Roar (29 page)

I don’t know what I’m doing until I get to the one room I shouldn’t enter. In the corner is a hole in the floor where the carpet has been pulled back, and the floorboards have been lifted. My feet take me there slowly; I’m like a zombie from fear of what I might find still in there. That’s where Charlie found the videos and the gun, and since she told Noel as much, I assume he removed any other evidence.

I stand before it, my head hanging as I bore into the hole that held our past secrets for years. I really wasn’t expecting to find anything; I thought that Noel would take it all. I was wrong.

Dropping to my knees, I reach into the dark hole; it is cooler in there, like another dimension, or maybe it’s stained with sin. My fingers wrap around the smooth photo frame and pull it free of its prison. I have to rub a small amount of dust from the glass before I realize what I’m looking at. There’s a beautiful woman that, at first glance, I think is Charlie, only it isn’t. Charlie was the baby in the arms of her mother, so sweet, so protected, so innocent.

She would want this. I put it to the side and reach in again for the last item in the hole—an old biscuit tin. I don’t understand why this is still here. Have they not been through here?

I’m scared to open it. Scared that whatever I find in there will take everything away. I fall back off my knees to my butt and will my shaking fingers to stop, but they shake anyway. I peel at the seal of the tin and after a little force it pops, the sound lost in the loud beat of drums to another rock ballad. My breath shakes as hard as my hands when I pull out a lock of Charlie’s soft hair. I hold it like it’s a delicate bird before placing it back in the tin. I then take the photo of her and me sleeping in her bed and will myself not to crush it. Her father must have come and taken it while we slept.

Was this a one-time deal?

What a fucking ridiculous thought.

A rage is building in me so violent, I’m sweating as I reach for the next item—a key. It’s small, and yet, in a psychosomatic sense, the heaviest thing I have ever held in my hand. How is it possible that such a small piece of smooth metal, that isn’t even uniquely cut and could fit at least a third of the population’s cash boxes, feel so significant.

I know it’s not the key, it’s what it signifies—more secrets, more heartbreak, more nightmares kept hidden from us, about us. I can’t let anyone find it; I can’t let
her
find it. I need to find it before it’s all too late.

I’m not myself as I throw his items out of the closet, bang against the walls inside, wondering if he had a secret room of horrors, where he would stash his cash box and other incriminating things. Then I went to his bed, ripping the bedding apart; nothing. I storm from the room and the house, heading for the truck. I didn’t see the guys stop what they were doing. I didn’t notice someone turn the stereo off. I grabbed a sledgehammer from the bed of the truck and I took it into his room, and began my search in the floor boards. He hid one box under the boards, why not another, right?

I slammed and slammed, crashed and splintered my way through his floor, until there wasn’t much left, and then I went for the air ducts. This place was and always will be a poison to us; I see that now. The best thing I could have done, was to smash it to smithereens. I could smash this whole house and I think she would forgive me. I could demolish it and build her the dream home we envisioned up under our tree. We could have that dream if we destroyed this shell of fears and demons.

I don’t know what possessed me. No, that’s a lie. I know what possessed me to start swinging the hammer at everything in sight. I was going to bring this place down, and with it, bring us a proper fresh start. She would be proud, and she will love me for it. I can finally be her hero.

My chest hurts, my shoulders hurt and I’m drenched within minutes when I feel a tourniquet around my whole body so tight, it’s hard to breath.

“Boss, stop. You gotta settle down before you hurt yourself.”

Why are they stopping me? Don’t they want me to be happy, to bring her happiness? I won’t have them stop me from giving her peace. I fight against the hold on me, the restraints against her happiness. I fight so hard, until I’m crushed to the floor and the rush of yelling and cusses fill my ears against the rush of my blood pounding in my bound body.

“Boss, you gotta stop!” I don’t know who’s pleading with me. I hear words from everyone. As I start to come back from the red rage and devastation of what I can’t do for the woman I love. It takes four burly men, who’ve seen more fights in their time than most, to bring me back to reality and that knowledge. Once I stop fighting, so do they, and soon enough the weight begins to lift and it gets easier to breathe. That is until I see the damage I’ve done around the room.

This place will never let us go. We need to let it go.

“Boys, call Connor and tell him to bring Charlie here. Miles, go get the Dumbo.”

I’m going to free us both forever.

PAUL’S FUNERAL WILL BE
in two days. Nate and Sheriff Noel thought I should leave the arrangements for the state because he didn’t deserve anything more, but I couldn’t do that. If he had family, I would have left it for them, but he didn’t. Paul was alone, just like me; he grew up without love, so never understood how to properly. I’m not saying that’s an excuse, but I understand it. A funeral is me placing closure on my story with him; it is as much for Paul as it is for me.

My bank account is active once more, and I have more funds due to Paul’s investments. I had no idea about those until Mr. Millard told me. Everything that was once Paul’s went to me. I now had enough funds behind me that I could buy a new house, make a new home from walls that didn’t hold a bloody history as mine did. I’m so excited by this, that I had actually started searching the real estate in the area on the web when the door burst open again.

“Jesus, Nate. Stop—” That’s not Nathan.

“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m Connor. Nathan should have told you about me, right?”

“He did, you just startled me.”

“Sorry. Nathan wants me to bring you to the house.”

That wasn’t the plan. “I thought he was going to come and get me himself.”

“Would you like to give him a call? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Now I feel terrible, worse than terrible. These guys have come here for a fresh start where they aren’t judged for the past mistakes. They work hard at making a new life for themselves so other will look at them for the person they are now, and not who they once were in a moment of weakness or circumstance. We are all victims to circumstances in some way. I could very well be one of them had I killed Paul, like I planned.

Nate would be disappointed in me if he knew how much I’ve taken what we have been through for granted.

“Let’s get a move on then, Connor,” I say with a smile to try and right the tension I made. “Wouldn’t want to keep the man waiting, would we?”

Connor sighs in relief, but I can tell he isn’t all too comfortable with me, and I don’t blame him; I’m a risk. I haven’t been the stable member of the community that people could trust. I guess I’m getting my just desserts.

I follow him from the office, squinting against the sun, kicking orange dust into the air. Today would be a great day for a swim at the lake, like we did as kids. I actually can’t wait to do some of the normal stuff with Nate. We have been surrounded in so much drama, it would be nice to have some normality to our relationship. Come to think of it… we never had normality. There has always been something dark shadowing us, haunting our futures. For the first time in my life, I think and feel like we are free to love in the warmth of our dreams.

Connor opens the truck door for me, I thank him before hopping in and watching as he follows onto the driver’s side. No matter how much I try, it still feels uncomfortable and I think
that
might actually be normal. It’s actually exciting to feel all these normal feelings and welcome them. I feel like a newborn in a world that’s ready for my life to begin, and I love it.

The only way I will be able to get past the uncomfortable feeling that strangers have, is to no longer be strangers. For the first time, I will be opening myself up to get to know a stranger, to know what happens to him past the point of the immediate, which is what I have conditioned myself to over the years of nursing.

“Connor, tell me if I’m being intrusive here, because I’m not very good at this, okay?”

He starts the truck up and looks at me, his eyes kind. “You and me both.”

Ha, I guess so. “I have the social skills of an ex-con.” I gasp right after the words vomit from my mouth. “I’m so sorry. That was so insensitive of me.”

Connor chuckles and shakes his head. “Don’t sweat it. You’re doing fine.”

I’m too scared now, my mouth and brain aren’t communicating and I’m screwing up this whole “conversation, getting to know someone” thing.

“Look, Charlie. Can I call you that?”

I nod.

He smiles larger and nods before putting the truck in gear, and slowly leaving the yard. “The thing is, I see the ex-con in you, so it doesn’t surprise me that you find it hard to make conversation.”

“I’m an ex-con?”

“What I mean is, you have been a prisoner of sorts for a very long time. There are traits we all show that are like neon lights. I thought of you as a wounded animal before, and I don’t doubt you once were. But now that you’re free from your, excuse me for being blunt,
abuser
”—I cringe at the word and he busies himself with his driving as he continues, and I listen intently. “You’re now free from that. The thing is, an abused animal will be flighty, not trusting anyone, and maybe lash out. I think you were very close to that. But now, you are in the ex-con stage.”

There’s a pregnant silence between us as I think through the knowledge Connor is sharing with me. I feel like he is an uncle, twice removed or something, trying to pass on his years of wisdom. It’s a privilege, and I listen intently because there’s something that’s reaching deep in my soul and urging it to open up.

“An ex-con will never really shake what’s happened to him to get him in prison, and then the time he spends there, but once free he or she learns and relishes in the smaller things in life that were denied to them once. The normal become the most precious commodity to life. Unfortunately, with this freedom, comes small things that make it hard for us to blend and make normal conversation.” He winks and smiles. “Not all of us come out so well; these difficulties make it hard to move on in life, and they fall into old habits. I don’t want you to fall into old habits, Charlie. I can see you have been through more than many put together, but you’re a fighter, Nathan is a fighter and together I know you will get through it if you don’t give up trying for the normal.”

I don’t know when it happened, but I have tears trailing into the corner of my smile, the saltiness dipping into my mouth, alerting me that I am leaking. I swipe at my cheeks with the warmest feeling inside me for Connor, for Nate, and my future built on striving for normal.

“Connor, when we pull over, I’m going to hug you.”

He glances at me and smiles. “Fine, but don’t be making a habit of that, or we might start rumors.”

“But that’s normal. Aren’t we striving for normal?”

We both chuckle and actually begin to make small talk for the last few minutes of the drive, right up until we take the corner and see three trucks and one big, monstrous crane looking machine with a weird ball hanging from the long arm. In bold, bright, yellow writing, the word Dumbo is written just above Shaw Construction.

“Oh. My. God!” I breathe.

“Holy shit.” Connor slows right down as we take in the information our eyes are conveying. “Charlie, did I mention that ex-cons also might jump to conclusions for the worst?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Give Nathan a chance to explain.” He pulls to the curb behind the last of the trucks. I prepare my body to race up and find Nate, ask him to explain what he thinks he is doing, but my body isn’t listening. I slide from my seat and don’t even shut the door as I stroll and gaze at the machine I’m sure is there to demolish my man-made-hell.

Nate rushes to my side as I stare start-struck at the yellow ball hanging from a cable and hook. “Babe, I know this is a shock, but I think you’re going to love what I have planned.”

“Do it,” I say automatically. I don’t think of the reasons or consequences. I just want to see those peeling, white walls crumble.

“What?”

“Do it. Destroy it once and for all. Give us the final freedom we deserve.”

Nate grabs my cheeks and repeatedly kisses my lips, nose and entire face. “I’m going to build us a new house, the house we dreamed about, and we will fill it with love and children and grandchildren.”

I finally drag my eyes from the yellow ball and look into his eyes that glimmer with joy and love for me. I’m the luckiest woman in the world. “Nate, will you marry me?”

“Don’t ask me that? Not that! Not under a wrecking ball.” His eyes are wide and panicked.