Cruel Boundaries (8 page)

Chapter Thirty

Amy~

‘We’re going to play a game. If you can guess what I’m writing on your back, I’ll let you go.’

I wake up gasping for air, my screams still ringing in my ears. I throw the blanket back and rush to switch on the light. I yank the dress over my head and turn my back to the mirror as I remove the bandage. The gauze sticks to my skin, and I’m careful not to hurt myself more as I peel it slowly off.

I see the first cut, and then another. A sob bubbles up my throat. Mom rushes into the room. “Oh, Angel, no!”

Daddy also comes in and then Noah follows, stopping by the door. Anger quickly replaces the sorrow and I throw my dress in his direction. I don’t care that I’m half naked, only wearing underwear and a bra.

“What is he still doing here?” I shriek, pointing at Noah.

“Now, Amy, he didn’t know what Brad was up to,” Mom says, defending him!

Bitter laughter slips over my lips. “Is that what he told you?” My eyes dart between Mom and Daddy’s. “Did he tell you I told him? Did he tell you that I told him!?” I scream. “He told me I better watch my back, that payback’s a bitch!” I stalk to where Noah is standing and hate that I’m shorter than him, but it doesn’t stop me. I punch him as hard as I can, and satisfaction fills me as his head whips to the side. “I have your name carved into my skin. You might be able to fool them but I promise you, I will make you pay! You better watch your back, cause payback’s a bitch and that bitch is me!”

Daddy takes hold of my shoulders, pulling me back. I yank free and step away from them. “If he’s staying here then I’m moving. I’m not living under the same roof as him.”

“Amy, let’s talk this out,” Daddy says. “You’re suffering from shock. You’ve just remembered it all and you need some time to get over the initial shock.”

I shake my head glaring at Daddy. “A man tries to kill me,” I suck in a harsh breath and it makes my voice thicker, “a man carved me up and then suffocated me. That man is his,” I point at Noah and then shout, “fucking best friend! There is nothing in this world that will make me calm down!”

“Amy,” my name sounds strangled as it slips from Noah’s lips, “I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” It actually sounds like he’s begging, but I know better. Noah is incapable of feeling remorse! “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

I walk back to him and lift myself as high as I can, so I’m not that short. “Your pathetic sorry means nothing to me,” I hiss. “I use to hate you, Noah, now you’re nothing to me. You’re dead to me.”

“Oh, Angel,” Mom gasps. “It’s all still so raw! Don’t say things you’ll regret later on.”

I stalk over to the cupboard, yank a bag out and start to shove clothes into it. Mid-way through I stop to pull a random dress over my head, and then I go on packing as quick as I can.

“Amy, you need to be with family. Let us help you through this,” Mom begs.

“Really, Mom? I need to be with family?” I keep shoving clothes into the bag. “I can’t even begin to process this. I’m going back to the city.” I get up, pulling the bag over my shoulder and give Noah the coldest stare I can muster when I say, “He’s not family. He’s never been family and he never will be.”

I shove by Noah as I leave and I hear him whisper, “Princess.”

I stop and glare at Noah. “Just because you stuck your tongue into my mouth, it doesn’t change a thing. You started this war and I’ll finish it.”

I rush down the passage, needing to get away from Noah as fast as I can.

“Wait!” Dad calls after me. “You can’t go in the middle of the night. It’s not safe.”

I stop by the stairs and glare at them. “You think I’m safe here? With that man here?” On my way out I say, “I’d rather take my chances out there.”

~*~

Chapter Thirty-One

Noah~

Now that’s what I call a shit storm.

Amy’s gone and I really don’t think she’ll ever forgive me.

I’m on my way back to my apartment. I figured it would be better to just go back to work.

I keep replaying the night over in my head. The one minute Amy is actually happy and the next she’s hysterical, not that I blame her. In her mind it all just happened. I wonder if she remembers the past few weeks and that we actually got along.

I wonder if I’ll ever see that warmth in her eyes again.

I’m confused so I can only imagine how she must feel.

When I walk into the apartment, I go straight to the kitchen and grab a beer. Fuck this! I take the six pack and go sit with it. I drink one beer after the other, trying to think of a way to fix it all.

~*~

It’s been a week since the night Amy got her memory back. She’s not answering her phone. Yes, even I tried to phone. She’s not talking to anyone.

Aunt Kris phoned me earlier, asking to go check if Amy is okay with Sharon. I’ve never been to Sharon’s house, so this is a first for me.

I knock on the door and take a step back, tucking my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans.

The door opens and when Sharon sees it’s me, she frowns. “What are you doing here?” Well, she’s not exactly overcome with joy to see me.

“I’m looking for Amy,” I get right to the point.

She looks surprised. “She’s not here, maybe try her folks. I haven’t spoken with her in a while.”

I frown, caught off guard. I really thought Amy was here. “She didn’t come here a week ago?”

Sharon shakes her head. “Like I said, we haven’t spoken in a while. She’s not taking my calls.”

I don’t even bother greeting. I run to my car, wracking my mind. Where the hell is Amy?

I’ll phone Uncle Garrett if I don’t find her, no use getting them all worried as well.

I sit in my car for a few breathless seconds and think. Where would she be?

If I was Amy where would I go?

~*~

Chapter Thirty-Two

Amy~

I’ve been hiding out in Daddy’s apartment. I threw my phone on the kitchen counter and haven’t even bothered to charge it.

I don’t want to see anyone. I just want to be left alone.

I’m lying in the middle of the bed, the covers pulled over my head.

I’m angry. I’m confused.

I can still taste the fear of when Brad had me. I can still feel the pain of each cut. I can still feel the hopelessness that’s threatening to drag me under.

But, I also remember what happened after I was found, waking at the hospital and then going to the beach house. I remember what it felt like to be safe with Noah, the person who has been my biggest threat.

I remember our time at the fair. He was actually nice to me. And the kiss, well, before it all went to hell.

I’m so damn confused. Half of me hates Noah, and wants to make him pay – the other half remembers the kind side of him, and wants to forgive him.

~*~

Somewhere from outside I hear a constant hammering, and it’s starting to drive me insane!

I crawl out of bed and walk into the bathroom. I don’t even bother putting on the light. I open the faucets to fill the bath, and then brush my teeth. I feel and look awful.

I stare at the water as it fills the tub. When there’s enough water in, I strip out of my dress and underwear. I take off the bandage and just drop it to the floor. My back looks much better, with most of the cuts scabbed over. It hasn’t bled at all in the last three days.

I climb into the bath. I let the warm water soak into my bones. My back stings a little, but nothing bad.

I slip my head under the water. The silence is heavenly as the water blocks out the noise from outside.

I slip even deeper, letting the water cover all of me. I can fall asleep right here, in the warm depths of the bath.

I come up for some air before dipping under again. My mind wanders back to Noah, and what I should do. Maybe he deserves a chance? Maybe he’s telling me the truth, and his apology is real?

Maybe it’s all a scam and he’s getting ready to off me for good?

The water starts to cool around me and I let some out before filling it with warm water again.

Maybe I should play my own game with Noah, teach him a lesson he’ll never forget. He kissed me, and that must mean he feels something for me, right?

The idea pops into my mind that I could seduce him, and then break him. Could I really do that without hurting myself?

~*~

Chapter Thirty-Three

Noah~

When I knock and there’s no answer, I try the door. I’m happy and pissed off when it opens. She’s so irresponsible! Anybody can walk right in and kill her!

“Amy!” I call out but there’s no answer. I take the stairs to the bedroom and I can see the bed’s been slept in.

I hear water dripping and follow the sound into the bathroom. I still don’t see her and just to make sure she’s not in here, I step further in and open the shower door. It’s empty. The dripping water catches my attention and I glance over the bath.

My breath rushes from me and I move. “Fuck, no!” I shout as I jump into the bath. I slip my arm under Amy and haul her up. Water splashes everywhere.

I hear her coughing and relief washes over me. Her fingers are digging into my biceps. When our eyes meet, and I see them sparking with anger, I’m happy. I’m just fucking happy she’s alive!

“What the hell are you doing, Noah?” she shrieks.

“I should be asking you,” I hiss. “I know things are bad, but that’s no reason to kill yourself!”

“Huh?” the word pops over her lips and then she says, “I wasn’t. I was bathing.” Understanding dawns on her face and she whispers, “You were worried I’d tried to kill myself?”

“Yeah,” I let out on a breath.

I’m still holding her to me, straddling her. I hope I didn’t hurt her back!

“Can you get up so I can get out?” she asks and her cheeks flush lightly.

For a moment I stare at the pink flush on her cheeks, and it reminds me of the Amy she was before her memory came back.

I get up and take hold of her arms, so I don’t hurt her back, pulling her up with me. Making sure she has her balance I step out of the bath and grab a towel. I reach behind me, holding the towel out to her.

I feel her take it and then I take a few steps away from the bath.

My heart is still hammering in my chest. It’s twice now I thought she was dead. I can’t handle a third!

I swing around, not caring if she’s got herself covered. She’s holding the towel around her, brushing some wet strands from her face.

I take a step towards her. “I want the Amy back that I got to know at the fair. I’d never hurt you, I swear it. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’ll spend my life making up for it.”

She stares at me, at first saying nothing, then she takes a few steps, stopping right in front of me.

“You want to make it up to me?” she asks, her voice raspy. The sound sends tingles down my spine.

“Yeah, I do. I’d do anything. Just don’t shut us out anymore. Let us help you.”

She nods and bites her bottom lip. She places a hand against my chest and pushes me backwards. I’m not sure what she’s doing, but I move, figuring she wants out of the bathroom.

I walk into the bedroom and head for the stairs to give her some privacy.

Minutes later she comes down, dressed in one of her hippie dresses. This one reaches to the floor.

“When last did you eat?” I ask as I head to the kitchen.

“There’s no food in the apartment. I have coffee,” she says, smiling playfully at me.

Hope blooms in my chest. Is she really going to let me make it up to her?

“I’ll order some pizza. Coffee is not a food group.”

I take a seat on the nearest couch, which happens to be a loveseat. While I’m placing the order, Amy grabs the remote and comes to sit next to me. She puts on a music channel and then turns to face me, tucking her legs under her body.

When I’m done ordering our dinner, she says, “So you were worried about me?” I can see the doubt in her eyes and that bothers me.

“Princess, we might fight like cats and dogs, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t care.” I see her eyes warm a bit and I decide to crack a joke,” besides if anyone is going to give you a hard time it’s me.”

“I suppose I should phone Daddy and Mom. They must be worried.”

“That would be a good idea.” Silence falls between us and I reach for her hand. I give it a squeeze and when she looks up at me, I whisper, “You have to know I’d never hurt you. I’m so sorry for what Brad did. If you need to talk about it, I’m here.”

Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t say anything, which is a bit disappointing. I want her to open up to me, to confide in me and learn that she can trust me.

She doesn’t pull her hand from mine and looks deep in thought when she says, “Why did we start fighting? I can’t remember where it all started.”

I start to play with her fingers, bringing her hand over to my thigh. “It’s actually stupid. I think I was twelve or fourteen, somewhere around that age, when you said I’m not family because I’m adopted. It kinda spiraled out of control from there. We were kids. I think we started fighting more out of habit than for an actual reason.

~*~