Page 50 of Don't Speak
Fury consuming me, I walk over to the table where the hardware supplies are, and I grab the bottle of acid-based cleaner. Unscrewing it, I walk over to James and grab him by thechin. “You’re a real worthless piece of shit, you know that?” Fire sparks in his eyes, before it simmers. Oh. I think that actually hit a nerve. I lean down into his face, still holding onto his chin. “Have fun in Hell, shitbag.” I tilt his head back quickly and pour the cleaner into his mouth. I close his jaw and hold it shut, covering his nose with the same hand, and I watch him choke on it. He jerks back and forth, trying to expel the contents of his mouth until eventually, he can't breathe, and he inhales the liquid. After a few more jolts from his body, he stills. I release his mouth and nose, watching what’s left spill from his orifices.
I waste no time in cleaning up the mess. I wrap him in plastic like I did with Eric and dump him with his friend. They can both rot side by side, together. It’s poetic, actually.
Gathering up my tools, I pack everything up and head out.
“I’m coming, little lioness.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
When I open my eyes again, I’m lying on an old mattress in one of the psych rooms. My arm is handcuffed to the rusted railing. Tears form in my eyes when I feel a breeze caress my legs, and I look down and realize that my pants are gone. I’m in nothing but a tank top and underwear, and that realization sends a paralyzing sense of fear through my body. I don’t feel any pain between my legs, so I feel slightly relieved by that small grace.
I don’t know what time it is, but I can at least tell that it is daylight outside. I can’t help but lie here and think about all the what-ifs. What if I don’t survive this? What if I never see Deanagain?Oh my god, Dean.He had to have heard me scream. He must have seen my stuff on the ground. Is he looking for me?
The tears begin to fall, and I roll over, facing the wall. The handcuffs are a little too tight, and my hand feels like it's going numb. The throbbing in my hand from where James stabbed a scalpel through it is starting to dissipate with the numbness taking over. I lie here for what feels like hours before the door creaks open. Using my other hand, I quickly wipe the tears away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. I slowly turn back around, but when I do, my eyes widen in surprise.
“Mom?” My voice cracks. My throat is so dry.
“Yeah, Nikki. It’s me.” She carries in a tray with what looks like a sandwich and a bottle of water on it. When she finally moves closer, I notice her hands are cuffed together. Aside from that, she actually looks… sober.
“They told me you disappeared,” I say, bewildered.
“Sean grabbed me from the house. I’ve been here ever since.”
“And.. you’re… sober?”
“Well, when you’re stuck in here without booze, the only way to go is up, I guess. Although, the first couple of nights were a bitch. Withdrawals suck ass.”
“You need to eat and drink something. Sean had me bring this to you.” She hands me the sandwich and water bottle, and I immediately scarf it down. I can’t remember the last time I ate.
As I’m taking the last bite, I look up at her. I really look at her this time, noticing things I hadn’t when she first came in and handed me the tray. She sports a yellowish bruise on her right eye, probably a couple of days old. There’s dried blood on her shirt and under her nose. Her arms and legs are covered in more bruises and some scratches. It’s when I look at her hands that nausea threatens to expel what little I’ve eaten. On her left hand, she’s missing her ring finger, and on the right, it’s her pinky. Bythe looks of it, Sean has been busy. I swallow the lump in my throat and fight back the tears in my eyes.
“He blames us for ruining his life. He’s angry.” She looks away as though she’s feeling ashamed. Part of me feels sorry for her, the unhealed little girl inside who still loves her mother. The other part feels empty. Like I just don’t have it in me to care. Not after everything she’s done.
All I can do is stare at her, my eyes roaming her body and finding something new with every glance. When I can’t take it anymore, I look away. “That's why he won’t let me have any alcohol. He wants me to… feel it.” I can’t remember the last time I saw her sober. If I had gotten the sober version of her more often than not, I think my life would have turned out much differently. Before it got out of control, she was a great mom. When she’s sober, she’s calm, happy, and fun to be around. I think that’s why my brain and my heart have such a battle with each other when it comes to her. I constantly mourn what I could have had with her.
“Has he told you how long he plans to keep us here?”
“No. I don’t honestly know what his plans are.”
I look down at the tray, tears threatening to make their appearance again. I can’t help but think about how much I miss Dean.
“Can I sit?” she asks, snapping me back to reality. She motions to the spot beside me on the bed. I nod, scooting over to make room.
“There’s something I never told you about Sean. You think that I did nothing, Nikki, and you would be right. I didn’t do what I should have when it mattered the most. But I did do something.”
I look at her in utter confusion, my eyes making contact with her ocean blues. “What do you mean?”
“After I forced you to… recant your statement, I told the guys about what happened.”
When my mother references ‘the guys,’ I know she’s talking about the motorcycle club she used to run with. My mother and Sean used to ride, and they made friends in certain places. I grew up in and out of biker bars. Probably some of the few good memories I actually have.
“The beat him, Nikki. They beat him and left him on the side of the road. It was pretty bad. He was in the hospital recovering for months. Afterward, he was excommunicated from every club in the area.”
My jaw is wide open, and my eyebrows are raised in surprise. I never knew that happened. The trial never mentioned anything either. They must have silenced him. Obviously, their tactics didn’t work too well, though, considering it didn’t scare him into not doing it again. Thoughts of Dean’s sister cross my mind.If I had just told my mother no and that I wanted to pursue charges, no matter what that would have done to her, maybe she’d still be alive.
“You were supposed to protect me.” I sob. “I needed my mom, and you just kept choosing men and alcohol over me. I was never good enough for you, but you were always the one person I needed most.” I feel anger starting to fester, and I snap my head at her. “You made me LIE! You chose your own self-preservation; you leveraged what little happiness I had and manipulated me into lying about everything that happened to me! I’ve been utterly BROKEN as a human because of you. I’ve struggled to truly trust anyone because of you. I have walls higher than Mt. Everest built around my heart because of YOU! Because the one person who was supposed to love me and keep me safe more than anyone else DIDN’T CHOOSE ME. So if you didn’t, how could I expect anyone else to?!” I’m full-on screaming at this point. Everything I’ve built up over theyears spills from my mouth. I’ve pushed myself into the corner, wanting to just be far away from her at this moment.
“Sorry to interrupt this little mother-daughter bonding moment,” a voice says, goosebumps erupting on my skin. Sean stands in the doorway, his arms crossed, holding a gun.A gun. My heart begins to race, the fear of the unknown becoming a bit too much for me to handle.
