Dangerous Boys

by Abigail Haas

  If I run, there’ll be no coming back. I’ll have nothing, nobody, and although the thought doesn’t chill me like it should, I can’t stop my brain from ticking forwards, playing two moves ahead the way Oliver always taught me.

  How do I get out of town?

  Blake is oblivious out front. I could be out of the window and away through the back yard before he even makes the next level, but I’d have only a twenty-minute headstart before he thinks to look for me; another thirty at most before it gets back to Weber and they start checking the roads and bus stations.

  Weber.

  I stop, imagining his face as he hears the news.

  If I run now, he’ll know I’m guilty.

  If I run now, I won’t make it far.

  I take another breath, forcing myself to calm, then I finish packing the duffel with essentials. I stash it back up on the closet shelf, out of sight. It’s there if I need it, I tell myself, still feeling the itch to run.

  If everything goes right for me, I won’t need it at all.

  I take a shower, standing under the scalding shower jets until the hot water runs out and the dirt and blood are rinsed clean away from my body. Then I wrap a towel around my body and smear the steam from the mirror, assessing my reflection; trying to see myself through somebody else’s eyes. The bruises are still ringed around my neck, and there’s an ugly welt above my right eye. I don’t try to hide them. Instead, I pick a green sweater that brings out the purple in the bruise, and leave the smudged shadows under my eyes. I braid my hair neatly, pull on jeans and winter boots, and pack a different bag for the hospital: a small backpack I fill with text books, a spare sweater and toiletries. I’ll be keeping vigil at the hospital as long as it takes, so I grab a pillow and quilt from my closet too, then head out front to where Blake is still waiting in the car.

  ‘Good news,’ he tells me, when I pile in the front seat. ‘Boyfriend woke up.’

  I freeze.

  ‘He did? When? Is he OK?’ I demand, panic running like ice through my veins. They said he wouldn’t be awake for hours, maybe even days. It’s the only reason I figured it was safe to leave him, to take one tiny moment away from the hospital.

  I was wrong.

  ‘Who knows?’ Blake shrugs. ‘They just said he’s out of the woods. That’s good news, right?’ He frowns at me, and I manage to smooth my panicked expression into a smile.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ I murmur, but all the drive back to the hospital, my heart races with fear. He could be talking to them by now, telling him everything. I was supposed to be there, to make my case. To get our stories straight.

  The moment we arrive I leap out of the car, sprinting back through the lobby and leaving Blake behind. I’m breathless by the time I reach Ethan’s room, but my footsteps fade to a falter when I see him through the glass, sitting up in bed.

  His face is pale, his body still hooked with wires and tubes. Weber is sitting in the chair by the window, taking notes, and there’s another man in there too, someone I’ve never seen in a heavy overcoat, his expression stern.

  Ethan meets my eyes through the glass. He stares at me a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turns away and I know it’s over.

  He’s telling them everything. He’s telling them the truth.

  I stabbed him. It was me.

  We had a plan and I was foolish enough to think it would work. I’d come a long way from that tentative, waiting girl at the end of summer, but I was still naive, expecting everything to fall into place just because I so badly needed it to.

  But desperation gives rise to its own kind of hope, and as I set the pieces in motion, it was almost laughable how simple it was: just a long list of tasks to be checked off in turn, small cogs that would wind the machine of my freedom, one by one. My days were full of planning, fevered and drifting; my nights became dreamscapes of skyscrapers and busy, rushing streets. Of kisses I didn’t have to hide in the dark, and a life that would finally – finally – be mine.

  I was close. I could taste it. Soon, I would be gone.

  All that was left was Ethan.

  I deliberated all week as I made the rest of my plans, blowing off our date nights under the pretext of work, and stress, and Mom. I didn’t want to lie to his face, but a part of me couldn’t bear the thought of letting him down.

  He believed in me. Like nobody had before, he wanted to protect me, and love me, and keep me safe. The problem was, I didn’t want protecting. That girl he loved didn’t exist, not any more.

  Maybe she never had.

  Finally, after too many texts and missed calls, he dropped by unannounced and found me packing Mom’s things into her case.

  ‘We’re taking a trip,’ I told him brightly, ducking out of his embrace to go fetch my toiletries.

  ‘What? When?’ he blinked at me in surprise.

  ‘Tonight,’ I announced. Mom’s flight was early in the evening, I would drop her off, and then meet Oliver. It was all planned.

  ‘It’s last minute, but her cousin invited us, and I figured the change of scene would be good for her. I was going to come by later,’ I added, ‘and say a proper goodbye.’

  The final one.

  ‘But I’ll miss you.’ Ethan stuck out his lower lip, all puppy-dog eyes.

  ‘I won’t be gone long,’ I lied, not wanting to get into it now. I needed to think of the perfect words to let him down with, but more than that, I wanted to be somewhere I could walk away when it was all done; not here, without an escape. ‘Just a week or so. You’ll survive.’

  ‘I could come with you.’ Ethan looped his thumbs into my pockets, keeping me in place. ‘Help you out with your mom.’

  ‘No, it’s fine,’ I replied quickly. ‘You have work, remember?’

  Ethan sighed. ‘You’re leaving me all alone. Olly’s going away too.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ I tried to sound disinterested. ‘I forgot.’

  ‘He’s going to stay with friends in New York, try and get a job.’ Ethan rolled his eyes.

  ‘Sounds fun,’ I murmured, but Ethan just scowled.

  ‘Probably just sponge of some other poor schmuck for a while.’

  ‘Hey,’ I scolded him, feeling a flare of defensiveness. ‘Don’t say that. Oliver pays his way.’

  ‘Sure, in flattery,’ Ethan muttered. ‘I’m getting sick of his games. I swear, Mom would sell the house out from under us and give him the cheque just to keep him happy.’

  ‘Don’t be jealous,’ I told him, fighting to keep my tone even. Ethan would never know what his brother had done for me. ‘It’s not cute.’

  ‘Aww, I’m sorry.’ Ethan smiled again, his hands on me, grabbing. ‘And I’m not jealous. How can I be, when I’ve got the one thing he hasn’t?’

  His words sliced through me. I pulled back. ‘I don’t belong to you,’ I said, frowning at him. ‘Is that what you think?’

  Ethan blinked. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Just, you know. I’m yours. You’re mine.’ He kissed me, pulling me back against him until we were horizontal on my bed. I kissed him back, knowing it was a goodbye, wanting to give him something before I left him forever.

  But it felt all wrong. A betrayal – but of Oliver this time.

  ‘I’ve missed you,’ Ethan grinned, slipping his hands up under my shirt. ‘It’s been too long.’

  His hands slid against me, soft enough to send a shiver through me. I kissed him back, slow and sweet like he wanted, wrapping my legs around his waist, trailing my fingers over the ridge of his shoulders, dropping butterfly kisses on the sensitive parts of his neck. I tended to him, doing everything right, fighting that unease curled around my organs. He deserved this, I told myself, arching against him, but I couldn’t shake the sense of wrongness vibrating in every cell. Each touch felt like a promise I wouldn’t be keeping. Every kiss was a lie.

  Ethan panted against me, sliding his hands across my stomach and lower still.

  I recoiled from him, before I could stop myself.

  Ethan
looked at me with confusion.

  ‘I’m not feeling it,’ I apologized quickly, avoiding his gaze. ‘It’s, umm, that time of the month.’

  ‘It’s OK.’ Ethan stroked over my bare shoulder. ‘There’s still stuff we can do,’ he smiled, trailing his hand down over my breast.

  I flinched back again. ‘I said, I’m not in the mood.’

  ‘But it’s been forever.’ Ethan’s voice was edged with complaint. ‘You’re always busy, or running late for class.’

  I fought to keep my temper in check. I’d wanted this to be a good night, one last sweet memory for him. ‘I’m sorry, babe.’ I forced a smile. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’

  ‘I know one way you could do that . . . ’ Ethan gave me a suggestive smile. He took my hand and moved it to his crotch, pressing against the hard denim.

  Something inside me snapped. ‘I said, I’m not in the mood!’ I scrambled away from him, getting to my feet. ‘Or don’t you care how I feel just as long as you get off?’

  Ethan looked wounded. ‘I didn’t mean that!’

  ‘No, you did!’ My voice rose, frustrated. ‘I told you I didn’t want to, and you still wouldn’t listen. I’m not some fuck toy you can pick up any time you like!’

  Ethan’s face changed. ‘You’re just feeling emotional,’ he said, looking cautious. ‘PMS. It’s OK, I’m sorry, babe. We can just cuddle.’

  I wanted to scream.

  ‘I can’t do this any more.’ The words were out of my mouth before I could take them back, but once I heard them, loud in the silence, I felt a swell of relief so sharp it could have knocked me off my feet.

  Yes. This was it. I couldn’t pretend any longer. I would tell him now, before I left. Wipe the slate clean before I even left Haverford, so that tomorrow, I could depart with nothing holding me back.

  Ethan sat up slowly. ‘I don’t know what you’re saying.’ His eyes watched me, still cautious.

  ‘Us. This.’ I caught my breath. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so, so, sorry, but . . . it’s too much. I can’t.’

  Ethan’s mouth fell open. I could see the realization settle across his face. ‘You’re breaking up with me?’

  His voice was a whisper and, despite everything, I felt an ache slice through me.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ A sob rose up in my throat. He was the one good person left in my world, and I was hurting him anyway.

  Hurting him to be free.

  ‘What did I do?’ Ethan swallowed, springing to his feet. He crossed the room to me, grabbing my hands. ‘Was this because I pressured you? I’m sorry, I was being a pig. I won’t do it again, I swear.’

  ‘No.’ I pulled away. ‘It’s not that. It’s not you! It’s . . . everything.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ He looked bewildered, his blue eyes wide with emotion. ‘Tell me what to do, Chloe. I’ll do anything!’

  ‘You can’t,’ I cried. ‘It’s over, OK? We’re done.’

  There was silence.

  Ethan caught his breath, his chest rising and falling as he clenched his jaw and looked around the room. ‘You’re just stressed, I get it,’ he said, sounding determined. ‘With your mom, and school, it’s all been too much for you.’

  ‘Ethan . . . ’ I protested weakly.

  ‘It’s OK.’ He gave me a tight smile. ‘You’re right, you need a break. Some space to think. This trip will be good for you, and then we’ll talk when you get back.’

  I watched him helplessly. He wasn’t listening. He didn’t understand. That was Ethan, right from the start. He’d decided on me, that day in the diner, all charm and boyish enthusiasm, talking me into our very first date by sheer force of will. He’d picked me, and that was it. In his mind, we belonged together.

  But I didn’t belong to anyone at all.

  I exhaled. ‘Fine,’ I lied, not wanting to hurt him any more. ‘We’ll talk when I get back.’

  ‘Do you need a ride to the airport?’ he offered, pulling his sweater back on.

  I shook my head. ‘No. We’re good.’

  Ethan smiled at me again, tender as ever. ‘We’ll be OK,’ he reassured me. ‘I know things are tough, and you feel like you can’t handle it. But you can. I’m not giving up on you yet.’

  He leaned down to kiss my cheek as he passed me towards the door. I felt the brush of his lips against me and turned my head away.

  ‘Goodbye,’ I whispered, knowing it was the last time.

  ‘See you soon.’

  I listened to him thump downstairs and let himself out, closing the door softly behind him. The last threads of guilt strung up around my heart finally snapped.

  I thought that was the last I’d ever see of him.

  I was wrong.

  I pace, panicked, down faded hospital hallways and back through endless swinging doors. I’m trying to keep myself together, keep the terror hemmed inside, but how can I keep pretending now that Ethan is awake?

  I can feel him now, taking a crowbar to my delicate cages, cracking them wide open and letting the darkness loose. All my secrets and fear and tangled, twisted lies, taking flight around me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

  I should have run, back at the house, when I still had the chance. I should have got the hell out of town before it locked me up here forever.

  I circle back to the ICU, expecting to meet a pack of deputies at any moment. The curtains to Ethan’s room are pulled closed, and I can just imagine Weber’s woeful expression, noting down the long list of my crimes. I shiver, already feeling the sting of metal on my wrists, the harsh glare of the interview room.

  I know what’s coming to me, the only question is, when?

  ‘Chloe.’

  I hear Weber’s call from by the elevators and turn, confused. He’s not in there?

  ‘I thought you were talking to Ethan,’ I say, my voice shaking slightly.

  Weber doesn’t seem to notice. ‘I was, but the doctors needed to check him out first.’

  ‘Is everything OK?’ I ask, my mind still racing. ‘They said he was fine.’

  ‘Nothing to worry about.’ Weber scrutinizes me now. ‘Just some more tests. He’s been through a lot.’

  I nod, forcing myself to seem calm. ‘Did he, say anything?’ I ask, casually.

  ‘Not much yet. He was pretty confused and out of it from the drugs.’ Weber pauses. ‘When the doctors are finished, I’ll sit down for a real chat.’

  ‘Right.’ My heart pounds. ‘I don’t know how much he’ll remember,’ I add, ‘he was already unconscious when I dragged him out. I think he hit his head pretty hard.’

  Weber narrows his eyes. ‘We’ll see about that.’

  The door opens and the doctor emerges. Weber moves to enter, but he blocks the path. ‘Ethan needs to rest now,’ the doctor informs him.

  Weber scowls. ‘I have to speak to him. This is a murder investigation, remember?’

  The doctor holds fast. ‘It’ll have to wait. He’s been through a severe trauma. I want to minimize any additional stress, at least for a few more hours until we see how he stabilizes.’

  Weber shoots me a look. ‘Then nobody goes in, you understand.’

  I take a step back. ‘It’s OK, I was just going to find Annette. I think she’s in the cafeteria. I could get you something,’ I add, with a helpful smile.

  Weber shakes his head, and turns back to the doctor. ‘I want to see his medical records, I need to know everything that happened to him.’

  ‘Of course.’

  The doctor gestures for Weber to follow him, but Weber doesn’t take a step until I do.

  ‘I’ll be downstairs if you need me,’ I tell him, still sounding upbeat. I walk carefully down the hall towards the elevator, feeling his eyes on me. As the doors close, I see him finally turn and follow the doctor away.

  I wait until the elevator reached the basement, then I hit the button again and head straight back up to the ICU. I walk fast back down the hallway and check around, but nobody is in sight. I crack the door to Ethan’
s room, and step inside.

  It’s dark, and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim. I edge towards the bed, tip-toeing silently, but suddenly, the lamp turns on and the room is flooded with golden light.

  My heart stops.

  Ethan is sitting up in bed.

  ‘I was wondering when you’d show up.’

  I took Mom to the airport and hugged her goodbye with tears stinging in the back of my throat.

  ‘You’ve got magazines for the flight,’ I told her, fussing with her scarf in the tiny local departures terminal. ‘And I packed you a snack too. I wrote down all your details for the connection. Carol will be there to pick you up at the other end.’

  I tried to think if I was missing anything, what more I could have done. ‘I packed a file of important papers in your luggage,’ I added, remembering the folder of insurance documents and bank details. ‘Give them to Carol, she’ll know what to do.’

  Mom’s eyes filled with tears. I hadn’t told her what was really happening, that when Carol called to find out where I was, I would already be gone. But she knew, this was an ending, I could see it in her expression.

  ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart,’ she whispered, hugging me tight. ‘I tried, I really did.’

  ‘I know.’ My voice cracked, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and the lavender lotion she always liked to use. ‘Me too.’

  I watched her join the line for security, her steps hesitant and slow. A guard patiently showed her how to put her things in the bin for the scanner and step through the metal detector.

  She would be OK, I told myself. People would be kind to her, kinder than I could manage, and perhaps she would get better because she had to now. She had no other choice and, as I’d discovered these past months, necessity could drive you to things that seemed impossible, once upon a time.

  She turned back, her eyes catching mine for a moment. I felt a deep ache cut through my chest at the plaintive look in her eyes. It wasn’t too late, I could run to her, take her home again, and keep her safe, just the two of us. I could get another ticket and go with her, just as we’d planned; find a way to start fresh somewhere else, together.