Page 52 of Neverland

Romeo stepped forward, cupping my cheeks, his thumbs gently caressing my skin. “One day, Lucy Sommers, I’m going to find a way to show you just how incredible you are. How beautiful you are, and how worthy you are. I could try to convince you now, but I know you’d never believe me. There’s a reason I didn’t think to ask you. I didn’t ask because I already know I want to go to everything with you. I want you there by my side so I can see your smile and hear your laugh everywhere I go.” This time he swiped the tears.

I sucked my bottom lip and tasted salt. “You mean that?”

“Nah! Maybe just a little.” Romeo winked and gave his most dazzling smile.

I laughed and delivered a gentle blow to his ribs. He caught my hand immediately after contact and pulled me close, one arm hooking around my neck, the other cupping my cheek. We held each other’s stare. “I mean every word, Lucy.” Romeo inched closer, his lips falling to mine, sealing his promise with a kiss. Every inch of me came alive, tingles running over my skin. When he pulled away I felt the immediate loss, my fingers gently touching where his mouth had been.

“Come on.” Romeo walked the rest of the way with his arm still hooked over my shoulder. It felt natural and I relished every second like the infatuated school girl I was. In fact, it was enough to steal my thoughts away from the job at hand. That was until we were only a hundred yards away from my house. We’d been so caught up in laughing and throwing playful digs at each other that neither of us had noticed the scene unfolding outside my house.

We saw it at the same time, our giggles fading along with our smiles.

“What’s happening?” I asked, taking in the ambulance and police vehicles stationed out front.

“I don’t know.” Romeo’s eyes were wide with worry.

We quickened our pace but slowed when the front yard, including the sidewalk, was cordoned off. A policeman finished establishing the crime scene by running the red-and-white striped tape around the street lamp and up to the fence line. There were three police cars, one parked with the left-side wheels on the curb, the other two haphazardly stationed in the front yard, atop patchy, overgrown grass. The ambulance waited in the drive, its back doors wide open.

Romeo threaded his fingers through mine, our presence going unnoticed. “Don’t say anything yet, Lucy,” he warned with a whisper. We stood back trying to make sense of it all. Romeo held tight, preventing me from running into the house.

“It’s a fucking mess in there,” a rather large officer said grimly to his colleague.

“What do you expect? There’s shit in every neighborhood and this is no different,” responded the shorter sheriff with the thick mustache.

“Yeah, well, it takes a special kind of fucked up shit to do what’s in there.”

I tried to shake myself free, but he held tight. “Romeo, I need to check on Mom. I need to see if she’s—”

“Lucy, you’re not going in there.”

This caught the Sheriff’s attention, their conversation ending, brows creasing together as they watched. They stared, mouths parted like they had something to say but couldn’t, eyes flicking from me to the house. Despite their candid appraisal of the ‘shit in every neighborhood,’ they grew rather concerned about our possible connection. Sheriff Moustache seemed to piece it together quicker than the other, but his words seemed lost in limbo as we all turned our attention to the voices emerging from the house. Paramedics accompanied by more police wearing blue booties eased a gurney through the front door. They took the porch stairs slowly, wood creaking under their heavy boots. Instinctually, I felt the need to warn them of the third step.

“Get out of here, you two!” the heavier sheriff barked.

Romeo took a step toward them. “What happened? Lucy is—” While he was momentarily distracted, I pulled my hand free and ducked under the tape.

“Get back here, girl,” the officer called but he was just white noise to me. Circling the police vehicle, my fingers ran along the smooth paneling, eyes fixated to what was unfolding. Leaning against its hood, I bit my bottom lip and stared at the body in the bag. While my body trembled, my heart soared with a surprising sense of hope.

Today could very well mark the day all our troubles were over.

I felt delight.

Every night, I cried into my pillow wishing something like this would happen. Sometimes I felt guilty, other times I begged and pleaded for it to become reality. But now I felt hopeful he could truly be dead. Dead and never again able to hurt us.

Then I heard his voice.

“She fucking… fucking deserved everything she got,” my father raged, an officer strong holding each meaty arm. “The useless fucking bitch deserved it.”

A warmth spread between my legs, urine streaming down my thighs and into my sockless shoes. He was shirtless, his torso and face covered in blood.

I prayed he wouldn’t see me. Every terrifying night he’d held me captive, my body seized to the sound of his raised, drunken voice, and now, he was doing it again.

Tears welled as I looked between the man I detested and the black body bag that held the person I loved.

I’d never see my momma again.

He’d killed her. Just like he promised he always would.

I should have told Mom I loved her. I should have said it more. I should have given her encouragement to take control of her life. I should have gone home and checked up on her. Maybe if I had, my father wouldn’t have put her head through three different walls. Maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have then bludgeoned her to death with the broken shower faucet.

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