Chaos and Control(46)

“You’re beautiful,” he says. A statement so simple it makes my heart thump against my chest. “You’re always beautiful. But right now, you’re stunning, perfect.”

“Preston.”

“It’s true, Wren.”

“No one is perfect.”

“But people can be perfect for each other. Don’t you think?”

“I should get going,” I say. Standing, I straighten the material of my dress and step toward him. The strain beneath his zipper is obvious, and it’s the only thing I see. “Because if I stay, I’m going to need to take care of that for you.”

I smooth my hand over his crotch, and his entire body jumps. Preston grips the door frame, his knuckles turning white, before he takes a step away.

“I’m not ready.” He groans and bangs his forehead once against the wall. “Listen to me, I sound like some teenager trying to protect my fucking virtue.” Preston takes a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds and releases it. “I’m fine, Wren. I’ll, uh, handle it.”

“Hmm. Thanks for that visual,” I say before strolling into the main room.

I slip into my shoes and grab my clutch from the floor while Preston unlocks the door.

“I had a great time,” he says.

“Yeah?” He nods, his eyes still filled with hunger. “And you weren’t intoxicated,” I point out.

“Nope.”

“You starting to feel differently about baseball?”

“You’ve definitely made me a fan.”

I laugh and place two kisses on his smiling lips. “Good night, Preston-who-handles-it-himself.”

He chuckles and looks away before his eyes come back to me. “Good night, Wren.”

Out in the hall, I lean against the wall and listen as he locks the doorknob, slides the chain into place, and clicks the deadbolt only once.

…

In the morning, I wake feeling refreshed and alive in all the right places. There’s a smile on my face, and the boy next door put it there. It’s early, so Bennie is getting ready for work when I enter the kitchen and pour a bowl of cereal and milk. As I eat, I flip through a stack of mail there and find a postcard. It shows the Buffalo Botanical Gardens on the front. Only my name and this address are on the back.

My heart leaps into my throat as my eyes focus on the handwriting; the lazy slant of the letters is unmistakable. I hear his voice in my head, not the soothing one, the one that was always followed by violence. It rattles me to my core.

“What was he doing here, Wren?”

“He was waiting for you to get off work, Dylan. I swear.”

“In my apartment. With my girl. And you think I believe nothing happened?”

That memory makes the cereal in my stomach want to revolt. I squash down my nausea and jump from the table. The postcard sits heavy in my grip. It feels like a cement brick instead of paper. I stand over the trashcan and rip it in half. And then I rip those pieces in half. My shaking fingers keep ripping until there is nothing but tiny squares of confetti that trickle through my fingers. My chest heaves with needed breaths as I stand over the garbage, wanting to light it on fire. But I know that won’t change anything.

He knows where I am.

A loud thumping sound echoes in my head. I search the room before realizing it’s my own pulse, my heart rattling its cage. Tears blur my vision as I try to reel in my emotions. Dylan has my phone number and now my address. The realization of those things sends me to my knees, as if the earth has vanished from beneath me. A choking sob escapes before I slap my hand over my mouth.

Bennie races in and drags me off the floor.

“Baby girl, what is it?” she says, gripping my shoulders. “Talk to me.”

All I can do is continue to cry as she moves me to the couch and sits me down. Bennie grabs a cool, wet towel and dabs at my cheeks. I chew on my lip while she waits expectantly.

“What’s going on, Wren? The truth.”

I spot a photo of the two of us hanging across the room. It’s the day of my high school graduation. We are both smiling at the camera, blissfully unaware of how much our lives would change. I swallow down my emotions and give Bennie what she’s asking for.

“The last city I spent time in was Buffalo, New York. I wasn’t there long before I met Dylan. He was so gorgeous and a badass—the kind of guy most girls are warned to stay away from. He liked me, and I was fascinated.”

Bennie strokes my hair and nods for me to continue.

“At first Dylan’s possessiveness was hot. I loved that he wanted me so much. He took me places and showed me things I hadn’t experienced yet. Some of them were good, some of them weren’t.

“After a couple months, I was ready to move on. His control over me seemed to get worse by the day. I never stayed in one place long. And even though I told him that from the beginning, he wasn’t willing to let me go.”

“Wren, did he hurt you?” she asks, more angry than scared.

I look away and ignore her question, but there’s affirmation in my silence. “I packed my stuff and tried to leave one night. The look on his face is one I’ll never forget. It was a clear warning, like my whole life flashing before my eyes. He threatened to kill me. I believed him, so I stayed.”

“How did you get away, sweetie?”