Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
ELIZABETH
The following weeks fly by, and before I know it, Halloween is only a few days away. Fallon’s frat is having a costume party, and I promised him that Ryder and I would come. Meredith took me costume shopping last week. She found this gorgeous angel costume with white feathered wings. I’m going to be a blue Morpho butterfly. But there’s a twist. Other than my wings and antennae, it’s all body paint. Meredith’s dorm mate, Sara, is an art student, and she’s going to do it for me. It will be the first time I have shown my scars or my butterfly tattoos in public. I know they’ll be covered with body paint, but I’ll still know they’re there. I’m planning on wearing a sheer lingerie set to cover my girlie bits because let’s face it, new Elizabeth might be bolder, but she’s not crazy.
Sitting on the couch and staring out the window, I get lost in thought. A lot has happened in a month. Jayson and Ryder continue to circle one another, but there have been no more fights. We went to Julien’s first soccer game of the collegiate season. He led CU to a two-to-zero victory. Elijah plans to propose next month, and I can’t wait.
Ryder and I have been hanging out with Fallon more, mostly at the track. Meredith, Trevor, and I continue to meet every Wednesday evening for our study group. Meredith swears that she’s not dating Trevor, but she did confess to sleeping with him again, and this time he was sober.
But the big news? Last week, I officially asked Ryder to move in with me, even though he never went back to the condo. It was the formality of it all. He bought me a standup piano the other day. It’s sitting in the living room across from the bay window. I’ve been writing music again, and it feels good. Like a missing piece of my broken jigsaw puzzle has snapped into place. One down, a million more to go.
I’ve had no more memory blackouts. I think Ryder keeps the nightmares at bay. I love falling asleep in his arms and waking up to his gorgeous brown eyes. We’ve made love in every room and on every surface of the apartment. He tells me he loves me every day. I tell him the same.
Elijah’s talk of marriage proposals and a future wedding has me thinking about my future with Ryder. That leads to thoughts of having children, which makes me wonder if I still can. I don’t know how bad the infection was or if the C-section left any permanent damage that would prevent me from getting pregnant again. I made an appointment with an obstetrician. I hope she’ll be able to give me some answers and appease my worries.
I wish I could ask Daniel more about what happened, but I’m not ready. I’ve spoken to Drew to make sure he’s doing okay. Chemo has been going well, but it has taken a toll on his body.
The detective tried to get in touch with me again, but I deleted his message and didn’t call him back. The guys convinced me to come home with them for Thanksgiving. I reluctantly agreed, only because I wanted to be there when Elijah proposed.
I know it’s time. If I want that future with Ryder, if I want to take the next big step with him, I need to get closure about my past and about that night. Jayson wants to tell his parents about Elizabeth Ann while we’re there, then we’ll fly to Seattle to visit her gravesite and meet our daughter for the first time.
Sometimes at night, when I’m lying in bed, I swear I can feel a baby kick deep inside me. Just a tiny phantom flutter. On those nights I cry. On those nights, Ryder holds me tight and sings to me.
“Hey, babe?” Ryder calls from down the hall.
“Yeah?”
“Fallon just texted. He wants to show me the new car he bought. Want to come with?”
I look at the stack of textbooks laid out on the coffee table. “I have a calc test tomorrow that I need to study for. You go on.”
He walks into the living room and joins me on the couch. “You sure? I don’t have to go.”
I brush a kiss over his mouth. “I’m sure. Go enjoy your playtime.”
“Cars are manly stuff, not playtime,” he says, lying me back onto the cushions and kissing me. “I’ll be home by ten at the latest. Call me if you need me.”
I push him off me with a smile. “I’ll be fine. My face is going to be shoved in this textbook for the next couple of hours.”
He walks backward out of the living room. “I love you.”
I blow him a kiss, and he pretends to catch it.
“Love you more. Tell Fallon I said hi.”
The front door closes, and I reach for my phone.
Me: What time are you and Sara coming over on Sunday?
Sunday is Halloween.
Firecracker: She said it would take about four hours to paint you. Noon okay?
Me: Sounds good.
Me: Ryder is out with Fallon tonight. Want to come over and study together?
Firecracker: Going out with a few girls from the dorm. Want to join us?
Me: Thanks, but I’ll pass. Have fun!
There’s a text from Jayson. I really should change his screen name.
ScaryGuy: Place is too quiet. What are you doing?
Julien is in Florida with his team. They’re playing in the Harvest Cup, and he won’t be back until Saturday.
Me: Staring at limits.
Calculus III has been my arch-nemesis all semester. The professor makes his TA teach the class most days, and that guy is bad. I mean really bad. He doesn’t explain how to work out the problems; he expects you to already know how. He refuses to answer questions during class, saying that we have to make an appointment with the professor. He spends most of the time during the scheduled weekly help session playing games on his phone. In order to keep up, I have to study three times as hard.
ScaryGuy: Want some company?
Me: Let me see how much I get done. Can I text you later?
ScaryGuy: NP. Don’t have any plans. I’ll be here all night.
When I open my textbook, another origami star falls out. Jayson must have put it in there this morning during breakfast. I always read them. I know I shouldn’t. What I should do is tell Jayson to stop giving them to me.
“ If love was like time, mine would be eternity. ”
I sigh and get up. Going into my bedroom, I open my closet door. The banker’s box where I keep the other paper stars is way in the back. Moving things aside to get to it, my eyes land on the other boxes. The ones I consider to be Pandora’s boxes. There are three of them. Eighteen years of my life shoved into three boxes. Eighteen years of lost memories relegated to three insignificant cubes of cardboard.
I pull one out. Then another, then the third one. They barely weigh anything.
With shaking hands, I slowly peel the packing tape off the first box with my fingernails. I stare at those two damn flaps at the top for several minutes, then carefully open them and peer inside.
The musty odor of old paper assails my nose. I grab the second box and rip the tape off. I do the same to the third box, then I turn each one over, dumping their contents onto my bedroom floor.
There are pictures and papers, tiny trinkets, and sheets of music. I look at the pictures first. Most of them I recognize from all the pictures the boys have shown me. I take out a few of me and Ryder so I can create a memory board with them. There are several spiral notebooks and three-ring binders. I pick one up and open it. It’s filled with hand-written poetry. I notice the name Hailey scribbled at the top of each. There are dozens of them. Some written in childish penmanship, others in elegant cursive. The first one is titled: “Elizabeth and Her Princes.” I read it. I read them all. I don’t realize I’m crying until I see the tear stains soaking into the paper of the poem I’m reading. The ink on the paper runs as my tears dissolve the words.
I pick up a binder. This one is a scrapbook. There are drawings and love hearts all over it. The front says “ALL OUR NEXT TIMES” in big, bold lettering. I open the cover. The pages are filled with notes, letters, pictures, and music. Dried flowers, butterfly cutouts, seashells, a bag of black sand, and pieces of ribbon. The scrapbook chronicles my love story with Jayson. From the night he first kissed me and told me he loved me to our first date, to the night we made love for the first time, to senior year of high school, and everything in between.
Something shiny catches my eye. It’s half-hidden under a photograph. I flip the photo over. It’s another one of Ryder and me. We’re standing together in what looks like a field. We’re in front of a dirt bike, and Ryder is holding a helmet under one arm, his dark hair sticking up at the top. Our pinkies are linked. I smile as I touch the photograph. My gorgeous, handsome man. I place the photo with the others of him and me.
I look down at the shiny object that was hidden underneath. It’s a ring, like a wedding band. I pick it up. Four small red rubies wink at me. I turn the ring over and over.
I see the inscription inside.
I see Jayson kneeling in front of me at the Eiffel Tower.
Wait, I dreamed that before, didn’t I?
My breath comes out in strained puffs, and I feel like I can’t get any oxygen in. The red rubies begin to melt, turning into small blobs that look like drops of blood. As if it burned me, I throw the ring across the room and hear a metallic clink when it hits the dresser.
My vision tunnels, the light in my bedroom fading to black. I call out to Ryder. Ryder will save me. He always saves me. But it’s not Ryder that comes for me. It’s him .
Oh god, my head. It hurts. I struggle to open my eyes. Why do I hurt so much? I try to move my hands but can’t. I try to move my legs and arms and get nothing. Fear. Panic. Why can’t I move? I scream and scream, but no sound comes out. There’s something covering my mouth.
Oh god. Oh god. Help! Someone, please help!
My senses click on, one at a time. I’m in a chair, my arms and ankles bound. Duct tape covers my mouth. I’m in the house.
No. NoNoNo!
Hailey! Mom! Dad!
Get free. Save your family. Do something!
With every ounce of strength I can muster, I buck against my bindings. The chair teeters precariously, but I don’t stop.
Get free. Save your family.
The chair topples sideways with me strapped to it. My shoulder and head hit the floor, and intense pain like none I’ve ever felt before detonates inside my skull.
“Oh, good. You’re awake.”
Black tennis shoes appear in my blurred vision. Hands roughly lift me upright.
“I’m running out of time,” the voice says.
Terror fills me as the sharp edge of a knife is dragged up the middle of my chest like a caress, sliding between my breasts and under my chin. The tip of the blade nicks my jugular, and I jump in response.
“Look what you made me do, Elizabeth.”
How does he know my name?
I can already feel blood trickling down my neck, the small slice of skin stinging.
“I said look!” he screams.
I don’t know what he wants me to look at. What is happening? Why is he doing this? Where are my parents? Where’s Hailey? I try to capture images of his face, what he’s wearing, anything that I can give to the police if I’m able to make it out of here alive.
He’s tall. Not as tall as Jayson, more Ryder’s height. He’s wearing all black and has a black face mask covering his hair and face. However, even with the dim light, I’m able to see the color of his irises. His pupils are blown, but the rims around each are visible. One light blue, one brown.
I whimper and try to tell him that I don’t know what he’s talking about. He fists my hair with a severe grasp and jerks my head at an odd angle. I try to look away from the utter horror he forces me to see, but he won’t let me.
Lying motionless on the living room floor are my parents. There’s enough light coming in through the separation of the curtains from the streetlamps outside for me to see the carpet is painted a dark crimson. My mother’s vacant, cloudy eyes stare at me, unblinking, my father next to her, his face I can’t see. I scream behind the duct tape, thrashing around wildly, desperate to get to them, to save them, even though I already know they’re both dead.
“Now you see, my sweet Elizabeth. But that’s not all I have to show you.”
He releases my face and walks over to the pantry and opens it. I hear a loud thump and then a noise like something is being dragged across the floor. The man appears in front of me again, his hand curled around Hailey’s hair as he slides her limp, naked body in front of me and tosses her down on the floor at my feet. Her body is covered in cuts, bruises, and burn marks, and if she didn’t make a tiny moaning sound when she hit the floor, I would have thought she was dead, too.
I vomit inside my mouth, but there’s nowhere for it to go. I swallow it back down—the burning, acrimonious taste making me gag and want to vomit all over again.
The man starts talking frantically, his words a jumble my mind has trouble processing. I ignore him and focus on Hailey. Get up! Get up, Hailey! My muffled words plead to her. Get up!
The man bends down and flips Hailey over onto her stomach. Her muscles twitch, but she barely moves, her skin sticky with congealed blood. I’m watching my sister die right before my eyes and am helpless to do anything about it.
Hot, overpowering rage rises, aimed at the man in front of me as he hovers over her. If I can just get free, I will rip every bone from his body.
A yellowish-orange spotlight passes over Hailey’s pallid, blood-streaked skin as the early morning sun filters through the windows. Ryder said he would come by this morning. Ryder will save me. I just have to hold on until he gets here.
“Do you see, Elizabeth? Your pathetic sister could never take your place. You’re my butterfly. My beautiful broken butterfly.”
He’s not making any sense.
If I thought seeing my parents dead on the floor and my sister’s life draining out of her right in front of me was enough to break me, what he does next obliterates me, leaving nothing but a husk of myself remaining.
The man lowers his zipper and climbs on top of Hailey as she lies prone on her stomach, not moving. This is not happening. This is not happening. This can’t be happening. I shut my eyes, not able to watch him defile my sister in the most horrific way.
“Elizabeth,” he coos.
I shake my head. I won’t watch. I won’t.
“ELIZABETH!”
My eyes pop open.
He plunges a knife into Hailey’s side, over and over.
My mind fractures. I scream so loud and so long and so hard that my vocal cords shatter. Tears pour down my face, clouding my vision and mixing with the blood covering my neck.
“Shh,” he says, stroking my hair. “I’m almost done.”
“Don’t touch me! Don’t you fucking touch me!” But nothing comes out. I have no voice. He stole my voice.
I whimper when he slides the knife across my leg bindings. He’s going to do to me what he did to my sister. A second of clarity hits me. This may be my only chance to escape.
“Don’t you see how much I love you, Elizabeth? She wanted to be you. She could never be you. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Once my legs are unbound, I rear back and smash my head into his face as hard as I can. Stars explode behind my eyes. Jesus, fuck!
I hear him yowl in pain as dizziness swamps me. Using my legs, I push down with all my might, trying to stand and run, but my wrists are still taped to the chair. The man grabs my ankle, and I careen into the dining room table, striking the side of my face against the wooden edge, the chair shattering beneath me.
“Why, Elizabeth? Why did you do that?” the man screams at me.
He sits on my chest and pins me down, and I lose it. I fight with everything in me, kicking, biting, thrashing. Voices come from outside, and I try to scream, but only a whisper comes out, then a gurgling noise like coffee percolating. My head lolls to the side, and the man pulls the knife out of me.
He croons to me in a soft voice, “Hush now, sweet Elizabeth. It will all be better soon.” He slides the knife into me again, twisting it. Ripping the duct tape off my mouth, he kisses me softly. “My beautiful broken butterfly.”
When the voices get louder, he climbs off me. I hear his footsteps running toward the back of the house.
My body is floating, but I feel no pain. I try to take in a labored breath, but it’s too hard to pull in air. My eyes track to the dining room window, searching for Jayson’s window, but the old oak tree is in the way.
Jayson. I see my swing and remember the Valentine’s Day he gave it to me. The night he made love to me for the very first time. My gorgeous silver-eyed boy. The boy who owns all my firsts. Memories of Jayson and all our next times float in rapid succession across my vision. I think of my jar of stars as I try to touch the chain around my neck, wanting to feel my promise ring.
Daddy. I feel my dad’s arms wrap around me. I’m sitting in his lap. His hands cover mine as he helps me pluck the guitar strings. I hear his deep voice singing to me. I hear him call me Puddin’.
Mom. I can feel my mom’s love. She wraps it around my body just like she wrapped me in hugs every day. Her soft whispers telling me it’s going to be all right.
Hailey. My sweet baby sister. I try to slide my hand across the blood-slicked floor to reach her.
My vision fades out, then back in. A gurgling cough erupts up my throat, and I taste something thick and metallic. I blink.
Julien. So handsome and brave, his smiling face hanging upside down from the tree branch in front of our old tree fort. Julien in his gray tux as he dips me in front of the Eiffel Tower. My best friend.
“Elizabeth! Are you in here?”
That’s my sweet Ryder’s voice. I picture us in his car, the wind in my hair, his golden, amber eyes always filled with love when he looked at me. How free I feel when I’m with him. He kissed me tonight. He said he loved me.
My beautiful, wonderful boys. My three princes. I’ve lived a lifetime of happiness with them by my side. They are my family. Wait, no. Not all my family. My parents. My sister. Gone. He killed them. Why did he kill them?
There’s a tug on my torso, and I hear Ryder’s voice, faint and far away, calling my name. My eyes are too heavy to open, and my limbs won’t work. Jayson is here with him. I need to tell them before the darkness takes me away. I need more time. I can’t leave them. I’m not ready.
Ryder’s frantic eyes swim in front of my vision.
With my last, gasping breath, I rasp out, “I love you.”