by B. N. Toler
“So much for the lady part,” I gibe.
“I’m a married woman now. I need to live vicariously through you.” She wipes her hands on the towel hanging off of the sink behind her.
“Are things not…” I pause. Do I really want to know about Lila and my brother’s sex life?
“No, your brother is phenomenal—”
“Enough said!” I interrupt her, frantically trying to block the image of Hudson and Lila getting it on out of my head.
“I’ll stop if you spill,” she negotiates.
“Only once,” I sigh, gladly taking her barter.
“I knew it. Was he big?”
“Lila!” I groan, knowing Rhett can hear us.
“He is. I knew it. He looks big.” She nods with certainty.
“Okay, no more. We will discuss it later,” I whisper, desperate to end this conversation.
“Yes, we most certainly will,” she warns. “So, I guess this means you’ve moved on?”
“What?”
“From Thomas.” Her tone is delicate, as if she understands the mention of his name may ignite some enthralled emotion, like anger.
Looking away from her, I let my gaze settle on my feet. Thomas’s name does ignite something. Revenge. That feeling like there’s an enraged rat, starving, trapped in a cage inside me, clawing at my insides. Nothing will sate its hunger other than destroying those who have wronged me.
“Definitely moved on.” I smile. “How have things been for you? Getting married and having a baby? That’s a lot.”
“Oh, don’t forget finding out your best friend and boyfriend are part of some special race that can heal people.”
“Yeah, that too.” I shrug.
“It’s been a pretty boring year,” she laughs, but it fades quickly. “I’m scared.” She says it so softly, I almost don’t hear it.
Placing my hand on hers, where it rests on the side of the tub, I say, “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine coming into this kind of life the way you have.”
“I wish you would’ve felt like you could’ve told me what you are and about your dreams and all of that, but I understand why you guys kept it to yourselves.”
Silence looms and I’m not sure what to say. “I’m glad you’re here, Lila.”
“Me too,” she sighs and I know she’s telling the truth, no matter how scared she is of what being what we are entails.
After my bath, Lila helps me dress and brushes my hair. Whit and Hudson come into the bathroom and help me walk back to the bedroom; although my legs are still too weak to apply any pressure to them, they more or less carry me. Lila brings me dinner and when she leaves, taking my empty plate and glass with her, she turns out my lights and leaves the door open. I stare into the dark, concluding Rhett will not return to see me tonight.
As I lay lost in thought, I twist the silver rectangle in my hand, thinking about the inscription.
Lucy Lawson
Bank of Richmond
Safe Deposit Box
In my dream world, I had an account at Bank of Richmond. I must have absorbed the information from her and twisted it to fit into the world I created. I reflect on more of Lucy’s words from right before I woke up, “There are answers here.” The answers must be in the safe deposit box. In my current state, I have no idea how to even begin planning to get to Virginia. It’s obviously going to take me some time to get myself together, and I have to spend time with my brothers.
I open the rectangle and run my thumb across the engraving when I feel eyes on me. There’s a figure in the doorway so I quickly close the necklace and shove it under my shirt. “Rhett?” I whisper.
“Yeah.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Of course,” he says softly as he approaches me.
“You seem off,” I reach out for his hand, and to my relief he takes it as he sits beside me.
“Just trying to let you get acclimated. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“Will you please sleep with me?” I beg in a whisper, needing to feel his arms around me.
“You couldn’t stop me.” He slides his jeans down and tugs his shirt off. Peeling the comforter back, he slips underneath it and next to me, pulling me to him so my head lays on his chest. His scent of soap and cologne brings warmth to my body, but I know better than to let it take hold. I’m still too weak to have my way with him. Instead, I nestle my head into the crook between his neck and shoulder and take a deep breath. In one strong whoosh, relaxation surges my body.
“I’m scared to go back to sleep,” I sigh. It’s odd to me that I feel so tired after being asleep for so long, but I’m fighting tooth and nail to keep my eyes open.
“Don’t be scared. I’ll be there with you.” He runs his hand gently over my head, soothing me and then I am out.
Snapping up, I awake suddenly in the night, struggling to breathe. Reaching out, I feel for Rhett, but he’s gone. He met me in my subconscious, and we talked about ways I can wake up if I ever feel like I’m losing control. After a few hours, he told me to go blank and sleep deep, so I cleared my head and dove deep down into my subconscious where there is nothing.
When I sleep deep, my mind unwinds, releasing any and all thought processes. It’s the only time I truly rest because my subconscious is always deciphering and sorting the information I’ve absorbed. Going blank is hard to do, but it really helps refuel me when I rest my mind.
After I went blank tonight, my slumber was disturbed by the feeling of ice-cold hands sliding around my throat. I tried to cry out, but as soon as I did the hands contracted, cutting off my breathing. It took me what felt like minutes to snap myself awake.
Closing my eyes, I fall back on the bed, trying to calm my breathing. Turning on my side, I try to force myself back to sleep when I hear hushed voices speaking. I strain my ears, but can barely make out words.
“You should have told her,” Sarah whispers.
“I will. Not now, Sarah,” Rhett whispers back. What the hell are they talking about?
More whispers transpire between them, but I can’t make out much of what they are saying.
“We need to help her…” The words drift in and out.
“Lucy has written it—”
“Sarah, shut it!” Rhett hisses. “She doesn’t know about it.”
I sit up and scoot closer to the edge of the bed, hoping it will help me hear them better.
“Lucy hid it for her to find later; in case she died. She had to have absorbed it at some point. Lucy knew she would.”
“Sarah, I don’t think she catalogues. Things she never sorted may just disappear. Her subconscious isn’t like a fucking library where I can just check shit out.”
“Dig deeper,” Sarah retorts.
Dig deeper? Is Rhett rummaging through my subconscious unbeknownst to me?
“It’s not exactly easy to do, and I don’t want to betray her trust.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sarah snorts. “You’re doing this for her.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“I know it Rhett. I’ve seen it, and we’re running out of time.”
“You’ve never had a vision of the future.”
“No, I haven’t and I know you don’t like that I saw her with him, but I—”
I hear a door open and the shuffle of feet. I quickly lie back down and scoot myself over.
“You guys all right?” I hear Whit ask in a groggy voice.
“Yeah. I’ll be back in a minute,” Sarah says softly.
What? Sarah and Whit are sleeping together?
“I’m just getting some water.” Rhett clears his throat and the sounds of footsteps descend down the hall. Whit obviously didn’t catch that little lie. Rhett doesn’t drink water. He can eat or drink anything humans can, but has no need to.
My heart is in my throat. Rhett has been digging through my subconscious? What is he looking for? What else has he discovered? My plans to leave to find the safe deposit box Lucy has in Ric
hmond must not have surfaced yet or he would have said something by now. And who did Sarah see me with that Rhett wouldn’t like?
I'm staring up at the ceiling when I hear Rhett come back into the bedroom. Closing my eyes, I pretend to be sleeping as he slides into bed beside me. My inner self rolls her eyes at me. Looks like you’re not the only one with secrets.
In a major leap of faith, I decide to trust Rhett and pretend I never heard the conversation. I know Rhett would never do anything to hurt me, at least I don’t think he would. Whatever it is he’s doing, he has noble reasons. My inner self teases, or it makes you feel better about your secret knowing he has a secret, before I silence her and close my eyes.
Months later, Sarah sits on the porch, next to me, hiding any indication as to her thoughts. Her eyes are blank sheets of ice blue set in a face of flawless ivory skin.
“Why won’t you just tell me?” I ask, annoyed.
“Why do you want to know?” She darts her eyes of blue fury in my direction.
“You don’t think I have a right to know who my biological father is?”
“You mean your mother’s rapist?” she corrects me.
“You know what I mean.” I shoot her a look, letting her know that was a low blow.
“Depends on why you want to know.” She runs her hand over her blonde hair, smoothing it back.
There’s no real significant reason I want to know—other than I want to hunt him down and kill him for being a sick bastard that raped women for money. Of course, I can’t tell Sarah that. “I just want to know what you know, Sarah.”
She rolls her eyes. “And what happens when I tell you? You will sit here and cry like a baby, which is what you do over everything. I can hear you now, blubbering away to Rhett. Oh Rhett, boohoo, my father was an evil man.” She twists her closed fists to her face as if she’s crying.
She stands and saunters back into the house as I fume over her not-so-flattering portrayal of me. I follow her, and as I’m about to say something she turns. “I’m not telling you, so you can just drop it.” She continues her way into the kitchen and I follow her, determined to get an answer.
Sarah’s demeanor towards me has been somewhat hostile, to say the least, since I woke up. I haven’t mustered up the courage to ask her if I’ve done something to warrant this treatment, afraid it will only fuel her wrath more.
As we enter the kitchen, Whit sits at the table, and she squeezes his shoulder as she takes a seat beside him. He smiles at her, and she looks back to me and rolls her eyes again. Whit and Sarah’s blossoming relationship has concerned me, but I have not voiced a word of it to anyone. First, it would be hypocritical of me to do so as Rhett and I are an item, and secondly, even though Sarah and I have our issues, I still want to see her happy. After everything she’s been through, she deserves it.
I stomp to the fridge, frustrated with her, when it hits me. Making my way around the table, she looks up at me and her lips flatten as she notices my expression. I plop down in the chair beside her and Whit and release a dramatic sigh. “Sarah, I think now is a good time.”
Her gaze meets mine, a confused expression spread across her face, and Whit looks to her, then back to me.
“Good time for what?” he quirks a curious brow.
Sarah glances at him and smiles slightly before returning her seething glare back to me. I’m playing a dangerous game using Whit to get to her, but she has left me no choice. All is fair in finding out the identity of your biological father and war.
“Oh, the suspense is killing me ladies. Are you pregnant, Aldo?” He laughs at me, joking about how I believed I had a baby in my dreams.
I roll my eyes, ignoring his obnoxious question. “Well, Sarah was trying to wait for the right time, but I’m not sure when that will ever be,” I shrug and sip my bottled water.
“For what?” Whit questions again, his eyes darting back and forth between us. Whit is striking now, not the baby faced, long-haired hippy he was when Lucy passed. Sarah is obviously smitten with him and wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize their relationship. Sarah shifts in her seat, and I can see she is not happy with where this conversation is going.
“The right time to tell us who our father is,” I say gently, as I look to Whit, ignoring Sarah’s wicked stare.
“You know who he is?” Whit’s mouth drops open slightly, as if it never occurred to him that she would know.
Sarah looks back to me and shakes her head.
“Who?” Whit asks, practically begging.
BOOM SARAH! I think to myself, knowing victory is mine. There is no way she’ll deny Whit an answer.
“I’ll tell you later, but don’t get too excited. You’ll be disappointed.” She pats Whit’s leg and stands up. “Let’s wait for Hudson, he’ll be home for dinner.” Well played. She is a more than worthy adversary.
“Yeah, good idea.” Whit stands and pushes his chair in. “I have to go get some things from the store. You want to come?” He looks to Sarah who has her eyes glued on me, her seething glare still trying to burn a hole through my skull.
“No, I think I’ll stay.” She smirks and shifts her eyes to him briefly. Oh shit! My inner self quickly hides under her bed. Another Lucy Lawson ode of wisdom rings through my mind—Be careful of the toes you step on today because they may be connected to the foot that kicks your ass tomorrow. Of course, she said tuchus, not ass.
“Okay, be back in a few.” When he leaves, I hop up quickly to exit the room. I make it into the hallway, when suddenly I’m slammed into the wall. I shriek as my head crashes against the frame of the doorway to the living room.
“You think you’re so clever,” Sarah growls through clenched teeth. She pulls me forward and slams me against the wall again. My vision blurs, but it’s the least of my worries as she presses her arm on my throat, choking me as I gasp for air. The room is spinning, and I think I’m going to pass out when she is jerked off of me, and I fall to the floor like a sack of potatoes, coughing and gasping for air.
“You think I don’t know what you’re up to?” she hisses.
“What the fuck Sarah?” Rhett roars at her. He turns and helps me stand as I continue my struggle to breathe. Sarah regains her composure and tries to lunge at me again, but Rhett moves between us.
Feeling something warm and wet on the back of my scalp, I touch it, and realize I’m bleeding from where my head hit the doorframe. I look at Rhett and panic. I’m not sure how he’ll react around blood. It’s never come up.
With that thought, his and Sarah’s fangs erupt and they stare at me, their eyes darkening and chests rising and falling rapidly. My heart does an Olympic dive into my stomach.
Oh shit!
Rhett holds a hand up to me and closes his eyes as if he’s pained, turning away from me. “It’s okay.” He swallows hard. “What’s going on here?” he asks Sarah, who is still staring at me.
“I was just asking her who my father was,” I answer defensively.
“You want to know, Aldo? Here ya go.” Sarah lunges at me, but is stopped by Rhett once again as he slams her against the wall, leaving a large hole crushed into the drywall.
“Stop it!” he roars at her with his fists clenched at his sides.
Sarah smirks, looking at me over Rhett’s shoulder. “There were two other women pregnant at the same time as your mother. All three were carrying the same man’s babies. All three women were murdered after giving birth, and your father was given one hundred thousand dollars per child produced. The other two women that died the same year as your mother had already made him four hundred thousand dollars in the years before you and your brothers were born. Congratulations, you have more siblings. The three of you made him three hundred thousand dollars, paid directly to him after your birth. He made another two hundred thousand dollars that year for your two half-sisters from the other two women. Guess where they are now,” she hisses coldly at me.
“Sarah!” Rhett shouts at her to stop. My eyes pool with tears, b
ut I refuse to cry because it will only fuel her cruelty.
“What? You coddle her constantly Rhett. She’s a big girl, she can take it,” Sarah roars at him. “Right, Aldo? You’re not going to cry and break down as usual, are you? It’s okay if you do. Rhett’s here to dry your tears and put you back together, as usual. You’re fucking pathetic!”
I glare at her, knowing Rhett is between us, preventing her from getting to me. Sarah loves to torture me by insulting me, saying I’m a crybaby and so on. This is nothing new, but this time she is being particularly nasty. Not to mention, this is the first time she has gotten physical with me.
“What’s your problem Sarah? I just want to know who he was. I didn’t realize that made me pathetic,” I yell back at her, rage coursing through my veins.
“I should’ve left you there,” she glares at me, and I gasp at the cruelness of her words. I have wondered if she had known what the future held if she would’ve left us there. It’s no secret I’m not her favorite person, but I have no idea why. I try to remind myself Sarah is broken. I always give her the benefit of the doubt when she’s mean, but this time her words are the cruelest they have ever been.
“Sarah!” Rhett yells as his body tenses and he steps towards her, as if daring her to breathe another word. I watch her over Rhett’s shoulder and notice Rhett’s line of sight move towards the kitchen. Sarah and I both follow his gaze to find Whit staring back at us. His lips are flattened and it takes me a moment to realize—he’s angry.
“Whit,” I whisper in a hoarse voice, my throat still sore from Sarah choking me.
“I forgot my wallet,” he says calmly, but his eyes are filled with anger as they move to Sarah.
“Whit I—” she starts, but Whit puts his hand up stopping her. She stands frozen, looking more delicate than ever, and I know, she knows, this is bad.
“Should you have left me there too?” he questions as he stares at her, his jaw tense. My inner self, the bitch she is, smiles at the cruel irony of the situation.
“Whit, the girls are just—”
“Don’t!” Whit interrupts Rhett, his eyes wide, daring Rhett to speak again. My heart is in my throat because I have never seen Whit so pissed off.
