One (22 page)

Soon I don't hear his
footsteps anymore.

I know better than to
stop, so instead I glance back. No Pax. After a moment I decide to
head to the sidewalks behind the food trucks. I'm hoping to use the
cracks between each truck to spot Pax. I follow my plan to the T. I
make sure to stay small. I make sure to keep my eyes ahead and sneak
glances behind me.

I'd forgotten about the
alley that opens.

Pax jumps out from
beside me and grasps my arms. "Caught you."

He's got me.

My breathing is hard.
My eyes are wide. My heart is pounding with more than adrenaline.

Pax looks into my eyes.
"I got you," he tells me quietly. "I've always got
you."

I lay my head on his
chest.

That pounding in my
heart is relief.

* * *

I adjust the top on the
dress that Pax bought me. He's been doing that a lot lately, buying
me things for no particular reason. It makes him feel good, he says,
but it makes me feel like a charity case so we've compromised on only
one gift a week. This beautiful black dress is the most exquisite
thing I've ever owned. The fabric molds to my body, proving that I
really do have curves. I'm even proud of the way my chest looks in
it.

"I've never had a
girl surprise me before," Pax breaks the amicable silence.

For some reason, I'm
pleased by that. "Oh?"

He glances at me. "So
you're going to set the precedent. Either I'm going to love surprises
from now on, or I'm going to hate them."

I smile secretly.
"We'll see."

"I already have
everything I want."

The way he looks at me
when he says it makes my heart grow so big, that for a moment I think
I'm drowning in it, basking in the warmth of his affection. I let out
a shaky breath, needing to let something go. The raw, intense emotion
pulsing through me is getting stronger every day. The more it's fed,
the larger it grows, consuming more and more of me until I'm afraid
I'll be nothing without Pax. I shiver.

"Are you cold?"
I shake my head, but he's already made a move to turn down the air
conditioning. His hand rests at my thigh. "Where to?" he
asks.

"The cliff."

His eyebrows shoot up.
"You're going to surprise me with my own surprise?" he
guesses. I make the motions of zipping my lips shut, refusing to say
more. "I hope you made Paninis," he continues.

"I didn't."

"Damn. Are you
planning to carry me at least?"

I make a face at him.
"I'd try but you'd break my legs and that would piss Anna off."

"Hmm. She does
have an extreme disregard for incompetency."

I nod. "And she
would consider a broken leg highly incompetent."

"All right,"
he decides. "You don't have to carry me. You
do
have to
pretend to be my slave for the rest of the night though."

"Your
slave
?"

"My love slave."
He grins wickedly. "You can feed me grapes, rub my shoulders,
bend your luscious body-"

"-and kick you in
the eye socket with my toe?" I finish sweetly.

He makes a strangled
sound from his throat. "Whoa, now that's just violent, little
lady. Toes and eye sockets are two things we should never think about
while being intimate." He shudders.

"Who says we're
being intimate?"

"What kind of
surprise doesn't involve being intimate?" he demands, sounding
genuinely upset.

I roll my eyes and try
not to smile. "The kind you'll remember forever."

He doesn't comment. I
swat him in the shoulder, and he catches my hand, kissing it loudly.
"No matter," he says. "As long as you're there I'll
like it." His words are effortlessly charming- like him- and I
decide if Pax could bottle his charisma there would be world peace,
half-naked bouncing women, and international orgies in abundance.

"You're a tease,"
I state.

"If by 'tease' you
mean I'm delightful, captivating, incredible, fabusometastic-

"
Fabusometastic?
"

"Fabulous,
awesome, and fantastic all into one," he explains, glancing at
me. "Don't you know you can smoosh up words? All the cool kids
are doing it."

"That's st-"

Without warning, a loud
sound comes from beside me and the car jerks to the side violently. A
scream bursts forth but is abruptly cut short when my head almost
hits the dashboard in front of us.

"What the fuck?"
Pax yells as he fights to control the car. He's forced to swerve to
the left, to avoid whoever is hitting us. Whatever is beside me is
pushing us, trying to clear us from the road.

I lean back against my
seat, seeing spots. My head hurts, and I wince when I touch my
forehead. I see Pax glance past me. "What the hell are you
doing, man?" Pax shouts, frustration and anger evident on his
face. Obviously, they can't hear us. Slowly, I turn to look beside
me, the movement painful to make.

The face I see inside
the black car next to us causes me to stop breathing.

"Oh my God,"
I whisper. I'm frozen, completely filled with dread. "
Oh my
God.
"

Before I can blink the
car comes at us again, hitting harder this time.

"He's trying to
kill us!" Pax snarls, looking ahead. "That fucker is
crazy!"

Yes he is.
The
more I stare into his eyes, the angrier he's becoming. He's beyond
livid. He's homicidal. Still, I can't tear my gaze away. I watch him
swerve again, hitting harder each time.

"Shit!"

Suddenly, the car
breaks, and I'm jerked painfully back, the seat belt cutting into my
skin. Pax puts the car in reverse and it takes me a moment to notice
we're moving backward. Our abrupt actions don't faze him. He follows
us, putting the car in reverse too, slamming his trunk into our
front.

"Get down, Jules!
What if he has a gun!"

I'm too dazed to move.
I can only stare with horror as his face turns back to look at me. He
never breaks eye contact as he rams into our car- faster, harder. I
hear wheels screeching. Lights flicker, and then a moment later, one
of the lamplights stop working. For a second, his face is completely
hidden by the night shadows, and the only things visible are narrow
slits of angry brown eyes.

The first thought that
comes to me is
he doesn't look like how I remember
. Then all
thoughts disappear when we're hit from behind. I yell out, the impact
causing my head to hit the window beside me. "Aaaah!" I
scream, fighting to stabilize my body. It's no use though, Pax is in
drive again and he's moving forward, pushing our attacker back.

"Get down, Jules!"

Immense pain shoots
between my temples.

"Lower your head!"

Pax's large hands force
my shoulders down. I wince, crying out from the pain, but he ignores
it. He doesn't let off the pressure even when I hear him curse in
panic. Vaguely, I realize he's driving one handed while he holds me
down.

"Pax," I
croak.

If he hears me, he
doesn't show it. "It'll be okay, Jules. I'm going to lose him. I
know this city like the back of my hand and his Minnesota license
tells me he doesn't."

"Be careful,"
I warn him.
He's dangerous.
My voice is small and weak
sounding. I feel a flare of embarrassment, but mostly I feel pain and
shock.

"He's talking to
us," Pax suddenly says.

What?
I wince,
when the car is jerked again.
What did Pax just say?

"Well, I'm not
just going to roll down my window, psycho bastard…"

Wheels turn. Tires
screech. Human yells. Sirens.

"We have to get
out of here," I tell Pax weakly. I remember him telling me his
apartment is in the city not far from here. "Take us to your
apartment!" My words burst out. "Quickly!"

"Are you crazy,
Jules? We need to talk to the cops. Some psychotic asshole just tried
to kill us! He pushed us onto ongoing traffic-"

"Do you trust me?"
They’re the only words I can think of.

Pax gives me a strange
look as if I'm crazy too. "Now isn't the time for this, Jules."
His voice is calmer but I see a tick on his cheek. "We need to
get that asshole's license, pull over some place safe and tell the
cops what happ-"

"No!" My
voice is sharp. "We can't Pax!"

"He's getting
away! Grab a pen and get his damn license, Jules!"

"No!" I cry.

"Jules!" He's
trying to look at me and drive at the same time. "What the hell
is going on with you right now? I need you to calm down babe, and get
the pen-"

"No!" I
shout. "
No!
Don't you see? It's no use."

"What?"

I take a deep breath. I
can't look at Pax when I tell him. I can't bear to see the
disappointment. I can't bear to see the disgust.

My lips quiver. "He's
here for me."

Seven months earlier

They will hunt for my
blood.

I know it. It's what
people like them do. They're experts at it.

My hands shake. I'm a
coward. What I should really do is go to the police. They killed
Grandma because she saw something she shouldn't have seen. I don't
think the police can protect me. Corruption is a friend to all, even
those in uniforms. It seems,
especially
those in uniforms.

I'm afraid to trust
anyone, even Braidon. He doesn't know I'm planning to leave. He would
never help if he knew. Grandma always warned me men were no good;
they want something in exchange for what they do for you. Always. She
says when God created Eve from Adam's rib, he took a little extra. He
took Adam's heart too.

Men are heartless.

After what I've seen, I
know this to be true.

My hands clasp tightly
at the bucket in front of me.

I'm just as sick as
Braidon is.

He might be obsessive,
needy and possessive, but at least he doesn't do illegal things.

I take a deep breath. I
want to hurt Juan Gonzales the way he's hurt me. I want to take away
what he loves the most, the way he has taken what I love the most. I
want him to suffer. Sometimes my rage scares me. It comes and goes,
quick little spurts that leave me trembling on the floor.

The liquid inside the
can is dark and smelly. I carried it from a gas station seven miles
from here. I walked and hid in the shadows. I should've been afraid
to be alone in such a deserted place. I'm vulnerable and small. But
the only thing that truly scares me is not going through with this.
My greatest fear of all is letting them all walk free to do this
again to another family, to another little girl.

Now that the moment is
here, I'm not as triumphant as I thought I'd be. I'm not as angry.
Hysteria threatens to burst forth. On the one night it matters the
most my emotions betray me. I feel completely empty, hollow, like a
broken tree.

I'm resolute even as I
tremble. What I'm doing is reckless. It's dangerous. What other
choice did someone like me have though? I have no money to bribe and
no connections to speak of. I have nothing but my guts. As little as
that might seem, it's enough for tonight.

I recount all the
reasons why what I'm doing is right:

1) He killed my Grandma

2) He has killed others

3) He will kill again

4) No one will stand up
to him.

There's a reason
why
no one dares stand up to him,
a terrified part of me whispers.
It's the part that aims to survive, the part that Grandma nurtured
her whole life.

I push the instinct
down.

Maybe tonight will be
the end of it. Maybe no one will hurt anymore.

I take a determined
step forward. An owl hoots nearby; it sounds close. Out of the corner
of my eye, I spot it. It's golden and majestic, and if I wasn't
completely numb with nerves I might have tried to get nearer.
Instead, I continue walking forward, turning the bucket to the side,
letting the liquid pour out. I hear the flutter of wings, and I pause
again. Is the owl following me? I need it to get away. It isn't safe.

"Shoo," I
whisper. "Shoo owl!"

He obviously doesn't
understand because he continues to stare at me with his strange
yellow eyes, peering into me like he can read my secrets.

"It's for the
best," I tell him. "I have to."

He continues watching
me. I feel his presence like a cloak as I walk the perimeter, making
sure to add a little more on thicker patches. We're secluded and
there shouldn't be another soul for miles. I stop when I reach the
spot where I started.

"You need to go,"
I whisper, staring at the owl. "Fly away."

He looks at me like I
should follow. For a moment, I want to. I want to soar into the sky
and disappear behind the clouds. I want to dance on a star and never
come down to green fields again.

He gives me a strange
sad look and then lifts his powerful wings. I watch him fly upward. I
watch him disappear the way I so desperately want to.

I'm alone in the
darkness.

Suddenly, it's so thick
and confining that for a moment I feel like I'm being swallowed down
a pit. It's not a new feeling. I've felt like this since the moment
Grandma was murdered. I wonder if the hole inside me will ever fill
up. I wonder if I'm cursed to be empty until the day I pass my
emptiness onto the earth. Maybe the soil can make something better of
me. Maybe it will finally heal me.

Braidon's face flashes
in my mind. He would be here tonight if I asked it of him.

He would go with me to
Hell and back. The scary thing is I don't think he'd feel it. He
would burn with me and he wouldn't feel a damn thing.

I take out the matchbox
from my jean pocket. My hands fumble with it and it falls to the
ground, landing as softly as the wind. Frantic, I kneel down, my
fingers wildly spreading to find it again.
Stupid!
Why did I
have to drop it? My hands touch something silky and wet. My first
instinct is to take my hand back, but I feel something stiff. The
match. I breathe a sigh of relief. Standing up, I touch the match to
the box. I look at what's in my hand. Small things can do so much
evil. With a flick of my wrist, I light it. My fingers shake when I
feel the heat.