My lips part. “I think it might be time…”
“For what?” His voice is strained. “Avery, is this because of what I just told you? Because I promise it hasn’t happened in a long time. I’m doing better.”
I jerk out of his arms, shaking my head. “No, that’s not it at all. This is about me…” I glance up at the stars one final time then inch back into the moonlight. With a faltering breath, I reach for the bottom of my shirt and tug it over my head, bearing my scars. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Two years, five months, and three days earlier…
Chapter 34
The day I died.
Avery
I’m passed out on the sofa from last night’s late shift at the gas station, having little time to react as Conner comes staggering inside the trailer. At first, I think his reddened face is directed at me, that he’s angry with me again, but then three men enter behind him. I instantly wonder if something’s wrong because they’re not just any three men. They’re three very large men all packing guns in their hands.
“Where’s Mason?” Conner asks carefully as he looks around the small room stacked with boxes. We’ve lived here for two months, but I’m so sick of moving I haven’t bothered to unpack yet.
Sitting up on the sofa, I vigilantly glance from the men to Conner. “He’s at the neighbor’s on a play date. Why?”
“We need to talk,” Conner says as he rushes across the living room and up to me. His mouth is twitching, which means he’s high, and the purplish dots on his forearm means he’s been doing drugs excessively.
I can sense impending trouble in the air that’s been heading at me for a long time, like a train is moments away from wrecking me into a million pieces.
“I thought you were moving out…” I look over at the men in the doorway. The tallest of the three smiles at me, but it’s not in politeness. No, it’s a warning. “Who are they?”
He throws a panicked glance over his shoulder then kneels down in front of me, putting his hands on top of my knees. “I need to tell you something.”
I jolt from his touch and try to squirm my legs out from under his hands, but he pierces his nails into my flesh until he draws blood.
“Conner, let me go,” I say, jerking to get free.
He shakes his head, his hands tightening on my legs in desperation. “You need to listen to me. I owe these guys a lot of money, Avery, and it’s become a problem.”
“Well, I don’t know what you want me to do about it.” I look over at the men again, noticing one of them is removing his belt. When he catches me staring at him, his lips twist to a grin. My attention zips back to Conner. “We’re broke. We don’t have any money.”
“See, that’s the thing… you can help,” he explains quietly. “They’re going to give me more time to come up with the money on one condition.”
Like a horse senses a thunderstorm, I want to flee. “And what’s the condition?”
Before he can respond, the guy without the belt steps forward and sets his gun down on top of a stack of boxes near him. “It’s you, sweetheart.”
My gaze whips from him to Conner, my eyes pleading with him not to do this. When I see his deadened expression, I shove him down and spring from the sofa. I make it three steps before I’m tackled from behind and knocked to the ground. The carpet scrapes my cheek, and my body screams out in pain as Conner bears his weight down on me.
“It’ll be over soon,” Conner whispers in my ear. The worst part is that he actually sounds sorry. After everything he’s done, the motherfucker is sorry.
“Fuck you. I fucking hate you… God, please don’t do this.” It’s the last thing I say before a hand slaps over my mouth and an unfamiliar body pushes down on me.
“The less you fight, the quicker this will be over, sweetheart,” the guy says, and then my pants are being yanked down.
I fight back.
Fight like my life depends on it.
But I’m weak.
Helpless.
I fucking hate being helpless.
I hate everything.
The way he touches me.
Uses me.
Breaks me.
That Conner watches me suffer.
That he broke every promise he made to me.
That I broke a thousand promises to myself.
That I broke myself.
That I didn’t fight hard enough.
That I let all this happen.
Maybe that’s what hurts the most.
That I did this to myself.
I just want to die.
God, let me die.
When it’s all over, I’m still alive though, but hollow inside.
I’m still breathing.
I don’t want to be breathing.
I remain motionless on the floor until I hear the men leave the house. But there’s still someone in the living room.
“Avery, I…” Conner struggles with what to say.
A single tear drips down my face and splatters like blood on the carpet. “Get the fuck out.”
Moments later, the door squeaks as he leaves, for the first time doing what I’ve asked him.
I stay face down on the floor for what feels like an eternity, unable to move, unable to cry, unable to do anything. It’s like I’ve died, yet somehow I’m still breathing and my heart is still beating. All I can think about is all of my wishes and how they never came true, and what I would wish for now if I still believed in dreams.
I’d wish I couldn’t feel the pain.
Wish this was all over.
Wish I could get rid of the past, burn it all away.
All of it.
Maybe it’s time.
When I finally stand again, it’s only to put an end to my misery. My rubbery legs stagger down the hallway to my bedroom and trip over the clothes on the floor to get to the dresser. I open the top drawer, grab the box of matches inside, and then pick up a bottle of tequila from the nightstand before collapsing on the bed.
With the little energy I have left in me, I douse the mattress with alcohol then remove a match. Without much forethought, I strike the tip of it against the side of the box and watch it burn, quickly singeing away the wood, erasing it into nothing.
Right before it can burn out, I drop the match and the mattress engulfs in flames. Then I curl into a ball and watch as the fire spreads around the room and melts the walls. Smoke circles the air as fire hisses at my skin. Heat scorches deep into my bones and erases my sins—erases everything. The smoke detectors siren off, but I barely hear the sound over my own screaming. Pain. So much pain.