The Wicked Garden (20 page)

“What are you doing here, Eli? He’s going to kill you.”

“Let him try.”

He stared into her bloodshot eyes, and Eli could see the pain of a million lifetimes swimming in the tears that were about to fall. “I miss you, Eli. I love you, and I’m sorry, but this is over.
We’re
over.”

“Don’t tell me that.”

“It’s too complicated. I’m stuck and I can’t get out.”

“Yes, you can. All you have to do is take my hand and we’ll walk away right now. Together,” he said, putting his hand on her face.

“Things have changed, Eli. If I walk away from him he’ll hurt me again, and.... I’m... he...” Gretchel choked back a sob. “I’m pregnant, Eli. I was pregnant all summer and didn’t know. I can’t risk him hurting the baby,” she began to cry. “I can’t lose another baby. I just can’t.”

Eli couldn’t breathe. Gretchel was pregnant. She was pregnant with Troy’s baby.

Gretchel blew out a tense sigh and the smell of the alcohol hit Eli like a fist.

“You’re pregnant, and you’re drinking?” he said through gritted teeth. “Are you crazy? If Troy doesn’t kill the baby, you will. Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

Her tears came faster, and Eli’s eyes began to water as well.

“I can’t stop. I need it. Besides you, it’s the only thing that makes the pain go away,” she cried. “Save me, Eli. Save me from Troy and save me from myself. Be my hero, Eli.”

Eli was about to pull Gretchel into an embrace when he saw a look of terror on her face. He heard his name being called, and as he turned around, a sucker punch sent him straight to the ground. Several men, including Troy, were gazing down at him. Eli tried to get up, but Troy kicked him in the face.

He caught a glimpse of Will throwing punches before he had to dodge another kick from Troy.

“Somebody help him!” Gretchel screamed out into the crowd. Then Teddy appeared from nowhere. His fist barely connected, but it was enough to throw Troy off balance. Eli just avoided another shoe to the head, and grabbed at Troy’s feet. He pulled him down, but it didn’t take long for Troy’s friends to incapacitate Eli.

Teddy pulled Gretchel aside, away from the melee. A couple of guys were holding Will back, though he fought as hard as he could to free himself. Eli was still being held down as Troy proceeded to beat him ruthlessly.

Within moments, cop cars were sounding off, and then an ambulance. “No!” Gretchel screamed and clutched her head in agony. Teddy was still holding her, trying to cover her ears.

Troy’s friends had scattered. Will was kneeling beside Eli, who, in the worst pain he’d ever felt in his life, rolled his head around on the ground and saw Gretchel screaming for him, and trying to fight off Troy. Teddy tried to push him away, but Troy shoved him to the ground. Eli could only watch as Troy grabbed Gretchel by the back of the neck and directed her down the sidewalk. Eli flipped himself over, and tried to claw his way after them, but the paramedics interrupted his pathetic rescue mission, and the fight was over only moments after it had begun.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Irvine, 2010s

It was Ame’s first afternoon off in forever, and where did she decide to go? Work, of course. She could live without a lot of things, but Internet access was not one of them. She had a term paper due the following week, and she needed the net’s infinite resources. So, to the bookstore she went.

Even though it was the weekend, Ame had been up for hours by the time she packed up her laptop and headed out. She was an early riser like her mother. She cherished the calm and the quiet. In the morning, Ame had time to be still. She had time to pray to the Wild Mother and her beloved Horned God. After praying, she knew without a doubt that she would not make the same mistakes her mother had.

Those moments of serenity were a necessary relief from the rest of her day. Ame was a seriously overbooked teenager. There was school, where she took honor classes in everything. She worked at the bookstore Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Volleyball practice was Tuesdays and Thursdays, with tournaments every other Saturday and Sunday. And, when she wasn’t at a tournament, she was on college volleyball recruitment trips with Teddy and Marcus.

During Ame’s job interview, Claire had raised a dark, perfectly-shaped eyebrow when Ame described her volleyball schedule. “You must be quite passionate about your sport to devote so much time to it.”

Usually, Ame faked the role of a die-hard team-player, but, for some reason, she felt like she could be—or
had
to be—honest with Claire. “I’m six-foot-three and freakishly athletic. I was born to play volleyball, and I’m going to need a scholarship if I want to go to college.”

Troy had never wanted her to succeed at anything, and her mother was naïve to think that he would help a daughter he loathed. Even before the revelation about her drained college fund, Ame had known that she was essentially on her own. She had always known that.

“Well, Ame, what
are
you passionate about? What do you want?”

Once again, she felt compelled to tell Claire the truth. “I want to work on the family farm and grow a garden with my mother and can the vegetables we grow. I want to ride my horse. I want to dance under the moonlight. I want time to read and write and just think. I want to learn the old ways—everything my grandmother and my great-grandmother can teach me, but I think there’s a lot I need to learn on my own, too. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I want this job.”

Claire had found this answer satisfactory, and she had been pleased with Ame’s work, which is why Ame was free to make use of the store’s Wi-Fi connection on her day off.

Ame was thinking back to everything she had told Claire at her job interview as she pulled a thermos of coffee and her decrepit laptop from her backpack and settled into the Barcelona chair in the back office. The move from the house to the cottage would definitely help her achieve some of her goals, but she couldn’t slack off on school or volleyball. College was a must. She was never going to be dependent on a man like her mother had been, and she was never going to be any man’s victim. She had met the predator in her dreams, but she refused to be his prey.

She sighed. Even if she were living at Snyder Farms, she probably wouldn’t have much time to take advantage of it. She hadn’t even been able to find time to see Peyton for a couple of weeks. She barely had time to respond to his texts and messages. She definitely wasn’t going to find time to dance under the moonlight.

Peyton. He was a sweet guy. Smart. Strong. Incredibly hot. She had met him on a trip to SIU. Ame gave herself a minute to check out his Facebook profile before she got down to research.

She noticed that she had nine messages waiting for her on Facebook. She smiled, until she realized that they were all from Eli. Before she had a chance to look at them, there he was, ready to chat.

Ame. Please forgive me for being such a pest. How is your mother?

Hi Eli with an I. Wow. Jeez. Sry I haven’t been online. My dad left us in a bit of a financial mess when he kicked it. No internet access. We had to move to a little cottage on my great grand mama’s property. I love it; my brother hates it. Mom is losing touch w/ reality & it’s all just a big f’ing mess.

The cottage will be good for her. How is she behaving?

She talks 2 herself a lot & dnt even get me started on the nightmares. I haven’t had a decent nite sleep in almost 2 months. Have u been 2 the cottage?

Yes, I’ve been to the cottage. When I met her she was having nightmares quite often. You make it sound as if it’s something new.

I’ve never known her 2 have nightmares. It started New Year’s Eve, the nite before my dad died.

What the hell?
Eli thought.

Does she need money? Please be honest with me.

Well of course she needs money. She's not working.

I can send you whatever you need.

              Ame sat back, sipped at her coffee, and considered this new information. This guy was too good to be true, and Ame knew that anything too good to be true was almost certainly a lie.

What’s your motive Eli with an I? What exactly r u tryin 2 do here?

I just want to ease her burden. I can send you a couple grand to start.

We’ll talk college another time. It would be my honor to finance your education, anywhere you want to go.

U don’t even know me. Why did u and my mom break up? What happened that she chose a d-bag like my dad over u?

             
She waited for an answer. She waited a long time. Finally a response popped up on the screen.

She was pregnant with another man’s child. That child was you. I had every intention of raising you as my own. Things got very complicated. That’s all I can say.

              Ame was perfectly still, her mouth wide open, a mug of coffee in one hand, the other hand resting on the keyboard. She looked like a sculpture of the Great Coffee Bean Goddess of the Twenty-first Century. She was contemplating what her life might have been like if she had been raised by a father who wanted her, a father who loved her.

Give me ur phone #. I can’t take ur money, but I do want to kno more.

DON’T TELL HER WE’RE TALKING!

What r u afraid of Eli with an I? My dad’s dead.

It’s complicated Ame with an E.

Look I have to meet my family for dinner in an hour & do research on a term paper b4 then, but ur going 2 start explaining things or I WILL go 2 her.

Give me a mailing address and your phone number, and I’ll tell you what I can.

∞

              Ame couldn’t concentrate on her research. She gave up, and drove to the local Mexican restaurant to wait for dinner. She was sitting on a bench out front when her phone chirped. It was a text from Eli. He was sending a package—next day air—to the cottage.

“If he turns out to be an ax murderer, I’m fucked,” she mumbled. She didn’t have time to respond to his text, before she saw her uncle Marcus walking across the parking lot.

“Are the grandwitches bringing Mom?” she asked.

“Yeah. Cindy and Holly are picking up Zach. They’ll all be here shortly,” he said. He sat down and put an arm around her cold shoulders. “How’s it going?” he asked.

“Okay,” she shrugged. “I’m just really busy. I feel like I should be spending more time with Mom. Zach’s been staying at the Browns’ every night because of her nightmares. I just feel like we leave her alone too much."

“Those damn nightmares. I thought they were over,” Marcus said under his breath.

“What do you mean by that?”

“She used to have them all the time when she was younger. Post-traumatic stress,” he explained.

“Why don’t I know any of this?” she asked. “Do you think Dad dying set her off again?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it happened a little before then. She’s had a hard life, Ame. If she starts acting strange—and you’ll know what I mean when you see it—please tell me. It’s absolutely crucial that you tell me.”

“What happened to her, Uncle M? I know your dad was killed in the truck accident and Mama was in the truck when it happened. No one ever talks about it, though. What happened and why is it a big secret?”

“It’s a long story, and I’m not at liberty to elaborate.”

“You know I haven’t had the easiest life either, but I’m not insane because of it.”

“No one said you’ve had it easy. We all tried to get your mom away from Troy. Hell, I spent a week in jail when you were just a baby, because he beat your mom up and then I proceeded to beat the shit out of him. But she never left him. We tried, Ame, but you cannot help somebody who doesn’t want to be helped. She blames herself for things that are beyond her control.” Marcus thought for a moment, deciding what to say next. “She doesn’t like herself all that much, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Ame nodded. She’d noticed.

“Did you know an Eli?” she asked.

A shocked expression erupted on Marcus’s face, then he eyeballed his niece suspiciously. “How do you know about Eli?”

“Long story, and I’m not at liberty to elaborate,” she smirked. “Was he a nice guy?”

“He was a great guy. He was the best thing that ever happened to Baby Girl.”

“He was a
happening?
Why didn’t they stay together?”

“Troy. He manipulated and controlled your mother. She was in love with Eli, and he was good to her.”

“That just doesn’t make any sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?” Gretchel asked. She was walking toward the restaurant with her mother, grandmother, and assorted relations.

Miss Poni gave her great-granddaughter a sly grin, as if she could read the girl’s mind.

“Nothing,” Ame said. She sighed and Marcus rubbed her back again.

“Well, are you coming?” Gretchel asked.

Ame glared at her mother. “No, I’m just breathing hard.”

Marcus turned his head and spewed out uncontrollable chuckles.

Gretchel just shook her head. “Shameful. Let’s go, birthday girl.”