In to Her

A job.

I don’t want to believe it. I want to pretend this is all a mistake. I lie there for an eternity dwelling on my own misplaced faith, still willing it to be a misunderstanding.

But Yvette is on the floor beside me. We are face to face, her eyes mostly closed. Heavy and unable to focus.

“Yvette,” I say. Except it doesn’t even come out as a word. Just a mumbled, garbled pathetic string of sounds.

I want to tell her things. So many things. Like… we could’ve made it. We could’ve fixed things. Started over. I could’ve given her the life she deserved. Maybe eventually, we’d fall in love.

The island could’ve been our paradise. The beach Logan told her about. The sand, and the house, and the fresh start.

How could he do this to her? How? After all she’s been through. After all her loss…

And how could he do this to me?

Logan the Loyal.

I should’ve known better.

I really should’ve known better.

My world darkens to the last song on the jukebox. Logan’s pick.

Time to Pretend.

No, I think. You’ve been pretending this whole time.

This is reality.

This is who you always were, Logan.

A traitor to the core.

Someone is wrapping me up in a tarp.

Voices.

Logan saying, “He’s waking up. Give him more.”

Another voice. One I don’t recognize.

The cleaner.

Then a sharp pain in my arm. And heat, as drugs are pushed into my vein. The warmth overtakes me and I start to fade again, just as someone grabs my feet and pulls me across the floor.

I force myself to stay semi-conscious as I’m dragged outside into the cold, bitter wind, and snow.

I plowed this parking lot. I cleared the way so they could slide my body across the ice.

I made it easy for them.

My eyes are heavy and they resist, but I am strong, so I force them open one more time as I’m lifted up and dragged across the floor of an empty cargo van.

No, I realize.

Not empty.

Because Yvette is beside me. Blood all over her neck like it was sliced open.

I’m sorry, I try to say. I failed you and I’m sorry. I trusted him and that was a mistake.

But it’s just meaningless thoughts. No words.

I fade to black…

The next time I wake to the sound of Yvette moaning and the first thing I think is… she’s still alive. All that blood and she’s still alive.

I don’t try to talk this time, just wait for the inevitable push of drugs into my veins. We are still in a van. Or some other moving vehicle. Because my body, still limp and weak, rolls from side to side as we take corners. Yvette’s body bumps into mine and she moans again.

“AJ,” she whimpers.

I try to talk but I can’t. So I think.

I think… I’m here. You’re not going to die alone.

I can give her that. One last gift. I can be there with her when we die.

The next time I come up from the blackness I don’t fall back into the stupor and hazy dream world, but begin to wake up.

“Yvette,” I manage to croak. My throat dry like sandpaper.

No response.

We are still moving.

He’s taking us back, I realize.

Back to that beast Damon. Where Damon will torture us, and rape her, and—

The van stops. The brakes squeaking.

Then voices speaking Spanish along with the unmistakable click-clack sound of a shotgun loading.

Minutes pass, the driver quiet. And I open my eyes and sit up.

Look around. Groggy, but finally awake.

Realize four things.

I am not wrapped in a tarp, but a thick blanket. Like the kind movers use to protect furniture.

My hands are bound in front of me, not behind me.

The blood on Yvette’s neck is not from a wound. Because it’s dried up and flaking and there is no cut slicing across her throat.

We are still alive and if we do die today, it will not happen quickly.

Chapter Thirty-Six – YVETTE

When the dizziness hit me I thought it was just… hunger, maybe. Just… I was in need of food. Low blood sugar.

But then AJ slumped to the floor and Logan didn’t move to help him. Just stared at me.

“What?” I managed to mumble as I began to slump over. Then the real question. “Why?” As he caught me before I hit the floor and dragged me over to AJ.

“Shhh,” he said. “Just sleep, Yvette.”

So I did. I couldn’t help it.

But not completely. It was a hazy, half-drugged dream-sleep. Filled with bad memories and the feeling of being out of control.

A nightmare, really.

I opened my eyes to find Logan and another man standing over me. Blood dripping from Logan’s hand. Blood that lands on my neck. Then his fingers. Gently smearing it around.

I can smell it. Copper with a hint of iron.

I try to ask him what’s going on, but they are just jumbled thoughts. No chance of ever turning into words.