Black Escape Page 20

  “Kendra—”

  I paused mid-step without looking.

  “Take care of yourself.”

  I closed my eyes, feeling the lump harden in my throat. I didn’t slam the door shut like I should have. Instead, I pushed it just hard enough to hear it click shut, thinking that Lucky’s last words made it sound like I would never see him again.

  I was sad, relieved, a mixed bag of emotions that seemed to be my new normal.

  My muscles were weak, my breathing shallow.

  I entered my building with a low-hanging head. Staring at the floor in front of me, I barely heard Mr. Anderson greeting me. “Ms. Williams,” he skirted around his desk, rushing to me, “are you all right?”

  “Why does everyone keep asking me that? No, I’m not fucking all right.”

  He pulled back. His bushy brows knitted. I immediately regretted my words.

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  He shook his head. “Apology accepted.”

  “Look, I’m just exhausted and in need of a shower.”

  “Before you go, you have a letter.”

  My shoulders fell forward as my spine slouched. I watched Mr. Anderson hurry to dig it out from under his desk. Extending his arm, I took it between my fingertips. I left for the elevators without saying another word. Once inside, I opened the letter.

  What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.

  It wasn’t signed but I knew it was a reminder coming from Madam. I wished I’d asked Mr. Anderson when it arrived because something told me that it was sent with hopes of me finding it sooner than I did.

  The elevator clacked and slowed to a stop. I stepped out onto my floor to sounds of silence. Each step closer to the door was harder than the last. I opened my apartment door, feeling relief wash over me.

  I had made it. Back in one piece, though shattered into a million. I was alive but questioned why I should be.

  Kicking my shoes off, I dropped my purse at the kitchen table. Turning my head to the living room, my heart stopped.

  There, on the coffee table, was a beautifully wrapped package. The sharp angled, pure white box tied with a cherry red bow had Madam’s signature all over it. How did she do it?

  Then again, both Sylvia and Oscar proved how easy it was to get inside my apartment without me knowing. Why not her, too?

  I padded cautiously over the floor.

  Lowering myself onto the couch, I stared at it for far longer than I normally would have. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was inside. The card wasn’t a date card but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t expect to be treated as such. Madam would be brazen enough to do it.

  Finally, I lunged forward and tore it open like a present on Christmas morning. Flinging the top off, a spring popped in my face, shooting feathers high into the air. I fell back with my pulse racing. The feathers floated down, landing everywhere. A white toy dove rocked inside the box back and forth on its spring. Attached to it, a note said, “You can’t fly away from this.”

  43

  Kelly

  A grave expression fell over my face.

  Nothing Kendra did hurt more than when she turned her back and left me with more questions than answers. I felt useless—swimming in a deep desire to be alone but wanting to be with her at the same time. The irony.

  Her words sliced like a sword through my heart.

  My stance remained stiff and frozen to the ground as I watched Kendra from behind, pick up her pace and soon disappear around the next bend.

  I wanted to chase—should have chased—but instead I just stood there, bleeding out with a heavy weight being draped around my shoulders. Shoving a hand through my hair, I turned and headed back to my car with my chin down, her words still ringing between my ears: It’s too dangerous to be with you.

  A sense of loss tightened around my chest. I closed my eyes, stifling the instinct to gasp for air. Black spots flashed behind my lids. I continued to hold my breath. All I could think about was how I was the common denominator.

  Patrick. Nora. Mario. Kendra.

  I had let them all down. Made promises I couldn’t keep. Three out of four were dead. Though our hearts still beat, Kendra and I might as well be dead, too. Because a look inside would reveal we had nothing left—empty, hollowed out, used goods too damaged to reuse or repair.

  My family was gone, along with my sense of purpose.

  And, worse, Oscar had raped my Bella, the woman who I had made my everything.

  Tears welled in the corners of my eyes. I blinked with disbelief. Then I punched the center of the steering wheel, screaming out the frustration building inside of me. Again and again my knuckles jabbed the leather, burning with heat until the skin broke and I began to bleed.

  I continued to scream until my lungs gave. With my vocal chords scratchy and sore, my chest heaved as I breathed heavily through my nose. Things were much worse than I’d imagined. I knew it was fucked up what Madam and Oscar were throwing at us, but I had no idea they would take it as far as they had.

  Another round of punches and a few more screams, then suddenly, it made sense. The way Kendra had been acting. Her rollercoaster of ups and downs, seeming to support my decisions one minute, then sharing a glimmer of doubt a second later. Madam broke her down physically but Oscar violated her intimacy, a place he knew was reserved specifically for me.

  Holding my clenched stomach with one hand, I wiped my runny nose with the back of my other. I didn’t know what to do, only that I needed to find a way to make it up to her. I had let her down, more than I could imagine.

  My eyelids hooded, forming sharp slits. A dark tunnel closed around my vision. Each beat of my heart gained strength as I lunged for the glovebox. Once it fell open, my jaw unhinged.

  I searched. Reaching around inside, peering closer, realizing it was gone.

  “Kendra, what did you do?” I whispered to myself, remembering her close up her purse after the cops had left. It was then I knew that I couldn’t let her go. I was certain she had the same idea as I did. Either she was going to kill herself or would go after Oscar and make sure he never did anything like what he did to her again.

  Starting the car, I drove looking for Kendra. Following the same street I saw her disappear down, I quickly realized she was gone. I kept looking. Circling back, weaving up and down streets knowing she couldn’t have gotten far on foot.

  With a knotted belly, I wished I’d fought harder. I regretted listening to her threats that I was the same as the cops. I knew she didn’t mean it. I was there. An easy target to lash out at. But if something happened to her—

  I stopped myself mid-thought. Something already did happen to her. And that’s why she’s not with you now, asshole. The truth was too much to bear.

  I drove, patrolling the area until the sky went dark. Then I pulled to the side of a quiet residential street to decide what to do next. Reaching for my phone, I didn’t have Kendra’s new number. I called Giselle instead. She didn’t answer so I left a message. “Hey. It’s me. Kendra left. I was hoping you had her new number. Hit me back as soon as you get this.”

  I wrapped my fingers around my cell and squeezed.

  Kendra was right from the get-go. There was only one way to end this. Even if it meant me pleading guilty to a crime I’d knowingly committed. I needed to make the sacrifice. It was best for us all. I needed to retrieve the files I had on Oscar and hand them over to the mayor.

  Driving away from the neighborhood—knowing I was leaving Kendra behind—was about the hardest thing I had ever done. She was vulnerable and in a state of distrust. Even the people who were sworn to protect and serve couldn’t be counted on. Alone, I hoped that she knew what she was doing, and that I was thinking of her, wanting her to come home.

  Street lights flickered. The highways, a river of white and red. The sounds of silence kept me tense. The mayor was the only option I had. I could only hope that he saw past the lies and knew, deep down, that I didn’t know where Sylvia was.

&
nbsp; As soon as I pulled up to my main residence, my mind was triggered to a memory from the past. With wine in our system, Nora giggled the entire ride home. Patrick was with a sitter. We walked hand in hand to the front door. She turned around before entering, wrapping her arms around me. Kissing me, she told me how badly she needed to make love.

  I stared at that same doorway, scrubbing a hand over my face.

  That feeling I had with Nora was the same blast of fireworks I felt when I was with Kendra. I’d known she was special and someone I wanted to be with from the very beginning. It didn’t matter how we’d met, only that we stayed together because we both felt that lightness that came with being madly in love.

  Opening my door, I stepped outside and took a moment to listen.

  The windows were dark, opaque, and things were exactly as I’d left them earlier today. Though I still wasn’t certain who was here snooping around when Kendra was alone, I was convinced it was someone sent by Oscar.

  Unlocking the front door, I thought how we should have just stayed here tonight. Maybe none of what happened this evening would have occurred and Kendra wouldn’t be doubting everyone she knew.

  As soon as I flicked on the house lights, Nora’s eyes were on me. Each perfectly framed image following each of my steps. I watched her smile grow as I felt her distant judgement nudge me forward, telling me this was all my fault.

  I glanced out of the corner of my eye.

  Hers glimmered back.

  I moved to the stairs and her pursed lips curved slightly higher.

  Inside I burst. I couldn’t take it anymore. Stripping a picture of my wife off the wall, I tossed it like a Frisbee across the room. Then I went for another, flinging it over the railing and watching the glass shatter. Again, I cleared another photo off the wall, tossing it harder. It exploded like fireworks below, tiny detonations that left my ears ringing.

  By the time I was finished, I cursed her for being weak. “What you did was selfish,” I screamed at her face hiding behind broken glass. “You put me in a vulnerable position. Because of you, Madam swooped me up and made me the devil I am today. This is all your fault!” I continued yelling, blaming her for all the bad my life had become. “If you hadn’t killed yourself, never left me alone to grieve without a shoulder to lean on, none of this would have happened.” Taking the railing into a white-knuckled grip, I hung my head and sobbed.

  Nora continued to smirk and I felt foolish for blaming a dead person.

  I climbed the stairs and entered the master bedroom. Pulling the middle dresser drawer open, I dug the original flash-drive out from beneath a pile of clothes. I held it in my hand, turning it to find the label I’d put on it, marking it as evidence of Oscar’s corruption. When I was sure it was the right one, I knew Kendra was right—there was no reason to still be keeping this a secret.

  A sense of hope washed over me. My lungs topped off for the first time since getting pulled over. I spun around, knowing this was the right thing to do. Turning myself in, making the files known: it was what had to be done, no matter the consequence.

  On my way to the car, I stepped over Nora and told her my plans. “I’m doing it for us.” I stopped, kneeled, and took my favorite photo of her between my fingers. I stared into her lovely eyes for a while before saying, “I should have been there for you. Been the husband I promised you I would be. I wasn’t.” I swallowed hard. “And that is on me. I want you to know that. It’s important that you know that.” Something in the look she was giving me told me that I shouldn’t be doing it for her but for Kendra as well.

  Nodding, I placed her photo where I’d found it and left the house.

  I got behind the wheel, making sure to keep the flash-drive close. Suddenly, my cell phone started to ring. “Giselle, did you find anything?”

  “I did a thorough sweep of the area and I’m convinced there aren’t any cameras in the vicinity that could have caught our movements.”

  “That’s great,” I said, appreciating the long overdue piece of good news.

  “A Detective O’Brien called.”

  Pulling my brows together, my world stopped moving. “When?”

  “Just now. He wants to speak with you.”

  “Why did he call you?”

  “Called the office. It kicked over to my cell. I answered.” She paused. “You sound surprised.”

  “I am,” I said, catching Giselle up on my meeting with O’Brien without sharing Kendra’s shame in what happened to us shortly after.

  “You must have spooked him,” she said, “because it sounded urgent. Here, let me give you his number.” I imagined her hand diving into her purse.

  “Don’t bother.” I already had his card in my hand, ready to call him back. “I have it here.”

  “Let me know how I can help.”

  Thinking of my impending arrest, I ended our call by saying, “Thanks.”

  It was strange to think of O’Brien calling back so soon. It had to be something I said. I hoped that our best-case scenario was close to coming true, and the coincidence of getting pulled over was the result of Oscar and not O’Brien, despite what the officer said.

  “You called,” I said, as soon as O’Brien answered.

  “You sound haggard.”

  “So do you. I don’t have a lot of time. What do you want?”

  He lowered his voice. “I looked into the video taken from the hotel.”

  I leaned forward in my seat. “And do you know who took it?”

  “Let’s meet in person. I think you need to see it to believe it.”

  44

  Kendra

  I swept my foot off the floor and kicked the box.

  The bird flew across the room. Feathers caught flight and spiraled around me.

  For a split second, peace found me. Then, like a strike of lightening, it was gone. Darkness clouded my head and squeezed the life out of me. I wanted to die.

  Snapping my arms down by my sides—my elbows hyper-extending—I balled my hands into fists and tossed my head back, screaming out every last ounce of air I held inside my lungs.

  My muscles strained as I flexed.

  I continued to yell.

  The walls shook. The window glass threatened to shatter. My head went dizzy.

  Leaping over the couch, I ran to my purse, diving for the gun. One touch and stars flashed. Quickly, my fingers opened and I watched it fall back to the table with a loud thump.

  I started to hyperventilate. With wide, unblinking eyes, I stared at the gun, fearing I didn’t have it in me to go through with killing myself. Except it was the only way out. The only option I saw left—the chance to finally end the immense suffering that consumed so much of my life.

  I turned to the kitchen.

  My heart pounded as I reached for an opened bottle of vodka. Twisting off the cap, I heard it bounce off the floor as I tossed the bottle back. The liquid bubbled up as I opened up my throat, willing myself to ingest enough poison to make me sick.

  Nothing was as it seemed. Every step of the way, a reminder that I couldn’t trust anyone. My parents had let me down long ago, and now even someone as innocent as Lucky seemed to be compromised.

  A deep desire for vengeance swished around in my belly.

  What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.

  More vodka. More squished faces. A tremendous need to vomit.

  The betrayal. The persistence to destroy my entire foundation. I didn’t see a way out of this one without putting a bullet in a place to guarantee Lights Out. Madam had gotten to my head. Oscar between my legs. And, because of them, I pushed the one man I truly cared about away.

  Finally, I pulled the bottle away from my lips, falling forward.

  Coughing, my mouth and throat burned. I heaved, gagging on the liquid that threatened to come back up. Pulling my hair back on my head, I stood, expecting to have found Kelly here.

  “Why aren’t you here?” I said to an empty room. My voice sounding weaker, pathetic, the more my
thoughts took control of the situation.

  Feeling lightheaded, I suddenly burped, swallowing down the fire that needed to stay in my belly. Grinding my teeth, I was angry that Kelly didn’t think to find me here. Every conversation today felt like my last.

  My mind was unable to keep up with my body. Soon, I paced back to the table, reaching again for the gun. This time I was stronger—had more resentment and reason to get back at Kelly for what he’d done to me. With this, I could show him that this was his fault—make him live with another regret for the rest of his days.

  Feeling my blood slow inside my veins, I lifted the heavy weapon into the air. Bending my elbow, I breathed in just before tucking the muzzle under my chin.

  Closing my eyes, I began to cry.

  1…2… I held my breath—my heart beating in an eerily even rhythm inside my ears.

  3.

  I squeezed the trigger and felt my eyes pop.

  45

  Kendra

  I blinked and glanced to my cell phone.

  It flitted around on the table, vibrating loudly with an incoming call.

  “No, you can’t do this to me,” I cried, pressing the muzzle harder between my jaw bones.

  The phone rang louder and louder. The tears streaming thicker and thicker.

  Inside, I felt empty, dull, yet confident I had it in me to go through with this. I knew it had to be done. End this. End me so that others could start fresh.

  The phone rang unusually long. It never gave up as if whoever was calling knew what I was attempting to do. My finger still wrapped tightly around the trigger, squeezing but unable to pass the point of hearing it fire. Finally, I gave. “What?” I answered.

  “Kendra, I’m here.” Alex’s voice shined bright. “I’m here for you,” she breathed.

  The floodgates opened and an overwhelming sense of regret flooded into all the hollow places. My heartrate spiked to a dangerous level. Falling forward, I wailed into the phone, watching my tears pool on the floor.