The Secrets That We Keep

by Lucero, Isabel

When he walks out, I rush to the window and see if there is any hope for an escape. When I pull back the dark curtains, I frantically try to lift the window but it doesn’t budge. I keep trying with all my strength to get the fucking thing to move but then I notice a couple of nails in the bottom of the corners of the window. It’s been nailed shut. I notice that the window faces a brick wall. There are no people around, nobody to see me through the window. I really have no chance at escaping. The air rushes out of me and I feel defeated.

  My life has been so fucked up. I’ve been through so much and I was hoping I would get a chance to start over and make better decisions, but it doesn’t look like I’m going to get that chance. I’ve lost my parents and my sister. I’ve lost myself, the girl I used to be before I was ridden with guilt and betrayal. I’ve lost two men in my life that at one time I thought I could trust with my heart and whom I loved deeply. My life has been full of loss and anguish, and now it’s about to end before I’ve had a chance at anything better.

  I’m standing at the window with my forehead pressed against the glass, enjoying what little view I have of the world before it’s taken away from me. I think about my family and I briefly think that I will at least be reunited with them again once this is all over. But then I realize I probably won’t even make it to heaven. I don’t think I deserve to go there.

  I’m pulled out of my depressing thoughts when I hear what sounds like a scuffle down the hall. I realize that the man who was in here before has left my door open. I walk towards the door and peak out to see if I can get out while they are fighting. I find I’m at the end of the hallway, directly facing the living room. I don’t see anybody, but I hear them. There are definitely punches being thrown and words being exchanged. I creep down the hall to a door to my left with the hope that it will have a window that’s not nailed shut. When I open the door and step inside, I take in the navy blue bathroom decorations. Unfortunately, the only window in there is a small frosted window you open at the bottom and it pushes outwards a few inches. There is no way to get out of that window and yelling will only bring attention to my captors. My only choice is to hope they are still fighting and sneak back into the hall to find another room.

  Opening the door as slow as possible, I listen before poking my head out. Sure enough, they are still in the midst of their fight. I thought the guy said they were friends?

  I sneak out and continue down the hall, moving closer to the living room, but make my way to a door over to the right side of the hall, finding myself in another bedroom. Once I close the door behind me, I run straight to the window on the wall opposite me. When I pull the curtains back I jump when I hear what could only be a gunshot. I desperately begin pulling on the window trying to get it to open. My heart is hammering in my chest and my hands begin to shake. I hear footsteps thundering down the hall towards the room I’m supposed to be in. I hear his voice when he realizes I’m not in there.

  “What the fuck?” he yells.

  I hear him opening doors looking for me and know it’s only a matter of time. I won’t be able to get out of the window in time. My only options are hiding under the bed or in the closet, both typical hiding spot places that he will likely check. I have no choice and time is running out, I run and slide under the bed just as the door slams open.

  I can’t see his feet due to the bed skirt that is touching the floor so I can only lay here and wait. I try to hold my breath and keep from making any noises. I hear his footsteps making their way around the room and then I hear the closet door open and silently breathe a sigh of relief for not hiding in there.

  Everything is quiet. Too quiet. I doubt he has left because he has to know I’m stuck in the house somewhere. I hear the floor creak on the left side of the bed and I close my eyes, praying that he doesn’t look under here.

  The bed skirt is lifted up and when I open my eyes I’m met with a familiar face looking back at me.

  Chapter Twenty

  He grabs me by my arm and drags me out from underneath the bed.

  “I don’t have time for these games, Annabella and it would be better if you would just cooperate with me,” he says while pulling me up to my feet forcefully.

  “Cooperate with you? Are you fucking kidding me?” I scream at him. I try yanking my arm out of his hold but he’s too strong. “Get the fuck off of me, Lucas! I will not cooperate with you trying to kill me!”

  He stops short and pulls me in front of him and gazes down at me with fury in his eyes. “Don’t fuck with me right now, Annabella, I’m really not in the mood for your shit. You’ve caused enough trouble as it is.”

  He starts walking back down the hallway towards the living room. My eyes glace around the room nervously, looking for the man who was in the room with me earlier, threatening my life.

  “Where’s your friend?” I ask with malice in my tone.

  He looks at me briefly before responding. “It doesn’t matter. Now sit the fuck down.”

  He pushes me forward toward the couch and I fall down onto it and then situate myself to sit and face him. If looks could kill, he’d be lying at my feet and I would gladly stomp on his lifeless body on my way out of this Godforsaken place.

  “Annabella, this conversation we’re about to have is a long time coming, and I hope that you will be honest with me.”

  I scoff at him in absolute disbelief. “Honest? You want me to be honest with you? That’s rich,” I say with a humorless laugh and cross my arms across my chest and look away from him.

  “Fuck, Annabella! I’m not fucking around. You need to be honest with me!” he roars.

  I snap my head in his direction and throw daggers at him with my eyes. “I take it you’ll be honest too, then? Honest about how you’ve been out to fucking kill me all these fucking years! Honest about never giving a shit about me and honest about being a worthless piece of shit,” I snarl at him.

  Lucas takes a deep breath in and then comes and sits on the coffee table right in front of the couch that I’m sitting on and leans forward.

  “I’ll admit to all of those things,” he says in a quiet and calm voice. “If you admit to everything you’re guilty of.”

  He continues to stare at me with such intensity and I can no longer keep the eye contact. I lean back into the couch and turn my head to the side.

  “Not so easy, is it?” he asks.

  “Just do what you have to do, Lucas,” I say without turning my head to look at him.

  “Do what I have to do? You mean, kill you?”

  I turn to meet his gaze. “Yeah, that’s what all of this is about isn’t it? It was you following me like I thought. You were following me hoping to get me alone so you could kill me. I’m not sure why you asked me to lunch, you could have taken me then. So you tell me what it is you have to do.”

  “I have to kill you,” he says like it’s no big deal.

  I stare at him in shock as what he said just hit me. He’s actually being honest and it’s not exactly the honesty I would hope for.

  “Why?”

  Lucas sighs and runs a hand over his face before looking away. “Jesus, Annabella. You shot somebody! And that somebody has a father who very much wants you dead. I was told that if I don’t kill you, he’ll kill me.”

  I’m stunned silent. I know I need to respond but I can’t seem to find my voice. After what seems like forever, Lucas breaks the silence.

  “Do you have anything to say?” he asks.

  “I haven’t shot anybody! I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Lucas.”

  Lucas shoots to his feet and towers over me. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Annabella! I saw the fucking gun in your car!”

  “Wha…what are you talking about? What gun? When?” I ask, confused.

  “When else? Six years ago.”

  I gasp and bring my hand to my mouth and stare at him wide eyed.

  “Yeah, I thought so,” he says and then walks to the kitchen and brings back two beers. He opens one and hands it to
me and I take it without thinking about it. I don’t normally drink beer, but what the hell.

  “Lucas, I didn’t shoot anybody. I swear.”

  He gives me a look that tells me he doesn’t believe me. “Okay, I’m going to tell you a story, just listen okay?”

  I nod and take a sip of my beer and make a face because of the bitterness and quickly put it down.

  “Back when we were dating, when I wasn’t hanging out with you, I was hanging out with my brother and his friends who were all older than me. My brother had a friend by the name of Tony, he was into selling drugs and shit, but he always seemed cool to me. I later found out that his dad was some kind of fucking arms dealer and drug dealer on the streets of Chicago. He was a pretty big deal with all the criminals and was known to be a loose cannon, so nobody really fucked with him. Anyway, so Tony was hoping to take over for his dad one day so he was doing some small drug deals and shit like that. Tony was Dante’s only son, and Dante did any and everything for him. He spoiled him and made sure he had whatever he wanted.”

  Lucas took a long swig of his beer and seemed to be contemplating if he wanted to continue.

  “Keep going Lucas.”

  “Well, overtime I got to know his dad and he said he wanted me and my brother to accompany his son when he did these drug deals since people would be less likely to try to rob him or jump him for the drugs or money. So we agreed to do it because he offered to pay us. Our jobs were basically to keep Tony safe and we did…for a while.”

  He stops talking and looks at me like he’s waiting for me to say something, but I have no clue why he’s telling me this story, so I don’t know how to respond.

  “Lucas, what does this have to do with anything? I don’t know anybody named Tony or Dante and I certainly didn’t shoot anybody.”

  He continues with his story. “Tony started using the drugs he was supposed to be selling and he started being reckless and I started to distance myself from him. Every once in a while his dad would ask me and my brother to accompany him on a drug deal because he was worried about him and wanted us to try to keep him sober. Well, one night after he had sold whatever he needed to sell to somebody, Nick and I left him and went home. We figured he’d be able to make it home just fine without us since he wasn’t high or anything. Well I guess once we had left, he decided to go get high before making his way home.”

  He pauses and has a pained look on his face. I can tell he doesn’t want to finish this story but he’s the one who brought it up so I move my hand in a gesture that tells him to continue.

  “Annabella, look, I’m sorry and I want you to know that if I could go back and do things differently, I would. I never wanted this to happen.”

  An uneasy feeling makes its way through my body and I no longer want to hear what he has to say but at the same time, I know he’s going to continue.

  He sits down in front of me again and puts his hands on my knees before I push them off.

  “Tony got high that night and then got in his car and started driving back to his house. He must have dozed off or something, I’m not really sure, but he hit a car on the highway and caused it to veer off and roll over into the ditch on the side of the road. The people in the car didn’t survive.”

  My whole body is shaking and my heart drops into my stomach. “No, no, no,” I cry. “Lucas, no, you’re wrong. I don’t know any Tony! Are you saying he killed my family?”

  “Bell,” he says gently as he moves to sit next to me. “Tony is Antonio Rossi.”

  My head falls into my hands and I sob loudly and uncontrollably. I’m taken back to that early morning when I found out about my family.

  My parents had wanted us to all go out to dinner and a movie, but I had been invited to a party that I just had to go to. I whined and complained to them about how I had better things to do and they should just go without me. I remember my sister saying I was acting like a spoiled brat and that it wouldn’t kill me to spend time with my family. I yelled at her and told her she was just mad because she didn’t have friends who invited her out to do things.

  My parents relented and said I could go out and we’d plan to have another family night soon.

  “Alright, sugar,” my mom said. “You go have fun with your friends. I know your old parents aren’t as fun to hang out with,” she said with a laugh. “But please join us next time okay? Your sister will be moving away soon and we just want to have some nice family time.”

  I smiled and nodded and gave her a hug, happy to have gotten my way. I kissed her on her cheek. “Thanks, Mommy. You’re the best!”

  She laughed and said, “And don’t you forget it!” She swatted my butt as I walked towards my room to go get ready for the night. “Be safe out there tonight, sweetie,” she yelled out to me and I just gave a wave of my hand.

  They died that night on their way home from the movies while I was out partying with my friends. I should have been with them. I shouldn’t have been such a rotten bitch to them about spending quality family time together. I would do anything to have them back in my life. I would do anything to go to dinner and the movies with them. I never got the chance to apologize to them and tell them how much I loved them. They died thinking I’d rather be with my friends than with them and it killed me every time I thought about it. I should have been the one to get into an accident that night. Not them. I found out in the early morning hours of the following day about what happened, and my life was forever changed.

  My body is racked with sobs and the terrible memories of that night. I don’t know how long I sit there and cry, but Lucas stays next to me, rubbing my back.

  “Lucas,” I say, trying to get my breathing under control. “How did Antonio not go to jail? He killed my family. It was his fault.”

  “I know it was,” he says, reaching up to wipe the tears from my face. “His dad pulled some strings or something and they ended up losing the paperwork that proved he had drugs in his system. They were able to make it out to be involuntary vehicular manslaughter without gross negligence.”

  “He deserved to rot in prison! He took my whole life away!” I cry.

  “Which is why you shot him,” he says without question.

  I look into his blue eyes. “I wanted him to die. I wanted him to suffer. He didn’t deserve to be free and able to walk the streets and continue on with his life like nothing happened.”

  Lucas nods in understanding.

  “But I did not shoot him, Lucas. I wanted to, I thought about it, but I didn’t.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks. “I mean, I know you were going through a hard time back then and you were drunk almost every single day.”

  “I know I was fucking drunk! I was depressed. My heart had just been ripped out and stomped on. But I know I didn’t shoot anybody!” I yell.

  “I was told he was found after the trial was over. He had been shot in the head, among other injuries. I drove to your house that night. I needed to check on you even though we weren’t together anymore. I had to see if you were okay. When I pulled up into the driveway, I saw you passed out in your car. I went to go and take you out of the car to carry you inside of the house and I saw the gun on the passenger seat of the car.”

  “Yes, I had my dad’s gun with me. I told you I thought about killing him, but I just couldn’t. I never used it.”

  He looks at me confused. “So what happened that night?”

  I stare into Lucas’s eyes knowing that this is the time I will finally tell someone my secret. It’s time for it to come out. I can’t keep it hidden any longer. If I’m going to die anyway, might as well tell somebody the truth.

  “I was drunk that night, obviously. I was parked outside of a bar when I noticed a group of people outside being loud and they seemed to be celebrating something. I saw them hugging and giving each other pats on the back.”

  Lucas’s eyes widen briefly because he knows he was there that night.

  “I saw you there that night too. Everybody was celebra
ting the fact that he had just gotten away with murder. He was free to go get drunk and do whatever the fuck he wanted while I was stuck in my family’s house with all the pictures and memories of them, haunting me.

  “I pulled my dad’s gun out of the glove compartment and thought about using it right there and then. I just couldn’t do it. I decided it was time to go home since I was so fucked up. I drove down the road and turned down another street a little ways up. When I turned the corner, I heard a noise and my car jerked a little bit. I assumed I just hit a car that was parked there on the corner but as I kept driving I thought I saw something in the road behind me. I decided to reverse and check it out in case it was a dog or a piece of my car that had fallen off.

  “I got out of the car and walked towards the thing in the road that was moving. When I got close enough, I saw that it was Antonio. He was lying in the road on his stomach right by the car that was parked there. To me, it seemed like he had been lying in the road reaching for something he dropped that had went under the car. He had his arm stretched out toward it and I saw a phone lying behind the tire.” I pause and take a breath. “He was alive, Lucas! I had run over his bottom half. His legs were in an awkward position but he was alive!” I yell.

  “Okay, okay,” Lucas says calmly.

  “I just didn’t know what to do. I was pissed off at him still. I wanted him to suffer because he was making me suffer. So I walked away from him and went and got into my car and drove off. But I figured somebody would see him and call an ambulance and he would be fine. He was alive when I left. So somebody else must have shot him.”

  “Shit,” Lucas mumbles. “Dante knew you were across the street and he knew you’d be mad that his son didn’t go to jail. So a few days after his son was found, he told me it was my job to find you and make you pay since I was supposed to be the one to protect his son. He never said you had shot him, he just made it seem like you did. Dante didn’t know you and I had dated. When I had found out that Tony was responsible for your family’s accident, I just didn’t know what to do or what to say. I couldn’t tell you that I was friends with the guy who killed your family. I couldn’t tell you that I was supposed to be with him that whole night to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. I had to let you move on because I felt like it was my fault that it happened at all.”