Chapter 49 #3
His face is unreadable, as though his thoughts are warring within him.
For a heartbeat, I’m not sure what he’ll do. And then something shifts within him. Everything shifts within him.
He crosses the room in two strides and lifts Banks from the floor without effort. He slams him into the wall, his body rigid, face cold. The last remaining picture frame shatters behind Banks’s head.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” Will roars from somewhere deep in his chest.
Banks swings, and his fist catches Will’s cheek. I scream.
No.
Will staggers but doesn’t fall. He doesn’t even release Banks’s shirt. I force myself to stand. To help. I tear open the closet by the front door and grab Will’s hoodie. My legs tremble underneath me as I throw it over myself and snatch the baseball bat waiting inside.
“Will, he attacked Margie. It was him,” I tell him, my hands shaking.
“I know,” Will says through gritted teeth without looking back.
“His dad found out what he was planning. He called your mom. It’s the only reason I made it in—” He can’t seem to finish the sentence.
His rage takes over, and he slams Banks into the wall again.
“Your own dad turned you in. How does that feel?”
“At least I have a dad.” Banks spits blood at him.
Will drives his fist into Banks’s stomach, slamming him against the wall again and again.
I cross the room fast, the bat held over my shoulder.
“Will!” I shout.
His gaze flashes to me and, in a second, he understands without a word. He ducks, and I swing. The wood smacks against Banks’s head with a dull thud.
His eyes widen, but he doesn’t go down. I hit him again.
My friend. This person I once trusted.
His body crumples. He folds at the waist and collapses, landing on his knees. Will tackles him, catching his hands behind his back and pinning him to the floor.
Banks thrashes against him weakly, then goes slack.
“The police.” I move for my phone.
“On the way,” Will says, out of breath, his full weight held over Banks. “I already called them.” His eyes draw hurried lines across my body, assessing me. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”
I sink to the floor, my hand still locked around the bat. Suddenly, I can feel everything. My skin screams. My lungs burn. My head throbs. My body trembles uncontrollably.
As my adrenaline drains, it leaves ice in its wake.
“Hey,” Will whispers, edging himself off Banks slightly so he can reach me, cup my jaw. “Hey. Look at me.”
I do. My eyes lift to meet his. His cheek is already swelling, and his lip is split. He looks absolutely terrified.
“You came.” It’s all I can manage to say. My fingers uncurl from the bat.
“Of course I came.” His voice is shaky. Broken. “You think I was going to let you be the hero of this story alone?”
A watery sound escapes my chest. It might be a laugh, but it sounds more like a choked sob. In the distance, I can hear sirens now. Safety. But then, I already have that.
I have him.
And he has me.
“We make a good team,” I say. “Unfortunately.”
He gives a soft laugh, and his eyes line with tears. He pulls me against him without hesitation. I’m soaking his shirt with bathwater and tears of my own.
“I was so scared,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to my temple, then another to the top of my head.
“His dad called your mom and said he couldn’t find Banks.
He said Banks had been the one following you.
The blue truck. It was him.” His voice comes out thick now.
“And…he, uh, he told us he’d learned what Banks did to Mom and— And— I thought— I didn’t wait. I couldn’t. I—”
“I know.” It’s all I can say. I kiss his shirt, feel his racing heart against my lips, my cheek. “Banks is Ruth’s son. And Mom…I-I think this is all her fault. The affair… I—”
Will’s arm tightens around me. He doesn’t need me to say more or explain anything, not yet. “He’s not going to hurt anyone else. It’s over. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
I cling to him as I see the red and blue lights flickering on the wall. I should get dressed, but I can’t bring myself to leave his arms. His safety.
My breath hitches as I feel his hand rubbing small circles on my back. Somehow, I’m not sure I deserve this. I don’t feel like I deserve his kindness when this all comes back to me. To my mom.
“I love you.” The words come softly against my hair, and they’re so unexpected I almost think I dreamed them.
But when I look up, he’s staring right at me. Not afraid. Sure. “I promised to tell you what I’m thinking, and…I love you, Opal. I’ve always loved you. As far back as I can remember. And you deserve to know that.”
“I love you, too.” The truth escapes my lips like a desperate breath. “I love you.”
I squeeze against him again, my mind reeling. Mom’s lies, Ruth’s death, Margie’s fall. Will’s love. It all swirls together in my mind, a merciless storm. This will take years to untangle. To fix. To heal.
But for now, I’m alive. He’s alive.
And he loves me.
And when the knock finally comes at the door, and he hugs me close, I think maybe, the rest will be okay too.