“William,” Blake said. It sounded like sympathy, a consolation I wasn’t sure I would ever find. I had no idea how this would ever end.
All I wanted was for them to be safe. I’d give everything I had in exchange for their joy—my happiness, my desires, my life. I’d always been willing. But I always fell short, every good intention I ever had never good enough.
“How do I stop this?” I didn’t expect an answer, and I just received Blake’s soundless sadness on the other end.
I sat on the side of the bed in the guesthouse, smoothing my hand over the sheets where I’d held Maggie the night before. If I concentrated hard enough, I could see her there, could smell her sweetness and the intensity of her love, feel the caress of her hand, dip my mind back into the ecstasy we’d shared.
Exhaustion threatened to steal me now, the night I’d spent alive in Maggie and the day of desperation taking its toll. I’d driven the town and roads for hours, searching for…for anything—a trace, a hint, a whisper. In the end, I had let life slip through my fingers again.
I’d gone directly from Maggie’s to the police station, begging and pleading—demanding. It was Troy…It was Troy, I’d said again and again, a claim that had been met with suspicion. Hushed words had been uttered behind closed doors and an accusation thrown my way, a suggestion at my own blame, that maybe I had somehow been involved, though the officer who’d taken my statement hadn’t been fast enough to hide the recognition that flickered in his eyes when I asserted Jonathan was my child. He’d seen it too.
When they let me go, they promised to look into it. My gut told me I hadn’t been taken seriously, just like last weekend when I’d made a similar claim, and again I cursed this tiny town. I couldn’t help but wonder if they’d protect Troy because they’d rather keep the secrets of this place than have them exposed. I left the small station and drove until I could drive no more, until I traveled the road where they’d found Maggie’s van what felt like a million times, until it blurred and bled and I thought I might die, until the sun sagged at the horizon and sank with a gut-wrenching goodbye.
This I couldn’t handle. Sickness clawed at my insides, a fear so real it saturated me through. It was as if I could feel their grief, sense whatever torment Troy was putting them through. I both welcomed it and wished I could purge the images that plagued and tore at my soul from my mind. Yet I held onto them because I didn’t want them to go through it alone.
I fell to my knees on the hardwood floor. The walls closed in, suffocating…and I felt it, felt them. I cried out, begged her name.
I lay my cheek on the cool floor, nails scraping the slick wood, grasping for something, grasping at nothing.
Consciousness tilted and edged.
Darkness fell.
Laughter floated, an echo, a call. William pushed forward, drawn into the dusky haze. Wind whipped at his feet, stirred up the fallen leaves on the dead winter floor. Each step of his boots was leaden with a burden that simmered somewhere in the periphery of his understanding.
“Bet you can’t find me.” The innocent voice was distant as it fell upon William’s ears, filled with mirth at the game the child played.
Those words rushed as fear through William’s veins.
His footsteps pounded in his ears as he followed the trail of the soft voice that lingered on the wind. Among the knotty, sinewy trees, their boughs twisted and twined, William paused to listen.
A branch snapped off to his right—another peal of laughter as the child dashed giggling from behind one tree to another more than a hundred yards away.
“Wait,” William called, stretching his hand out in the child’s direction. Please.
For a moment, the small boy peeked out from behind a large tree trunk and stared back at him with huge brown eyes.
William’s heart lurched with the boy’s face, a picture of himself—his son.
The child giggled again, his feet too agile as he took off, his dark blond hair like a flare striking in the moonlight before he disappeared deeper into the darkness.
Panting, William chased the boy, begging him to stop while he stumbled over exposed roots and overgrown earth that seemed almost alive as it worked to hold him back.
The child’s laughter drifted along the breeze, brushed across William’s face, beckoned him to a place he did not know.
William struggled to find him, to close the distance, but the gap only grew. The laughter faded and shifted. The boy’s sudden fear hit him like a knife to the chest. Somewhere in the deepest recesses, far beyond William’s reach, he heard the child scream.
I jerked from sleep, body thrumming and my mind keening in awareness.
“Oh God…oh God.” I dragged myself to my feet, eyes frantic as I searched the darkened room. I knew. Oh God, I knew. My sight adjusted and I zeroed in on my keys on the bedside table. I grabbed them and raced out the door. The gibbous moon hung low in the sky and sent a flood of muted light slanting across Blake’s backyard. A solitary porch light lit the dozing house. It was so peaceful, a dramatic contradiction to the chaos plundering my thoughts.
Doubts filled my consciousness. Not of the certainty of the dream, but for the actions that had been set in motion the second I’d been thrown from sleep. I shoved them back. I had no time for second guesses.
I fumbled with my keys and pushed Blake’s house key into the lock, squeezing my eyes shut as if it would somehow hide my presence. But every extra second I had brought me a second closer to Blake being too taken by surprise to stop me.
Inside the house was quiet. So quiet. I could almost hear my apprehension rushing ahead of me, scraping across the floor. I took a step forward and stopped to gather myself when the floor creaked. I just had to go for it.
I managed to slip through the house unnoticed. Blake’s bedroom door was open a sliver. A soft snore pulsated from within.
Flinging the door wide open, I flicked the on the light switch and rushed across the room.
Blake shot up in bed, thrashing from the covers. I knew he’d be on the defensive, ready to protect his family. His eyes went wide when they met with mine, filled with a confusion that quickly shifted to worry. Grace grabbed at her covers, pulling them up like a protective shield as she blinked herself from sleep.
I said nothing, just hoped the surprise would keep Blake in bed long enough so I could get in and get out.
At the closet, I raked the clothes aside, exposing the face of the tall safe hidden in the back. I’d lived there long enough to know the safe was there and what Blake kept inside—and I had known Blake long enough to guess what code he’d use.
In an uncontrolled frenzy, I twisted the dial with a shaky hand, counting, counting, praying. It unlatched, swinging open to a shotgun, boxes of shells. A handgun was kept in a separate box on the top shelf. I dug into the box and pulled the handgun out. It felt so foreign in my hand, too heavy, all wrong. Ignoring the thought, I grabbed a box of bullets and dumped a handful into my palm, shoved them in my pocket. I’d do whatever it took.
My breaths came erratic as I closed the safe and spun the dial once. When I turned, Blake sat on the edge of his bed, gripping his head with his hands. “What are you doing?”
I knew well enough he warred with himself, that Blake knew exactly what I was doing—that he both wanted to stop me and wanted me to go.
“I’m getting my family back.”
For a moment, Blake blinked in confusion.
“What?” he finally said, pushing to his feet and shaking off the drowsiness. “Did you hear something? You know where they’re at?”
“Yeah, I know where they’re at,” I said. He’d taken them where it all had started. Where Troy had drawn a line and made the connection. Where Troy planned to make me pay.
“Where? What the hell is going on?”
I just shook my head.
I had no time to explain, and even if I did, I didn’t think I could. There’d been times when I’d felt tempted, when I’d wanted to share, when I�
��d wanted someone else to know.
Now, it felt private, something revealed between me and my son when the right to know him had been taken away.
I headed toward the door.
Blake started for me, panic in his footsteps.
“Will, come on, man. Don’t do anything stupid.”
I looked back at my brother.
Stupid.
I had the urge to laugh, the urge to cry.
“I’ll do anything, Blake.” It didn’t matter if it was stupid or whatever consequences had to be faced, it was worth it. As long as they were safe.
Creases edged Blake’s face, a shock of fear, a twist of compassion.
“I have to go.” I spun on my heel and headed for the door.
Blake grabbed my arm. “Then I’m coming with you.”
I turned on him and pressed my body hard against his chest, my words a fierce whisper. “No, you’re not. You’re staying here, with your girls. They need you, Blake. I have no idea what’s going to happen out there, and I won’t let you risk that.”
Blake stumbled back as my meaning sunk in, and I took the chance and left my brother staring behind me.
Grace rustled from the bed. “I’m calling the police,” she said.
That was fine. I planned on it too, but there was no way I was going to stand aside and leave this in their hands.
I quietly slipped back through the kitchen and out of the house.
Once outside, I ran. Orange lights flashed as I clicked the lock to my SUV. I jumped in, kicking over the ignition and slamming it into gear in almost the same motion. I tore out of the driveway and up the road.
I couldn’t bring myself to look in the direction of Maggie’s sister’s house as I flew by. Grace had spent the afternoon with her while Blake and I had searched. She’d been standing in the middle of her yard when I returned. I’d slowed, locked in the misery of her gaze when I passed. Like me, she was destroyed. I saw it. Felt it. But I hadn’t stopped because I had no idea how to share this pain.
Nearing the end of the street, I jammed the brakes and skidded to the side. With my heart pounding, I stretched up to dig the bullets from my pocket. My entire being vibrated as I loaded the gun, the small clink and grate of metal-like little shots of electricity injected in my nerves as I slid each one into the chamber. Unsteadily, I set the gun on the seat next to me.
The town was dead, no traffic or evidence of life.
I flew.
As I left the town behind, I picked up my cellphone and dialed 911. I told the operator where I was going and what I knew I would find. I hung up when I was told not to approach them.
Memories engulfed me, expanded my chest and mind, the anguish and ecstasy of that summer, my hopes, the immense love I’d found in her and the insurmountable heartbreak it’d cost us. As I squinted to find the old dirt road and pulled over to the side, it felt as if it all culminated here, in a moment when I would either win it all or lose my reason to live.
A break in the forest, a barely visible overgrown road.
My spirit stirred.
They were here.
Steeling myself, I took the gun in a sweaty palm and stepped from the car.
Torpid air belted my face, a rush too warm, my skin tacky and moist. Loose rocks crunched under my feet as I inched up the road veiled in branches and bushes, gun braced by two hands and pointed out in front of me.
Curls of aggression snaked around my limbs, muscles tensed as I came up around the bend. Shallow, uncontrolled breaths filled the night.
A roll of hatred tripped my senses when the tail of Troy’s truck came into view. My pulse stuttered when I edged around the side.
To the right, Maggie lay in ash and soot with her back propped halfway against a log. Her head lolled, her eyes fluttering as she drifted in and out. Dried blood was caked around a gash on her forehead. Matted, tangled hair stuck to her face. Her lips moved with incoherent sounds and disregarded pleas.
At the far right fringes of the field was Jonathan. He rocked beneath a tree, hugging his knees to his chest. Nearly imperceptible convulsions jerked his shoulders, the child silent as he cried.
And across the long deadened fire, to my left, Troy stood behind a log. One heavy boot was braced near the top and a shotgun was balanced across his thigh.
I emerged into the open field, the gun drawn in front of me.
“Knew you’d come.” Troy didn’t look my way, just stared across the space at Maggie as he spoke. He shifted in agitation and hiked the barrel higher as he resituated his aim on Maggie. Evil palpitated as a stagnant breeze, rippled and hovered in the air.
In it, I hesitated to even breathe.
Then I heard Maggie moan my name.
I so badly wanted to look at her, to call out that it would be okay. That soon we would be together and I’d never allow Troy to hurt her or Jonathan again. Instead I trained my attention on the sickness in front of me. Troy’s face twitched and pinched, a combination of hurt and fury. Derision barked from his mouth, as if he were choking back a sob. He turned his face to me, though the barrel remained steady on Maggie.
“Did you fuck my wife?” Delusional impressions of betrayal clouded his eyes, the sum of insanity, derangement and desperation lurking in the depths. Confusion and anger, as if he hadn’t forced Maggie with his vicious hand. I saw it there—the genuine belief that Maggie had been the one who’d hurt him.
I knew the combination made Troy more dangerous than I ever could have imagined.
Swallowing hard, I gripped the gun tighter, my finger firm on the trigger.
“You don’t want to do this, Troy. Just...let them go...and you and I...we’ll talk about this.”
This time an uncontained cry escaped Troy’s mouth.
“Talk about this? You touched her. I watched her, sneaking out your door...like a whore.” He tucked his face into the sleeve of his shirt and wiped his eyes, then jerked his attention back to Maggie. “How could you do this to me, Maggie? I loved you.”
I inched toward Maggie while facing Troy, desperate to make myself a barrier between them. I slid my feet along the soft dirt, each movement calculated, hoping to distract him without setting him off.
“And Jonathan…oh, God. Look at him. How didn’t I see it?”
“Come on, Troy...leave the boy out of it.” I hated the way my voice cracked, my fear set on display. I steadied myself, seeking some kind of control, fisting the grip of the gun firmer in my hand. I licked my lips and my heart pounded harder. “This is between you and me.”
Scorn lined Troy’s forehead. “Leave the boy out of it? Leave my family out of it? All these years that I took care of him. Worked every day to provide for him. I should have known.”
My family, I wanted to scream. Somehow I reined it in and kept it simmering inside. As much as I wanted to confront him, rush him and make him pay for what he’d done, I knew fighting with Troy was not going to save Maggie and Jonathan. I just had to keep Troy talking and keep the focus on myself. Stalling...praying the police would hurry and get there.
I shuffled an inch closer, but was still off to the side.
“It was me, Troy, you know I wanted her...that I went after her.” I edged closer, goading him. Come on, you piece of shit, look at me, take it out on me.
In the distance, a siren trilled.
Troy’s head jerked with the sound, and the barrel of the shotgun shook as he raised it higher in front of him, tears filling his eyes as he aimed. “Can’t believe you made me do this, Maggie. I warned you.”
Oh God...no.
I squeezed the trigger.
A shot broke through the night, rang in my ears. Time seemed to slow as the sound echoed and ricocheted in the space. I watched in shock as blood gushed from the small hole in the side of Troy’s head and streamed as darkened trails down the side of his face. I shook, the gun trembling out in front of me as I witnessed the shotgun tumble from Troy’s hands, the man frozen wide-eyed before he fell to the ground.
How many times had I imagined taking Troy’s life? I’d imagined the satisfaction in making him feel some of the pain he’d inflicted on Maggie. I’d thought it would somehow feel like justice, a punishment for every wrong he’d done.
I swallowed down the bile that rose in my throat when I looked down at Troy’s lifeless body. There was no pleasure, only overwhelming relief that Maggie was finally free.
The gun slipped from my hand and landed with a soft thud on the ground. I turned slowly, my movements burdened by what had just occurred. I met Maggie’s eyes. They were so wide—too wide. She stared back at me as her hand sought her stomach. When she raised her hand in front of her face, blood dripped from her fingertips.
In the moment, I’d been too lost in the horror unfolding in front of me that I’d been unable to recognize an even greater horror was taking place. I’d not even heard another shot.
The girl, the one who’d taken me whole, struggled to take in a breath.
My spirit thrashed.
Crossing the space in five steps, I fell to my knees.
“Nnnn...no...oh God, Maggie, no. Baby, no.” My hands flitted inches over her torso. My eyes blurred, and I was powerless to do anything but watch the blood spread from the wound in her belly, soaking the front of her shirt.
Her eyes fluttered as she drifted, and her head bobbed to the side. I grabbed her face with both hands, held her firm as I shook her, kissed her mouth. I pressed my forehead to hers. “Don’t leave me, Maggie! Don’t you dare leave me!”
She struggled against the tide pulling her away, a sharp breath sucked between her lips.
I held her face firmer, pulled back to search her eyes as I yelled, “Look at me! Do you hear me! Do not close your eyes.”
Her mouth lifted at one side, a smile I knew meant so many things. I love you...thank you...goodbye. Her eyes pled as she managed to force out our son’s name.
“No, no, no...Maggie, no!” I shook her shoulders when her eyes fluttered again. Her head rolled back and snapped forward with no resistance.
When We Collide Page 26
