by Natalie Wrye
Three hours later, the rising dawn brings the rain and fat, pear-shaped beads of water drum against my window, tapping a dreary beat. It matches the slowing beat of my stupid fucking heart—a heart that won’t behave or stand down.
I blink slowly as the fatigue of the last few days finds me, gripping tight. I almost give into it, nearly succumbing to slumber when a soft muffled sound brings me back from the brink of unconsciousness.
I turn towards the sidewalk and discover Delilah standing in her threshold’s doorway. She hunches against the rain.
Her hair is straightened and sleek, a silky sheet of glossy brown. Her lips are painted red—artificially red—not that natural blushy red that I’ve grown accustomed to, and she wears a dark black skirt suit, the jacket and skirt fitting her body perfectly, accentuating her petite but curvaceous shape. The shirt beneath the jacket is blue—vivid blue, as cobalt as her amazing eyes.
I reach for the door, opening it.
Del bypasses me, as I’m hopping out, picking up the pace as she heads down the street. I jog after her, trying to keep up. My gait is slow next to her power-walk; she struts in sky-high heels like they don’t exist. There’s nothing Del can’t master, nothing she can’t rightfully conquer. She’s built for business, pleasure, and everything in between. She’s everything I didn’t know I needed… wrapped in one smoldering ass package.
She hits the corner on her street with a jolting force, heading around the bend with me in hot pursuit. The gust of air that greets us is muggy, breezy and wet from the rain that now drizzles. Where there was once sun just an hour ago, there are now clouds, dark and ominous, moving swiftly across the sky. Through the light rain shower, I speak to Del’s retreating back.
“You can trust me.” There’s silence in return.
“You have to know that I didn’t set this up, that I didn’t intend for this to happen.” Still nothing.
“Hurting you was never part of the deal. I didn’t plan this.”
She scoffs harshly. “Yeah… right.”
That’s it. I’ve finally caught my breath, but my patience has run out. I grab Del’s elbow, spinning her towards me. She stops walking immediately, and now we are face-to-face. The rain begins to fall faster.
“Okay, Del. You wanna talk about trust? Let’s talk about trust. You can’t trust me? Oh, because you were so honest, right?” I hear her intake of breath, but I don’t stop. “Look, Del, we both held things back from each other… but what about the things that we didn’t? What about the things that we shared? Weren’t those real? They were for me.”
She pauses momentarily, glancing down towards the ground. The quiet is deafening, making the rain sound like a roar. Though we are in the cemented sidewalk on an otherwise frequented street, we are alone, and it almost feels as if we are back in the cabin again, returned to the woods.
Our faces are dripping wet; our clothes are soaked through. Rivulets of rain fall down Del’s face like tears, and I’m not quite sure that they aren’t. She lifts her eyes to meet mine.
“No, Javi,” she states determinedly. “You don’t get to make the calls, anymore. I’m done being your damsel in distress.”
She turns suddenly, making a beeline towards a nearby car. She rummages through her purse, retrieving keys and opening the door to an Audi A8. Same make and model as mine.
It’s all happening so fast. One minute, I’m staring into her face. The next minute, she’s hopping behind the wheel, ready to leave me drifting in the wind. I’ve never been the kind of man who couldn’t talk to women, never understood that tongue-tied type. But when I’m around Del, I’m sometimes lost for words. With her, there are some things I just can’t say…
I rush to my own car, which thankfully isn’t far away. When I pull up close enough to hers, I can hear the muffled thumps. She’s beating the steering wheel with a closed fist, using the other to turn an ignition that won’t start. She doesn’t see me, and for the first time since we’ve met, I’m happy that she can’t. A final thud sounds in the car, and then she’s out, hustling through the pouring rain like her life is depending on it. I’m right beside her when she does. I pull up next to her as she walks from her car to the adjacent street.
“Get in, Del.”
The downpour drenches us both but she ignores it, stomping through huge puddles with the gait of a gladiator. “You can go now, Javi.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Get in.” She flings her wet hair over her shoulder in response, sort of a “fuck you” without the middle finger. Nonetheless, I keep cruising beside her.
Rainwater is tunneling into my open window. I’ll be swimming in this car if I don’t make a change. I can live with the wet leather; I’d prefer not to without Del.
She keeps trotting down the street, black bag in hand, getting more and more drenched with each passing minute. Her black jacket’s been left behind, and her dark blue shirt is barely passing as clothing. I see right through to the white silk beneath. I check around to make sure that no one else can. I notice something, and I almost chuckle. I continue speaking over the drum of raindrops.
“If you’re looking for the bus stop, it’s in the opposite direction… and two miles away.”
Del stops on a dime, turning to look behind her. She shields her face from the rain with her hand, muttering “Shit” before heading the way I’ve pointed.
“You might as well get in,” I resume. “I’ll take you to the stop. We don’t have to talk or anything. I’ll just drop you off.” I pause before saying the next words.
“Aren’t you tired, Del? Aren’t you tired of running? I know I am.”
She hesitates briefly before halting completely. She chews her already-red lip, tapping a heel on the ground with impatience. She’s thinking. I can almost hear her thoughts. She turns suddenly towards me.
“Fine,” she exclaims. “I’ll get in. But take me straight to the bus-stop or no deal.”
I nod resolutely. “Of course. You got it. Whatever you say.”
I hit a switch near my armrest, opening all of the doors. I prepare for Del to take the passenger seat, but when she doesn’t, I am floored. She hops directly in the backseat, pulling her door closed with a resounding thwack.
I close the open window next to my seat… and then I pull away.
Homemade Dynamite
JAVI
“I need to explain some things to you,” I say.
“I thought you said we didn’t have to talk.”
My voice is deadpan. “I lied.”
I watch her cross her shapely, smooth legs. “Shocking.”
On the last syllable, we pass her bus stop. Both of us are staring too intently out of our windows to really notice. The downpour picks up, and we cut a path across the main streets, heading in the direction of the San Mateo-Hayward Bridge, heading out of the city as my car sloshes through the rain-slicked roads. I pass The Sweet Spot on the way and don’t even blink. Fuck it. I need the extra time to talk to Del, anyway. Through the thunderstorm, I swear I see a slick silver car in my rearview window, trailing like a shimmery shadow. It passes through my periphery, coming and going like an imagined apparition. Maybe I am imagining it. To be honest, I can’t even care.
With Del’s face filling my rearview mirror, her walnut hair wild and wavy again, thanks to the rain, I can barely muster up the conviction to see anything else. Her skin is smooth, damp and dewy, and her lips—those fucking lips—are swollen and so unbelievably kissable.
She’s gorgeous. She’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. Even when she’s scowling… like she is at me this very second.
“How dare you?” she rasps at last from the back seat. “How dare you say that to me? After everything? After you hid things from me? After you lied? I don’t even know who you are, Javi.” She shakes her head, causing wisps of wet hair to go flying sideways.
“And I’m not going to be a pawn in one of your little games anymore,” she says, her voice rising. “I’ll admit: I had my fau
lts. Huge, glaring faults, and I wasn’t blameless. But that does not excuse what you’ve done. What next?”
The force of her anger hits me like a blow across the face. I feel so fucking misunderstood. Every step that I’ve taken under these circumstances, every move that I’ve made has been with her in mind. Making sure that she’s alright. Making sure that she’s safe.
It’s the thought that has kept me going… even when I wanted to give up. But I’m not going to keep taking these licks. I’m going to fight. Fight back for what I want.
“Okay, Del, I’m going to make this easier for both of us. Let me tell you a little bit about myself.” I twist my fist. “I was an unyielding jackass. A secretive, pig-headed prick with a foul mouth and an even fouler attitude. And if you were saying this two and a half months ago, you’d be right. Everything I did was twisted. Utterly fucked up… until you. Until Melanie. “
I watch Del close her eyes, her small body going still.
My words are still hanging in the air, marinating between us. Until the sound of crashing metal, sudden and sharp, clamp down on the car, pushing out every other sound. The silver car—my phantom—sideswipes my Audi, sending it swinging to the right. The car just hit an immense divot, some unseen hole. And now it leans at an angle that no vehicle of its size should ever lean. The right side of the trunk sticks straight in the air. We hang for what seems like an infinity… and now we’re going over.
Over the edge of the bridge. Over the small and ineffective guardrail. Tilting. Plunging. Plummeting… into the water below.
Gravity pulls me all the way to the opposite wall of the car. It seems as if everything is running in slow motion. I see myself sail over the aisle, thudding soundly above the seats. I feel the ripping of my arm as the weight of my body slings me across adjacent seats.
The Audi is tumbling, rolling. I watch the roof of the trunk reposition itself beneath my feet. My own legs are suspended above my head. The fall is almost graceful, almost poetry in motion. There is something beautiful about the scene before me. A world turned upside down. A spinning perspective.
I think I am dying. I may already be dead.
After what seems like an interminable amount of time, we turn upright for a split second before we crash violently into the rough waters of the water. I’m slammed down back into my seat, and when I open my eyes, several seconds later, I find myself slumped over the seat.
My right arm is screaming in pain. My heart is hammering. The car beneath me is sinking… slipping slowly but surely into a swirling blue-gray abyss. I reach for the window next to my seat. The windows slide open… and I have never been more relieved in my entire existence.
We have to go. Go. Go. Go.
The water line hasn’t reached the windows yet, but it will. Soon. My thoughts are moving at warp-speed. It’s been about twenty seconds since my eyes have opened, and I am already kicked into high gear, pushing Del’s glass window down as far as I can get it before pushing her out of its open space. She launches roughly out of the window just as the waterline reaches its edge.
The water is cold, ice cold. It stabs me in a thousand different places on my body… all at once. It’s like I’ve fallen onto a bed of tiny needles and each one is pricking the surface of my skin, creating these intense shocks that jolt my system as I break the plane of the water.
I have to get my bearings together and recover before I even start swimming toward the water’s surface from where I’ve landed in the depths. I am gasping as soon as I reach the air above. And I feel heavy. My clothes are forcefully weighing on me. I sling my hair out of my eyes as I tread water… and now I am on the hunt.
Delilah. Where is she?
I’m swimming frantically now, turning in circles. And then I see a brown head of hair above the water. She’s about thirty yards away from me, swimming slowly, her hands swiping softly at the water.
She’s treading water. She’s okay. I glance over to her right and see that the Audi is nearly gone now, the rounded roof and windows the only visible part of the entire mass. From there, I am heading straight for Del.
“Are you okay?” I manage to yell to her, above the still-beating rain.
She swivels to meet my eye, gasping audibly when she sees my face. Her eyes are big, blue saucers set in the middle of a surprised and pretty face. Her countenance turns grave as her stare shifts to focus behind me. Her eyes scan our surroundings, performing a quick surveillance.
I see confusion in her irises. I see hope. Fear. Need.
She needs me… and I need her. We’ve got to get out of this water. I decide right there on the spot. We can make it. We will make it.
“Hold on,” I say to her. The words are practically an exhale. I extend my shoulder for her hold. I stare at her grimly. “We have to make it to the other side,” I yell. “There’s nowhere else to go! Stay with me, alright?”
With wide eyes, she gazes at me, nodding slowly, her head bobbing up and down in acceptance... or accepted defeat. The task is daunting, I know. And from the look on her face, she knows it, too. But I’ve already made my decision. And I’m not turning back.
Pain is shooting like sparks through my throbbing arm, but I’m ignoring it for the most part. I can’t afford to give it more than a fleeting thought. Not with the ominous mission laid before us weighing on me.
The rain continues to fall down on us. It is relentless. It is a thick, grey curtain that obscures the way to freedom. If you could call it that.
We swim and we swim and we swim. There’s so much water. Too much water. So much space to cover. It seems just never-ending.
Wave after wave pushes us as we cover ground. We swim along the current, but it feels almost useless. Wall after wall of water pounds us. And we are fighting briny breakers with every paddle. As we reach the halfway point inside of the Bay, our gasps, which were once uneven, are now ragged, erratic from sheer exertion. And by the time we reach the three-quarter mark, we pant in panicking spurts.
Every inhalation is rough. Every exhale—depleted.
We’re running out of steam. We’re not even taking breaths anymore; we are sucking them, trying to extract every bit of oxygen that our aching lungs can take. I look behind me (as I’ve been doing every ten seconds) to find that Del has stopped. She’s grimacing in pain, her pretty mouth gaping as she exhales loudly, coarsely.
I circle back around towards her. As I draw nearer, she shakes her head, whipping brown strands of hair back and forth. She can take no more, she’s saying. She’s done. I glance over my shoulder at the now-nearby shore. I look back to her.
We’ve come too far to give up now, to just quit. It was a miracle that we even survived the crash. Now for our journey to end when we are so close?
No fucking way. I won’t allow it.
And suddenly, my fingers are moving before my brain can keep up. While my brain is still lagging behind, I’ve already started swimming for the coast, dragging my princess behind me as I close the distance between land and us. The water was already choppy, but it grows rougher by the minute. My entire body is on fire: my arm, especially… my legs, my lungs. It’s as if I’ve inhaled napalm, and each breath is more painful than the previous.
I want to stop. Rest. Quit.
Stand-still floating is out of the question. Taking a breather? Not an option. The ebb and flow is too tumultuous. If I stop now, we’ll drown.
Delilah’s groans might be the only things that spur me on. Each small sound pushes me farther and farther, closer and closer to dry land. Yards and yards pass until, seemingly resurged, she starts to swim again, thrusting at the water’s surface. I start to feel the density of the water change. The water depth wanes. It’s getting shallower.
Almost there. Almost there.
Every limb is stretched to its max, reaching… reaching. My extremities are grasping for terrain, aching to touch earth. I cry out from the enormity of the pain I feel. Suddenly, a toe touches soil.
In that flicker of an instant,
I find strength I didn’t know I had, digging deeper, pulling my icy girl with as much force as I can muster. And now we are climbing, performing something closer to scaling than swimming now. Our feet and fingers now find sand and sediment mixed in our water, and we are clawing in search of anything we can clutch. We scrape and scramble at the Bay’s shore until finally we gain a solid foothold on dry land. I hear the heavy huffs of the girl beside me as we sink into the ground.
We made it. It’s the final thought I have before I wobble my tired limbs onto the muddy coast. And then I collapse… and all becomes black.
Hideaway
JAVI
I feel the warmth of the bed before I see it, before its comfort even registers to my sluggish mind. It feels warm and welcomed—delicious. I remember being cold not too long ago, so cold. I could see my own breath.
I was sweating, though. Cold and sweating. How? It wasn’t from the temperature, no. It was the swimming, the exertion. I was so tired. My joints ached. My bones hurt, and my tongue was numb. I’m still on the ground…
Holy shit. I passed out.
My eyes shoot open at the thought, and I start to rise from where I lie. My movements are quick and panicked, and I knock over something clunky in my haste. A gentle hand lands on my shoulder, and I nearly jump out of my skin, hopping so far backwards that I land on my back from where I started to sit.
I look upward and find kind brown eyes staring back at me. The eyes circle me, stopping somewhere near my feet. They have a hand attached, and the hand is reaching out towards me, inviting me in with an open palm.
I act instinctively, grabbing the hand to pull myself into a seated position before withdrawing quickly, wary. I’m not outside anymore. I don’t know where I am.
A warm and wooden room frames the brown eyes. Rich hues of gold and brown, yellow and red adorn the walls. Intricate pieces hang high above. Some colorful tribal masks are planted midway.
