HAVEN: Beards & Bondage Read online

  Liz sighs. She's pissed. “I'm going to head home. Do you need anything else?”

  “No, I’m fi—”

  “I got it from here,” Jason interrupts. Lawyers, always with the pissing contests.

  “I’m fine,” I say again. I stand and hobble a couple inches, ignoring the way Jason’s looking at my hands and my feet. Liz meets me more than halfway and hugs me.

  “Just call me if you need me, okay? I'll come right back over.”

  “I will.”

  There's a terse “see you later” with Jason and then she's gone. Some of the tension drains out of the room. It's always like this. The molecules in the air can only handle so much posturing at once. Jason comes around the couch. His blue eyes are still hard on me. He's still pissed.

  “Why didn't you call me?”

  “I just got a phone. Today. The cops have my other one in an evidence bag somewhere.”

  “Was your computer stolen too?” he snaps. Usually I'd tell him to fuck off. This time I'm quiet. I flinch.

  He’s quiet for a moment before he sighs. “I’m sorry. I'm just stressed out from work. And I was worried about you. And Miles,” he tacks on.

  You didn't even know Miles, I almost say. I just swallow instead. “I’m glad you're here, but I don't really want to talk about it right now.”

  “No, I get it. You've been through a lot. I mean, look at you. You look like you went toe to toe with a bear.”

  “Close.” His voice flashes in my ears. That sick laugh. He's telling me to keep running. It's funny to him. It's a game. He's going to catch me.

  “I know just what you need. Sit,” Jason says.

  I sit. He grabs the remotes and finds the Mets game. Once he’s situated with a glass of whiskey from the bottle he keeps above my fridge, he pulls me into his arms and tugs the blanket over me. I try to breathe.

  “I know baseball always knocks you out. Just let the sweet sounds of the third inning rock you to sleep.”

  Typically this is where I laugh, where I sarcastically thank him for being so considerate, then leave him to the game while I catch up on work emails or playfully tease his cock through his pants until he's forced to momentarily abandon the game to get me off. Tonight I just swallow and settle against his chest. There are more silent tears. He absently asks me if I'm okay, but he's screaming at the second baseman before I can answer.

  I stare at the fire escape. Eventually I fall asleep.

  Month Four

  They don’t tell you how long it can take to release a body. Or how long a federal prosecutor will take to tell you things you already know. Like how there won’t be a trial because your brother’s killer confessed and they need to extradite him to another state to stand trial for a triple murder he won’t cop to. The bureaucracy doesn’t give a shit about your feelings.

  I get Miles back though. What’s left of him. It makes more sense to bury him on the West coast. He went to college and med school in California. All his friends are there. Liz and Owen are now fast friends. Between the two of them, they inform all the people who need to be informed. Help me settle things with Miles’s apartment and his car. They find a time and a place for his memorial service. Liz does her best, but eventually I have to talk to some of the people who miss Miles, who counted on him being around. They need me to assist with their closure.

  There are awful conversations with a woman named Preeti. I have no idea who the fuck she is, but she gets my number from Liz on Facebook and she takes it personally that my brother never mentioned her to me. I’m a dick for telling her that, even though I don’t say it in such harsh terms. Preeti is his girlfriend. She thinks they were going to get married. I don’t refute that ’cause I realize that I have no way of knowing if that was true or not.

  When she meets Liz and I at the Paluma County morgue, I tell her I’m sure he misses her, whatever the fuck that even means. He’s dead. I apologize for being short on the phone. I tell her I'm sorry that Miles wasn't the one to properly introduce us. I tell her I'm sorry in general. I am. She cries all over me in the parking lot, until Liz suggest we go inside. I throw up when I finally view Miles’s body. I don’t even try to contain myself. You’re not prepared for something like a pep talk from the county’s sweetest coroner. “This is going to be difficult” does not cover it. They know it’s going to be so difficult that they have a wastebasket at the ready.

  My brother is gone. After weeks and weeks of being told to be patient. I can’t even do the weird things I’ve been dreaming of like squeezing his hand one more time or kissing his forehead and telling him I’m comforted by the fact that he’s with our parents again. I’m not looking at my brother. I’m looking at a slashed and gutted husk sutured back together again, a grotesque monster movie version of what my brother used to be. The pain rises in my chest again. The crashing is back in my ears. I can hear his screams, mixing with the sounds of the brush crunching under my feet. The sounds of that man chasing me. I’ve tried to cope without my brother these last few months, but when I see him, we are back in those woods again.

  Shep pops into my mind. I fight the image of him back.

  Preeti loses it, crumples on the floor in a sobbing heap. I find strange comfort in comforting her. Her shaking gives me something to focus on. Liz asks again what the cost of cremation will be. I don’t argue when Preeti tells me there’s this place in Santa Cruz where she’d like to spread Miles’s ashes. I want to keep part of him with me, but letting him go all together feels like the right thing to do.

  We leave Preeti at the hotel. All of us are too raw to even to talk about what we’ve just seen. I can’t even form real sentences. I just keep thinking, my poor, sweet brother. He didn’t deserve this. Those words, over and over, he didn’t deserve this. And another simple phrase. I want Shep.

  Liz continues to be a rockstar. She makes sure I’m hydrated and fed. We both know it’s a forgone conclusion that I won’t sleep well, but she climbs into the double bed on my side of the hotel room with me and she’s still there at two in the morning when my body forces me to stop crying and sleep.

  In the morning, I almost tell her about Shep. She knows he saved me, but she doesn’t know the rest. That my brain is hopelessly grasping at the moments I spent with him in my hospital bed. Those were the last moments of normalcy I remember. The last time I remember laughing without feeling guilty. Those stupid clowns. Quinten isn’t too far from Stanford, not that far. Less than a half day's drive. I could see him. I’m contemplating how to plausibly show up in Shep’s town with no explanation when Jason texts me and tells me he’s boarding his flight.

  That night Preeti cancels our dinner plans. She’s saving up her energy for the service. Liz begs off for dinner too. I don’t even ask if she’s sure. She’s exhausted and even though she didn’t know Miles well, I know she cares about me enough that this whole awful situation is weighing heavily on her. It's been clear the last few months that she can take care of me or pretend to tolerate Jason, but not both. I feel awful and thank her for the millionth time for being the amazing way she is.

  After he checks in and moves my stuff to his room, I listen to Jason talk about his clients as he finishes off his third beer in the hotel restaurant. I want to choke him, but it helps distract me. I need to put my own feelings aside. If Jason can forget that he's in town for a funeral, surely I can too. The distraction works until we climb into bed and he tries to slide his hand between my legs. I tell him I’m not in the mood. He comments that I haven’t been in the mood for months.

  He apologizes when he realizes that I am not against stabbing him with the blue hotel pen on the night stand. It just hasn't been months. That's a full blown lie. I fucked his brains out two days before I left the city. He apologizes again. He's just worried, he says. I haven't been myself. He hopes the funeral will give me what I need. I scream at him, tell him how he has no idea what this feels like. I tell him he's being selfish. When I calm down I'm so pissed at him that I don't have any nightmar
es.

  The next morning, when we get to the church, I take on the role of silent mourner, and people seem to be completely okay with that. The service is for Miles and his friends. I’m still here. I survived. I’ll see my friends again, hold Jason, fuck him again. Preeti cries enough for the both of us.

  As we walk to the reception, Jason slides his hand around my waist. I try to forget the fight we had the night before. I think of Shep’s fingers brushing mine.

  Month Six

  “I’m thinking about quitting my job,” I say to my therapist. It’s been suggested to me a few times that I see someone. My boss Lara insists upon it after I tell overrated modeling phenom Kaitey Taylor to shut the fuck up as we both head to the lobby of the Kleinman’s building. I’m not “handling” my grief and my temper seems to be “spiraling.”

  “You seem to need a cleansing of sorts. You said that you separated from your boyfriend last week and now you want to leave your job,” my therapist says.

  “I just don’t trust myself to keep my job right now.”

  “And why do you think that is?”

  I like Dr. Mao, but I hate talking to her. I have no idea how you’re expected to tell your therapist the truth. I barely tell myself the truth.

  “I'm not happy.”

  “Are you not happy with the job or are you not happy with your employer?”

  “I'm not sure.” Another lie.

  “How have you been sleeping?”

  “About the same.”

  “Not very much then.”

  “Not consistently,” I say.

  “Have you been keeping up with your sleep journal?”

  “No, but either I can’t sleep or I want to sleep all the time. Or I’m waking up at weird hours.”

  “Are you still having nightmares?”

  My throat closes. “No.”

  “There is nothing that dictates that you need to keep working there, but I would recommend contemplating next steps before making a hasty exit.”

  I nod and turn my phone over in my lap. It's off, but fidgeting with it is better than looking at my hands when they're empty. Some of the scars will fade, but a lot of the deep cuts will leave their tracks in my skin forever.

  “I don't want to go back,” I say.

  “Can you tell me why?

  “I just don't want to be there.” I'm not sure I want to be in the city, I almost add.

  “Well you haven't had a real break since your brother’s funeral, from what you’ve told me. A break or a fresh start might be a good idea.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you needed to use the breathing exercises this week?”

  Like seventeen times a day. “No. I tried to tune people out.”

  She scribbles something down. I almost close my eyes and take a deep breath and count to ten. Almost.

  Five

  Shep

  “Climate change isn’t real, my ass,” I say to no one, but Titus is looking up at me when I glance over at him. The sun is finally breaking through the clouds, giving me a chance at the shot I’ve been wanting for the last few days. This time of year the mountain typically has a few inches of snow, but it’s too warm. All we’re getting is rain.

  I shoot for a while, catching the sun as it breaks through the clouds in the distance and passes under the horizon. I give Titus his moments of vanity and take a few shots of him exploring the underbrush and rocks that surround the paths on the way back to my place. It’s full dark before we break through onto my property and the temperature has dropped, but I’m in no rush.

  I put my gun away, then set my camera bag and my walkie down, and go to grab Titus his dinner. I see the notification light is blinking on my house phone. It’s enough to sidetrack me. No one ever calls that number unless they need me down the mountain and they can’t get me on my cell. I go to hit the button and my phone rings again. The noise is so loud and grating I snatch it off the cradle before it can ring another time.

  “Hello?”

  “You busy?” It’s Connie. I can hear Paul shouting out orders in the background.

  “Not really. Something the matter?”

  “That girl, Claudia Cade. She’s in town. She came by the diner asking for you.”

  “What?” I’m not sure I heard her right.

  “That girl you saved. The one you brought down the mountain. She was just here. Jerry was in when she first came in. He was shocked to see her, but as soon as he left she asked me if I knew where to find you.”

  I’m silent for a few moments too long. I hear Connie, but it’s not making any sense.

  “Shep.”

  “She still there?” I ask.

  “No. I had her hang tight and gave her something to eat while I tried to get a hold of you. She just left.”

  “Did she say where she was going?”

  “She mumbled something about the hospital. She might have gone over there. You want me to call and see if Fern’s checked in yet?”

  “No, no. You don’t have to. I’ll come down and see if I can find her. Thanks, Connie.”

  “Not a problem.”

  I ignore the way my heart is suddenly pounding and set down the phone. I have to feed Titus, I tell myself, and I have to put my gear away. Once that’s taken care of I do my damnedest not to drive off the road as I race my truck down to the bottom of the mountain.

  The hospital’s a bust. One of the nurses I’m not familiar with tells me that Claudia’s been by the QER and dropped off some flowers for Fern. She’s said she’ll be back in the morning to see Sarah and the other girls on the day shift. If she’s still in town I know there are only two places she could be staying.

  My short search brings me to the row of green and grey semi-attached cabins just off the highway. I pull into the Light Grass Lodges. There are only a few cars out front. The bell rings loudly when I open the front door, but Kaleb McCray is already at the desk.

  “Hey man,” he says, stretching out his hand. I haven’t seen him in a while, but we try to catch up over at the bar every now and then. We clap palms and he reaches over the counter to pat me on the back. “What brings you over here?”

  “Do you have a guest staying here? Name’s Claudia Cade. I checked over at The Mountain View, but Sam said they were all booked up.”

  “Oh! Yeah. I—hold on. We’re not supposed to give out guests’ room numbers.”

  “She’s here though, right?”

  “Yeah she just stopped in and asked for extra towels. When I brought them to her it looked like she was settling in for the night.”

  “Uh, yeah if you could call her room and tell her I’m here, that would be cool.”

  “Not a problem, man.” He reaches for the phone. “I shouldn’t be surprised you’re here to see her. Haven’t seen a chick that hot around here in years. Of course Shepard Olsen the First has already laid claim to her.”

  I don’t respond. He doesn’t need to know that I have no idea what she looks like when she’s not covered in blood or bruises or bandages.

  “Miss Cade?” he says, his voice suddenly professional. “Hi, It’s Kaleb at the front desk. I have a Mr. Shep Olsen here to see you.” He pauses for a moment. “Would you like me to give him your room number?” Another pause. “Absolutely. I will let him know. Absolutely. You are very welcome.” He hangs up. The persona drops. “She’s coming up here. She said give her a few minutes.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So how do you know this chick?”

  I turn around and look at the picture of Kaleb’s grandparents mounted on the wall by the light switches. “Kind of a long story.”

  “She had a New York ID. Must be a good story if she came all the way out here to see you.”

  “It’s not. The double murders back in April. That’s how we met.”

  “Holy shit. That’s her?” The chatter around the county about Claudia and her brother, the man I’d killed and the scumbag that survived his run-in with Will’s cruiser didn’t die down until late sum
mer, but I was sure everyone had heard an approximation of the events.

  “Yeah. That’s her. Maybe relax a little when she comes in here.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Of course. Sorry. That’s some heavy shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  Kaleb defaults to football and starts telling me about how he’s trying to get time off to use the Seahawks tickets his uncle got him for his birthday. We’re talking about the Rams’ move when I hear the front door click and the bell ring a half second later. I turn around and Claudia is standing there. She looks different than I remember, but I know it’s her. At the time, I was more concerned with her living through the night than I was with her looks, but Kaleb wasn’t wrong. She’s hot as fuck.

  She’s shorter than me, like most everyone in a hundred mile radius, but she’s not very short. She’s wearing tight dark pants, some high tan boots, and one of those puffer winter jackets with a fur lined hood that somehow manages to hug her tits and her waist. She has makeup on, but she doesn’t need it. Her hazel eyes and her lips speak for themselves. She’s carrying a bouquet of roses. She smiles at me.

  “Hi,” she says. That’s her voice, my brain tells me. I’ve only heard it a handful of times, but it’s burned into my memory along with other things from that night.

  “Hey.”

  She stands just inside the door for a moment before she snaps me out of whatever trance I’m still in and walks right up to me. She’s just inches from me when she hands me the flowers. “These are for you. Pink is for gratitude.”

  I take them. “You didn’t have to.”

  “I did.”

  We’re both silent again. I can feel Kaleb watching us. Claudia glances past my shoulder as if to confirm that fact. She looks back up at me. The smile has faded. I don’t think either of us have thought much beyond this moment. She was looking for me. I found her. Now what?

  “There are services that deliver these things, I’ve heard,” I say sarcastically, nodding at the flowers.

  She smiles again. “I've heard, but I needed to do this.”