Blair

It’s been almost a week since I closed the door on Jake. Almost a week that I’ve been sleeping on Whitney’s couch and almost a week of crying myself to sleep every night. I’ve taken so many showers I’ve lost count, scrubbing at my skin until it is an angry shade of pink. Doing everything I can to try and rid myself of the feelings that day left in me. Every time I close my eyes I picture Jake’s brother: the broken tooth, the seedy eyes. I hear the dirty words he spoke play on repeat in my mind and sometimes they make me feel like I’m going crazy.

I just want them to stop; I want it all to stop.

It's like a bee buzzing around in my head, taunting me, making me feel as though at any moment I’ll feel its sting. I’m afraid to leave because I am always fearful of seeing them again. At every turn I imagine them being there to face me, being unable to escape them, and having them go through with the threats they made.

I’ve noticed the way Whitney and Sadie look at me, like at any second I’m going to spiral out of control and become nothing more than some crazed lunatic. I’ll admit it I feel it too; I’m barely hanging on to my sanity, or so it feels.

“Are you hungry?” My body jerks in reaction to the sound of Whitney’s voice. Instantly I notice the sadness settle in her eyes. This, my situation, it’s eating away at her too. “I think you need to go to the cops.” She sits down at my side as slow and gentle as possible.

“Tell them what? That Zeke Gunther and his sons fucked me over in more ways than one?” It feels so surreal. “I just want to forget about it all. Forget Jake or Cyrus or whoever he is. I want to forget that I met him, that I believed him, and let him touch me.” I curl just a little tighter into the blanket that surrounds me. “All I want is to find a place that I can walk outside again and not be scared of who I’ll face.”

“What are you saying?”

I’ve thought it over, every hour, every minute. It’s all I’ve thought about. I’ve gone over option after option in my mind and they all lead me back to one thing.

“I think I need to start over.” I look up at my best friend once more and fight against the fear of the unknown that has been haunting me daily. “I just don’t think I’ll ever feel safe if I stay here.”

There are a few passing seconds of silence before Whitney slides in closer to my side and hugs me tight. “So where are we going?”

“Whit—”

“Don’t even consider the notion that I will let you leave without me following right behind.” She smiles at me, real and genuine for the first time in days.

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You never asked, which let me say right now up front how offensive that is.” She bumps her shoulder playfully against mine. “But laying those feelings aside, you should know by now that I need you in my life just as much if not more than you need me. So there really isn’t any reason for us to sit here and go back and forth over it. The only thing left for us to do is decide where we’re going.”

“That’s the thing,” I whisper as I look away from her. “I don’t know where to go.”

“Home.”

I close my eyes as I feel the threatening tears. When she says “home” she means hers. But in a sense, I guess it is mine too. It’s the one place I always feel like I’m accepted, like I belong. Whitney’s parents are the only true parents I ever felt I had. Being raised in foster care wasn’t a joyous event. Some kids are lucky to be placed with that loving couple that finds nurturing a child in need as their calling. My foster parents were not those people; they were the kind that didn’t ask you about your day or tell you that you looked pretty when you spent hours fixing yourself up. They were distant and the only thing they enjoyed about sharing their home with me was the check they received around the first of every month. I never knew what it felt like to be loved by a parent until the Flannigans opened their home to me. It was almost as if they had an adopted daughter they didn’t need to be paid to love. They just did it because they were good people.

It made me wonder why Whitney and I ever decided to leave Iowa. But then at the time we’d chosen to leave we were two young girls fresh out of community college thinking that we understood all there was to know about life. Now here we are, a few years later, realizing that we knew nothing.

“I think home sounds perfect.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Whitney asks as she sits in the driver's seat behind the wheel of her Ford Fusion. “Sadie and I can go in and pack everything for you.”

“I’m good.” I glance over and give her a reassuring smile, then take a look over my shoulder at Sadie and find her watching me closely. I’ve noticed lately she looks tired, maybe even stressed. I worry about her, how she’ll fend in the city without Whitney and me around. Granted, she lived here long before us, but for the last couple years, the three of us have always been together.

“But I know that I need you both with me too.”

Sadie places her hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. “We wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

After a few more minutes we all climb out of Whitney’s car and move toward the front door of my apartment building. This place holds nothing but bad memories, first with Nate then with Jake. Every time I think of his name I catch myself. It isn’t even his name, yet calling him anything else feels wrong.

I really want to forget this place even exists, but to do that I need to get all my things and move on.

When I place my key inside the lock and twist the handle I’m met with the familiar scent of cinnamon. After Nate left, I did all I could to rid the place of the smell of his cigarettes, among other things. Cinnamon candles, potpourri, you name it I used it.

But as I move through the small space I’m hit with the memories of my last nights here. Nights that were spent with Jake, the smiles, and laughter mixed with the fact that we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves. The knowledge that all the words he spoke were nothing more than lies makes me feel sick to my stomach. The reality is that he is a Gunther; that alone speaks for itself. They are dangerous and know no limits.

I shiver involuntarily as I hear in my mind the low whisper of his brother's words.

“We don’t have to do this today.” Whitney steps up to my side, obviously aware of the discomfort I’m feeling. I can’t miss the concern in her eyes. “We’ve still got time to clean things up before we leave.”

We are waiting it out until her lease is up so she can get her deposit back. Thankfully that is only another few weeks. I’m not sure I can take much more than that.

“I’m okay.” I’m not okay, not even close, but I refuse to let the fear overtake me any more than it already has. “Let’s just get this over.”

The three of us move around the apartment, gathering the small number of things I have. I used to hate that my place always felt so empty. But now I am thankful; it means I have very little to worry about moving.

Going back to Ankeny will be a fresh start, or so I hope. I want to forget everything about Chicago because nothing good ever came of my years here. I knew nothing would.