Transcending Nirvana (Dark Evoke #3) (22 page)

I graced the front steps with my head high, my shoulders back and my purse over my arm. From over my shoulder, I pressed the fob to lock the doors of the BMW, the lights flashing to confirm it had been secured, while I knocked on the door three times, awaiting an answer. When the door opened, he was standing aside, an obvious attempt of avoiding prying eyes.

“Liv, what are you doing here?” he queried with a slight slur, opening up farther to allow entry. Closing the door behind me after I stepped over the threshold, he turned around. His face was a disarray with a purple, swelling left eye which was more of a slit, a split, fat lip, his nose had clearly been broken, while his jaw was discolored and bulging, and his middle finger had some form of splint attached.

In that moment, I was secretly smiling while sending Walker a telepathic high-five.

“What happened? You look like shit,” I folded my arms across my chest, opting for nonchalance. I only had one shot at this, and fucking up was not an option.

“Fucking, Walker. Barged in last night and assaulted me in my own house. Fucking wild dog, he should be put down, the whole family should.”

I felt my fingers stirring, secretly opening and closing into a tight fist at my side, while adrenaline prompted stomach flips worthy of an Olympic gold medal. I had to keep calm. “Have you been to The Emergency Room?”

He nodded. “He thinks he got one over me, now. He’s got a shock.”

“What do you mean? Wait, you’re…you’re not going to retaliate are you?” I shifted. “You should just leave them be, let everyone carry on with their lives.”

“He was taken into custody last night. The only thing making this worthwhile is how fraught those two must have been when he got carted away,” he sneered and my blood turned cold, every muscle in my body contracting as I strove to not to play into his hands…yet…

“Are you pressing charges?”

The way he shook his head, slow and threatening, armored the sense of relief in getting Kady to leave. “That would be too easy. No, I’m going to make them sweat before they’re taught their lessons.”

“You’re talking like you have something up your sleeve. Hang on; are you planning something, Liam?”

He smirked, his white teeth framed by the sinister curve of his lips and purple bruised flesh. “A wise man never tells his secrets, Liv. Like I said, it’s waiting it out which is the most fun…most alarming…”

The act was wearing thin. I tried with everything I had to keep my composure, but how fucking dare he threaten my best friends, regardless of if they classed me worthy of their friendship of not…“Well, you’re going to be waiting a long time then.”

His face fell. “What do you mean?” he queried, rather perplexed. I simply smirked back at him, watching his face set and his open eye flash that familiar, hardened glare. When he took three steps toward me, I took three back, the wall behind me at the bottom of the stairs halting my progression. “What do you mean?” he spat again, his body awfully close, succeeding in restraining me.

In that moment, I didn’t care one iota. I let my shackled thoughts unbind and did something that everyone I knew was afraid of doing when it came to Liam DeLaney. I provoked him…

“She’s gone…I told her everything, and now she’s gone…”

“Gone? Everything? I don’t understa––”

“You thought you were in charge, that anything you wanted in life would be yours in the end. You wanted Kady, before you didn’t want her as a person, but as a Stepford wife who would defend you each time you laid a hand on her. Each bruise and gash you left, never mind those pills you rammed down her throat time and time again, she justified it all. And then there was me…” I mirrored his once shrewd grin and tipped my head back against the wall, arching my back while looking him in the eye. “
I was never yours
. In fact, I still cringe when I think of all those times I had your hands on my body.”

“I…I…”

His stuttering was imitated before my grin turned vindictive. “I thought you were a shrewd man, Liam DeLaney?
Yes…oh yes…harder, Liam…I need you; I always need you…
” I cried, simulating the sounds which I freed in the throes of passion. “Sound familiar?”

The underside of his fist connecting with the wall at the side of my head made me jolt. “You fucking bitch…”

“You took my best friend away from me and your actions almost killed her. You want to know how much I detest you, Liam?”
Here goes…
“I got rid of your spawn before it had the chance to dream, and before it knew what sort of sick, woman-beater its father was.”

“You’re lying…”

“Am I?” I countered, deadpan. “Why do you think I said no to sex on our trip to Hawaii?” I saw the look of recollection in his eyes, and when his split lip was grazed by his tongue, he hissed in discomfort. “I can give you the clinic’s number if you want, verify it for yourself.”

Narrowly finishing my sentence, his right hand shot to my throat and he clutched at the area tightly, his strength behind his hold had my feet virtually swept off the floor. I gasped and choked, fighting past his demanding clench while my toes were the only thing touching the ground.

“You fucking sadistic bitch. You are going to wish you didn’t do any of that. What gives you the right? What gives you the fucking right you cheap, filthy fucking whore?!” he seethed, and from the wall by the staircase, my body was tossed to the front door. Crumpled on the cool, polish hardwood, he pointed and prowled toward me, while my hand grasped at my tender throat. “You have no fucking idea what you’ve just done…”

“No?” I challenged, fighting past the rawness. The front door aided me as I reared up from the floor, my purse being hooked over my shoulder once more. “You can’t do anything, Liam. It’s out of your control. The truth is out, all of it.” I watched his face fall and kept a close eye on his clenching fist at his side. “The abuse and violence, the reason why I reeled you in and betrayed my best friend...it’s all out there. And Kady has gone, she’s finally free of you, you sick son of a bitch.”

My words of truth goaded him like I had never seen before. I gasped, my hand blindly seeking the doorknob behind me while I watched his right shoulder pull back. “You wouldn’t dare touch me, Liam. You’re not that stupid,”

“You seem to be forgetting something, Liv,” he smirked once again, and it sent a chill down my spine. “Kady’s gone. You’ve gone. You killed my baby…I have nothing left to lose.” His feet scuffed across the floor, his eyes flared with undisguised fury, as he muttered with a growl, “And a man with nothing to lose is an unpredictable man…”

His threatening words caused the air to catch in my throat. Still, I kept eye contact, and made an effort to keep my poise. Once I heaved the door open, I staggered out of the house, and with my hand still clutching at my throat, I turned back to see him standing at the summit of the front steps, with Mrs. Steinbeck being a nosey busybody on her front porch.

Slipping into the car, I quickly locked myself in. Digging into my purse, I fished out my handset and pressed pause. ‘
And a man with nothing to lose is an unpredictable man’
? A woman, who sacrificed a friendship that came once in a lifetime, must be terrifying then. Especially when she has a recording of Liam DeLaney’s confession…

Kady

The coolness of the steel chair penetrated the white fitted T-shirt on my back as I pressed against the backrest, feeling the tiny holes as I did so.

Everything was a mess. In less than two months, I had begun two different lives, and now I was typing out a text message to Laurie, keeping the situation short and sweet as I begun a third:

Me:
I can’t take the lies and betrayal anymore.

I refuse to.

A second later, the handset chimed:

Laurie:
What’s happened?
Where are you going?

What should I do with Ent-icing?

I simply typed back:

Me:
I have faith in you, keep it running. I’m at Logan.

I’m going home.

Dropping the handset into my purse, I heaved myself from the seat and strolled the small distance to the large, panoramic window ahead of me. Planes were being prepped while others were taking off. The pain in my heart and the rolling of my stomach as I watched the huge metal birds climb into the air made my eyes water. I thought of everything I was leaving behind. A life that wasn’t solely full of darkness, there were rays of light strong enough to pierce through those darkened clouds. But how many times I could I allow others to use my life as their own motion picture?

Falsehoods and disloyalty is all I could concentrate on at that moment. It was the only way I was going to find the strength to get on that flight and start my life over. Again.

As I gazed out of the window, the sky painted in calming pastel colors as the sun dipped, the final boarding flight for D.C crackled and echoed over the speaker. A part of me was scared about having what remained of the sunlight taken away. It’s harder to find optimism when you’re surrounded by darkness.

My leather biker jacket and duffle bag were snatched from the seat I’d occupied only a short time ago, and with a deep, steading breath, I made my way to the terminal.

Boarding pass and my ID in hand, I waited in the queue of impatient passengers when I heard it…it wasn’t my name, but a name I had come used to being called. My heart was hammering in my chest as I turned abruptly, searching the sea of people to find the source.

“KATY…”

“Walker?”

“KATY!”

“WALKER!” I shouted back. The disapproving clucking of passengers in the queue behind me was easily ignored when I saw him pushing his way through the throng. “Jesus Christ, I found you,” he panted, engulfing me in his arms. The ground was miles away from my feet as he took hold of me and kissed me with a passion and desperation which matched his love for me. Unfazed by prying eyes, his desperate hand fisted into my hair.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’. I was scared; I just wanted to protect you. But I couldn’t let you go, I just can’t. Please, stay,” his mouth was unremitting, claiming me and swallowing any words I could free between his statements.

My arms were wrapped so tightly around his neck, I never wanted to let go.

“Stay with me, Kady. I love you. I’ve always loved you, please, stay. Take me back…I don’t want you to leave. Come home with me.”

“Walker, I––”

I barely heard a woman beckoning me with, “Miss…Miss…” Blinking my way back to reality, the woman at the terminal was holding my ID and pass back to me. I peeked behind me. The passengers’ unhappy and impatient faces gazed back in a perfect file. My heart was being fed through a meat grinder as I was met by no prying eyes, no warm, strong arms around me, and no caring, urgent lips. No Walker…

The bag containing every possession I owned was stuffed into the overhead compartment as I took my window seat. Clicking the belt into place, the hostess went through the usual checks and demonstrations as the pilot talked about conditions and flight time. However, my attention couldn’t have been as far away from that topic if it tried. A part of me hoped the plane would crash and be done with me because the pain I was feeling, knowing I was leaving Walker, knowing that I had called him by his given name before I left, and knowing that I promised that I’d never leave, was a torture I wish I could rid myself of. And if death was the only way to do that, so be it.

Taxiing down the runway, the G-force pressing against my body as we took off was nothing in comparison to the desertion of my heart as it was torn from my chest, and I watched Boston become just a memory, with warm tears streaking my cheeks.

I hadn’t called anyone to ask if I could come home. I knew it wouldn’t be needed.
The door is always open for you, Kady,
were the departing words from my mom as I left for Boston all those years ago. And so, after an hour and a half flight, and an hour drive from Ronald Reagan International, it was finally dark, and the cab had finally pulled up along the sidewalk of the white house in Maryland, which held over eighteen years of memories.

“Thank you,” I muttered to the driver, handing him the fare along with a reasonable tip, and unfolded myself from the car.

Baskets hanging from the streetlights harboring an array of flowers, I was standing on the sidewalk, gazing at the swerving walkway with blossoms on either side, separating the front lawn, to the oversized white house with black shutters and double garage. With all my worldly possessions in my bag, I strolled up the walkway feeling like Dorothy trailing along the Yellow Brick Road. It was noticing the presence of the old basketball hoop in the driveway, which caused me to smile, remembering the many games Dad and I would play before dinner.

Sucking in a deep breath, my mind raced at the thought of: what was I even going to tell them? I couldn’t tell them everything as it was, and what’s more, I didn’t want to. Yet, I knew Mom could always spot if I was keeping something secret or lying from a mile away. Mother’s instinct I guess.

Either way, I decided to cross that bridge when I came to it, and before I could back out, I lifted my hand to press the bell. Hearing it chiming inside the property, I hung my head, focusing all my attention onto my boots. Within a few moments, the door was pulled open, the light from the capacious entry hall slicing through the night and down the walkway.

I lifted my head with sad, reddened eyes. “Chickpea,” Dad murmured when we locked eyes. And that alone was enough to demolish the dam I had in place.

“Can I come home, Dad?” my voice was feather light, the salty residue of the days’ worth of tears lingered on my lips as a new batch flowed from my eyes.

He didn’t give me an answer. His arms opened for me, and the familiar scent of his cologne as I stepped into his hold was the only answer I needed. “Judy,” he called, still rocking us soothingly, planting a kiss on my head.

My mother’s footsteps echoing through the spacious downstairs, followed by the rushing of padding, bare feet were heard, nonetheless, he didn’t let me go and for that I was thankful. Together, Mom and Brittany breathed my name with weighted relief, as their arms circled both me and my dad.

I have no idea how long we stayed there in a comfortable, gratified silence, with only my soft sobbing sounds being drowned out against the woven fabric of my daddy’s shirt. After what felt like a lifetime of tears streaming down my cheeks and the lump in my throat easing somewhat, I was finally asked, “Where’s your belongings, chickpea?”

I pulled away from his warmth, causing Mom and my baby sister to fall away from me as I bent down and collected my bag. “This is all I own,” I muttered.

“This bag is all you own?” Mom asked, incredulous, with a disapproving shake of her head. “Marcus, we must take her out clothes shopping tomorrow. No daughter of mine is living out of a gym bag.”

“Judy…” Dad swallowed me up in his arms once again. Knowing that in the state I was in, my mother’s well-defined care could be easily be misconstrued, his large, mature hands successfully managed to muffle the voices around me by making a protective covering over the arch of my ears. Kissing my head again, his hands slipped to my shoulders.

“It’s so great to have you home, Sis. Here, give me the bag and I’ll take it up to your room.”

“No,” I fought back, pulling on one of the brown leather handles. As stupid and childish as it sounded, it was my bag, a bag which was resting on Walker’s bed only a mere few hours ago and I didn’t want it to be sullied with anyone else’s fingers.

With grave eyes, Brittany, amongst her faded pink hair, reluctantly pulled back.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” how could I even put it into words what I wanted to say? I don’t want you touching my bag because the last person who touched it was the man who tore my heart from my chest?

Planting a tender kiss on my forehead, it was as though I was transported back to that little girl I once was; the one who’s hero was always her Daddy. “It’s okay, chickpea. Your mom made pasta bake and I’m sure there’s enough to feed five thousand in that dish. I can fix you some up.”

As generous as the offer had been, the last thing I wanted was food. It was roughly 10:00 p.m., and all I wanted to do was crawl into a soft bed, hide under the comforter and allow the rest of my miserable, pathetic excuse of a life to just pass me by without my knowledge.

I escaped the clutches of my family, the family I had cut from my life because of a man who I believed loved me and would look after me. Well, one thing I now know is for certain; it’s true what they say: blood is thicker than water.

With my duffle bag hooked over the crook of my arm, I made my way slowly up the staircase, holding onto the white gloss balustrade which held even more memories. How a balustrade could hold memories is beyond me, but mine did. The times I would slide down it, sidesaddle, and fall into Dad’s awaiting arms, my small prancing on the tiny landing before the case continued to the upper level in my purple and yellow graduation robe, it all held a memory.

The cream carpet had my feet sinking into its luxurious, sandy depth with each bare foot step I took to the end of the long corridor, passing Mom and Dad’s bedroom, Brittany’s and the home office, alongside two full bathroom suites. Considering each of the bedrooms consisted of an en-suite, it baffled me how many bathrooms one house seemed to need.

When I opened the door at the end of the corridor, I stepped inside to see that nothing had been changed in over eight years. The walls were still painted the same sage green they had been when I was in high school. The queen size bed rested against the back wall with a panoramic window separated into three panels opposite the doorway, just like back in the house I had come to call, ‘The house of no name’.

Strolling over the gray carpet, I scuffed my feet into each velvet fiber as I approached the chaise-lounge at the foot of the bed, the black, wrought iron ends displaying an intricate pattern for the cream cushion adorning it.

The bag, with a deep sigh, was lowered onto the chaise-lounge, and then I undid the zipper. The noise alone stirred happier moments and gave life to recollections of the first night he undid the zipper of my dress, the night my memory flooded back…

That was enough to prompt yet more salty moisture in eyes.

Come on, Kady, you’re stronger than this. You can do this. You did it once, you did it twice, now you can do it again
, I gave myself a stern pep-talk as I headed for the en-suite bathroom.

I swore the bathroom alone was larger than Walker’s entire apartment. A vanity unit and mirror was spread across the immediate length of the widest part of the room, a white corner tub with golden faucets, was adjacent to the ridiculously large shower with a glass and gold surrounding. The two fluffy white bath towels were threaded through the railing attached to the glass shower door, while a lilac fluffy robe was unhooked from the door.

Considering the capaciousness of the room, it took a while before the steam from the running shower managed to alter most of the area into a dense, stifling haze. I couldn’t tell you why I was waiting for so long to enter that torrent. I was simply standing before the large white vanity, watching intently as my reflection began to blur with condensation, all the while contemplating the man who held my heart and emotions over four hundred miles away.

What was he doing now? How was he feeling?

I peeled my badass clothing from my body and tossed it into the wicker hamper in the corner of the room, then continued to stare at my body. Lifting my fingers to my lips, I smoothed over the flesh where the remnants of Walker’s saliva remained. I recalled the way his lips pushed and encouraged my own to open up for him, allowing him entry for our tongues to demonstrate exactly how we felt…an erotic dance which I wanted, and was certain, would last a lifetime…

How wrong I was.  How many mistakes can a single person make in one life?

Visually scouring over what was left of my body’s reflection through the fog, I memorized every touch, every stroke, every moment of worship…every pain and suffering that he helped me through in a way which I always found was sacred to us…

Tears threatened.

With a painstaking outbreath, I turned on my heel and slid the glass door open before stepping inside and allowing the scalding stream to cleanse me of my tribulations. I lifted my head back, each piercing, stabbing droplet rapidly crashing against my forehead still did nothing to calm me, and before I could stop myself, my own tears were mixing with the cleansing torrent. If only those tears could take the hurt that left a hole in my heart down the drain with them.