Take Me With You(9)

Well, a wedding proposal is a special occasion, isn't it?

I open the jewelry box, resting on the top of a tall dresser, fingering through a few earrings and other necklaces, but I don't see the crescent moon charm.

“Huh?” I mouth to myself, switching on a tall lamp just beside me to get a better view. But I still can't find it. My heart races. This necklace is precious to me. My mother was a carefree hippy when I was a child. I spent most of my younger years in a commune. My mother was often busy tending to her own needs, and my grandmother, a child of the greatest generation, did not approve. She would take the long drive north whenever she could to pick me up and spend the weekend. She doted on me. She was what a mother should be. I lost her when I was thirteen and it was utterly devastating. She gave me this necklace on my thirteenth birthday shortly before she died. My name means evening prayer, so she said every night she looked up at the moon and prayed for me. And that this necklace reminded me of her.

By the time Carter returns to the room, the joy of the proposal is overtaken by full-blown panic. I had upturned every jewelry box onto my bed, and the necklace was nowhere to be found.

“What's going on?” he asks, his smile quickly changing to a frown of concern.

“I can't find the moon necklace. The one my grandma gave me,” I tell him, holding back tears.

“Okay, well just calm down. I'm sure it's here. When was the last time you saw it?”

“I—I don't remember exactly. But I know for a fact I put it in this box,” I proclaim, presenting it to him. “I know I did. I don't wear it because I almost lost it a long time ago and I spent hours combing the shores of Lake Tahoe trying to find it.”

“Well, maybe you put it somewhere else.”

“No, I didn't,” I snap. Maybe I'm going crazy. Maybe that man at the library was a vision. Maybe my memory is shot from the stress of classes and taking care of Johnny and my strained relationship with my mother.

I can tell Carter is disappointed by the shift the night has taken, but I have become a woman obsessed.

“I'm sorry Carter, but I won't be able to relax until I find this thing. It's all I have left of her. Something personal between us.”

“I understand,” he says, somewhat defeated. “How can I help?”

“You remember what it looks like?” I ask.

“Sort of.”

“Wait I have a picture up here from the last time I wore it. It's really clear on there.” I rifle through my picture board, looking for the picture I took at Lake Tahoe just before I lost it the first time.

“Okay, now I feel like I'm going insane,” I mutter.

“What?” he asks.

“I can't find the fucking picture,” I tamp down my urge to raise my voice. Waking up Johnny would only add to the stress, and my patience is as thin as a hair.

“Okay. Don't worry about it. It's a moon. I know what a moon looks like,” Carter says with some levity. “Let's give it an hour. After that, you need to let the thing find you. That's how it works. Deal?”

“Okay, but if I don't, I don't—” I bury my head in my hands. I feel the metal of the ring dig against my finger. Shit. He proposed and here I am just sucking all the joy out of tonight.

“We'll go to sleep and tomorrow, when we're fresh and well-fed, we'll go on the hunt again. I promise.”

I peek up through my fingers. “Deal,” I pout. “I'm sorry. I'm ruining everything. This night was so perfect.”

He runs a caring hand along the top of my head. “Hey, if I can't handle you through a lost necklace, what are you doing agreeing to marry me?”

I snicker.

“You'll find it. I know you will.”

Carter offers his hand to me and I reach out for it. Seeing the sparkling ring on my finger is a pleasant shock. I made the right choice.





Tonight was just supposed to be recon. I wanted to watch, learn more about her routines. Find out if there will ever be a time the kid won't be there. But shit, it seems like the kid is always with her. You'd think she's his fucking mom. She was alone for a while, which was nice. I watched her slender silhouette through her bedroom window as she changed into a simple dress. I watched her fondly tuck in her brother. She moved to the living room. It's harder to watch her there as the window faces the main street. It's safer in the bushes on the sides and back of the house.

So I wait by her bedroom. She'll be back eventually. Then I'll watch her evening routine. Experience her quiet, simple life. When she's home without her parents, it's easy to imagine myself in the house, eating a home-cooked meal she made for me, watching her undress to join me in bed.

They'll always tease you. No one understands you like I do.

The intrusive thoughts interrupt the fantasy. She'd never want me. I'll have to take her. I'll show her she's no better than me. Just like all the others. They groveled at my feet. They begged. I was their god. They all think they're smarter than me, but they're not. They're just ants in a farm I can squash whenever I feel like reaching in.

An hour or so passes and she's back in the room. But instead of a sweet angel who I can admire putting herself to bed, she's with him. That fucking prince. The guy who has probably never known a true trial since the day he was born. I can only see their outlines with the lights off. I watch, huffing like an angry bull as she mounts him. It's a mix of rage and arousal as it often is. Soon it'll be me, I tell myself. That makes it bearable. My throbbing cock begs for me to relieve myself in the bushes, but I resist. I want to save my nut for her. I want it to be so hard she screams as I puncture her. I refuse to relieve myself until I am inside of her.