Providing Saint with just the bare minimum details about what happened all those years ago made me crave walking into that lake in front of the cabin and never coming out. Reliving that summer will most definitely be more complicated than I ever imagined. Not even my therapist knows everything—only what’s shown in my medical reports. She has yet to be successful in getting me to open up about it, and I’m unsure whether it’s because I don’t trust her or if something deeper is going on.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Saint grunts as we walk down Main Street towards a tiny coffee shop with a decorative elf holding a coffee mug and cupcake just to the side of the door.
“It’s hard,” I say as he opens the door for me. A few heads turn because we’re obviously tourists in this small town, and Saint looks like he’s come to reap their souls with his menacing stare and constant scowl. “Being here, wanting to find some spark of joy, and only remembering how much teenage me would have loved it.” Thankfully, the customers have gone back to what they were doing, ignoring us as we step to the counter to place an order.
Saint orders vanilla bean hot chocolates with whipped cream for both of us, knowing I have a hard time speaking to strangers. Once we are handed our hot drinks, we go back outside and walk silently towards the stables, which are at the end of the town’s main street and filled with working horses, coming and going as they’re harnessed for sleigh rides around town.
The animals are beautiful and curious, each popping its head out of its stall to see who has entered its home.
“You don’t do that anymore.” Saint’s surly tone causes me to look up at him as I rub my hand along a horse’s nose.
“Do what?” My brows pull together in confusion.
“Ride.”
Halting my movements, I tense, and the horse senses it, displaying their displeasure by backing off.
“It hurt too much afterwards.” A feral sound that can only be compared to a wolf about to attack emanates from Saint after my hushed confession.
“Afternoon, folks. How can I help you?” An older gentleman steps out from somewhere, startling me into jumping behind Saint. He's so large, his body blocks me from view. I press my head into his back, and he handles the encounter once again while I feel like the world's most useless human being.
My timidity abhors me. So afraid all the time. Everything about my life is blanketed in fear and soaked with defeat. I can’t say I was ever all that outgoing before my attack, but at least I was curious and adventurous. I wanted to explore the world beyond Pensacola. Travel and learn about life. Now, hiding from everything and everyone is my default state. I hate it, and myself. I hate those boys with every fiber of my being.
“Does she want to feed them?” My ears perk up at the man’s question.
Saint moves to the side, a bag of something in his hand as he stares down at me for an answer. Nodding quickly, I offer a half smile.
After being handed a few carrots for each of the horses, we’re told to take our time and make sure to close the barn door when we leave.
I offer one of the veggies to the first horse I pet. She appears happy and bobs her head up and down in thanks. As I move on to the next, then the next, before finding a fourth, I decide to give Saint what he’s been asking for.
“Jeremy, Caleb, Holt, and Craig.” He doesn’t need to ask who they are, and I know he won’t need last names to find them. I also realize that by sharing them, I’ve approved their death warrants because Saint and Nolan won’t allow them a breath longer than necessary now.
He silently thanks me by pressing the heat of his body into my back from behind, with one hand on my hip and the other on my shoulder. I’m uncertain whether their deaths will make life easier for me to handle, but hopefully, it will prevent them from causing future harm to other girls.
“Can we go now?” The vulnerability flowing through my body is a struggle because it’s like speaking the boogeyman’s name when you’re a little kid and expecting him to jump out of the closet or from under your bed.
Without a word, Saint leads me to the exit, where he secures the door before we head back to his rental. The sun is bright in the sky, and the drive ethereal, with fresh snow on the ground and frost on tree branches. It’s a picturesque wonderland scene. The beauty takes my breath away, reminding me how ugly I am.
“What would you do if I died?” I ask, unwilling to look at Saint. The scowl on his face and the rage vibrating off him suffocate me. His reaction is precisely as expected. He wouldn’t be the only one, either.
“You’re not killing yourself, Lake.” His agonized tone is not entirely unforeseen. The fact that it overshadows everything else is surprising, however.
“I’m never left alone enough to even try.” The thoughts do consume me, though. Many times, it’s all that flashes through my mind.
The future remains painstakingly elusive, and I’m not certain I even see one. Going through the motions is a way of life. Nothing means anything to me, and I’m so tired of just surviving. Maybe if my life had always been this way, I would feel differently, but I remember what it was like to smile and be happy. To plan for a future with a career and children and Saint as my husband.
This constant bleak feeling is too much, too tough to escape from. I’m Dorothy, wandering down the yellow brick road. There’s an end to the suffering, but it’s never what I think it will be. There’s no wizard or good witch to help me find my way again.
Saint’s silence says so much more than if he were to speak. He’ll watch me even closer now. He’ll want to terminate my tormentors sooner. There’s a slight chance I might never be allowed to leave his side again.
A decade ago, I wouldn’t have minded. Now, my brain just can’t free itself from that night. Everything seems like a core memory. When I close my eyes, the heat of blood trickling from open wounds is just there, never-ending, always traumatizing, and if I get lost enough in the past, their whispers torment my ears while they do what they want with me.
As the car stops, I’m jolted back to the present and our little cabin on the lake—the one where I was supposed to feel rejuvenated and like a new person. Shades of emotions come and go, but the feeling of dirtiness never strays.
Saint opens my door and patiently waits for me. “I’m so dirty, Saint. I can never wash it off.” No tears remain in me to fall, and it throws him off.
“If you give up on me, Lake, who’s going to keep me human?” Regret and defeat fill the muted question, leaving me panicked because I would never want him to feel anything less than whole and perfect. “I won’t ask you to live for me because that wouldn’t be fair to either of us, but if you lived for you, then you could be mine too.”
