Chasing Spring(40)

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” she spoke, enunciating each word.

“Do something, Lilah!” I argued.

Her hand shot out too fast for me to realize what she was doing. I felt a sharp sting on my cheek and then I reached up to touch it as her eyes grew as wide as saucers.

“I’m sorry. Please just let me by,” she said with a quivering lip. “I don’t want to fight about it right now.”

The explosion was over before it even began. She was recoiling into herself and taking the truth with her. I couldn’t let that happen.

“No more bullshit, Lilah.”

She tried to get by me again, and when I blocked her path, she threw her hands in the air, defeated but angry.

“What do you want from me?!” she cried, her voice growing louder. “GIVE IT UP, CHASE!”

“I want you to talk to me! Really talk to me. We went through the same thing! No one will understand how you feel more than I do!”

Her eyes turned into two little slits and she balled her hands into tight fists. She was angrier than I’d ever seen her and instead of caving like she wanted me to, I held my ground.

“I don’t want to talk about the past Chase!” Her words were venom ejected through clenched teeth. “I NEVER WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!”

I blinked, then blinked again.

Devastation hung in the air between us, waiting for an answer.

I fisted my hands and shook my head. “No. You can’t shut me out forever, Lilah. That night wasn’t your fault.”

“STOP!”

“You’re not the victim here and neither am I!”

She clenched her hands even tighter. “Don’t you get it?! We all became her victims! We still are!”





Chapter Forty-Two


August 2013

Blackwater, Texas





The cigarette smoke swirled through the air, curling in on itself and then dissipating in front of the apartment window. Elaine held her cigarette to her chapped lips and took another long drag, letting her eyelids flutter at the rush of nicotine. She was only halfway done, but she felt in her pocket for the nearly empty pack, finding relief in its presence.

Her hand shook as she flipped open the lid and pulled out another cigarette, tapping it against the window in beat with her heart. She’d stood there all day, watching and waiting. Her legs were tired and her stomach had long ago given up on food, but her mind’s discomfort was far greater than her body’s. The parking lot in front of her apartment was dark—always dark thanks to the street lamp that had burned out the year before.

Even without the light, she could see the black Camaro as it turned into the parking lot. There was no need to turn to the clock on her kitchen wall; she knew they were right on time. Donny was punctual.

The four men slid out of the dark car: Donny and his crew. Two of them were new, guys she’d never had the pleasure of seeing before. Their jeans were torn and their beards were long and unkempt. The one trailing the group pulled a little bag from his back pocket, measured out a hit with his pinkie fingernail, and snorted it, shaking his head as the cocaine took effect.

Donny’s partner, Carl, led the group. Carl was a skinny, sharp-featured man that Elaine had always assumed was a demon come to life. Dark, spiraling tattoos slithered up the sides of his neck, overtaking his face completely. The only features left intact were his dark eyes, staring straight at her through the thin window. She whipped the curtain closed and turned around, assessing the situation. None of them carried weapons; they concealed them. She knew from experience Donny always had a switchblade in his right pocket. The blade was dull and stained from use, and she prayed he wouldn’t use it when he killed her.

“Elaine, open the f*cking door,” Donny said as his fist hammered on the thin particleboard.

She inhaled the longest drag of her life, and then pressed the lit end of the cigarette hard into her forearm. The sharp pain brought her eyes into focus, and the flood of adrenaline made her feel strong, if only for this moment.

This moment had been coming for months, years even. Addiction came with a price, and she’d always known the devil would eventually show up to collect his due. Even so, as she unlocked the deadbolt and turned the handle, she suddenly had the urge to run. She wanted to turn back for the window, slide it open, and slip out into the night like she’d done as a little girl.

She wasn’t ready to die.

She wasn’t ready to leave Lilah.

She thought of her daughter as Donny kicked open the door with so much force it cracked the drywall behind it. Elaine jumped back out of the way and Donny stepped inside, bringing with him the smell of liquor and rot.

Donny’s thin lips twisted into a grin. “Nice to see you, Elaine.”

She took another step back as the four men walked into her apartment, claiming the space as their own. She avoided eye contact, staring instead at their shoes. Black, heavy boots stained her carpet, leaving trails of dirt and sludge that she’d never have to scrub away; it’d be a problem for the tenant that came after her.

The new guys trailed through her house, turning over her living room and tossing her couch cushions onto the ground. They took knives to the pillows, ripping open the material to get to the stuffing. They were looking for money, but they wouldn’t find any.

Carl and Donny stepped into her kitchen and Donny pushed the contents of her kitchen table onto the ground, sweeping her belongings away so easily that she had to squeeze her eyes closed as her life scattered across the linoleum floor.