by W Winters
“Jay,” she says softly, reverently almost and it shocks me. My brow pinches as I step closer to her, rounding the bed, but careful not to touch it. I don’t even brush my knees against it. I don’t want to give her any indication at all that I’ll touch her.
“Jay went out,” I tell her and try to breathe, I try to explain what’s going on. “He wants to help you, and I’m here to make sure you’re safe.”
The small woman looks up and flinches. Her eyes go wide before she backs away slowly. So slowly it looks like the sheet barely moves as it falls down her body. She sucks in a breath and visibly swallows before I add, “I’m John.”
“John?” she asks in a whisper before her eyes dart to the door and then back to me.
She’s disoriented. The drugs are still coursing through her system, but the fear has finally set in.
“It’s okay, I won’t let Jay hurt you,” I tell her, again raising my hands palms outward as though she's a wounded animal.
Her eyes fall to the sheet and then look back to me before she sits up to look at me, her gaze searching my face for something. She finally asks, “Does Jay want to hurt me?” Her eyes flicker to the door again and then back to my eyes.
The dim light in the room reflects in her eyes. Swirls of forest greens and flecks of gold. She has the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen, but they're riddled with questions and fear.
“No,” I answer her immediately. “He wants to help you.”
She nods once and then the fear seems to dim although she unconsciously picks at the blanket on the bed.
“Are you alright?” I ask her, feeling deep down in the pit of my stomach that there’s more between her and Jay than I realize. She’s more afraid of me than him. I can feel it. “I promise, I have no intention of hurting you,” I tell her and slow my movements to make it obvious I’m going to sit on the edge of the bed. I can’t have her being afraid of me.
“I’m not well, no,” she says softly, shaking her head just slightly but her eyes stay on mine, brimming with curiosity now. “Are you alright?” she asks me.
It throws me off. “No,” I say after a moment. “This isn’t alright with me,” I add with my throat tight. “I didn’t know,” I explain, and I tell her more as a plea for forgiveness. I swallow hard and glance at the door. I should take her away. I can leave with her right now.
All the evidence will point to me though and if she presses charges, I’m fucked. But what other choice do I have?
“If you want to leave-” I start to say, but she cuts me off.
“What didn’t you know?” she asks me, licking her lips and tilting her head to the right. Her eyes are wide with curiosity more than anything else.
“I didn’t know he’d taken you,” I admit to her in a low voice that’s barely audible. She nods her head once.
“So you’d let me leave?” she asks in a small voice. Her eyes travel to the door as if watching herself simply walk away, but when her gaze stops, the lights turn on and Jay stands in the doorway. My eyes adjust to the light slowly, but they only focus on her and her reaction to seeing Jay. She hesitates a moment, her grip on the blanket tightening as she takes him in.
“Jay?” She whispers his name as if it’s a question. As if it can’t really be him.
My gaze turns to Jay, and I watch as his lips twitch up into a smile and his expression softens. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead he licks his lips and reaches behind him to close the door. A foreboding click echoes off the walls as he walks closer to her.
“How’s your head?” he asks her.
“Jay, are you alright?” she asks and then crawls to the edge of the bed slowly, moving away from me and closer to him. Her eyes brim with tears, and she bites down on her bottom lip to keep them from spilling over.
He walks slowly toward her, and the sound of his boots smacking softly on the wooden floor is the only thing I can hear other than my racing heart.
He cups her chin in his hand and brushes his thumb along her lips, and she seems to lean into him. She reaches up and wraps her small hands around his wrist. “I know it’s scary, but I thought you’d understand.”
“You can’t do this, Jay,” she pleads with him as a tear slips down her cheek. The way she’s talking to him, the way she pleads with him and ignores me completely shifts something deep inside of me. She cares for him. It’s so fucking obvious.
“It’s not just for me, little bird,” Jay says in a pained voice. “I would have left you alone forever, I promise you I would have.”
She shakes her head, rising on her knees to interrupt him. As the bed creaks with her shifting weight, he presses a finger to her lips, hushing her. “You wanted to hurt yourself,” he tells her and her strength vanishes. She moves her cheek from his hand and seems to back away from him.
“Jay, you need help,” she whimpers.
“Ah,” Jay says. “And so do you, my little bird.”
Chapter 7
Robin
I’m practically shaking. My legs feel wobbly and my head is pounding, but I’ve never felt so aware.
It’s him. It’s really him. After all this time, he’s finally come back to me. But this is a nightmare even I never dared to have. An outcome I couldn’t have predicted.
“You’re broken, Robin,” Jay says and his voice breaks my thoughts. I stare at him, his eyes never looking so cold and his voice never feeling so devoid of emotion before. But he’s right here in front of me. His jawline sharper, his shoulders broader and his body filled out.
He’s no longer a scared little boy trying to protect me. He’s become a man in every way.
“Why did you do it?” he asks me, and my blood turns to ice. I flinch as the memory comes back full force. The cold wind whipping across my face, the branches lashing out and striking me as I ran through the forest. I ran because I had no choice. Liar! a voice hisses in the back of my head. I didn’t have to leave him behind. I’m a coward. I ran because I was scared.
“Why did you try to kill yourself?” Jay asks me and my eyes lift to his, my heart still hammering in my chest.
My throat feels dry and my voice comes out hoarse, but I’m grateful I misunderstood. I’m grateful he doesn’t bring it up. I wish I could go back; I wish I could pretend I never left him. “I’m not well, but I’m-” I try to explain, but he cuts me off.
“Broken!” Jay yells at me, and for the first time real fear flows through me.
“I’m sorry I left you,” I say. The words spill from me unbidden and I cover my mouth, hating that I’ve acknowledged it. I look up to him, watching for his reaction. But I get nothing, not a word or any recognition. “Please, don’t hate me,” I whimper. I feel so small beneath him.
Maybe this is what I’ve truly wanted. For him to punish me. For him to forgive me.
His large hand pats the back of my head, a comforting touch that brings me back to the first night I met him. When I lay on the ground crying until he finally reached out to comfort me.
“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “This isn’t about that. It has nothing to do with how we left. It’s only about who we’ve become since then.”
“Why are you doing this?” I ask him. “You know it doesn’t have to be like this,” I say and my eyes search his, pleading and begging. “You didn’t have to do this.” My voice comes out as a hollow whisper.
“I did though,” he tells me. “You have no idea what it’s like. For me to know and be aware, and he… he doesn’t. He doesn’t see it.”
I shake my head, grabbing onto the edge of the bed and the comforter as I insist, “That’s not how this works, Jay!” I try desperately to get through to him. For him to understand. “I can’t help you like this.”
He breathes in heavy, and his eyes pierce into me for a long moment, like he’s considering what I’m telling him. But eventually he nods his head. “Yes, you can. And I can help you,” he says.
The hot tears flow freely now. “Jay, please,” I beg him. My head star
ts to spin, and I feel faint. This can’t be happening.
“You’re going to stay here until we can help each other. Until you forgive me, and I forgive you.”
It’s like a spike to the heart to hear him talk of forgiveness. “I never blamed you,” I say, telling him the truth. I never once blamed Jay for any of the fucked up shit that happened to us. “I hated myself for leaving you. And now-” my voice cracks realizing what he’s become and how fucked up this all is. I should never have left him.
“You need help,” I plead with him again, my voice wretched. I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand as I remember John. How he looked at me as if he’d never seen me before in his life.
“I know,” he replies and his voice is raw and his eyes go glassy, but his expression is hard. “You can help me, and I can help you.” He tilts his head, and it pains my heart.
My heart tries to leap up my throat. I feel sick as my stomach churns.
“This is your new home for a little while,” he says. My heart squeezes in my chest, and I reach up to cling to Jay’s shirt.
“Jay, no!” I cry out as he grips my hands in his and keeps me from holding onto him. I try to move toward him, to beg him to let me go. My nails scrape along his wrists. “Jay!” My pleas are useless.
“You don’t have to do this,” I urge as he backs away and I nearly fall off the bed. My eyes search frantically for the door and the moment they do; Jay squeezes my hands tighter. He squeezes hard enough so there’s pain, but for only a moment and my eyes shoot to his.
My heart thuds in my chest, and the blood drains from my face. “Don’t do this,” I whisper, but my words fall on deaf ears. Jay turns his back on me and I scramble off the bed, but he’s through the door and slamming it shut just a moment before I can reach him.
“No!” I scream at him, pounding my fists against the door. Bang! Bang! “Don’t leave me in here!” I cry out for Jay as tears stream down my face and my voice goes raw. “Jay!”
Bang! Bang! I don’t stop screaming; I don’t stop pounding.
For so long I’ve dreamed of him coming back for me. I prayed he’d be safe.
If only I’d known.
I turn my back to the door, leaning against it as I slowly slide to the floor. My shoulders hunch and I feel useless, hopeless… worst of all, like a child again.
Yes, that’s exactly how I feel. Like I’m back in the past all those years ago. But back then, Jay was my shoulder to cry on. My protector. My savior.
Now, I’m truly alone.
John. I hear him say his name in the depths of my memory, I see the look in his eyes and my own pop open.
He’ll come back at some point. And hopefully sooner, rather than later.
John will come back, and I can use him. Tears prick my eyes, and my throat closes with emotion. I can’t do that to him. I’m consumed by guilt. I can’t stop having flashbacks of me running away.
But I have to try. Jay’s not well, and I have to get him help. He’s not okay, and I can’t just stay here waiting around. Not for Jay, and not for John. I need to get the fuck out of here.
Chapter 8
Robin
I open my eyes slowly; the light is still harsh, and my head’s groggy. The chill is starting to get to me, and I’ve only just now realized I’m still in my thin silk nightgown.
That fucking bastard. I clench my hands into fists and grind my teeth as I try to comprehend what’s happened.
He’s alive. Jay is alive.
That little bit of knowledge in and of itself is earth shattering to me. My head falls back against the door and my throat feels tight. My heart aches for him.
I struggle to breathe as I push up from the floor and lean against the door to stand. My eyes slowly focus on the room he’s put me in, and it feels like a spike to my chest. A sob tries to escape, but I push it down, swallowing it and refusing to cry.
It looks the same as before… like a deliberate attempt to bring me back.
I shake my head. No, this isn’t the same. “It can’t be.” The words creep through my lips as my shoulders quiver.
Cinder block walls yes, but the wall with the door is drywall. I blink the tears back, my eyes going glassy as I turn to face it and then the bed. It only has a simple frame with a mattress covered by a white fitted sheet and a thin white sheet on top. Only one pillow is on the bed, also white and still rumpled from where I was lying.
There was never a bed before. Was there? I don’t remember one.
No, that’s something I would remember. I’m sure of it. I lay on the ground next to him with a tattered blanket. Instinctively I look for the blanket, as if it’ll be crumpled in a corner. The far right corner, the one farthest from the door. The one where we used to huddle together.
I swallow thickly, brushing my eyes with the back of my hand.
This room is made to look the same, but it’s not.
That house was burnt down. I remember the smell. The ashes. I remember the fear that he was in there when it happened. That the boy had died, and was burned alive. I wanted to die myself. I screamed, and the officer held me close until my mother came to me.
She was crying, too. Even as she held me firmly against her chest, my tears soaked her shirt and hers fell into my hair.
The knowledge that there was no one inside didn’t take the pain away. A pain that’s never left me, a pain that’s enough to render me useless in this moment.
My eyes feel heavy as I turn to the door again. It doesn’t look like the old door. It was steel and gray. It was a door that couldn’t be broken down. This one is painted white with a simple handle. No locks.
“No locks,” I whisper and lick my dry lips.
I reach a hand out and then look up toward the ceiling. The far right is where the camera was all those years ago. I make a full circle, the sound of my feet shuffling across the floor accompanies me as I search for cameras in the room. But there are none.
Is he not watching? I find it hard to believe. I don’t understand. A throbbing pulse makes me wince and I close my eyes until it goes away, holding both of my hands to the sides of my head.
What are you doing, Jay?
Why this? I open my eyes, remembering John. Maybe he convinced him? It hurts to think that way. It fucking shreds me, but it fuels me to move. I need to get out. I’m not safe here, and neither is he.
I grip the doorknob, expecting it to be locked, but it’s not. My heart stutters and I test it again.
It’s too easy. I jiggle the knob again, and it turns easily. The soft click fills the air as I turn it and pull the door open slowly.
I can’t breathe. My heartbeat is too fucking loud.
I stand in the open doorway, too afraid to peek out, but somehow I force myself.
My brow knits as I rest my hand against the doorjamb and bite down on my lip, looking down a hall to what appears to be a basement. There’s a door at the very end, faint morning light spilling in and a set of stairs leading up to the outdoors.
I cautiously take one step, my bare foot sliding across the cement.
Did he really just forget to lock the door? Or is this a test?
I don’t take a moment to think. I don’t try to understand.
He’s not well, and he needs help, desperately. I can get him help. The thought pushes me to move faster, one step at a time as I look over my shoulder to a set of stairs that leads to the first floor of this house. I can’t hear a damn thing other than the blood pounding in my ears and the slamming of my heart.
My palms turn sweaty as I keep walking.
I can leave and get help. I’ll come back for him.
My body buckles at the thought, and I lean against the door to my potential freedom. The doorknob is cold in my hand.
I was going to come back, I almost whisper. I tried. I tried to go back, but the house was gone. I close my eyes, my body trembling and the memories flooding my mind.
His eyes are the same. God, his eyes are everything. The only thing
I can see. The boy and the man looking at me are the same.
He needs help. I need to help him.
A low growl makes my body tense. It continues, long and low and threatening, and coming from my right.
I can’t breathe remembering the dogs. No. No. I’m frantic as I rip the door open, pulling with everything I have and luckily, it too swings open and doesn’t hold me back.
It bangs hard against the wall, the harsh noise joining with the loud bark of the dog. I can’t help but look back, and staring straight at me are the dark eyes of a large black dog. His hackles are raised. He’s snarling and his white teeth are exposed, drool dripping from his jowls as he snaps them shut and barks again repeating his vicious warning.
My legs seem frozen, yet they move me forward. Terrified and without any other option, I move so quickly my body slams into the concrete wall straight ahead.
I reach back to the door, my hand slipping on the metal doorknob as terror races through my blood.
I try to close the door, I try to lock him in the house and escape, but it’s too late. The dog is too close. He charges for me. His large muscular body propels him at a speed I can’t match. A scream is ripped from my throat as I take the stairs two at a time.
The dog’s teeth clamp down on my legs near the top of the stairs and I fall hard, landing on my side with half my body still on the cement stairs and the upper half laying in a mixture of mud and grass. The dog releases me in an instant, but the moment I move my legs, a rough and vicious snarl rips through the air.
Jay.
My heart shatters in my chest.
His father had dogs too. How could he? How could he do this to me?
I try to get to my knees, to make a feeble attempt to run, but the black dog snarls and bites down on my arm the moment I lift it. He’s so close, so massive. He must be ninety, or maybe a hundred pounds and built with speed and muscle.
I’m no match for him. My cheek rests on the grass as my body stills. I'm frozen with fear. The dog doesn’t bite down, and he doesn’t growl, he merely holds me in place.
