Now though, now I know I’m capable of anything.
Of murder.
Trent’s fingers stop drawing on my back and he hugs me protectively. “I’m going to suggest something, Kacey. Please don’t get mad.”
I don’t answer. I just listen to his heartbeat. I let it consume me. I feel it with every fiber of my body.
“I think you should meet this Cole guy. Maybe there’d be some sort of closure. You two are the only survivors of a horrific accident. You have something in common.”
Now I sit up. I sit up and stare at Trent. I stare at him like he’s grown five heads and set three of them on fire and the other two are eating the flaming heads. Pacing my racing heart and calming myself, I speak.
“I will say this once and never again.” My voice is even. I don’t yell, I don’t cry, I don’t shake. “I do not want to see, or talk to, or know Cole Reynolds.” The name twists my mouth with distain. “It was his car that plowed into ours. He handed his keys to his friend who then shattered my life to smithereens. I hope wherever he is, he is suffering. I hope everyone he loves has abandoned him. I hope he doesn’t have a dime and has to eat cat food and maggots. I hope he goes to sleep every night and wakes up reliving that terrible night. Reliving what he did to me. To Livie.” I let out a vacuous sigh and lie back down on Trent’s chest as if unloading that sheer magnitude of hatred is somehow liberating. “And then I hope his balls catch on fire.” My voice is cold and hard. I don’t bother to conceal the hatred of my words. I unleash full-heartedly. I revel in it. Hatred good. Forgiveness bad.
Silence takes over as Trent’s arms tighten around me, his chin resting on the top of my head. I feel a new tension in him and I’m not surprised. I stare at the wall and wonder just how screwed up Cole Reynolds’ life really is. I wonder if he’s resorted to working in a strip club to give his sister the life she deserves. I wonder if he had to abandon his dreams of college. I wonder if he winces in pain with every rain fall because his body is held together with metal.
But most of all, I wonder what Trent thinks of his pretty little fucked up redhead now.
***
I wake up to an empty room and a note on my pillow. Five words.
Had to go. I’m sorry.
I assume Trent has a new work contract. Still, I’m disappointed. I could use another dose of his body if he’s willing to administer. I roll out of bed and stretch, the horror of last night at Penny’s pushed aside in favor of my memories of a night with Trent. It’s been so long since I felt that. Scratch that. I never felt that. Sex was never like that with Billy. I cared deeply about him, but we were young and inexperienced. Trent’s not inexperienced. Trent knows exactly what he’s doing and he does it very well. And, something’s just different with Trent. He’s like ripe watermelon after a lifetime of thirst. He’s like air after years under water.
He’s like life.
Stage Six~ Withdrawal
Chapter Fourteen
I walk into Storm’s apartment to find Mia waiting expectantly like a wide-mouth bass while Dan, in striped boxers no less, tosses Cheerios into her mouth. I guess Storm and Dan made up. Relief swells inside me. I like seeing Storm with him.
He stops the game to take me in with a worried look. “How are you feeling today?”
“Good.” I smile as I pop a Cheerio into my mouth. Dan doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know how skilled I am at entombing horrid memories. I’m a master. In only hours, it’s all but forgotten and, as long as no one brings it up, it will stay that way. I walk over to Storm, who’s mixing batter in a big glass bowl. “Pancakes?” She holds up a ladle.
I nod, patting my stomach. “Did you see Livie this morning?”
Storm nods. “She left for school not long ago.” She drops a spoonful of pancake mix onto the griddle and the kitchen fills with the sizzling sound. She fixes me with the same worried look that Dan just gave me. “How are you feeling, really?”
“I’m … good. I’m better.”
“You sure? Dan knows a guy you can talk to if it’ll help.”
I shake my head. “I’m good. Seeing you here, alive and well, and serving me pancakes is all I need.” I rub her back with one hand as I grab a plate of food with the other. Yup, this is exactly what I need. Storm and Mia, and Livie and Trent. Even Dan. This all I need right now.
***
Me: I have the night off. You coming over?
I wait and wait but I get no text response from Trent. Impatient, I walk over to his apartment and knock. No answer. His place is pitch black. Then I wander out to the commons on a fake mission to inspect the hibachi. Really, I want to see if Trent’s bike is there. It is. I go and knock on his door again and wait. Still no response.
Cain won’t let either of us work that night. In fact, he’s forced Storm to take an entire week with danger pay. I’ll bet Dan is happy about that. By the light bounce in Storm’s step, I think she’s okay with it too. I would be happy too. If Trent was here.
I don’t hear from Trent the next day.
Or the next.
No text. No call. It’s like he’s dropped off the face of the Earth.
I go back to Penny’s on the third night with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. The music’s dull, the lights are blinding, the customers’ annoying. It’s not the same without Trent and Storm there and I’m miserable. I can’t even force a smile while concentrating. I know Storm will be back in a few days. Trent though, I feel his absence like a knife in the center of my back. It’s painful, I can’t reach it to pull it out, and I’m sure it will be my demise if it stays as is.
Trent being gone eats at me all week. It makes me grouchy and snappy and generally unpleasant to be around. I’m well aware of it, and I don’t care. It makes me start fights with Livie on my one night off over what to watch on television. It makes her start to cry and call me a bitch. Livie never does that. It makes me lurk through the commons every night, casting furtive glances at 1D. The end result is the same. Darkness. Where ever he went, Trent’s not back.
What if he’s never coming back?
***
Day Five.
I scream in horror as I watch my parents’ Audi sink into the river, my eyes locked on the person trapped behind the wheel.
Trent.
I’m a sweaty tangled mess in my sheets when I come to, gasping. It was just a dream! Oh, Thank God! It takes me a good fifteen minutes to shake the image scalding my mind. Only now I can’t shake the idea. What if Trent did get into an accident? No one would call me. I’m nobody. I haven’t had a chance to be anybody yet.
I harass Storm to give me Dan’s number. Then I harass him to check the police reports of a ‘Trent Emerson’ in an accident. He tells me he can’t abuse his position like that. I snap and slam my phone against the counter. Then I call him back and apologize, and he concedes to bring his laptop so I can search the news, the obits. Anything.
It’s well into the night before I accept that Trent is probably alive and well. He’s just not with me.
***
Day Nine.
Wandering past Trent’s apartment door on my way to the gym, I freeze. I’m sure I just caught a whiff of something funky.
Ohmigod.
Trent’s dead.
I run to Tanner’s door and hammer on it until it flies open. Tanner’s standing there with his standard Batman pajama pants and deer-caught-in-the-headlight eyes. “Come on!” I grab his arm and yank him out. “You need to open 1D right now!”
Tanner uses his weight to resist me. “Wait a minute. I can’t just open—”
“I think Trent’s dead!” I shriek.