Authors: Katie McGarry
He’s going to kill me. My hands go to the fingers crushing my throat, but I can’t pry them off.
He’s stronger than me and powerful and he’s going to win.
Trent jerks and his fingers loosen. Ryan
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holds Trent in a headlock as I collapse to the ground and draw air into my burning lungs.
My hands flutter near my neck and cover
where his fingers marked my skin.
“Baby!” Mom’s hand joins mine on my
throat. “Are you okay?”
Dazed, I nod.
Mom snatches my biceps and yanks in an
effort to get me off the floor. “Let’s go.”
Ryan curses and I unsuccessfully struggle to stand. “Help him, Mom.”
Ryan locks his other arm around Trent’s
neck and yells, “Go, Beth!” Trent battles against Ryan’s hold and Ryan’s face strains as he fights to keep his grip.
Mom shakes her head. “Let’s go. Now. He’ll hurt me.”
Trent elbows Ryan in the gut, swings around and lands a blow to Ryan’s face. Ryan falls.
“No!” Screams and pleas fly from my
mouth. Blood covers Ryan’s face. Trent stands and kicks Ryan in the stomach. I scream out in pain when I place weight on my left arm.
“Help him, Mom!”
“We have to go now, Elisssabeth.” Mom
calmly slurs my name. “I want to leave. I’ll go
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with you now.”
I turn my head and stare at the eerie image of my mother. Her tired eyes with their
constricted pupils look at me as if I’m a shadow instead of her daughter. Mom squeezes my hand again. For the first time, she’s not rubbing her arm.
Cradling my left arm close to my body, I
grip the table and pull myself to my feet. “You shot up?”
As I stand, Mom drops to the ground. In
shame? In exhaustion? Too high? I don’t know.
Refusing to watch Ryan die, refusing to
make eye contact with me, Mom covers her
head with her arms and rocks over and over again.
Blood pours over my eye and my sight
wavers as my body sways to the side. My
fingers accidently hit Mom’s cordless phone near the edge of the table.
Heroin.
It destroyed me nine years ago and one
phone call cost me my father.
Heroin.
If I call, my mother will go to jail.
Heroin.
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My finger slides against the numbers and
like nine years ago I listen to the phone ring once, twice, a third time. The world turns black, then reappears in a fuzzy tunnel. My knees buckle and I force consciousness for a few more seconds.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
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I SET MY CELL to the loudest ringtone and place it on my chest before I rest my head on my pillow. Beth’s supposed to come home from the hospital today and because of that I’ve refused pain medication. I want to hear her voice on the other end of the line and know that she’s only a mile down the road instead of thirty minutes away in Louisville.
Then, for the first time in more than a week, I can sleep deeply.
My body is one slow, throbbing ache. Every pressure point pounds in time with my pulse.
Broken ribs, bruised everything, and cuts. Each and every injury worth the cost of saving Beth.
“Can you tell me why?” My dad’s voice
carries into the room.
My eyes flash open and I turn my head to
see him leaning against the door frame with his
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gaze pinned to the floor. It’s the first words he’s said to me since I hit him. He’s been around. Present, but not speaking. I don’t feel bad about it, because I haven’t talked to him either…until now. “Why what?”
“Why you risked it all for that girl?”
“Because I love her. And her name’s Beth.”
No response. Sometimes I wonder if Dad
knows what love is.
“Scott called,” he says stiffly. “He wanted to remind you that there are rules now. He’s angry with both of you and he won’t be letting her out of the house anytime soon.”
I return my focus to the ceiling. I can deal with rules as long as I’ve got Beth. Scott’s been a mixture of grateful and pissed. In hindsight, maybe I should have called him when I found Beth’s note, but I don’t think Beth would have listened to him. She needed me.
“I don’t think you should continue to see her,” Dad says.
“Don’t remember asking.”
There’s silence and when I glance out of the corner of my eye, Dad’s gone. Who knows if the two of us can fix what’s been broken.
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My cell buzzes and my stomach
plummets when I notice Beth’s name above the text. She promised she’d call.
Friends, right?
I half chuckle. It’s the first text she ever sent me.
Always.
The doorbell rings and I rub my eyes. I’m too exhausted for guests, but they keep
coming: my friends, the baseball team, my coaches, teachers, my parents’ friends.
Mom and Dad’s slightly raised tones
indicate that they’re disagreeing over
something, and I don’t care enough to figure out the issue. I expect them to continue the argument, but what I don’t expect is Mom’s voice at the door of my room. “Because I said so.”
She throws a glare down the hallway before addressing me. “Ryan, you have a guest.”
Before I can ask who, Beth walks into my
room with her left arm in a sling. The breath slams out of my body. She’s here. Forgetting about my injuries, I rush to sit up—and wince.
The smell of roses overwhelms me and I
glance up to see Beth by my side.
“You look like hell. Have you been resting at all?”
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The right side of my mouth quirks up.
“It’s nice to see you, too.”
“I’m serious.” Beth doesn’t wear worry well and the ache on her face bothers me.
I capture the hand she uses to try to push me back down, bring it to my lips, and kiss her palm. God, I’ve missed her.
A clearing of a throat and I notice Scott standing beside my mother at the door. “A few minutes, Beth, then we’re heading home.”
Beth nods and I watch my mother’s reaction to a girl in my room. She studies us, almost like someone seeing a painting they don’t quite get. There’s no malice in her expression, just curiosity. “I’m leaving the door open.”
“Thanks,” I say and I mean it. Mom’s trying now—not only with me, but with Mark, and I have Chris to thank for it. He called Mark when EMS brought me into the emergency
room. Mark and Mom talked for the first time while I was in X-ray. Both are silent about the conversation they had, but they’re speaking again. It’s a start.
Scott leans his head in when Mom leaves
and stares straight at Beth. “Behave.”
She rolls her eyes. “Because the moment
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you leave we’re going to go at it like wild animals. Please.” She motions to her arm.
“Broken bones and bruises are so attractive.”
Scott shakes his head as he follows Mom to the living room and Beth mirrors his
movements. Do they have any idea they’re
clones of each other?
Beth sinks onto the bed and turns her head toward me. I don’t like how she looks. Beyond the cuts on her face and head, plus the bruises, she’s too pale and dark circles outline the bottom of her eyes. Wondering if I’m
dreaming, I reach over and rub her hair
between my fingers. It’s silky and real. I let the strands fall and meet her gaze. “How are you?”
I hate the way her forehead crinkles and the pain weighing her features. She closes her eyes briefly. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault he hurt you.”
“Nope, not going to hear it.” I grab Beth’s hand and coax her to lie with me on the bed.
She resists. “But your mom—”
“What’s she going to say? I’m hurt. You’re hurt. We got tired and lay down. I want to hold you so for once in your life can you not fight me?”
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“Wow. Someone’s cranky.”
“Damn right I am.” But the knots twisting my gut begin to unravel when I lie back and Beth wraps her body gingerly around mine.
She’s hesitant, testing areas first to confirm the contact won’t make me sore, and I’m gentle when placing an arm around her so that I don’t jostle her arm.
When we’re settled, I exhale and close my eyes. I’ve dreamed of this for seven days. Who knows, I’m probably dreaming now. If I am, maybe Beth will do something that’s hard for her; maybe she’ll give me answers. “Why did you believe Gwen over me?”
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I READJUST, SNUGGLING CLOSER to Ryan, but braced for signs that I’ve hurt him. I can hear his heart now and the inhale and exhale of air through his lungs. If I weren’t so damn tired, I could possibly cry. I thought I lost him at my mom’s apartment.
Ryan runs a hand through my hair and I lick my lips, searching for courage. He deserves an answer. If not because he risked his life to save me, then because I love him. “I didn’t trust you.”
His heart beats several times before he
speaks again. “Why?”
Because I was stupid. “I don’t know.…” I
don’t have Ryan’s way with words. They’re hard for me. Difficult. At least words that have emotion. “I guess it was easier to believe that you used me rather than loved me. To be
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honest…I don’t get it. Why would someone
like you want to be with someone like me?”
Ryan tips my chin up so that I have to look him in the eye. “Because I love you. Beth—
you’re everything I want to be. You’re alive and live without apology. I never would have made love to you if I thought you didn’t trust me…or love me. And I never would have done it if I didn’t trust and love you.”
I lean up on my elbow and my heart is
practically yanked out of my chest by the hurt in his eyes. “I do love you, and I want to trust you.…It’s just that…I try.…And…”
Just damn. I slam my good hand on the bed.
Why can’t I explain it? Why am I so impaired?
“Hey.” The authority in his tone causes me to meet his gaze. My heart stalls when Ryan caresses my cheek with one finger and, under his touch, my skin turns red. I miss this. I’ve missed him. Maybe I’m not fucking this all up.
“Breathe,” he instructs. “It’s okay. Take your time, but just keep talking.”
Keep talking. I actually stick out my tongue in disgust and Ryan fights a smile. If he weren’t so battered already I’d sock his arm. I blow out a rush of air and try again.
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“I don’t know.…I just
don’t…trust…me.” I blink and so does Ryan and it feels sort of scary and exposing to have said something so raw. He rubs my arm, urging me to continue, and I don’t know how to
continue. That’s bull. I just don’t want to continue. But this is beyond what I want. This is about me and Ryan.
“I don’t want to make bad choices
anymore.” I glance at him, hoping I’m making sense, because I’m not sure that I am. “And I sort of think that any choice is bad because I’m making it and then I meet you and you’re great and you’re wonderful and you love me and I love you and I’m just so damned scared I’m going to screw it all up.…”
I slam my eyes shut and my lower lip
trembles. “And I did. I messed it all up again.”
Ryan cups my cheek with his palm. I lean
into it and open my eyes. “I’m glad it
happened,” he says.
“I thought they ran an MRI on your head.”
His eyes laugh. “They did. Just answer me this—before Trent arrived, were you going to leave with me?”
I swallow and I’m nodding before I answer.
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“Yes.”
“Why?”
My eyes narrow as I try to understand the question.
“No, Beth. Don’t think about it. Just give me the first answer that comes to mind. Why were you going to leave with me?”
My eyes flash to his and my mouth pops
open. No, it’s not possible, because if it is, then it’s a first for me.
The same hope I’ve seen a million times
from Ryan builds on his face. Is it possible he’s known all along? “Say it, Beth.”
“I love you.” Those used to be the hard
words, but now they’re easier. I exhale and the air shakes as it comes out of my mouth.
“Nice try,” he says. “The other thing. Say that.”
“Ryan…” My throat dries out and sweat
forms along my hairline. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” He tucks my hair behind my ear.
“But it’s okay.”
His fingers slowly trail down my arm, over my sling and he rests his fingertips against mine. A warmth unfurls within me, starting in my heart and flowing through my bloodstream.
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It creates a weird sensation of chains
unlocking and breaking free. It’s almost as if I’m floating.
“I trust you,” I say. “I was going to leave with you because I trust you.”
Ryan’s silent, but the small, peaceful smile on his face causes me to smile in return. I wonder if my smile looks like his. I trust him.
Ryan. It’s a little scary, but not as much as I thought it would be. Maybe this is it; maybe this is the beginning Scott’s talked about for months—the clean slate.
“Was that so hard?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Ryan touches my hair again. It’s like he
requires the contact to confirm I’m not a ghost.
“You need to learn how to start trusting
yourself.”
I flop down so that my head rests on the
pillow beside him. Ryan’s slow as he shifts.
Our faces are so close that our noses almost touch. My arm begins to ache and I have a feeling Scott will show soon because he’s timed my pain med schedule into his phone.
“Do you mind if I heal first before I tackle anymore long-lost resurfacing emotional
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