Holding Her in Madness (12 page)

Lil’s house doesn’t have a gate or a fence. So her backyard is just wide open and they don’t have neighbors an acre each way either, that makes this a lot fucking easier on me.

I creep. Yes... I fucking creep. Like a pussy. Or a thief. I’m gonna say I creep like a thief. It sounds better than I creep like a pussy.

I creep like a thief around the side of her house, keeping to the shadows. As I round the house into the backyard, I hear my firecracker. The sound of her crying tears through my heart like bullets and immediately my eyes tear up.

She’s mumbling and sniffling every few seconds. Still shrouded in darkness, I come up directly behind her, less than a foot away.

Goddamn, I missed you, firecracker.

The winter night wind picks up, blowing her thin, tangled hair.

When I smell her in the cold breeze, I have to both bite the inside of my cheeks and cover my mouth, stepping back for a bit as I smother the guttural groan of both misery and bliss that tries to escape my chest.

I slide down with my back against the bricks of her house and sink to the wet earth, feeling it seep through my jeans and boxers. But I don’t fucking care. Keeping my hands over my mouth, I’m left breathing ragged breaths through my nose. Tears, I didn’t even realize I was crying are running down my face in rivers.

A sob I’ve caught in my throat stays locked there directly beside my heart booming inside my chest cavity.

Then I hear her. Speaking through her tears and agony. On her own sob, she whispers, “I cannot give you a rational excuse or the appropriate reason. I can barely give you simple facts.” Her head falls into her hands. The one holding her cigarette drops it onto the patio table she’s sitting at and her cigarette rolls away.

The sobs racking her tiny body shake so hard that the chair she’s sitting in rocks back and forth.

I swear to God she has to have lost more than thirty fucking pounds. Her shoulder bones are protruding out, clearly noticeable in her old thin t-shirt.

She looks sick. My baby—my Lil—looks really sick.

I’m so fucking worried for her that I go to step forward, gather her up...until she lets out a growl and continues her confusing rant.

“It’s fucked up. So fucked up.”

It hits when she stands up, turning sideways to grab her lighter, then sits back down and pulls her knees up to her chest.

She’s not pregnant with my baby.

She’s not pregnant.

I didn’t realize that was why I was here. That was what I was expecting to see. I didn’t know that I was here to play the ace up my sleeve. But that’s why I came. I was ready to lay all my cards on the table.

Only instead of two pairs, Aces over twos, all I have is a pair of twos. And I’d gone all in for my firecracker.

And I lost to the house.

The house always wins.

I sink back to my spot against the brick wall in the dark and listen to her, mumbling and lost in that damn head of hers.

She laughs a crazed, maniacal laugh that sends chills down my spine, and I can barely make her words out. “I’m a fucking masochist. That’s what I fucking am. It’s all I can be though, really. If I don’t pick at the scabs to make them bleed and hurt, then it’s like....” Whatever she is saying is lost in another bone-racking sob. I barely make out the last word on her whispered exhale. “…real.”

“Lil, fuck, firecracker. Why are you so damn broken? What the fuck has happened to you, baby?” My whisper is quieter than the night air.

She stands up and heads straight towards me.

I fucking freeze. Every goddamn nerve, muscle, and bone in my body is begging to reach out and grab her. My mind continues to keep me still. Her foot is less than six inches away from my right hand when she stops, tossing the contents of an ashtray into the yard at my feet.

Then she turns away, muttering to herself, “I’ll happily accept these masochistic urges. Happily shoulder that pain. Hurts a lot less than the pain of him not being real, him being a figment of my imagination. Which fucking scares me more than anything.”

She sighs and gathers up her papers, notebook, and cigarettes. Then she goes inside and locks the back door.

I can’t move. Still haven’t moved a single centimeter since she walked towards me.

And I don’t move. Not one fucking time.

The only things moving are the wheels in my head and the tears that continue to stream down my face.

My firecracker. She’s gone.

I probably should have noticed it when I found her outside in the dead of the night and the middle of winter in nothing but a thin t-shirt and sweatpants, sitting on her back porch, crying. I’m even surer that her broken sobs that racked her too thin frame should have been a clue. I couldn’t figure out exactly what her cryptic pain-filled words meant, but I’m goddamn certain they were also red flags.

None of it though, and I mean not one of those things, told me what I saw in her eyes when she was less than a foot away. Nothing that I witnessed tonight shook me to the marrow of my bones like the dead, cold look in her dull gray eyes did when she made eye contact with me hidden in the dark for less than a second.

My firecracker.

She’s gone.

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby. More sorry than you’ll ever know,” I whisper hours later as the sun rises.

Then I head back to my car.

The evening after the stark dose of reality that I’ll never have my firecracker back, that home is a place I’ll never go again... Josh and I are packing his shit in my back seat, getting ready to hit the road to Lake Charles.

I got my bike on a trailer that I hitched to the back of my car. Damn trailer is old as shit and rickety as hell, and I’m praying that it makes the ride.

“That the last of it?” I nod towards the box in Josh’s hand.

“Yep, that’s it, man. This is gonna fucking kick ass!” Josh slaps the hood of my Camaro then jogs towards his house right as Jason comes out.

“Jason, come here, man.” He looks up at me with a nervous look. “What? Don’t look at me like that. Fuckin’ come here.”

“What?” He’s looking between me and the bike and starts heading over to the bike.

“I need to ask you for a favor.” I’m trying to figure out how to word this shit so the kid doesn’t think I’m a stalker and turn my ass in.

“What kinda favor?” The little guy starts pulling his guards up immediately.

“It’s nothing really. Kinda like spy work, but it’s important. So I will have to pay you for it, and you have to swear to me that you’ll keep it totally confidential. You can’t tell anyone. Think you can handle that?”

“Depends. How much money are we talking?”

Shit, the little fucker is much smarter than his older brother. That’s promising. Even more so if I can get him on my side. “Hundred bucks a month.” His eyes almost bulge out of his head.

Gotcha, kid
.

My chest constricts and expands at the same time. I know I have to do this to keep my sanity. I also know that whatever this kid tells me is shit I’m not gonna want to hear. But I’ll lose my goddamn mind without it.

“Done. Whatcha need?” Kid’s face is serious as a heart attack.

“Look, Jason. I’m gonna call the line in my room at Grands.” I unhook the key from the key ring in my hand and toss it to him. “Every Sunday, I want you there to answer the phone. Me and you are gonna have a little chat. I wanna hear how Grands is doing, how you’re doing, and I wanna know what Lil’s up to.”

“Shit, Leo. I can’t hit Allen up about his sister all the time. That’s gonna look weird as hell.”

“No, no, no... Nuh uh. Don’t talk to Allen about it. Don’t ask Allen anything. You just keep your damn ears open. When you’re over there, pay attention to Lil and what she has going on. Anything Allen says, just file that shit away and tell me on Sunday. I know there will be Sundays when you don’t have anything to report, and that’s cool. You’ll still get paid. And I still want to know about you and Grands. You understand, don’t you, Jason?”

“Yeah, yeah, I understand. Okay, I’ll do it. It’s just…” He turns his back to me and runs his hand down his face, “Man, Leo...” I watch his shoulders sag before he turns around.

“Sup, kid? You can tell me.”

“She’s just not like she used to be. At all. Her whole family is worried about her, but they don’t know what to do.”

“I know, Jason. I saw her.”

“You did?” His eyes shoot to mine. “When? She never goes anywhere. When?”

“Last night. Just to check up on her. She didn’t know I was there. Let’s keep it that way.”

“That’s why Josh called last night.”

“Yeah. That’s why. I just wanted to see if she was okay. That’s all.”

His eyes lock with mine. “She’s not.”

“No. She’s not, is she, Jason?” Josh comes up with a duffle bag that looks like it weighs a ton and it’s gotta lot of shit clinking in there. “So that’s why I need your help, kiddo. Ya feel me?”

“Yep. Sure do.” He starts heading back to the house, and I jog a few steps and loop my arm around his shoulder.

“I appreciate it, Jason.” I slap his shoulder, “More than you know, man.”

“‘Kay, Leo. I’ll see ya!”

I walk back to my car, open the car door, and slide in. “Yep! Bye, little buddy!”

Josh and I take off.

“What was all that shit about?” Josh asks, pulling out two beer bottles.

“You are the dumbest, smartest fucker I know, Joshie.” I grab the beer he hands me and take a swig. “Ready for Lake Charles, motherfucker?”

“Hell yeah I am!”

We pull into the apartment complex at around four in the evening. Josh is hammered, and I’m right behind him. We leave all his shit in the car and head up to my apartment.

I get the door unlocked and stumble in because Josh is crashing into my back. “The fuck, dude? Lay your ass on the damn couch and pass the fuck out already. Fuckin’ drunk-ass.”

“Where’s my damn bed at?” He flops face-first into the couch.

“Told your dumb ass I don’t have a bed in your room. You gotta go get one tomorrow.” I’m talking to no one. Josh is already snoring his ass off. “Drunk-ass,” I mumble, heading to my room while stripping out of my t-shirt.

I kick my bedroom door shut, but before it closes, I hear a knock on my front door.

Huh. “Who the hell?” I pull my t-shirt back on inside out walking back into the living room and open the door.

Wow. Shit. No really, WOW. She’s fucking beautiful. I haven’t had that thought about any girl. Not one time since...

“Yeah?” It comes out meaner than I meant it to. It’s not this girl’s fault Lil popped in my head.
Damn it!

“Hey, I’m Annalise. I just moved in”—she turns and points at the door directly in front of mine—”I guess next door.” She laughs, and it fucking sounds exactly like my little firecracker. “Across the hall?” She looks back at up at me with the bluest fucking eyes.

Navy, just like my Lil’s. Her hair is darker than Lil’s but just as long. And she’s tiny too. Just like Lil.

I realize she’s stopped talking and I’m staring at her and haven’t said a word. Like a fucking dumbass. I cough and shake my head, trying to clear it, get Lil out of it.

“I’m Leo.” I reach my hand out and she puts her tiny little hand in mine, blushes, and ducks her head. We shake hands a little longer than necessary. Her hand is still in mine when I ask, “Miss Annalise, what can I do for you? Or you just coming over to introduce yourself?”

She slowly pulls her hand from mine and ducks her head again, but I still see her blush deepen. “No, I mean, yes. I did want to introduce myself, but I also... Well the water company won’t be over ‘til the morning. I have electricity, but I was just... If I...”

She tosses her head back and growls at the ceiling. Her neck is some shit I would draw for hours. The curve, dammit it’s beautiful!

“Gahhh! Shit!” She shakes her head. “Sorry. I can speak, I swear. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me! May I have some water please? I’m just gonna run and grab my pitcher, and if you would, please, fill it up with some water? Please?” She laughs again. “Oh my God, how many times is this freak on your doorstep going to say please? Sorry. I’m not crazy, I promise.”

I can’t help but chuckle at her. “You sure? That’s an awful lotta pleases and sorrys all bunched together. You do know it’s just water, right? They don’t charge by the gallon. You’re not asking to siphon my gas.”

“Haha. Yes, I know that. And if the hose in the front bushes wasn’t stuck to the faucet and riddled with holes, I would have been able to bypass this entire embarrassing Seinfeld moment. Instead, sorry—haha, again—you got stuck peddling me water. I’m... I’ll just go grab my pitcher and shut the hell up.”

She turns on her heel and walks into her apartment, but I still hear her funny-ass rants. “So damn stupid, Annalise. The hell is your problem. Have you never seen a hot guy? Christ!”

I close the door slightly, lean my back against the wall, and crack up laughing. “Josh!” I whisper-scream. “Josh! Get your drunk ass up! You gotta check this chick out. Josh!” I kick the couch, but his snoring doesn’t miss a beat.

Annalise clearing her throat has my hand jerking the door back open.