Page 45 of Wicked Lies Grow Wildflowers
MAEREN
I’m sittingin Xander’s car which is still parked in front of my apartment. He’s got the heat blasting while waiting for me to talk as he rubs circles on my hand with his thumb. I’ve spent the last fifteen minutes trying not to hyperventilate and I finally feel calm enough to get out more than one sentence before breaking down again.
“Okay, I think I’m ready. First, I want to say that I’m so so fucking sorry for freaking out on you and not believing you. I know I had no reason to doubt you, but nothing else felt like it made any sense, until tonight.” I suck in a breath and start explaining what happened to me for the second time tonight. By the time I’m done I feel as though I’m outside of my body, shock is setting in, I’m sure.
When I turn back to Xander his face is scarily blank, void of any emotion, but his body is radiating a lethal energy. The hand that was holding mine stops all movement, and his other hand is white knuckling the steering wheel. He’s silent, I can’t even hear him breathe, and it’s scaring me.
“Xander, say something,please.” I swallow.
“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to find him and I’m going to fucking kill him,” he says between clenched teeth.
“Well, sorry to tell you this, but I don’t think you’re going to find him. The police aren’t even confident they can, let alone you.” I wish he could though, not that I want to see anyone seriously hurt or dead, but what if that was my attacker’s plan for me?
He casts his eyes away from me. “I am so fucking sorry I didn’t protect you, Maeren. You have no idea how sorry I am.”
“It’s not your fault. If anything it’s mine. I didn’t believe you, and then I didn’t lock my door when I went to bed, and all of this just feels like my fault because I’ve been so naive andGodI just should havelistenedto you.”
Xander grabs my face now and stares into my eyes. “No, it’s not your fault. None of this is your fault and don’t you dare think for even a fucking second that you caused any of this.”
I rest my forehead against his and nod. Xander takes me to his place as neither one of us wants me at my apartment. When we arrive we go straight to bed and I fall asleep with him holding me. Feeling safe for the first time in hours.
The next dayI call into work, taking another work from home day and cancelling my showing. I feign that I’m still getting over the flu, and luckily Thanksgiving being tomorrow affords me the weekend off for more rest.
I don’t have anything at Xander’s place and need my car and laptop, amongst everything else. Including Gracie. Oh my God I hope she’s okay. She’s probably scared and wondering where I am. We drive across town and I stare up at my apartment fromthe street. Xander offers to come up with me and help gather my things. I’m not sure how long I plan to stay with him, but I know I can’t be here right now. The terror is far too fresh.
I slowly climb the steps and try to stop the flashbacks of last night from assaulting me. It takes every effort for me to steady my hands enough to unlock my door but when I push it open Gracie meows and runs straight for me. I fall to my knees and gather her up in arms, pressing kisses to her head and crying into her soft fur. I’m so relieved to find her safe.
Xander helps me stand and shuts the door behind us. I carry Gracie slowly to my bedroom and stare at the closed door, my hands shaking as I try to open the knob. Xander gently places his hand on my shoulder and reaches to open it for me. I step inside and look around, my face going ashen and limbs locking up as I take in the disheveled bedding. Amongst my twisted sheets lie photos. Dozens of photos of me. Running, leaving work, at showings, shadows of me through my closed curtains, even of me at the grocery store. A note lies in the very middle of my bed.‘You can’t escape me.’I drop Gracie and run past Xander, unable to hear anything he’s saying to me. I stumble into the bathroom, dropping to my knees in front of the toilet as I retch into it.
Over and over I dry heave, bile burning my throat. Xander holds my hair back with one hand as the other holds his phone. He’s talking to the police, telling them about what just happened. They are sending officers out again, and encourage him to not leave me alone. When he hangs up I drop my head onto the toilet seat and he smoothes my hair from my face.
“Stay right here, I’m going to gather your things while we wait for the police, okay?”
I nod and Xander places a kiss to my temple before going to my room and packing my things. By the time the police come, he has two duffle bags packed for me, and Gracie sits in her travel carrier, meowing to be let out.
The police take photos for evidence and package all of the photos into evidence bags. They’ll join all of the other pieces of evidence they have from the last several months of this nightmare.
Xander carried my things down to his car and drives me back to his condo, where I fall asleep for several more hours. My mind and body are spent and need rest. I only hope my dreams don’t turn into very real nightmares.
When I wakeit’s evening.
“Fuck. I have dinner with my mom tomorrow. I have to get to the grocery store.”
“Are you sure you’ll be okay to do that tomorrow? It’s okay if you need to cancel. We can just do something here,” Xander offers.
“I wish, but she’ll have my head if I don’t go.”
“Okay, well I’ll drive you to the store then.” Xander stands up from the bed.
“Sure, I’d like that.” I don’t particularly want to be alone at all right now.
The grocery storeis absolutely slammed with last minute shoppers fighting over turkeys and stuffing mix. Carts are piled full and there’s so much chatter going on, so many families clearly excited to be getting together. I can’t relate. I alsoshouldn’t have waited this long to grab a pie but current events clearly took precedence over all else.
My eyes roam the measly picked over dessert section, and settle on an apple pie because pumpkin is all out. Hopefully my mother doesn’t mind—I can picture her ranting on and on about how I must not respect tradition if I couldn’t even manage to get the one pie Thanksgiving celebrations are known for. I imagine using that as my cue to stand up to her and tell her to shove the pie right up her ass before walking out, and I laugh to myself at the idea. That wouldn’t go over well, but if the end result is as I intend, then I guess it would be just fine. Instead I’ll try to bite tongue just long enough for her to pretend we are a functioning family for Simon, before letting her know it’s the last meal we will ever share. She’ll be crying and screaming as I walk my way out of her door and into perpetual solitude.
I’m still dreaming of my future solitude on our way home, but those dreams burst when I see Sage standing in Xander’s parking lot. I turn to him, “What the hell?”
Xander shrugs, “She threatened to cut my balls off if I didn’t tell her what was going on with you. She’s had my number for a while because she‘didn’t trust me’. I invited her over because I think you could use the support, and she’s very worried about you. We both are.”
