Page 9 of Fatally Yours
“Then keep your attention on your phone, or we’ll pay you a visit.” With that, he turned and joined the others assessing the scene. I almost wantedto say something—scream at him, hit him, something that would release my rage—but I couldn’t. Scott buried his head in his hands, and Wes leaned against the van, staring into nothing. Before I could sit down and join them, Officer Wilson approached us, earning himself a snarl from the guys.
“I’m sorry about August, Natasha,” he said, setting his hand on my shoulder. The gesture almost made me wretch. “If you need anything, do not hesitate to stop by. You know where I’m at.” My toes curled as Mandy gripped my hand like a vice, as if silently telling me to cooperate, just like I used to do with August whenever he had confrontations. It wasn’t his right to speak his name after all the trouble he caused.
“Thanks.” He gave me a soft smile and turned away. I didn’t think I had ever been happier seeing the back of someone’s head. “August would kill that guy,” I said, feeling tears try to blur my vision again. Mandy reached out and rubbed my back, her eyes still pink.
“Let’s go home, okay?” she said, running her hand along my arm. Everyone nodded in agreement, and we all climbed into the van. The radio wasn’t on, and we went back to Wes and Scott’s house in silence—except for Mandy and my muffled tears.
When we arrived, we piled into his home. There was no way I was okay with being alone right now. August was always with me, and he was gone. Now I had nothing. My parents were far away, relatives too distant to care, and now the love of my life was in a body bag, sealed up and deprived of everything that made him so special.
I curled up on Wes’ couch and tucked my head into my knees, sobbing silently. Mandy was beside him with her head on his shoulder. Tears were brimming on his eyelids. Every so often, I heard him wipe them away. Scott sat by himself with his head back, more silent than I had ever seen him.
After who knows how long, a noise pulled me out of my sorrow. Scott stood up with red-speckled eyes and glanced down at us. “You think we should call Dev at work?” he questioned. Mandy looked at me, and with a deep breath, I nodded. He deserved to know, even if there was tension. I thought deep down that they cared about each other, at least enough not to want the other to die. How could you not when you were friends for years?If they didn’t, Devin would’ve bailed a long time ago, and August would’ve at least punched him in the face for trying to be so forward with me.
Scott wandered out of the room, and I heard him pluck the phone from the receiver in the kitchen. The buttons clicked as he pressed them, tearing through the silence. I tuned out his words, hiding my head in my hands, hoping not to cry all night, even if I knew I would. After a few minutes, he returned and stood beside me with the curly phone cord stretched around the corner.
“He wants to talk to you, Natasha,” he said. My heart skipped. That was awfully kind of him, despite everything. Or maybe he was going to congratulate me. My shoulders fell. I was just under a lot of stress. He wasn’t that terrible, even if August thought otherwise. Taking the phone from Scott, I pressed it to my ear.
“H-hello?”
“Natasha, are you okay?” Devin asked in a voice laced with concern. I almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of his question. No, I was not okay, and I would probably never be okay again. At least, not for a long, long time.
“No, I’m not. August, he…” My throat tightened like a ghostly hand was strangling me and forcing my grief back to the surface. I choked up and finished my sentence with another round of sobs.
“I’m gonna come over there, okay?”
“O-okay…” I gasped through my sorrows.
“I’ll see you then.” Before I could drop the phone, Scott sped over and took it from my hands as my head fell to the arm of the couch again. Salty tears clouded my vision again, and I pressed my hands to my face, hoping to quell my sorrows. The worst part was the stark silence. August wasn’t singing or strumming on his guitar. All that remained was a deafening tranquility, which was almost what disturbed me the most.
It was too damn quiet.
VI
One year later
A little chill in the air today made me draw my jacket over my shoulders. Mandy sat across from me, munching on a french fry as I stared down at the meal before me, sliding it across the table with a sigh. It seemed I didn’t have an appetite today either. That was a running theme since August passed—not wanting to eat. There was just too much going on in my head to warrant that. She eyed me sadly and moved my paper bag to the side so I could set my head down on the dingy picnic table.
“How are things with you and Devin?” she questioned, popping another fryin her mouth. My lip twitched as I lifted my head from the splintered table, propping my chin on my elbow.
“Not great.”
“Wanna talk about it?” There were plenty of things I wanted to talk about. Without August, I was completely lost. Life was not the same. I couldn’t hear his voice anymore, feel his gentle caresses and sweet gestures, or his undying affection for me. Devin tried to fill the void, and at first, things were okay. He supported me during my grief, much more than I expected. One thing led to another, and I accepted his advances a few months ago.
But he expected me to move on with him, but I couldn’t do that. Not when the memory of August haunted me even a year after his death. And he resented me for it. When he realized I wasn’t going to forget, he started to treat me differently. But after all he had done for me, how could I leave him?
Taking a deep breath, I began my seemingly never-ending tirade about the issues we faced regularly. Unless I got over my grief and Devin stopped being a hard-ass, our conflicts would continue until we died. It was a shame he was so supportive to begin with. Knowing what I know now, I would’ve never spent so much time with him.
“He resents me or August. Or both. He wants me to move on, but it’s so hard…” I trailed off. Mandy raised her brow.
“It’s only been a year. He can’t expect you to just get over him.”
“I know. I mean, we were high school sweethearts. We were about to celebrate our fifth anniversary. I was never without him after we met. We wanted to get married, have kids…” I sucked in a breath. “I wanted to grow old with him. Die with him.” She nodded, flicking her empty carton into the trash can nearby. Even though the greasy meal she so graciously bought for me—more than likely to sway me into eating—smelled divine and heart-stopping, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything more than stare at it.
Thinking about what led to the events of that day, I pressed my palms to my face to suppress another round of tears threatening to sneak up on me. Even after a year, I still felt those raw emotions as if it were just yesterday.
“I wish I had never suggested we go there,” I said. “This is all my fault.” Mandy slammed her fist on the table, making me uncover my face, and myheart leaped to my throat. Before August passed, I hadn’t been so jumpy, but things change when you watch someone die.
“Donotblame yourself. It’s not your fault,” she said. “And if Devin is telling you that, then I’ll kill him myself.”
