, you’ll have nothing more to do with him. You’ll understand that he can’t be in any kind of relationship right now, especially one as messed up as this.”

  She left, and I said goodbye to Devon and Carmen.

  As the cop led me toward the elevator, I thought about what Valerie had said. Maybe she was right about staying away from Julian if I cared about him. And would he ever want to see me again anyway? Once he was better?

  Outside, they put me in the backseat of a police car, the cop’s hand on my head just like the movies.

  Chapter 33

  ~ Ellie ~

  This was my first arrest and first visit to a jail, but I’d once played a street-smart girl in a terrible movie. In one scene I was put behind bars, and there were layered short clips where I was supposed to pace the cell, illustrating how claustrophobic it was.

  It was.

  It is.

  As corny as that scene felt to play, jail cells were claustrophobic. Once they shut the door and walked away, leaving you with a cot attached to a cement block wall and a toilet where anybody walking by could see you pee, something kind of grips you. An overpowering sense of panic.

  If I’d had a book, I would have read it. If I’d had my phone, which they’d confiscated, I would have gotten on Facebook. Hey, I’m in jail! No, really. I’m in jail.

  There were several hours of night left, but I avoided the cot and just clung to the walls of the cell, trying unsuccessfully to quit thinking about Julian. And what was he doing? Had they sedated him again? I’m guessing they had, because once he discovered he was going to a place where he no longer had any say in his treatment, a place where he’d lose all freedom, he would be pissed.

  They really do allow you to call one person, and earlier the officer at the desk where they registered me like it was a check-in at the Y, asked if I knew a lawyer.

  I knew lawyers in California, like the lawyer who’d handled the lawsuit against my mother, but a lawyer in Minnesota? Didn’t know one. But I did know a lawyer’s daughter.

  They let me call her, and I had to do it at the front desk while the woman manning the place watched me. It took a few rings before Paige picked up—understandable since the clock on the wall said it was a little after three.

  “Huh?” she’d mumbled.

  “Paige, it’s me. Ellie.”

  “So?”

  I knew one of the girls had to have told Julian about me and about the contract. I suspected Paige was the snitch, but right now I didn’t care. “I’m in jail,” I told her. “And I need you to help get me out.”

  “Oh, my God. You kidnapped Julian. I read about it on Twitter.”

  “I didn’t kidnap him.”

  “Everybody says you did. And I saw camera footage of you in a blond wig.”

  “Okay, whatever. Just figure out a way to get me out of here.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because if you don’t I’m going to contact the media and tell them what you did. I have nothing to lose at this point, and everything to gain by telling my side of the story.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  And did she ever.

  By noon an officer was unlocking the cell door, telling me I could leave. “Stop at the front desk to collect your belongings and sign release forms.”

  Everything was returned to me in a gallon Ziploc bag. I signed some forms, was told I’d have to appear before a judge, date and time to be determined. As I walked toward the door and freedom, a middle-aged man in a dark suit got to his feet and introduced himself as Paige’s dad.

  “I imagine Paige didn’t tell me the whole story,” he said, “but I got enough of it. I’m not sure I was much help. They would have had to release you anyway, but I did get you out a little earlier.” He handed me a business card. “Do you need a ride?”

  I had no money, but I had the metro pass app on my phone. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

  “I remember when Paige used to watch you on television,” he said. “She was obsessed.” He shook his head. “I haven’t yet figured out how to reprimand her, but I’m not letting this slide. I’ve done that too many times.”

  I grimaced, hoping she wouldn’t feel the need to retaliate.

  “She also told me about the contract,” he said. “Explaining that you broke it.”

  Shit.

  “Don’t worry. There won’t be a lawsuit. The whole thing is ludicrous.” Then he added: “You’re just as guilty,” he said. “Agreeing to such a stupid scheme. Toying with lives.”


  “I couldn’t agree more.” I liked him.

  “Good luck. You’ll have to appear before a judge. If they take Julian Dye’s deposition and his side of the story corroborates with yours, then you shouldn’t be in too much trouble. They’ll assign you an attorney, but if you have any questions, give me a call.”

  “Thanks.”

  Outside, we went opposite directions. Me, to the bus stop, him to his car and probably a fancy downtown office.

  Chapter 34

  ~ Ellie ~

  For two weeks, I tried not to think about Julian. Then I broke down and went to his old hangouts hoping to catch a glimpse of curly hair and black leather jacket in order to assure myself that he was okay and his life was back to normal. But he wasn’t anywhere on campus, and the few times I went to The Drink there was no sign of him.

  Halloween came and went and November blew in, cold and nasty. This would be my second Minnesota winter, and I was both dreading and looking forward to it. Living in California for so long left me with a fascination of snow, but the cold was unbelievable. Like nothing I could ever have imagined back in sunny LA.

  Like Paige’s dad had predicted, the lawsuit didn’t happen. And apparently Julian didn’t hate me too much because my case ended up being dropped. But the YouTube video was still going strong, and one afternoon on the bus ride back from my job at Mean Waitress, my phone rang. On the other end was a voice I hadn’t heard in years. It belonged to my old agent.

  “Got a gig for you,” he said in an overly cheerful voice that should really come with a warning.

  The bus chugged away from the stop to merge with traffic. “It’s for a TV show called Used to be Famous.” Before I could say forget it, he rushed to fill me in on all the wonders the show had to offer.

  “It’s a reality show starring people who used to be child actors. They’re all put in a house together, and they have to go out and try to find regular jobs. It follows them through the whole process, and focuses on coping and dating. I think it’s a fantastic opportunity for you. And you won’t even have to audition.”