Page 35 of The Significance of Moving On

My joints ache and muscles are sore, but I’ll take all the pain to get to the part of the day making the shit worthwhile, hearing Tally’s voice. After a shower and getting comfortable underneath the blankets, I prop the pillows behind my head and spend the night listening as she goes around the house checking the locks on the doors and windows. She’s there all by herself, and it makes me uneasy.

Our relationship has changed since I told her my secret. She’s more distant than she used to be—our conversations surface level—but she’s also stronger. A letter came in the mail addressed to Tom she held it together. Sounded sad, but no tears.

Even with the extended hours, we already called the boss—there’s no way the two of us will finish by the end of this week—instead of sending help, he’s extending the trip by a week. My brother will be back home on Friday. He can check in on Tal and we can start cutting ties.

Jesse walks out of the bathroom drying his hair with a towel but also carrying a bag from one of those upscale jewelry stores in town.

“Awe, you shouldn’t have.” I tease.

“I’m doing it.”

“Just to clarify by ‘doing it’ you mean—”

“The grand gesture.”

“When?”

Jess sits down on the edge of my bed, moving the bag back and forth between his hands. “I’m not going back with you,” he says.

“Proud of you, man.”

“Yeah, well… I guess we’ll see if she’ll actually have me.”

“She’s not turning your ugly ass down and you know it.”

“Davenport, you wish your face was half as beautiful as my ass. And speaking of grand gestures.”

“Nothing to be done—we’re cutting ties.”

He looks visibly shook. “What?”

I shake my head instead of answering and he nods his head understanding. That’s the end of it.

The nightmares have gotten worse since I told Tally the truth. Always the same, the last day, hour, minute, second of Luke’s life. How I pounded on his chest, breathing into his mouth trying to save someone who’d already passed the point of being saved. I fought them, the police and paramedics, to keep hold of him. Because if they took him, he’d really be gone.

They took him anyway.

I had no one to lean on for support. No one to give me a couch or a shoulder to cry on. Just me, Casey Davenport—the monster no one knew lived under their roof—by myself.

Something pulls me from the pit of restless sleep. Tears dampen my pillow. Weak. I’m weak, crying in my sleep.

After the few seconds it takes to focus and remember where the hell I am, naturally I look to the clock to determine how pissed off I should be for waking this early. It says 3:30. Jesse’s hard asleep in the next bed, not snoring, but the room is so quiet this time of night that I can hear him breathing.

As much as I need it to, sleep just is not going to happen now. There’s a flash of light I catch from the corner of my eye. It makes me jump and roll over. My phone lit up with a text from Tal. I swipe my finger over the screen to read it.

Tally:Heard a noise. Scared me.

Must have been a big noise for her to text me at this hour.

Me:Everything alright?I text back and wait.

She doesn’t answer. I throw on my sweatshirt and hurry outside to not wake up Jess, hitting the call button to Tally’s phone, passing through the doorway. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Voicemail. I hang up and call again. If she doesn’t answer I’m calling the police down there to have it checked out. One, two, three rings.

“Hello,”she whispers.

“Tal, are you alright?”

“I heard a loud bang,” she says, and I can see her in my mind crouched in the corner of her room with her hand cupping her mouth and the phone, maybe with the covers pulled from her bed, tucked up around her chin because she’s trying not to be seen.

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