IVY
T he sun set on my first day away from my family. Elle left after dinner, taking Boa to Rock’s unit on her way out. My new clothes were hung up and folded in the spare room. I had tried on my new shoes. The bathroom cabinet was full of period supplies. Clint moved the information from my old iPhone onto my new red one. He also added important numbers like his, Elle’s, and one belonging to the club’s lawyer who was his cousin.
Around eight, Clint took Hanzee down to the building’s courtyard. As soon as he left, I stared at my phone and thought about Uncle Dwight. With his mind failing, he might not even remember why I went away. Was he already dead? I imagined him alone when the end came.
The grief seared through me, erasing all the good from today. Sitting on the couch, I pressed my legs against my chest and cried against my knees. I wanted to call Uncle Dwight. If he was alive, I could tell him how everything worked out. I wanted him to die knowing he was my hero.
Except I knew Clint didn’t want me to call Dwight. And my uncle was no doubt already dead. That was why he told me to run. He was tired, and our time had run out.
But maybe Uncle Dwight could go home and live out what time he had left in the mansion. Linus would know his brother’s mind wasn’t strong enough to retain information about where I went.
I told myself Linus would bring Dwight home. They’d figure out the money situation. With me gone, the men might stick together. Everything could be fine.
Clint returned to find me sniffling and hiccupping. I felt better as soon as he shared my space. Settling on the couch, he stroked my head while resting Hanzee between us.
“Tell me why you’re sad.”
“If Uncle Dwight hadn’t wanted to save me, he could have died at home. Now, he’s alone somewhere,” I explained. “I keep wanting to call him.”
“What would you say?”
“Just that I’m safe, and I love him. I’d say he doesn’t need to be scared anymore.”
Clint stood up and walked to his front closet. He returned with a small phone.
“This is a burner phone. No one can trace it. Call your uncle and tell him that you’re safe.”
My chest felt heavy with worry, guilt, and anticipation. I took the phone with my shaky hands.
“Tell him whatever you need to say but don’t share where you are. Nothing good can come out of him knowing.”
Studying Clint, I admitted, “I feel like you’re testing me, and I’m supposed to give the phone back to you.”
“No, I’m not a gotcha-type guy. If I didn’t want you to call him, I wouldn’t have offered the phone.”
Unaccustomed to people trusting me to choose for myself, I studied the phone. I imagined Dwight answering. How would I handle if he cried and asked me to return to him? I’d probably break down and promise him lies.
Twice, I dialed my uncle’s number. Both times, my call went to his voicemail. I pictured the phone ringing in the Mercedes. Did Uncle Dwight even understand what the ringing noise meant?
In my heart, I sensed he was dead. Without me to keep him going, Dwight used the gun on himself. I didn’t want to imagine him going undiscovered in the Mercedes. Accepting his death, I called back a third time to hear my uncle’s voice on the voicemail message.
“Dwight didn’t impress many people, but I loved him,” I said and burst into tears. “He used to play dolls with me. When my mom put me on random diets, he would sneak me treats.”
Clint didn’t rush me as I babbled through my tears. He stroked my head. When I moved closer, he wrapped an arm around my body.
“Uncle Dwight was so sick when he fought those men and helped me escape. He wasn’t a great man to most people, but he saved me. And now, he’s died alone.”
“You said your uncle told you to escape,” Clint said, offering me affection without hesitation. “He wanted to die alone rather than take you with him. You gave him peace by running.”
“I miss my home,” I mumbled, unable to edit myself when Clint watched me with such an open expression. “I was bored and lonely there, but I knew what each day would bring. Until one day, everything changed. I know my home isn’t safe anymore. Maybe it never was, but I haven’t slept well since I left the mansion.”
“I’m going to tell you one thing,” Clint said as he stroked my back. “Then, I want you to sleep. I can stay in the room with you until you settle down. But once we’re in there, I think you should turn off your brain and relax.”
I glanced at the bedroom, feeling dread about being alone with my thoughts.
“No one will bother you here, including me,” Clint explained. “I feel like you’re mine to protect. That gives me a sense of ownership, and I don’t want you to leave me. So, that gives you power, too. For tonight, I only want you to rest. No more meeting new people. No more feeling guilty for other people’s choices. I want you to trust you are safe here. Hanzee and I will protect you from the world.”
I instantly smiled at the mention of the little dog snoozing next to us. Clint knew I’d react that way. He’s so smart about people.
“I’ll be square with you now,” Clint said and held my gaze. “The next few weeks will be stressful. You’re bound to suffer homesickness. You might start convincing yourself it wasn’t so bad in Reno or your surviving uncle can be reasoned with. There’ll be times when you’re overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in my life. But I hope you can trust the stress will lead to a great new life.”
His words sent my heart racing. I couldn’t picture a future where I’d be capable of holding my own. I doubted hiding away was an option here in Little Memphis.
“Tonight, just think about Hanzee and me waiting for you in the morning. Don’t worry about anything beyond that, okay?”
Nodding, I felt the future was close enough to touch. If I kept my cool and didn’t hide, I could have everything I’ve ever wanted—freedom, friends, and romance.
Clint asked me to get ready for bed. He promised to hang out with me until I fell asleep. In the bedroom, I slid on one of my new nightgowns. Normally, I’d brush out my hair like Geraldine instructed me to do when I was a kid. She harped on the rules until I still obeyed long after she was gone.
Tonight, I left my hair messy. I doubted Elle would put so much effort into her hair before bed. I’d rather be like Clint’s sister than my mom. Geraldine Humphreys tried to find happiness through other people, but she always got restless and moved on. Meanwhile, Elle didn’t chase fads or fake friends to make herself happy.
I climbed into Elle’s bed. The mattress felt great. My body relaxed immediately, exhausted after a long day. However, my mind instantly got loud with too many voices asking too many questions. I felt like the world was yelling accusations at me.
Clint’s arrival silenced those voices. He moved soundlessly to the other bed. I heard the jingle of Hanzee’s collar.
“Close your eyes and pretend you’re back in your safe space,” Clint said in a soft yet commanding voice. I obeyed him immediately. “There’s no shame in wanting what you used to have. Tomorrow, you can be brave and face your new life.”
“Thank you for saving me today,” I whispered.
“Thank you for trusting me enough to let me save you.”
I smiled at how he made me feel cherished. I saw how he acted with Elle. They teased each other, but he also ensured she was never truly upset.
Clint’s affability might seem like a weakness in a violent world, yet I sensed his warmth was why people followed him. He was a man capable of seeing the big picture while most of us could only view our tiny place within the world.
Trusting him to know the answers tomorrow, I closed my eyes and chased my hopeful dreams into a deep sleep.