Chapter 15 #2
A grin pulls on my lips. “You didn’t try the punch? ”
“No. But I can see that you did.” She assesses me up and down, as if the stripes on my shirt will give away the number of glasses I’ve inhaled over the past two hours. “Be careful. You look like a hot mess.”
I run a hand through my mop of brown hair, noting that the top two buttons of my dress shirt are unhooked and only one sleeve is rolled up past my elbow.
I think Mandy made me wear a Santa bowtie, but I have no idea where that went.
“You look sad,” I counter, taking in her vacant eyes that are missing the sparkle I’ve come to love so much.
“I said I’m fine.”
“Well, maybe I can help you be more than fine.” I nudge her shoulder with my own. “I sorta got you a Christmas present.”
Those eyes widen in surprise, her lips parting, pink and glossy. “What? Why?”
“Because you got me something last year. It’s my turn.”
Cora lowers her chin to her chest, picking at the threads on the comforter. “I didn’t do much shopping this year, so I didn’t get you anything. I feel like a jerk.”
“It’s okay. One of these years the stars will align, and we’ll both get each other something at the same time.”
She nibbles on her lip. My gaze drifts to her mouth on instinct before I redirect it back up, suddenly very aware of the way her bare thigh is smashed up against my slacks. I should probably scoot away, but the alcohol keeps me rooted in place.
I reach into my pocket and pull out a small box. “The wrapping isn’t as good as yours. Don’t judge.”
“I always judge.” Cora finally allows a smile to slip as she takes the gift from my hand. “Well, it’s too small to be an embarrassing holiday vibrator, at least.”
“Is it, though?”
She laughs. She fucking laughs and it’s the best gift ever.
“Is something going to jump out at me?” she questions, twisting the box between her hands as she studies it over her lap. “Does it bite?”
“No and no.”
Cora doesn’t look convinced, but she begins to peel away the paper, corner by corner, with careful fingers.
When she pulls the top off the little white box, her breath catches as she stares down into the cotton stuffing.
She’s staring at the gift inside, but I’m staring at her.
I’m watching the emotions climb up her chest, then her neck, landing in her throat and releasing with a squeaky sigh.
Her red-tipped fingers graze the heart pendant attached to a gold chain .
“It’s beautiful, Dean. It’s… too much.” Cora glances up at me with misted eyes, then looks back down at the necklace. She removes it from the box, letting the delicate chain dance over her fingers as she holds it up and gazes at the gilded heart.
“Open it. It’s a locket.”
Cora blinks, surprised. I can see her fingers tremble as she unclasps the two pieces of gold and fixes her eyes to the inner contents.
Still Beating .
She doesn’t say anything. I wonder if maybe she doesn’t understand, so I start to explain. “I was thinking you can wear it over your heart as a constant reminder of everything you survived. As long as it’s still beating, you’re okay.”
She is still silent.
I’m starting to doubt the gift, thinking maybe it is too much. Maybe it’s too personal. Too triggering.
But then Cora throws herself into my lap, her arms around my neck, and I feel her tears slip underneath my shirt collar. “Thank you,” she whispers in a ragged breath. “It’s perfect.”
The necklace remains clutched in a tight fist as her tears continue to fall, hard and relentless, wracking her body with everything she tries so hard to keep inside.
She doesn’t need to pretend with me, though. She doesn’t need to hide.
I’m here, and I see her—every scar, every flaw, every broken, hollow piece.
And I understand.
Blood. Blood everywhere.
So much goddamn blood .
I feel it spatter my skin and I taste it in my mouth, but I keep going. Flying fists, cracking skull, brain matter. Dreadful, painful moans… death .
He needs to pay for what he did to her. He needs to die. I promised I would snuff his worthless life away for touching her, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.
No remorse. No going back.
It’s over .
I think I hear her voice, far away, calling for me to come back to her.
“Stop. He’s dead.”
Cora breaks through and reality sinks its teeth into me as I stare down at the grisly crime I’ve just committed. Dear God, it’s like something out of a horror film.
A fitting end to a gruesome tale.
I did this. I fucking did this. I murdered a man in cold blood with nothing but my tattered, dirty knuckles.
The motherfucker deserved it.
I’m about to jump back, get as far away from this bloodbath as I can, but then his eyes fly open. Terrifying white eyes with irises so black, so barbaric, they almost skin me alive. Earl lifts himself up on his haunches, his wide, bulbous eyes sunken into mangled flesh.
Then he reaches out his hands and curls them around my throat, his grip vice-like. Impenetrable. He snarls through broken teeth, blood misting my face as he smothers me. “That’s a very bad dog.”
It’s not over. It’s not over.
It will never be over.
I launch myself into a sitting position, slicked head to toe in sweat, my breathing coming quick and uneven.
I throw my legs over the side of the bed, my hands squeezing the bedsheets, and I vaguely hear my ringtone going off in the distance as my thoughts begin to find their way back to reality.
As I search for my cell phone, lost amongst the dampened sheets, I realize my head is still spinning from the alcohol.
Mandy dropped me off at home around eleven P.M., and I promptly chugged a quarter bottle of vodka before passing out well after midnight.
Fuck , I feel like shit.
I locate the ringing phone and see that it’s Cora’s name lighting up the face.
It’s also two o’clock in the morning.
My heart starts to race as I accept the call and slur into the receiver, “Cora? Where’re you?”
“Dean.”
Oh, hell. She sounds like she’s crying. “Are you okay, Corabelle?”
Her sniffles are evident on the other end, accompanied by small whimpers. “I had a horrible nightmare. I can’t shake it and I’m scared.”
“Do you need me?”
I don’t even hesitate to ask. If she needs me, I’m there.
There’s a catch in her breath, and then, “Yes. ”
“Gimme fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m stumbling out of an Uber in front of her small bungalow, almost tripping over my feet as I jog clumsily up the stone walkway. My forehead falls against the turquoise door, and I start pounding my fist against it as I call out, “Cora, it’s me. Open up.”
I hear her footsteps on the other side, and when she flings the door open, I almost fall forward.
I catch myself on the frame, drinking in the sight of her standing there in nothing but a braless, white tank top and cotton panties.
But she doesn’t seem to give a shit that she’s half-naked in front of me, because she steps backwards to allow me inside, her eyes red and bloodshot, her feet as unsteady as mine.
I close the door behind me, unable to keep my gaze from roving over the body I’ve come to know so well.
She doesn’t try to hide from me.
She knows I’ve seen her far more stripped down than this.
But it’s her eyes that do me in. They look glassy and lifeless and utterly haunted. “Corabelle…”
Her bottom lip quivers as we stare at each other, only a few feet apart. “I took sleeping pills. They’re supposed to help me pass out and forget, but… the nightmares, Dean. I can’t even… God, they’re so horrible.”
I start to move forward, her tears a magnet to my aching heart. “Come here.”
Cora doesn’t falter. She runs towards me, closing the gap between us and weaving her arms around my neck.
I don’t hesitate either. Like instinct, like it’s the only thing to do, I reach under her thighs and lift her up until she wraps her legs around my waist and buries her face into the crook of my neck.
I start walking. I carry her through every darkened room, down the short hallway, and into her bedroom.
We collapse onto the bed, still holding on, still desperate for that spark of warmth that only seems to ignite when we’re together.
We situate ourselves onto the queen-sized bed, and I only let go of her to pull the blankets up over our bodies, then my arms envelop her once again.
She’s stoned on sleeping pills and I’m drunk off my ass, and we’re messy, damaged humans clinging to each other as we battle through the storm together, but it’s okay because we’re together .
Cora curls herself into me, close enough that I’m certain she can feel my heartbeat radiate right through her as she drifts to sleep. I wonder if she can feel how broken it is.
As the alcohol haze consumes me and I begin to fade out, I lean down to kiss her forehead, chasing away a rogue strand of hair with my fingers, then grazing them down her cheek, her neck, and the front of her chest.
I fall asleep with her heart pendant clutched in my hand.