Page 36 of Quiet Rage (Wicked Falls Elite #5)

Tamson

“Thanks a lot. Have a good one.”

God, I am a zombie, going through the motions as I finish bagging a few items for a customer with two kids who are very, very excited to get home and eat their candy bars. But only if they do all their homework, or so their mom made sure to tell them.

I remember back when I used to get excited over something as simple as a candy bar. Life was better then. I didn’t know how good I had it, but then does anybody ever? That’s the thing about life. We don’t know how good things are until later, when we have something terrible to compare them to.

I didn’t know the last time I said goodbye to Jason would be the last time, either.

I didn’t know how good it was to have an annoying brother who never put the toilet seat down when he was finished in the bathroom and who used to leave hair trimmings in the sink after shaving.

What I wouldn’t give to get home and see whiskers on the counter.

I used to get so mad, too. I would do anything to get that mad at him again.

“Excuse me?”

Blinking hard, I realize the woman is still standing at the counter, bag in hand. “Yes?” I murmur.

“I gave you twenty dollars.” When I still don’t react because I’m too damn numb, she says, “My change?”

Jesus Christ. It’s like being in a constant dream state, only the rest of the world is awake. “I’m so sorry.” I have to wait for her to hand me her receipt to remind me how much change she’s owed. I can’t even get through the basics of life anymore.

How can I, when my brain keeps flashing back to being on the kitchen table? Looking up at Kellen, suffering through his brutality, unable to understand what was happening or why. Why he had to do it. How he could use me like I didn’t matter at all.

It’s a relief when the bell chimes over the door, and I’m alone again.

Alone for real, too. Mom has been even more out of it than I am, sinking deep into the bottle in hopes of drowning the memories.

She couldn’t pull it together enough to come in this morning.

Neither could Dad, though he used the excuse of making sure she was all right.

He told me he’d be here later to relieve me.

I hope he makes it soon, because I don’t like being here alone.

Even though it’s not really cold in here, I shiver and pull my sweater closed over the long sleeve shirt underneath it.

I’m so cold all the time. I can’t make myself eat.

Every time I try to do anything even slightly normal, I hear Mom screaming.

I hear the table legs scraping against the floor every time Kellen slammed deep.

I can feel the pain—physical and otherwise. There is plenty of both.

And even though he is the reason for that pain, I still miss him. That’s the worst part. I meant it when I said I needed space. I could barely stand being in the same room with him, breathing the same air. But I miss him now. I’ve been missing him all this time. Scared of him, and missing him.

A bunch of the canned goods need to be stocked, so I grab a box and go through the motions, moving the older cans up front, stocking behind them.

Using the sticker gun to add prices. The big, round mirror in the back corner gives me a view of the front door, so I can always see if somebody’s on their way in.

Foot traffic isn’t bad on a day like this, and I guess I should be glad to be busy.

At least it helps the time pass, but it also means having to force an expression on my face that doesn’t look quite so haunted.

I’m so tired of having to push what I’m feeling off to the side for the sake of functioning.

The bell chimes and I look up at the mirror, a stack of soup cans in one hand. The man wears a black leather jacket and knit cap, and he walks with his head lowered. Like he’s hiding something.

Right away, my heart clenches. My stomach, too, sending bile up into my throat.

It’s not like there’s anything else in my stomach, anyway.

The hot, bitter sensation almost makes me gag as I instinctively creep to the back of the store, away from him.

The way an animal who knows it’s caught will still try to keep itself safe for as long as it can.

Because there’s something very familiar about him.

The way he moves. Quietly, I place two of the cans on a shelf, but tighten my grip on the one in my hand since it’s the only thing close to a weapon I have.

He’s the one who wanted to take a turn with me in the kitchen.

He was here, beating Dad. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear my heart pounding while I wait at the end of the aisle, holding my breath, very much considering running through the back door.

“Anybody here?” Yes, that’s him, that’s his voice. It’s haunted me for days. “Hello? Don’t tell me there’s nobody here with the door unlocked. I could take anything I want.”

I know what he’s really talking about. I hear it in his nasty snickering. He couldn’t take me, could he? Kellen wouldn’t let him.

“What do you want?” Kellen’s not here, so I have to stand up for myself. If he sees I’m terrified, he’ll use it against me. Let him see I can stand up to him. Let him see he hasn’t taken everything away.

I step to the side, where he can see me, which gives me a look at his sickening smile. “There she is,” Dante purrs, taking one step my way, then another. I can get out through the back if I need to. I am not afraid of him.

“I think I asked you what you want,” I grunt. “If you’re not here to buy something, get the hell out.”

“Listen to you.” His lips purse in a high-pitched whistle as he keeps coming closer. The hair on the back of my neck rises and every beat of my heart urges me to get the hell out of here. Forget trying to pretend I’m strong. I need to go.

“I’m not kidding. Go.” I lift the soup a little, ready to hurl at him if it gives me a little extra time to get away.

He glances at it, laughing. “What are you going to do with that? Cook me a healthy lunch?”

Then he pounces. A tight, high-pitched yelp comes out of me before my back is to the rack of paper towels and tissues along the wall. Caging me in with one arm, then the other, Dante leans in close. He reeks of liquor and cigarettes. “I’m going to get what’s coming to me. Understood?”

“There is nothing coming to you.” Except a bullet that I hope very, very much smashes its way through him. Bonus points if I can be there to watch it happen.

“That’s what you think.” When he lowers his head to sniff my neck, I have to bite my tongue to hold back a whimper of disgust. “I’m coming for you tonight.

You and me, we’re going to get to know each other very well.

And this time,” he adds in a whisper against my ear, “Kellen won’t be there to stop me. ”

I’m still frozen in horror when he lifts his head, smiling down at me. “He’s got a new toy now. He’ll be too busy with her.”

What does that mean? Somehow, in the middle of my paralyzing fear, the comment about Kellen’s toy rises to the top. If I thought I’d get an answer, I would ask what that means.

But I think I understand. He’s moved on. There’s somebody else in his life, taking up his time. I pushed him too far away for too long.

I was right. He was never going to save me.

The bell chimes in front, and I gasp, looking over his shoulder. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy to see Mom and Dad.

“Tamson?” Dad calls out.

Dante’s empty eyes meet mine. “See you tonight,” he whispers, then ducks through the back door the way I should have. There’s nothing I can do but lean against the rack, shaking, fighting for every breath. He wasn’t joking. I know he wasn’t. He is going to come to the house later to find me.

And there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

“There you are.” Mom sighs with relief when I appear, still holding the can in my sweaty hand. It looks like she at least went through the motions today, showering and putting on clean clothes. She’s as haunted as I am. “How has it been here?”

“Quiet,” I murmur, glad when a few customers walk in, a group of girls who laugh and joke and loudly talk about their plans for later tonight. Normal girls, in other words, while I remember what Kellen did to me in the kitchen…and imagine how much worse it will be when Dante finds me.

What am I supposed to do? I have to assume he meant it. He’ll come to the house tonight. If I’m not there, he’ll wait for me. I know he will. If I’m still on his mind, if he still feels like he missed out somehow, he is not going to let up.

“Honey, that’s the third can you’ve dropped,” Mom sighs as I continue restocking. “And I think you can stop now. The shelves are crammed.”

She’s right. I’ve just been sliding cans in place without thinking until there isn’t an inch of free space. I don’t know how much time has passed. I don’t even know if I priced half of them correctly.

She comes out from behind the counter, looking at me with deep concern. “Why don’t you go back to the office, sit down for a little bit?” she suggests, touching the back of her hand on my forehead like she’s checking for a fever. “You are ice cold.”

Dad is back in the office. I don’t know if I can stand looking at his hand bandaged up the way it is. Every time I see it, I remember the way Mom shrieked. It’s enough to make me imagine sitting down with her, the vodka between us, and drinking myself into oblivion.

“You know what, maybe I should go home,” I whisper. I don’t want him coming back here, looking for me. I can’t put them through it. Somehow, in the middle of all of this, I still care about what this could do to them. “I’m not feeling very well.”

“All right. Maybe you should get some sleep. And try to eat something,” she adds. “You’ll be a skeleton before much longer.”

“I try,” I murmur, grabbing my purse from under the counter. The last thing I want right now is to be alone, vulnerable, but I can’t be here. I can barely function. It’s obvious there’s something wrong with me. I won’t be able to hide it much longer.

There’s a second where I consider not going in the direction of home.

But where else would I go? I don’t want to make it easy for him to find me, but I have no backup plan.

I have no money for even a cheap motel. I could call Emma, spend the night with her, but would I want to leave my only friend open to that maniac? I can’t get her involved in this.

What, then? Do I just go home and wait? Do I drive around until the car runs out of gas, then sleep in it somewhere? That would be like pouring lighter fluid on a fire. Dante isn’t the only bad guy out there in the world.

And Kellen is lost to me. Who am I trying to kid? He was never mine. If he could forget me that easily, and find a new toy as Dante put it, I never actually meant anything.

By the time I’m home, unlocking the front door, there’s only one option left. It’s always been there, in the background, waiting to step into the light. Since way before all of this happened. Only before now, I thought I had a reason to avoid going through with it.

Now, I definitely do. Because the last thing I’m going to do is sit here and wait to have what’s left of my life destroyed. I’m going to take what little bit of control I have.

I barely see anything around me now that my focus is set.

I move robotically, every step one step closer to my fate.

This is how it has to be. I can’t go through another day of this.

I’m sure I’ll be forgiven on the other side.

Finally, no more fear. No more pain. Peace.

My heart swells with longing for peace, pushing away any last questions or doubts I might have.

The pills are on Mom’s nightstand, where she can grab them easily.

The bottle is more than half full—she must have just gotten them refilled.

It’s like fate is on my side, making sure I have the tools I need.

I take it with me down the hall to my room, passing Jason’s empty bedroom on the way.

I’ll get to see him again. Light sparks in my chest, warm, soothing.

There’s half a bottle of water sitting on my nightstand. I open the bottle of pills as I sit, getting everything over with quickly now. I’ve fought so hard for so long. There’s relief in giving up. I just want it all over with.

I don’t bother counting the pills as I pour them into my palm. I only know there’s nothing more than a few left in the bottle when I plop it down on the nightstand. Do I take them all at once? Might as well.

Tipping my head back, I empty the pills into my mouth, then follow it with a few long gulps of water until they’re all washed down. It’s done. I can go to sleep. I’m so tired, too. This is such a relief.

Kicking off my shoes, I slowly stretch out on the bed.

Kellen slept here with me. I run my hand over the space where he lay, where I had some of my last happy moments.

They might’ve been fake, just like everything else about us, but it felt real at the time.

I force myself to focus on that, to live in those memories, as my eyes close and I wait for the end.