Chapter 2
“Time was passing like a hand waving from a train I wanted to be on. I hope you never have to think about anything as much as I think about you.”- Jonathan Safran Foer
At seven-thirty pm I stop at a diner in the middle of nowheresville, better known as Dexter, MO, for some lunch and a stretch, and then I keep right on going. My mind doesn’t rest. I keep thinking that my life is unfinished, that it’s missing something, someone.
I don’t have a plan. I figure I’ll just ride until I arrive someplace where I feel like I can breathe. Someplace I can just exist quietly. I’m not in control right now and that scares me. I need to be somewhere that is far away from Ezra Ash. Far away from the memories of the life I’ve decimated. I need someplace I can start over somehow.
Four hours later I’m ready to slit my wrists. The phone call I make to Aster during a pit stop is torture. Explaining something you can’t explain to yourself makes for an uncomfortable discussion. Horrified would be a good term to describe her thoughts on my situation. Horrified, disgusted, and heartbroken.
“Cypress White, what the hell is going on?! Your apartment is on the news! Cane...Honey, Cane’s...gone…” she cries. Hearing her confirm what I witnessed is harder than I thought it would be. I still held out hope, even a small trickle of it that maybe, just maybe, he’d survived. I roll my shoulders and crack my neck.
“I know, Aster. I was there,” I say flatly.
“WHAT?! Where are you now? Why didn’t you call me? What’s going on?” she wails into my ear.
“Aster, something happened. Ezra showed up, but Cane wasn’t home. He...” my voice trails off at the memory that I haven’t let myself revisit since that day. “I meant to shoot Ezra. I don’t know when Cane came in, I didn’t see him, I didn't hear him.” My last admission comes out as a sob. There’s silence at the other end of the line. “Aster?”
“I’m here,” she breathes. “Cypress, what did Ezra do to you?” My eyes fill with tears as I shudder.
“I...I can’t. Please, I can’t.” I sniffle, trying to regain composure. I push my memories down deep.
“Where are you?” she asks.
“Away. Aster, Ezra will look for me. You...you have to stay safe. I can’t tell you where I am.”
She blows out a long breath before answering me.
“Cyp, okay. So, you shot Cane by accident and instead of going to the cops you fled. Now you won't tell me where you are or where you’re going or what Ezra did to you to make you even think about shooting him. FUCK, girl, am I supposed to be okay with this?” Her voice is borderline hysterical.
“Aster,” I start, “the cops, there are so many dirty ones, so many in Ezra’s pocket. How could they protect me anyways? I wasn’t thinking really, I just left, I just moved my feet. It was instinct. If I hadn't I’d be dead too!” I shout back at her.
“Okay, okay. What am I supposed to do though? What if he comes asking questions? Jesus, am I in danger too?” she squeals.
“No. No, Aster, he can’t go on some kind of killing rampage, but he will find you. He will ask you where I am and he will push you for information but you don’t have any to give. I promise to call you once a week, okay? I promise. I won't skip a week, ever. I promise, he won't do more than badger you for information. He’s smart. Too smart to do something dumb.”
“Jesus, Cypress, this is bad. What about your dad? What the hell am I supposed to tell our families?” she squawks. Shit. I hadn’t even thought about that. I haven’t thought about anything at all since I pulled the trigger. I’ve just been...lost.
“Don’t tell them anything. I just...disappeared,” I offer lamely.
“As if!”
“Aster, they’ll hear the news about Cane and figure I was so grief-stricken that I lost it. I mean, I think I have lost it really. I have no idea what I’m doing. I have no idea how to be a ghost or disappear. Ezra has connections all over the place. I’m so lonely and scared. I just know that I have to do this.” Beyond losing Cane, there is no way I could be anywhere near Ezra Ash after what he did.
“You better call me every single week. I’ll ask around campus, see if anyone has connections for fake IDs or something. I'll help anyway I can, Cyp, but God, this is a disaster and it doesn't feel right. I don't think you’re doing the right thing by running. And what the hell do you mean, Ezra has connections?” she admonishes. But I can’t tell her the truth. I kept Cane’s family secrets because he was supposed to be getting out of the business. It wasn’t worth having people judge him. I sigh and drag my hand through my hair, pulling at the little knots.
“I don't know what else to do right now. Forget about Ezra. Just promise me I still have you. Even if it’s just on the phone. I need to know I have someone,” I plead with her.
“I promise, Cyp. You always have me. That’s what family is for, right?”
“Right.” I sniffle. “Look, I should go.” I tap the end button on the screen. When I tuck the phone back in my pocket, a sob tears through me but I climb back on the bike before I lose control of my body. I find another crappy motel, check in and spend the next hour lying in bed wallowing and thinking about what the right thing to do really is and wondering what exactly I’ll find if I let myself unzip the backpack fully.
A scream rips from my lungs as he tackles me to the ground. All the breath is knocked out of me from the weight of him landing on top of me. He flips me to my back. I claw at his arms and torso but he doesn't seem to feel pain. Tears stream down my face. This cannot be happening. I will not let this happen. I will not. A hand rears back before connecting with my cheekbone. The sick sound of the slap makes me scream out again. I taste blood in my mouth and swallow thickly to keep the bile rising up my throat down. He places his palms on my breasts and squeezes cruelly before he leans down to my face. I muster all my courage and spit in his mouth just before it touches me. I’m kicking my legs and twisting my hips furiously to break free but he’s so large I can’t shake him loose. He sits up and wipes his mouth. “Wrong move, Sugar,” he grinds out. His black eyes shine with hate. Or maybe it’s jealousy. Either way I need to think fast. I’m not fast enough, though. His fist connects with my temple sending white hot pain radiating through my body. Then everything fades to black.
Somewhere in a roadside motel room I wake up alone as the sun shines through the blinds. I wake disoriented and confused. Oh right, I up and left my life. Totally makes sense now. NOT. My anxiety is overwhelming. I push back the tears threatening to spill out of my eyes and move forward. I don't know how to do this. Just thinking about him throws me off course. Some days were always better than others but life was better with him. He said we would last forever. Who knew forever could be so short? Monsters swim around my head from all the words that we shared, all the touches, all the moments. He kissed my soul and now he’s gone. He’s gone and it is entirely my fault. I only wanted love, I didn't bargain for this. I check out at nine-thirty am, unable to be still with my thoughts any longer, and get on the road. My inner thighs and arms scream from being on the motorcycle for so long but I push through the burn in my muscles and continue. I’m not far enough away yet.