Blindness (38 page)

His eyes are drilling into mine, and his
smile is soft and sincere. If there was ever a doubt that I wasn’t
supposed to be with Cody—that what I felt wasn’t real—it was
completely dashed by the things he just said. I smile at him,
biting my bottom lip, trying to look sexy—trying to get back to
that moment before I hesitated. My gaze dips down in that second,
and I take in the words written within the scrolls on his
chest:

Love with everything
.

I run my hand lightly over his heart, knowing
without even asking that the words are a lesson from his father.
Cody notices my gaze and quickly leans in to kiss me softly, his
hand once again tender along my face.

“That’s how I love you, you know?” he says,
swallowing slowly and meeting my eyes. “With everything.”

My knees are weak, and I’m grateful that he’s
kissing me again, his arms holding me up. I wrap one of my legs
around him, desperate to feel him against me, and he’s there. He
grips my leg and pushes into me against the wall, completely taking
me over, and I bite at his shoulder to muffle the tiny cry I let
out.

“Are you okay?” he whispers in my ear, and I
pull on him, forcing him deeper into me, assuring him, and he
responds with a groan. I feel his teeth at my shoulder as he kisses
his way up my neck, his hand deep in my hair.

“Cody, I just want to feel you—I need to feel
you…closer,” I say, gripping at his hips and guiding him into
me.

I cling to him as my hands slide up his back
until my fingers are twisted in his hair, and his forehead is
pressed to mine—our eyes never shut and never leave one another’s.
Our lips graze each other, but we stay locked just like this—afraid
to break this bond.

I’m clutching his arms, my fingers digging
into his biceps and sliding up and down his back under the warm
water. His skin is smooth, but I can also feel every ripple along
his body. He’s strong—his muscles hard and tested. I want to look
at him—I’m dying to see his chest and abs as they work over every
piece of me, but I can’t break away from his eyes. It’s like
they’re telling me a story, about how much he loves me, trusts me—I
can see him giving himself to me in the deep pools of blue staring
back at me.

I watch his face as he releases everything,
and I follow close behind, whimpering softly as I do. Cody doesn’t
speak, but his eyes grow even more intense, and his body quivers.
When we’re both done, we stay there, holding one another and
staring into each other’s eyes. It’s a connection like I’ve never
felt. I know I was always supposed to find him, my piece that was
missing.

By the time we leave the bathroom, Caroline’s
vacuuming has stopped. I’m rushed with panic at first, but I soon
hear the sound of the leaf blower outside, and I know she’s just
moved on to her next obsession.

Cody and I dress in jeans, sweatshirts, and
hiking boots. I feel like I should be wearing something nicer, like
I should dress for church or something, but I didn’t really bring
anything formal, and there’s a slight drizzle outside, making
everything muddy and gray. We throw what little we packed into our
small bags and carry them out to Cody’s truck. My aunt is refusing
to stop her chores—she knows I’m leaving, and this is her way of
dealing with it. We don’t say goodbye; never have. Even when I left
home for college, I left without any words at all—she was at the
store at the time, and I just left a note on the counter reminding
her to call me on my cell. I finally get her attention over the
sound of the leaf blower, and she stops it, but only for a few
seconds.

“So, you’ll be back? For the trial, right?”
she asks. This is what she’s thinking about—it’s all she thinks
about. The trial. The murder. My dad. I know she doesn’t want to
really
talk
about it, really
deal
with it—so, I just
nod
yes
and hold my hand up in a wave. She smiles back and
returns to her yard work. Caroline has always had this certain
detachment from reality. She dropped out of college during her
freshman year and has trouble holding a job. She cleans offices for
a living, and the irony doesn’t escape me given the chaos she lives
in.

I hate coming here. I hate leaving her—it
makes me feel guilty. And I hate that I feel guilty instead of
driven to fix her or care for her. I tried before I left for
Western, and it only made me resent her. I had to leave, and I know
Mac would never have expected me to take on his burden. But I also
know he’d be proud if I did.

“You okay?” Cody asks as I drag my feet back
to his truck where he’s waiting with the door open on my side,
holding it for me like he always does.

“Yeah…” I bite down on my lip, begging my
eyes not to betray me. But I can’t stop them from tearing up. “No.
I hate this place.”

I fold into his arms as soon as I reach him,
and he wraps them tightly around my head, kissing the top and
laying his cheek flat against mine. “Your aunt?” he asks, and I
just nod
yes
.

Cody squeezes me tighter, and I force my
breathing back to normal, willing myself not to break down any
more—at least not until we visit Mac.

I pick my head up when I hear the tires turn
over the loose gravel on the side of the road, and I back away from
Cody as soon as Trevor comes into view. Cody follows my gaze, and I
see his entire body tense when he realizes Trevor’s come back. I
know Cody wants to do this alone—just me and him—and I can see the
struggle in his eyes as he backs against his truck and pulls up his
hood on his sweatshirt, forcing his hands in the front pocket.

“So, what’s the deal?” Trevor asks, clearly
ready to spar more and aiming to pick a fight with me, with
Cody—probably with anyone willing.

“We’re going to visit Mac,” Cody says,
looking off to the side, careful not to engage him. His words seem
to stun Trevor a little, and he looks down, nodding.

“Oh, I…sorry, Charlotte. I didn’t know you
were planning on that,” he says, caught somewhere between the good
guy I know him to be and the angry man that wants to pound his
brother to pieces.

“It’s okay. Wasn’t really
planned
,
just sorta something I need to do…if that makes sense?” I say,
sniffling away my leftover emotions. I walk over to him and wrap my
hand around his folded arms, forcing him to look at me. His muscles
tense at my touch, his body somehow becoming even stiffer. He
recoils, and my stomach sinks knowing how badly I’ve hurt him.

“You flying out with me? I can move our time
if you need,” Trevor asks, but he knows what I’m going to say. He
won’t even lift his head to make eye contact with me.

“I’m going home with Cody,” I say, knowing my
words are killing him. He nods and chews at the inside of his
cheek.

“Right,” he says with a false laugh, lifting
his head once to smile at me, but it’s all acting. I can see the
pain underneath. “Well…maybe…I can come along, just until you guys
get through this?”

“That’d be nice,” I say, and I can feel Cody
deflate behind me, but he fights against showing it to Trevor,
instead forcing his lips into a tight-lipped smile.

“She could use the support. Thanks, man,”
Cody says, and I can see his words rub against Trevor’s grain, his
shoulders rolling at his words.

“Yeah, I guess you know what she needs…”
Trevor mumbles, just loud enough for me to hear. I’m grateful
Cody’s too far.

Trevor says he’ll follow us, and Cody opens
the door for me to get in, closing it gently behind me. I watch him
walk around his truck, his eyes on his brother as he walks down the
driveway, and I see a flash of regret cross his face. He tucks it
back inside when he climbs in next to me, but I know it’s there. It
makes my heart hurt, knowing the irreparable rift I’ve no doubt
left behind.

The drive to the cemetery is short, only a
few blocks away from the precinct. Every building between Mac’s
home and his final resting place is marked by a memory—and they hit
me like punches as we drive along the side street. My grade school,
the bus stop, the park where we used to look at the stars when the
moon was full, and the road to the convenience store—the final
road. The end. I’m shaking by the time we arrive, but I fold my
arms tightly across my body—I don’t want Cody to see how weak I am,
to feel like this is too much—because I
need
to do this.

It’s time.

We park along the roadway, and Trevor pulls
in behind us. I don’t wait for them. This is something I have to do
alone. I’m glad they’re here to pick me up if I can’t make it. I
also know if I can’t bring myself to see Mac—his name on some cold
stone I picked out from a catalogue the police chaplain shoved in
front of me and the bare dirt patch that covers what’s left of
him—then I will always be broken.

I know the path. He’s buried along with
several other officers near a special statue that the city erected
in their honor. His burial was free—as if that’s supposed to
somehow make it better. That’s one of the
perks
to being an
officer—when you leave this earth way too early, the city ponies up
for a mid-range coffin and some flowers.

My throat starts to close up the closer I
get, but I keep pushing my feet forward.
I have to do this. I
have to do this.
I can see the top of the stone, and I notice
the M right away. His grave is covered in flowers. I know Caroline
brings a new bouquet every Saturday, but there are so many more. My
father was beloved by his department—beloved by anyone he ever let
in. It usually took a while to wear him down, but after twenty
years in the same town, protecting the same people, eating the same
pies at the same diner, and getting his hair cut by the same
barber—well, Mac had managed to build quite a family of fans, even
if they all drove him crazy.

Cody’s hands are on my shoulders, and that’s
when I notice I’m on my knees. My face is soaking with my tears.
I’ve been crying silently for minutes, just looking at his name and
thinking about all of the things he’s going to miss, and I can feel
my stomach clenching with anger. I picture the face of his killer,
and I scream and push my fingernails deep into the grass, ripping
up chunks and throwing them at the grave.

“Daaaaddddy!” I scream, my hands covered in
dark soil. Cody’s reaching around my stomach and lifting me back up
to my feet, and I turn into him on instinct, nestling my face deep
into his chest and wailing for minutes, choking as I struggle to
breathe. Cody doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move. He just keeps me
locked in his arms, as he lets me
feel.

We’re at Mac’s grave for almost an hour, and
I’m weak when we leave. Cody reaches his arm under mine, supporting
most of my weight as we walk back to the roadway. I can tell he’s
tired—his limp is heavy, and it makes us slow. Trevor doesn’t
help—he stays far behind, but he stays. We get to Cody’s truck, and
he opens his door for me to climb inside. I pull my knees up and
turn sideways, leaning my face along the torn vinyl of his seat,
and Cody reaches up to wipe the leftover tears from my face with
his sleeve. He grazes my lip with the pad of his thumb and smiles
tenderly before he shuts my door.

My body is limp—my chest is heavy, and my
breathing is labored, but my insides feel strangely empty. I feel
lighter, like I’ve been holding onto a sickness for years and
finally found relief. It doesn’t feel natural, and I keep taking a
deep breath—a full breath—to make sure it’s real.

Cody’s walking around the front of the truck,
but he stops to pull his phone out of his pocket, and I can see him
struggling to hear whomever is on the other end, stuffing his
finger in his ear and pacing a few steps from the truck. He hasn’t
talked to Gabe or Jessie since we left, and I’m sure they’re
worried.

I check the rearview mirror to see if
Trevor’s made it to his car yet, but he hasn’t. He’s walking back
along the path, slowly. My neck twists back to the front the second
I hear the sound of Cody’s fist as it pounds on his hood over and
over again. His face is hard, his eyes red, and his jaw clenched
tightly. I can’t hear him or his conversation, but when he starts
to walk back and forth in front of me, digging his hands into the
front of his hair and looking up while he screams obscenities, I
know something is deeply wrong.

I pull the door handle slowly and slip from
the truck just in time to hear the end of his call.

“What do you mean, Gabe? How can they do
that?!” Cody’s yelling, and his eyes are on fire. “That fucking
liar!...No, Gabe. Just stay there. I’m coming home. Fuck! It’s
going to take me hours…just…”

Cody makes eye contact with me while he’s
talking, but his stare is blank, like I’m a stranger. Something’s
wrong, and my mind is racing with the possibilities. I piece it
together, but only seconds before it comes spilling out in front of
me—I know the second Cody’s eyes meet mine again, and they’re
cold.

“Just wait for me, Gabe. We’ll deal with it,”
he says, tossing his phone on top of his hood while he holds my
stare and walks by me, his eyes low and words hanging on his
breath. He can’t seem to speak them to me, and instead, he only
points his finger at me and shakes his head as he picks up speed
and heads straight to Trevor.

“You piece of shit!” he yells, moments before
he cocks his arm and sends his fist into Trevor’s completely
unsuspecting face.

Trevor falls back to the ground and grabs his
face, wiping the blood from his nose on his shirt and looking at
it. He gets some on his hand and holds it up to show Cody, almost
like he’s using it as evidence, as proof. “Fuck, man! What the
hell?” Trevor says, struggling back to his feet, but he never makes
it before Cody kicks him back down and lands on him to pound him
with his fist again and again—his tired body clearly fueled by rage
now.