Perfect Chaos

by Nashoda Rose

  She smiled and it was the first time in over ten hours I felt like I could breathe. She grabbed my sleeve before I walked away.

  “Deck. I need to tell you …” She stopped, straightened her shoulders and looked around as if searching for someone. Then her eyes dropped to the floor and she looked … scared. Georgie rarely looked scared, and it reminded me of the moment I told her about Connor. “Please, don’t put me in rehab.”

  Jesus. Then she said shit like that.

  I paused. Blue streaks hung down the side of her face, no makeup, standing against the wall in the light blue hospital gown. Innocent. She was innocent and yet, I knew Georgie. She was a lot more than that. She was stubborn and determined, had an attitude, which was part of her, but for some reason, it was more exaggerated than I thought suited her.

  But her looking at me, uncertain, exposed and yet still with confidence … this was the Georgie I knew.

  This was who I’d fight to bring back. “I won’t.” I nodded to the right where the doc stood watching me. “Don’t let that guy touch you.” She smiled at that and I tucked her hair away from her face. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Get some rest, baby.”

  The nurse put her hand on Georgie’s arm and guided her back to her room.

  I MOANED, MY head rolling side to side as I repeated over and over in my head the word—No. A spider crawled over my skin, but it wasn’t a spider—it was blood droplets. I couldn’t move to push it away as the fear felt as if an oil drum sat on my chest. Oil. The rag. It was choking me.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I couldn’t spit it out. The material scratching at the back of my throat making me gag.

  My stomach rolled and swirled as the breeze swept across my face—his breath—Scotch. It was him. I had to run¸ but it was foggy. The shed was a long, narrow hallway now and I ran and ran but never moved.

  No.

  Stop. No more.

  The words were in my head and I tried to form them, but the sounds were trapped in my throat. Moans. Strangled moans. Were they from me?

  I fell to my knees and sobbed.

  The shadow hovered over me. The glint of the knife.

  I froze. Terror grabbed hold as I waited for the pain. The fear. The taste of my blood in the air.

  I scraped my knees when he knocked me down then dragged me into the maintenance shed with the school’s lawnmower and gardening tools. The door clanged shut, making some of the metal tools hanging on the wall hit one another at the vibration.

  I completely lost it.

  Struggling against his hold like a shark caught in a net above water, I flailed, hitting him in the teeth with my fist. I even managed to escape and get a few feet from the door before he dove on me and we landed hard on the plank floor, the wind knocked out of me. “I didn’t expect such a fighter.”

  He flipped me over and held my hands down above my head, but I still tried to get away. Desperate. Hoping someone would hear my screams, but the shed was far enough away from the main school that few people would ever walk by it.

  I didn’t know who he was except that he was a senior. He had sandy-blond hair and a big, crooked nose as if he’d had it broken a few times. Wide features contained a stern, hard look in his eyes as if whatever cries I made would do nothing to change that unsympathetic gaze.

  He raised my dress above my thigh and I freaked, screaming and kicking and crying. He pressed his hand over my mouth and then used his weight on top of me to keep me from squirming away. The cold edge of the blade pricked my throat and I shrunk away tilting my head to the side, kicking my feet but unable to move anything else.

  “Stay still, damn it. I don’t want to hurt you—not much, anyway.” He ran the blade down my skin until it rested in the hollow of my throat. “Not allowed to. I could get into trouble.” I whimpered. He pressed the tip of the knife into my flesh and I tried to move away. He scowled and I stopped. “You know what happens if you don’t behave?”

  No, I didn’t. I had no idea what this guy wanted from me, but I suspected and it made my blood run cold.

  He laughed then clucked his tongue as he sat up, straddling me. I went to move and he sliced the knife across my arm. I screamed and he shut me up with a rag from the ground beside the lawnmower.

  He slowly undid the buckle on his belt, and I started crying and sobbing beneath the oil soaked rag. He pulled the belt from the loops of his jeans.

  I swallowed the bile, knowing if I threw up I’d choke.

  “Maybe next time you won’t try to run.” He got off me, yanked me up so hard my neck cracked, and then I was on my knees with my back to him. He pulled my dress over my head and threw it aside, then pulled my arms behind my back and wrapped the belt around my wrists so tightly I lost feeling in my fingers within seconds.

  “That’s a good girl. Relax and it won’t hurt.”

  He ran his hand down my back, gentle and soft like he was caressing my skin. “A blank canvas. I watched you. So perfect and sweet, quiet. And then … ” He sighed. “And then the perfect opportunity came, and I was given the chance to fix you.” His hand on my back became rough.

  Then I felt the sharp prick of the knife on my spine. I arched and tried to move away, but he shoved me hard in the back with the heel of his hand and I fell forward so my cheek was pressed into the wood floor.

  “Now, don’t move, princess.”

  Then the cutting began.

  I sobbed quietly the entire time. It was as if he was drawing on me with his knife. He hummed as he did it, a joyful tune he repeated over and over again. It didn’t feel deep, as if he wanted to mark me, but not scar me.

  Suddenly, it all changed and Deck was there. So was Connor. They were fighting him, trying to get to me. I was screaming and crying, but I couldn’t get free.

  I couldn’t get free.

  I couldn’t get away.

  “Deck!” I flailed, kicked and sobbed.

  “Hold her.”

  Hands held my wrists. No. No, it was the belt. The belt was being tied around my wrists.

  I couldn’t distinguish what was real. “Let me go. Let me go!” I yelled as loud as I could.

  Everything meshed together. The voices. Images.

  “Damn it, sedate her.”

  I screamed again and again as the images roared through my head.

  He was running after Deck, knife in his hand, his eyes laughing. Deck was just standing there looking at me. He was shaking his head—disappointed. He was disappointed with me.

  Why wasn’t he looking at the boy who was going to kill him?

  “Deck. Deck.”

  Heaviness gripped me and I was running in slow motion toward them. I wasn’t going to get there in time. No, don’t take him from me, too. “Please. No.”

  The knife came toward Deck’s chest in slow motion. I sobbed hysterically, but Deck just stood there watching as the knife kept coming.

  “Nooo.” I couldn’t lose him.

  “Sir. Sir. You can’t go in there—”

  “Out of my way before I throw you out of my way.”

  Deck?

  I moaned.

  What was happening? I couldn’t see him anymore. It was dark and … I struggled again. Tossing and turning trying to find him.

  “Shh. Calm down.” I didn’t recognize the voice. I heard the shuffling of feet. Who was here? “What the hell is going on out there?”

  “You need to move. Now.”

  My eyes flew open when I heard his voice. Deck. He was alive. Robbie didn’t kill him. I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t. I pulled upward again, my brain foggy, limbs weak and … I looked down and saw the straps around my wrists.

  I jerked violently on them as the nightmare of the belt became real.

  “Just relax. We’ll let you go once you settle down.”

  I choked on the sob screeching from my throat as the doctor’s words hit me. “No,” I cried and yanked on the straps, but everything was so heavy and slow. I couldn’t focus as the room blurred and the m
an standing beside the bed became what my mind was fighting to make him.

  I heard something hard hit a wall outside the door and then the crash of what sounded like a metal tray with dishes hitting the floor.

  A woman’s voice, “Oh, my God. Please. Don’t shoot me.”

  “Then move out of my fuckin’ way.” The door burst open and the glare of the hallway lights blinded me for a few seconds. All I saw was a large shadow standing in the doorway.

  I let the sobs take hold and tears streamed down my face.

  His long strides reached me in seconds and I kept my eyes on him, afraid if I closed them, he’d disappear.

  “Sir, she was violent and we—”

  “What the fuck did you give her?” Deck put his hand on my arm, and with one pull, he ripped off the tape holding the catheter and tossed it aside. He leaned over and I heard the sleek sound of the knife pulled from its leather case.

  “It was a mild sedative, but you can’t—”

  He interrupted the nurse by saying nothing, merely giving her a hard glare. There was no fear with Deck. He didn’t think about the consequences; instead, he reacted to his instinct and didn’t back down from doing what he thought was best. It was one of the things I loved about him.

  “Deck,” I cried.

  “Yeah, baby.” He cut the straps on my wrists with one quick movement.

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say, because it was all I had.

  Deck never said a word as he lifted me into his arms. My head fell against his shoulder, too weak to hold upright as the sedation took effect. Arms tight around me, a rag doll hanging limp in his hard, familiar arms.

  I noticed he never looked at me.

  He strode from the room, but I could hear running footsteps coming toward us.

  “Mr. Ryan.” Deck’s arms tightened, but his stride never faltered as the doctor’s voice cut through the air following us.

  “Mr. Ryan, she can’t leave. It’s the middle of the night. We haven’t discharged her—”

  “Georgie, can you sit?” I sighed as a wave of comfort settled over me at the familiar sound of his voice.

  I nodded.

  He set me in one of the orange plastic chairs against the wall, his hands lingering on my hips as if making sure I was steady. Then he let me go and faced the doctor.

  I saw the cold, piercing stare as he slowly pulled his gun from the holster. I could hear the click of the hammer and then the doc’s fumbling words as he put his hands up and stepped back. I also heard several gasps from the nurses.

  “Whoa. You can’t do that.”

  “I can do whatever the hell I want. I’m the one with the gun.”

  “The police have been called …” I heard the shakiness in his voice and his eyes never left the barrel of the gun.

  Deck took out his phone, pressed a few numbers and put it to his ear while he kept his gun on the doctor. “Call our guy. Tell him the incident at the hospital is me taking my girl home.” He paused. “Tell him I’m her emergency contact and she wants to leave. He can call me and verify if he needs to.” He shoved the phone back in his pocket, taking two steps to reach the doctor who still had his hands up with his back to the wall. Deck slid his gun back in his holster then got right in his face.

  I couldn’t see Deck’s face, but just the way he held himself was intimidating. The doc’s eyes were like dinner plates and his skin was solid white.

  “If she tells me anything else happened here that I don’t like, I’m coming back for you.”

  Deck walked to me, picked me up, cradled me in his arms then strode down the hall to the elevator and pressed the button.

  I SAW TYLER—well, a blurred form of Tyler—waiting by the car, arms crossed, leaning back against it, his face pensive. “Jesus. What the fuck?” Tyler opened the car door and Deck gently lowered me onto the leather front seat. “Drugged?”

  “Sedated,” Deck said.

  “What the fuck? Why?”

  “Tyler, leave it.” It was an abrupt order, and I could tell from his lowered brows and pursed lips he was barely holding control. By Tyler’s nod and his glance at me, he got that.

  He grabbed the seat belt and began to pull it across my lap. I shook my head. “No.”

  Deck’s eyes closed for a brief moment then he let the seatbelt go, straightened and shut the door. He turned and spoke to Tyler, although I couldn’t hear him. Tyler nodded, looked at me then hopped in the back seat, the phone to his ear.

  I watched Deck’s tall, lean form walk around the front of the car. Every muscle flexed, fury pulsating off him. He was like a time bomb, quiet and patient, but the tick, tick, and tick was a reminder that eventually there would be an explosion.

  The car door slammed and he started the engine. Stray pebbles scattered beneath the tires as he drove. The radio was off. Tyler was silent and even the subtle sound of breathing seemed offensive to the tension in the car. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared out the side window at the whoosh of cars speeding by in the opposite direction.

  I felt like a guppy floundering in a sea of sharks, always trying to escape from something. I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. The path I’d drawn for myself always seemed so clear, but suddenly … suddenly, it was all fucked up.

  “What happened?”

  I jerked at the sound of Deck’s harsh voice breaking the silence and then a rush of comfort settled over me. He always had that effect, as if I was cocooned in his protective warmth. In the beginning when he came back, I tried to escape it, fighting him, but I was only fighting myself. Deck was part of me whether it was right or wrong, good or bad. He lived in me, and I’d do anything to keep that part of me alive.

  His voice cut through my thoughts. “What happened?”

  “I … I had a bad dream.”

  “It was more than that.” A statement.

  I nodded. It was my past coming back to find me. After the purging, the memories flooded me, but normally, I was home alone for a few days where no one could see me as my mind and body healed.

  “The cuts. The drinking. The ‘bad dream’. I want it all.”

  My eyes shot to his.

  “You have one day to get your story straight.” He briefly glanced at me. “And Georgie, the story will be the truth.” He was still pulsating with fury, lips tight, brows drawn over his dark eyes, but he was no longer clenching his jaw. He glanced in the rear view mirror. “Tyler?”

  “All good, Boss.”

  I looked over my shoulder at Tyler and he was typing on his phone. He looked up at me as if he sensed eyes on him and there wasn’t the usual wink or grin, it was his mouth drawn downwards. He went back to typing and I faced forward.

  “The police—” I started.

  “Are dealt with.”

  I nodded. Deck knew people, but breaking me out of a hospital at gunpoint …

  “Where are we going?” Please don’t say rehab. Please don’t say rehab.

  “My place.”

  I took a deep breath then leaned my head against the window. I didn’t want to close my eyes again. I was scared the nightmare would come back, but the drugs weren’t giving me a choice. “Don’t let me fall asleep,” I whispered.

  “It’s safe to sleep, Georgie. You’re always safe with me.”

  I nodded. Yeah, I was. Deck made sure of it; he always did. “I was scared.” I think it was the first time I ever admitted that.

  Deck would naturally think I was talking about the hospital, but I wasn’t. I was talking about my past. The days I walked home from school looking over my shoulder, afraid he’d catch me. My heart slamming into my chest, so scared I’d vomit. I never knew when he’d take me to the shed. It could be weeks or days before he’d grab me.

  My parents became concerned because I’d lost weight, but they assumed it had to do with Connor’s death. I thought of telling them what was happening. So many times, I’d opened my mouth to blurt it out then I’d slam it shut, terrified of losing someone els
e in my life. Robbie was sick. He’d do it. He’d kill my parents if I told anyone.

  “I know.” Deck looked at me as his eyes said everything. There was no shield blocking that look. It was him telling me he’d always be there. Him telling me he cared. Then the shield slammed down again and he looked away.

  This man … I would never have him, but I also knew I’d never deserve him. Deck was everything I wasn’t and more.

  Deck was selfless.

  And I knew he protected me because Connor asked him to, but Connor had been dead a long time. Deck put up with my shit, and it was a lot of shit. I knew soon it would blow up and I wouldn’t be able to stop it. I’d tried for most of my life to protect Deck from my lies. It wasn’t for my sake—it was for his. If anything happened to him...

  The car went dark as we pulled into the underground parking lot and lurched to a halt. Deck got out, walked around and opened my door. He lifted me in his arms and I curled into him. I inhaled and my body sagged with relief as his scent swirled into my lungs. There was no question, drugged or not, my every molecule knew Deck. I’d recognize him buried beneath the ground.

  “Later, Georgie girl.” Tyler headed to the driver’s door. Without waiting for a response, he jumped in the driver’s seat and peeled away.

  I looked up at Deck. Our eyes locked and my lips parted about to say something, I just didn’t know what.

  I’D NEVER FELT so fucked up in my life. I was on the edge of losing it. Who was I kidding; I’d already lost it, pulling a fuckin’ gun on a nurse and then a doctor. Shit, I could imagine what the Chief of Police had screamed in Tyler’s ear. The police may overlook my indiscretions, but I wasn’t immune.

  What the fuck was going on with her? An inferno of rage blazed inside me and yeah, it was directed at her. I was so pissed off I was afraid to speak.

  Unable to sleep, I’d come back to the hospital to sit with her. That was until they tried to stop me from seeing her and then the straps holding her down like some fuckin’ animal.