ShameLess (23 page)

The sudden realization hits my heart, stabbing and twisting it into a tangled weave of pure fear. I do not know what else to do, so I rush – no, I actually run out in the direction of the voices, which I assume is coming from the living room. Sure enough, once I round the corner of the hallway leading to the bedrooms, and bathroom, I am in clear view of the open living space.

I shudder, while my heart explodes, shattering into a million tiny pieces! I release a spine-chilling scream, “STEFAN!”

At the sound of my voice, Stefan jerks his head in my direction, losing his balance in their struggle, falling back over the end table and knocking the lamp to the floor along with his body. An instant lump forms in my throat, and the air constricts my airways. I am petrified, stilled and motionless.

I come eye to eye with the man from the van!

We do not break our stare. I yell, “Take whatever you want, but don’t hurt him.” I do not move, but every single solitary ounce of me wants to rush over to Stefan and see if he is okay. I know if I move, the other guy will move too and I cannot take the risk while Stefan is unconscious on the floor, at his feet.

“Whatever I want, eh? Well, I came for you. If you come with me quietly, I won’t hurt your boyfriend.” The sound of his voice sends slivers of chills all over my body. It feels as if I am being eaten alive by thousands of tiny, blood sucking insects. I want to shrivel up into the folds of the horror threatening us that is also strangling this perfect night. I wish I never came to the house to pee.

Damn it! Why is this happening – WHY?

I will not allow him to see my fear. I dig deep for some of the newfound strength, and straighten my shoulders, squaring my posture. “Deal. Just don’t hurt him. But tell me, what do you want from me, and who are you? I’ve seen you a few times around campus, and I know it was you who struck my bumper…why have you been following me?”

He looks dirty, like he has been living out of his car without a shower, unshaven just like I saw him before. Although it appears that maybe at one time he was fine, or at least better than now. He speaks coherently, and appears articulate, which makes no freaking sense, because he looks like anything but. However, there is one thing I see that feels like I am looking at my own reflection - His eyes. Mine are a distinct bluish-gray-green, some refer to them as being like the blue-greens of the ocean, and his are exactly like mine. My moms are blue. My heart sinks!

He does not sit on his reply, “You look just like your mother. You do know that, right?” An eerie smile forms, spreading across his face, and I swear I see a slight twinkle in his eye. I am beyond sickened.

Hearing this sends a red zing of alarm through me because there is no possible way my socialite mother would have anything to do with the likes of him, but I refrain. I fight past the need to react.

I look him directly in the eye and ask, “Oh yeah, why’s that? I didn’t know you knew my mother. Do you belong to Willowbrook Country Club?” I know there is no fucking way he does. I want to see what his answer to this one is…I wait.

“Almost twenty years ago, she was mine. She got pregnant – with you. You are my daughter, so it’s time you met your fate. The voices don’t shut up…inside my head. It’ll be the same way for you, too. I came for you because it’s time to stop them. The voices need to stop – for me, and for you.”

Pure, obvious shock claims my entire being. Within the time it took him to ramble it all out, my entire life has changed.
What?! This can’t be happening! This can’t be true!

Oh my God! IF you exist, God, please help me!

He pauses as he takes a few steps toward me. Paralyzed by my own fear, my feet will not move. My entire body is in total shock. I glance past him, struggling to look at Stefan, who is still lying on the floor, unmoving.

As he continues heading at me, he says, “You have my blood running through your veins. Either we kill together, or we die together. No alternative.” The words release from him with a frigid monotone, his eyes glazed over, remain fixed on mine.

I have to say something. I have to DO something!

My eyes quickly scan the room. The door is past him so making it there is out of the question. NO exit; NO escape! I will never make it past him. I will not leave Stefan. Next, my eyes go to the kitchen. It is off to the right of where I stand and further away from him. It is my only alternative – my ONLY option. Without thinking, I allow my body to react past the fear that was holding me captive moments ago, and dart into the kitchen. He reacts, and rushes toward me.

Inside the kitchen, I spot the largest butcher knife, housed among varying ones of all different sizes. I snatch it, pulling it out, and release it from the knife block. Just then, he is grabbing me, twisting me around to face him. The knife drops from my fumbling and shaking hand.
Fuck!

“Let me go! You are NOT my father. I have a father and he is not you. I am not yours and I am NOT like you. I will never be like you!” I shout, exclaiming past the horror, and allowing my tone to declare its truth. I am not his. I am not.

And, I will never kill anyone. I could never hurt someone. Could I?

We struggle. His grips are intense, as if he is seizing me, compelling me to him. At one point, I command every ounce of my inner strength to battle him, and fight back with entire force. I twist within his grasp, finally able to remember how to free myself, and recall all of those damn self-defense techniques I used to bitch about. I hated going to those classes, and often told my dad I did not see the sense. Now, I wish I could hug him for insisting I go. Out of his hold, I kick him as hard as I can in his crotch and take off running, to Stefan, toward the door, stopping to grab the knife on my way.

Ouch!

He catches me in no time and yanks a fist of my hair, snatching me backward. My whole body jerks, as I am brought to an abrupt standstill before him, with my back facing his front. I cannot see him. The pain in my head is excruciating. I do not know what to do. I cannot think. What do I do?

Oh my God! Someone help me! Why is this happening?

I am trapped. It feels like he is pulling every strand of hair within his fist and ripping all of them from my scalp! I want to scream, but do not. I will not give him the power, or encourage him more. In this exact moment, I feel his hold on me loosen. It is in this instant that I see he is being hauled backwards. His hand frees, instantly giving my scalp minor relief. I feel lightheaded, and stars begin to circulate around the perimeter of my head as my vision becomes hazy.

I can hear the faint sounds of a struggle taking place. I grip the counter, slightly leaning forward to try to regain composure, and my eyesight. Total nausea overtakes me and I feel like I am going to hurl. I close my eyes, blinking them and praying it helps. I have to see. Squirming past the queasiness to move, I take a few short breaths. If I stay immobile, I am an easy target. Countless thoughts infiltrate my mind. Finally, after some more breaths, deeper this time, I stand upright, and turn myself around. Stefan!

He is wrestling this crazy asshole, and fighting to save – ME!

I glance down at the counter where the knife still lay clutched beneath my right palm. I swipe it up, getting a firm grip on the handle. I hear grunting, yelling and see blood flying from countless blows being sent back and forth between the two. Stefan is much stronger than I ever imagined.

Then…in this precise second, I hear Stefan crying out. “Aahh!” The echo of his scream immediately permeates the space.

My heart drops! My eyes fly over to the area where they now are; where the space between the kitchen and living room, which is where they have ended up during their struggle. Stefan’s body slumps to the floor. I do not know why, only that his cry makes my soul shudder.

No amount of time or space can influence the magnitude of the depth of my love for him. I know this now. Hearing someone I have grown close to and have fallen in love with scream out is such a degree of utter destruction compared to anything I have ever known before. Certainly, neither time nor space will ever define its value, or confine our ability to protect the ones we love.

It is now a matter of nature versus nurture. The man who claims he is my father is obviously a secret I have never known. He is a part of the past for which I do not want to know. The only thing I do know as surely as the air I breathe is I will kill him to save Stefan.

In a flash, I sprint over. I draw the knife as far back as I can in the stream of my steps. As I approach, the asshole turns around and looks me straight in the eye. I lock mine with his, and plunge the knife as hard as I can directly into his heart. He drops to the floor, pooling in his own blood, which continues to seep out from where I stabbed him.

His eyes are open, and he looks at me, saying, “You are just like me after all.”

Afterwards, he gasps, taking his last and final breath.

Oh my God! I killed him.

Stefan

Ren is not moving when I open my eyes and begin to struggle through my pain from being unconscious. I need to get to her. Slowly, I raise myself into a standing position. Needing to grab onto the back of the couch for balance, I grab the back of my head, which hurts like a bitch, and fight the feeling of being lightheaded after taking that whack to the back of my head. I don’t know what that fucker used, and frankly don’t give a fuck. I see her standing over his body. Blood covers her hands.

The first thing to invade my mind is whether this is what I was hired to protect her from? Was he the one in the van that day? He looks like it, but I couldn’t get a great view of him from where we were standing in the parking lot. I dismiss this particular thought accepting that it has to be him.

God, why couldn’t that ass tell me that I was protecting her from her biological father? Some dad he is…

Anger starts to boil for the dad that hired me to protect
my
girl from the dad that created her. How fucked up is this? All of this begins to swirl with the dimensions of this fucked up situation, but I can’t deal with it all right now.

Not. Right. Now. Right now, my girl is in shock. She needs me, and she is my first priority.

I go over to her, wrapping my arm around her waist. I twirl her around, bringing her closer to me hugging her tight. As soon as her head rests upon the center of my chest, sobs release.

A couple of split seconds pass before she sniffles, pauses and then says in a very low whisper, “Your heart is beating.”

I lay my head upon hers, kissing the strands of her hair, “Yes, baby…for you.” I close my eyes, giving thanks we are both okay.

“Come on. Let me get you outside where you can sit down. I have to make a few calls and don’t want you in here with…” I usher her out the door, allowing my words to fade.

Fifteen minutes or so pass, although it feels like so much longer, before the entire house is swarming with medical personnel, a coroner, local law enforcement, and … Ren’s parents. It feels like an eternity before they survey the ‘scene’, clear the room, separate me from Ren to take everyone’s statements, and collect evidence. They made me come inside, to keep us apart.

An entire lifetime feels like it occurs before they let me see her again after they had her looked at by the EMT’s. I wanted to be by her side when they did that. I should have been with her.
Fuck!
It is killing me slowly.

The hours of time finally resume to the point where I see her. She is with her mom and dad outside on the deck. All of the medicals and law enforcement officer gather their stuff to leave.

One stops, and looks at me, “You okay, kid? Want me to call someone for you?”

I gesture, ‘no’, and ask as he starts walking toward the door on his way out, “Hey! I can see her now, right?”

He nods, ‘yes’ but continues through the door. As I make my own way outside, I see
my
girl sitting there, shaking and alone.