by Nessa Morgan
“Here.” I throw the knife toward my bed without a second thought. It glides beneath the mattress, completely hidden and out of reach. “Please, just don't hurt her.” I angle my body until I’m covering her. If he’s going to shoot anyone, he’s going to shoot me. She’s spent the past ten years protecting me; I can do the same for her right now.
“That's a good girl,” he whispers, licking his lips. “Come to me, baby girl.”
I shake my head. I’m not leaving her unprotected.
“Josephine Lucas, get over here,” he demands loudly. I jump, startled from the intensity of his tone, before I stand and walk over to him, feeling the tears roll down my cheeks. “Now, was that so hard?” He coos, his fingers shifting through my hair. I shrink away from his touch. He notices and grips the back of my head, tugging me closer to him. He points the gun at Hilary.
“NO!” I scream, dodging in front of the gun fully confident he won’t shoot me. He’s traveled so far just to get to me, he wouldn’t hurt me—I think. “You said you wouldn't hurt her.”
“I lied.”
I grab his arm, shoving at it with all my might, making him shoot the ceiling. The sound louder than I ever believed, I shriek and bounce back, trying to put distance between me and the gun. Plaster falls around us, showering us like snow.
“Joey!” Zephyr yells as he runs into my room. He stops when he sees the gun in Benjamin’s hand. My heart drops when it turns to him. “What’s going on?” he asks as he stares at the gun. My eyes lock on it, ready to dive before it.
Benjamin looks shocked to see him. “Who is this?” He growls, turning to me.
“I’m Zephyr,” Zephyr tells him. “Her boyfriend.”
I watch the look fall from Benjamin’s face. His head slowly turns away before his eyes are on me and I can see the hate within them. He doesn’t like the answer and he’s ready to pull the trigger. “You have a boyfriend?” he seethes.
I don’t answer.
“Answer me, Josephine.”
“I’m seventeen, why wouldn’t I have a boyfriend,” I reply.
Benjamin barks out a laugh. “Because I don’t allow you to date, damn it.” His attention snaps back to Zephyr.
“You can’t hurt him,” I plead. “You can’t, you can’t, you can’t,” I repeat, crying, turning into the scared little girl I know he remembers.
“Oh, shut your fucking bitching,” Benjamin says angrily, rolling his eyes. “You haven’t fucking changed, have you.” I recoil with his hateful words, wishing I could run and hide in the back of the closet like I used to do.
“Don’t talk to her like that!” Zephyr yells, defending me. He should shut up—this could get him killed.
“Oh, I see you like to talk back.” Benjamin uses his free hand to grab my arm, tugging me next to him. The pain wrenches through me, something popping in my arm. “If you don’t want me to hurt him, baby girl, you should tell him goodbye. You’re never seeing him again, got it?”
Zephyr shakes his head, his anger pushing through. It’s only moments before he explodes. “You’re not going anywhere with her,” He says. He reaches for me but the Benjamin lifts the gun higher, pointing it at his head. I scream loudly, objecting. Zephyr holds up his hands, his face turning to stone.
“Am I not?” Benjamin asks. “She’s my daughter.”
“You tried to kill her,” Zephyr replies.
“I wouldn’t have done that had she not called the cops.”
“I’m not even your daughter,” I blurt. Benjamin turns to me, staring at me with eyes of pure hatred. He either wasn’t expecting that or didn’t know. I’m betting on the latter. I smile, feeling as if I have the upper hand. I tug my arm free. “You had to have known that, Benjamin. You’re not that stupid, but I could be wrong”—yeah, Joey, that’s right, insult the man holding the gun—“You should have known that Mom had an affair. Why? Because she didn’t love you. Why would she, you sick, perverted fuck. She didn’t love you. How could anyone ever love you? You’re nothing but a—”
A hard, stinging slap to my cheek shuts me up before I can finish my statement. I step back, stumbling from the hit.
“Shut the fuck up, you little slut.”
Whimpering, my hand finds my cheek, rubbing slightly to alleviate the pain of his hit. He only did this once to me, I can only imagine what he did to my mother in all their years of marriage.
I look to Zephyr, trying to catch his attention, but his eyes are stuck on the gun, watching every little tremble of Benjamin’s hand. He’s trying to think of a way to get the gun. He’s trying to think of a way to save us both.
Benjamin’s finger, I can tell, isn’t on the trigger. If I try, I might be able to distract him somehow. The only thing I know to do is—
Zephyr pounces, jumping on Benjamin and wrestling for the gun. They slam hard into my dresser, dropping onto the floor in a heap. I watch the television shuffle forward, sliding closer with every hit they make into the drawers. It’s ready to fall onto Zephyr’s back. That can’t happen. I quickly shove it back, hoping it remains on the dresser.
Zephyr quickly punches Benjamin in the jaw, a loud grunt sounding through the air. He tugs on the gun once, twice, three times before Benjamin shoves him away, slamming him into the nearby wall.
I search my room for the heaviest thing I can lift that I can use as a weapon. The only thing I can see is the television set. But even better is the dresser it’s sitting on—it’s made of oak. The dresser Benjamin is lying in front of. I run toward it and tip it forward, shoving Zephyr out of the way, and watch it fall on top of Benjamin.
The gun goes off, the bullet punching through the wall.
“Zephyr,” I call, running to where he landed near my closet. He’s groaning from the kick to the stomach, his hands clutch his gut. I place my hands on his. I turn toward my aunt, she’s still lying in the center of the room, out cold.
“Isn’t that sweet,” Benjamin growls as he shifts the dresser from his legs. He lifts himself from the floor and dusts himself off, moaning angrily with every movement. “I’ll forget what you did this time, Josie.” Benjamin grabs me by neck and launches me toward the wall farthest from Zephyr. I hit it—and Zephyr’s painting—as I fall to the floor. “Next time, baby girl, I won’t be so nice about it. I can promise you that.”
“Joey,” Zephyr calls, pain lacing his voice. There isn’t much he can do, not with the amount of pain he’s enduring.
“Stand up,” Benjamin tells me, pointing the gun in my direction.
I do as he says, rubbing my bare shoulder. The strap to my dress is dangling in front of me; it ripped during the scuffle.
“You, too,” he demands of Zephyr, the gun now pointing to him.
I watch him struggle to stand. I want to help him—he’s in pain. I move to help him but the sight of Benjamin’s gun stops me.
“Baby girl”—the words make my blood boil—“answer a question for me,” Benjamin demands. “Do you love this boy?” he asks, seething. The man is turning red with anger—a deep, crimson red.
I don't answer.
“ANSWER ME, JOSEPHINE!”
“Yes!” I scream. “Yes, I love him,” I cry out desperately. “He's my best friend and I love him more than I can describe in words. He’s my life, my light, my world, and you’re not taking him away from me.” My body is shaking—everything within me hurts as I watch the gun rise higher.
“Oh, I’m not?” Benjamin asks.
“What type of man are you to even debate that?” I question. “You couldn’t have always been like this. Something must have changed you into this. Just please,” I beg. “Please don’t do any of this. You can leave like nothing ever happened here.”
Benjamin looks at me, staring through me. His eyes are vacant and hollow. He looks to be pondering my words, taking a minute to think them through. He’s deciding something. It can’t be good.
Turning to my boyfriend, I see the terror in his eyes, the worry and concern covering his face. It mat
ches my own. “I'm so sorry, Zephyr,” I whisper, clutching my arms to my body.
“Don't speak to him,” Benjamin demands, dragging his hand through his hair.
I nod, prepared to do anything he asks if only it means Zephyr leaves alive.
He raises the gun and the booms before I can clearly think. For a brief moment, I look to Zephyr, watching the shock cover his face. Our eyes connect in these brief moments before the bullet hits. When they do, his face washes over in acceptance.
Then he’s down.
“ZEPHYR!” I scream, feeling as if my heart’s just been ripped from my body. I rush to him. I need to be with him right now. I need him to know that I’m still here. He needs me. I fall next to him—his body—and grab his hand. I’m screaming but I don’t hear any sound. Whatever is in me is hollow and broken, ruined, just like the boy on the floor.
The blood won’t stop. I place my hands over the wound, not entirely sure of what to do, and press—hoping to stop it, hoping to save him. I can’t stop crying, I can’t force myself to be strong when he needs my strength and I hate myself for it.
He can’t die, he can’t be dead—he can’t leave me, not now. Not ever.
I love him.
I fucking love him, damn it. He can’t die!
Zephyr’s still breathing—that’s a good sign. It means life. But his breathing is shallow. “Please,” I beg quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.” I repeat and repeat, hoping it’s heard somewhere above. He’s done so much, I think. You can’t take him now. He has so much more life to live.
Even if it’s a life without me, Zephyr has so much promise—it can’t be taken away from him because of me.
Before I can check for a pulse, Benjamin lifts me up from the floor, his arm tightly around my waist. He carries me down the stairs as I scream and fight him to be with Zephyr. Zephyr needs me, he needs me, he needs me—he fucking needs me right now—and this man is preventing it. I can save him. I can save Zephyr like he’s saved me through all these years.
But I know—I know now as I am forcefully carried from the house and thrown into the back of a car—that I will never see him again.
epilogue
Everything I hoped for in my life—I lost it in one decision. One foolish decision made of greed and want. I’d been running my entire life: running from friends, from family, from feelings I couldn’t explain, from things that made me uncomfortable—but needed. I’d run so fast and so far that I’d finally come full circle, starting right back at the beginning, right where I started. When I thought I’d defeated my demons, when I thought I could finally be happy and start anew, that’s when everything changed—but I didn’t want to run anymore.
I was home.
I was somewhere I belonged—finally, and I refused to let anyone tear me away from the place I loved the most. The place that held my heart—home is where the heart is.
I sought safety in the Boy Next Door. I sought friendship, love, and kindness. He returned everything and so much more, unremarkably making me believe in something greater than my past. I couldn’t ask for anything or anyone better.
The only boy I could ever love was lying on that floor and I didn’t know if he were alive or dead. I knew I’d never know.
Someone told me to believe in miracles—this was the moment to pray for one, and hope that Zephyr will be okay. I can only hold so much fight within me and I’ll need it. But my one wish is that Zephyr lives.
One of us needs to.
I’ll see her again. There is nothing I feel more in my heart than this—I will see Joey again.
Somehow, Joey will come back home and she can have that happy ending she’s always wanted, the happy ending she deserves.
Joey—I think as I stare into her eyes, the last thing I see before I fall into this dark pit of pain. She stares at me, tears rolling down her cheeks, a soundless scream leaving her lips. This is the Girl Next Door, the one with the secrets I deciphered—I love you so much.
END OF BOOK two
