Heart Of Marley (34 page)

I pulled away from Doug and walked up to Cam.

“Congratulations, Marley Jane,” he said, embracing me. “Feel better?”

I nodded. “Much. I feel…free.”

“Good. Are you prepared for the backlash?”

I shrugged. “I guess. Nothing I can do to stop it now. The damage has been done. But no matter what Aunt Terryn says, it was completely worth it.”

“I’m glad.”

“On that note, I really don’t want to drive home with her. She’ll sit in the car and scream at me. I don’t think it’ll be so bad if I just see her at the house, especially if Meg and Jules are around. Do you think you can have Bri or Doug drive you and I’ll take the Jeep home? I was so focused on what I had to do today that I never thought of an exit strategy.”

“I can go with Bri. We were planning on heading to her mom’s house to sit by the pool for a few hours this afternoon before the ball, anyway.”

I winked. “Sure you are. I’m sure the only thing you’ll be doing is lying by the pool.”

He thrust the keys into my hands. “See you later, Marley.”

“Use a condom, Cam.”

“What time should I pick you up tonight?” Doug asked as I turned away from my brother.

“Eight? That’ll give me time to either smooth things over with my aunt, or enough time that you’ll be able to smell a rotting body.”

He placed a kiss on my lips. “Just remember that you’re a strong girl, and no matter what, you did a good thing today.”

“Thanks, Doug. See you in a few hours.”

He grabbed my hand and feathered his lips across it. “I look forward to it.”

I spun around and retreated to the green room, taking my time gathering all my stuff. I had no desire to hurry home, knowing that the only thing waiting for me there was an indignant aunt. Part of me thought about hiding out at the country club for the rest of the day before the ball that evening. I just hoped that she saw today as what it was supposed to be…not a personal attack on her, but on the stereotypes and misconceived notions that have been doing more harm than good over the past several years, if not longer.

“Are you coming, Marley?” Carla asked as she and Kristen were carrying their stuff out of the room.

I looked around and noticed I was the last one there. I glanced at my area and I had barely made a dent in the mess in front of me. “I’ll be along. See you tonight.”

“Okay,” Kristen said. “And congrats.”

“Thank you.” I heard the door close and I returned my attention to all my makeup scattered over the vanity. As I was packing up my kit, I heard the door open once more. The room went dark and a loud click sounded as if someone was locking the door.

“Hey!” I called out. “I’m still in here. I just need two more minutes and then I’ll be gone.”

I cautiously raised myself off my stool and tried to maneuver through the pitch black room. Suddenly, I felt two hands grab me and push me, face first, to the ground.

“
Get off me
!” I screamed, fighting against the figure that had me pinned. “
Help
!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, my body writhing as my chest began to rise and fall in an uneven pattern.

“It’s useless, Marley,” a familiar voice crooned, the heat of his breath torturing my neck. “They’re all gone,” he murmured. “There’s no one to hear you. There’s no one to help you. There’s no way out.”

He ran his hand down my leg, ripping the slit of my dress. A tear fell down my cheek. I cringed when I felt his tongue on my face.

“I love the taste of tears. Each one is different. Tears of joy taste different than tears of sorrow. But my favorite are tears of fear. Call it an addiction.”

“Why?” I closed my eyes, wanting to wake up and it all be a dream. It had to be. There was no way this could be happening.

“Have you ever wanted something you know is wrong? That you know is off limits, but you go for it anyway?” he asked, his husky voice growing agitated and neurotic. “It’s a rush.” His body quivered on top of me. “I’ve tried to stop, but I can’t! Nothing works! It’s no longer a choice for me! There are demons inside me and the only way to keep them at bay is to succumb to them when the urge strikes. I’ve had my eyes on you all year… Well, the past few years to be honest, but something or someone always got in the way. Not today.”

I took a deep breath as I felt his hand roam my leg toward my inner thigh. I tried to refrain from crying, not wanting the sick fuck to get off on my fear anymore.

“You could get help,” I whimpered.

“I have. I’ve tried everything. No amount of therapy has worked. Well, no traditional therapy has. I have a new form of therapy…”

I gasped. “Brianna…”

“You always were a smart girl, weren’t you?” He grunted and I screamed out.

“Please, stop,” I begged, but it was useless. No matter what I said, he continued his assault, ignoring my cries. The harder I sobbed, the more he got off.

At that moment, I realized that the world was a cruel place. I was fooling myself to think that I could shed my past and only look toward my future. The past will always torment you, mocking you, shouting at you that you’re weak. You’re powerless to forget it. You’re ignorant to think that you can move on from it.

I tried to shut it out and pretend it wasn’t happening, but the pain was excruciating. Nothing could make it stop. Even when he was finished destroying my very existence over and over again, an existence that took me nearly seven years from which to come back, the pain only intensified.

Finally, I no longer felt his weight on me, and all I could do was curl up in a ball and pray for death. In death, I could finally find peace. There was no peace for me here.

As I lay on the ground, my body trembling, he pulled me up, tearing the arm of my dress, and walked me through the room. Opening the door, he scanned the hallway and ushered me out the back, handing me my bags and leaving me in the alleyway with the rest of the trash.

I needed to get out of that place. I threw my bags in the dumpster and grabbed my purse, running across the parking lot toward Cam’s Jeep. Tears streamed down my face the entire drive home as the past hour replayed in my mind like a horrible movie. Parking in front of the house, it appeared lifeless. I walked inside and realized I was all alone. But there was no telling when someone would come home. I dashed up the stairs and into Cam’s room, hoping to hide out there while I attempted to pull myself together.

Closing the door, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I couldn’t even stand the sight of me. I was so sick of everything. Of looking at my face. Of being me.

Screaming, I clawed at my face with my professionally manicured nails, drawing long scratches down my cheeks, exhaling when I saw the blood trickle down. It wasn’t enough. With shaky hands, I rummaged through my purse and pulled out the mirror compact.

Sitting at Cam’s desk, I lifted up my dress and lowered the razor to my inner thigh, ignoring the blood that was still there from the assault. I couldn’t even stand to look at it. I carved over and over, but nothing worked. I etched new words on my legs, my arms, my stomach. Nothing released the pain. Nothing brought me peace.

Flipping over my hand, I stared at my wrist, wondering if I could really draw that line. As I continued to look at it, I noticed the drawer of Cam’s desk was slightly ajar. A folder caught my eye and I put down the razor. Opening the file, my chin quivered as I stared back into the eyes of the first man to ruin me. Sifting through everything, I wanted to scream.

Secrets destroy. Secrets ruin. And this secret made me feel more betrayed than I ever had in the past. Betrayed by the one person who swore he would stand by my side…who would wipe away my tears…who would help fight the demons.

Cam knew. He knew where Buck lived. He knew that my uncle, my own flesh-and-blood, was the reason that this sick fuck was out of prison. They still spoke! And often. As I flipped through all the letters, I felt as if my worst nightmare had become a reality. Then my eyes settled on a fuzzy black-and-white photo that the pedophile sent my uncle.

The rage inside grew to a fevered pitch and I knew what I had to do. I knew what would stop the pain. Cutting wasn’t working anymore. I could only think of one thing that would help. That would bring me the peace I so desperately needed.

Grabbing the photo and the map with the route that Cam had highlighted, I stormed out of his room and into the garage, opening the safe that I was told to never open unless it was an emergency.

As I sit behind the wheel of my Mustang writing this, watching
him
walk into his house with his very pregnant fiancée, I’m convinced this is an emergency.

“I’
LL
BE
BACK
IN
a half-hour or so,” I said to Brianna. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll drive your baby with care. I just want to make sure Marley’s okay.”

She stood on her tiptoes in the entryway of her mother’s stately home and placed a kiss on my lips. “I look forward to it. See you soon, Cameron.”

I bolted down the driveway and into Brianna’s Beetle, driving carefully along the coast of Myrtle Beach. Parking in front of my house, I noticed that my aunt and uncle’s car wasn’t there. I assumed they were dropping off Meg and Julianne at their grandmother’s before heading to the ball for the evening.

Just as I was getting out of Brianna’s car, Doug pulled up. “Hey,” I called out.

“Hey,” he said, meeting me. “Where’s Marley’s car? Is she here?”

“Where else would she be?” I responded, scanning the street for her red Mustang.

He nodded. “I just hope she’s okay after getting yelled at by your aunt. I know she was a bit nervous about that.”

“I’m sure she’s fine.” I entered the house and ran up the stairs, banging on her door. “Mar? Are you in there?”

No answer.

“Marley?”

Still no answer.

“Okay. I’m coming in so you better be decent.” I opened the door, surprised to see the gown she was going to wear that evening hanging in the closet. “It doesn’t even look like she’s been here. If my car wasn’t sitting out front, I wouldn’t think that she had ever come home. Her stuff from the pageant isn’t even here. Nothing is.”

I ran down the hall and into my room. Approaching my desk with the intention of calling Aunt Terryn’s mother to see if Marley had gone with my aunt and uncle to drop off the girls for some reason, my eyes fell on the photocopies I made of the file my uncle kept on Buck. “Shit,” I breathed, my mind racing as a horrible feeling settled in my gut.

Snapping to, I looked at Doug standing in my doorway, a worried expression on his face. “Go to the ball. Find my aunt and uncle. They should be there soon. Tell them to go here. I have a bad feeling.” I scribbled an address on a piece of paper and shoved it at him before running down the stairs.

“What? Why? I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not. And call Brianna for me and tell her I’m not going to make it.”

“Cam. Please. What’s going on?”

I stopped and looked at Doug, my shoulders dropping slightly. “I’ve been keeping tabs on Buck. It looks like Marley found out and now knows where he lives. I have a bad feeling that she’s over there. Maybe I’m wrong, but…I don’t know. Something feels off right now.”

“How do you know?”

“Call it my twin-sense. I just know.”

I ran out to my car and drove away from the shore toward the house that I had staked out and observed over the better part of the past year. It killed me that I hadn’t been honest with Marley from the start.

Spotting her car parked on the street, I jumped out and ran up to the house. Reaching the door, I peered into the front windows. Almost instantly, my gaze settled on a very frightened version of Buck, his body trembling. I followed his line of sight to see my darling sister…the light of my life, my other half…pointing a gun at him.

I threw open the front door, thankful that it wasn’t locked, and shouted, “Marley! No!”

She spun around and her wild eyes met mine. Tears were streaming down her face as she held on to the nine millimeter with shaking hands.

“Marley,” I said softly as I surveyed the room, noticing Buck’s fiancée crying in the corner. “Please. Put the gun down. You don’t want to do this. It’s not going to change anything. It’s not going to make you feel better.
I
didn’t feel better. I felt worse. Please.”

“No, Cam. I think it will. It will make me feel
so
much better,” she said, her voice quivering but strong at the same time. It was unlike any tone that I had ever heard come out of her mouth. She wasn’t herself. Something set her off and this girl pointing a gun at me was not my twin.

I began to examine her body, noticing that she still wore her pageant gown. It was torn at one shoulder with more ripping at the seams and the slit, exposing her leg almost all the way up to her hip. My eyes traveled the length of her leg and I saw bruising and redness in four thin strips midway up her thigh. There was even more bruising, marks, and scratches on her arms. On a few of the bruises there was a distinct crisscross pattern, as if the imprint of a ring. Her face was scratched and she had carved numerous words into her legs and arms. This Marley was completely different than the Marley I saw just a few hours ago.