TWENTY-ONE
MATTHEW
SHE WAS GONE FOR AN AWFULLY LONG TIME.
Going toward the bathroom, I searched for Shannon, thinking maybe she had gotten caught up chatting with someone, but she was nowhere to be found.
I pulled out my phone to check if she had texted me or tried to call, but there was nothing there. I pulled up her messages and sent a text, but being so far out on the water, my phone had a shit signal.
“Excuse me,” I said, stopping a woman who was leaving the bathroom. “Was there a tall redhead in there?” I asked.
The lady shook head. “No one’s in there.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
She moved back toward the party, leaving me to search yet again for Shannon.
Thirty minutes later, I was beginning to panic.
Had she fallen overboard?
Could she swim?
Why hadn’t I asked her if she could swim?
I was scanning the decks, checking every square inch of the yacht as the pressure on my chest told me something wasn’t right.
“What’s going on?” Jonathan came up beside me and asked.
“I can’t find Shannon. I’ve looked everywhere.”
I turned in circles, checking the area around me once more, but again, there was no sign of her.
Jonathan clapped me on the shoulder and took a swig from his drink. “I’m sure she’s around here somewhere, man. Don’t stress it. Let her have a good time.”
“No, you don’t understand,” I started, but he turned and walked away, leaving me there in a panic.
Going to the lower deck, I saw Finch out of the corner of my eye pulling up alongside the yacht alone. I moved toward his boat, grabbing the rail and leaning over to speak to him.
“Hey, Finch, have you seen the young lady I came here with?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. I just dropped her at the dock.”
“What do you mean you dropped her at the dock? Alone?”
I jumped into his boat.
“She asked to go back, so I took her.” He shrugged.
I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling frantic.
She was alone. Downtown where dangerous people were everywhere.
“Take me to the dock. Show me where you left her.”
The boat ride to the dock seemed to drag on as if the yacht had moved farther out to sea when I knew for a fact it was anchored in place. When Finch pulled the boat up alongside the dock, I wasted no time jumping out before he had even idled the engine.
I ran down the dock, my shoes thumping along the wooden planks, but no one was there. Once I got to the shore, I searched the parking area only to find a couple going at in the back of a truck. I pulled my keys from my pocket and got in my car.
My phone lit up the inside of my car when I pulled it from my pocket and unlocked the screen. With a signal, I quickly typed out a text and sent it to her.
Me: Where are you?
Me: Are you okay?
No response.
My car roared to life when I cranked it, and I spun my tires when I pulled out of the parking lot and hauled ass toward Shannon’s apartment. I checked my phone the entire trip to her place, but she never returned my message.
Finally, I pulled up at her apartment building.
Her car was parked in front, which meant she hadn’t gone anywhere in her car. Going to her door, I knocked several times until finally Devin swung the door open with a furious expression.
“What the fuck, man? Why are you beating on the door this late at night?” he asked.
“Shannon,” I said losing my breath. “Is she here?”
“She’s not here. We thought she was with you.”
I didn’t respond.
Instead, I turned around and ran back to my car with Devin calling my name behind me.
I peeled out of the parking lot, not really sure where I was going. If she wasn’t with me and she wasn’t at home, the only other place I could think she might have gone was back to my place.
Again, I pulled out my phone and checked for a response.
Nothing.
I made it to my place in record time. Leaving my car on, I threw it in park and hopped out, searching my front porch to see if maybe she was sitting and waiting for me.
The porch and my house were empty.
“Fuck!” I shouted, making a run for my car yet again.
I climbed in, slamming the door behind me, and sat staring out of the windshield.
Where was she?
Checking my phone once again, I saw she still hadn’t responded. I typed out another message to her and hit send.
Me: Please, Shannon, let me know you’re ok.
A few minutes passed, then finally, my phone buzzed with a response.
Red: I’m ok.
I breathed a sigh of relief before I messaged back.
Me: What happened? Where are you?
Red: I’m sorry I left. I needed to get out of there.
Me: I would have left with you. If you weren’t in the mood to go anywhere, we could have stayed home.
Me: Where are you? I’ll come and get you.
Red: No.
Me: What do you mean, no?
Red: I’m sorry, Matthew. I can’t do this.
Me: What are you talking about? What can’t you do?
Me: Please tell me where you are.
Red: I’m sorry. It’s over.
My heart skipped, and I pressed the call button instead of texting. It rang once before she sent me to voicemail. I hung up and tried again, and again, her voicemail picked up.
Me: Please answer.
Me: What did I do?
Me: Let’s discuss this.
Red: I’m sorry.
Me: Don’t do this.
Me: I love you.
Minutes passed as I waited for a response. I called once again, feeling like a total ass, and the phone never rang. Instead, it went straight to voicemail.
Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed yet again.
Red: I don’t feel the same. I’m sorry.
I dropped my phone in my lap and pushed my face into my hands.
Something happened. There was no way she would change her mind about us so quickly. Whatever it was, we could get past it. I would give her the night to think it over and blow off steam or whatever she needed, and then I would go over and talk with her and see if we could fix the problem.
Me: I don’t believe you. I’ll see you tomorrow. Please get home safe. I love you.
TWO DAYS LATER AND I STILL HADN’T HEARD FROM HER.
I called and texted, but it seemed she had me blocked. I went to her apartment, but her car was never there. Only Lilly was working the store, and when I asked her what was going on, she seemed just as clueless as I was.
I was pulling my hair out trying to figure what happened. I was getting nowhere.
A week later and nothing.
Eating was making me feel sick, and most days, I would stay at home with my phone close by in case she changed her mind about me. After a few days of not leaving my house, I decided I needed to get out for a bit.
I drove down to Waterfront Park and sat on the same swing where I first kissed her. Depression hung over me like black smog, choking me when I breathed and making it next to impossible to fill my lungs to capacity.
I couldn’t breathe. I missed her so much my entire body ached.
The following day, I visited Twin Oaks. I hadn’t been there in a while, and I thought maybe Jermaine could cheer me up.
“Damn, dude, you look like shit,” he said, scrunching up his nose.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“No, for real, though, what the hell happened to you, man?”
“She left me.”
His face cleared and sorrow filled his eyes. “That sucks, bro. What happened?”
That was the million-dollar question.
I kept thinking if I knew what happened it would be easier to move past it, but I knew in my heart of hearts that was bullshit. I would never get over Shannon. She was it for me.
Being at Twin Oaks made the ache worse. Every inch of the building held memories of her, and I kept hoping that the longer I stayed there, the more likely I was to run into her. Sadly, I didn’t even know who she visited when she came. At least if I knew that, I could maybe question them.
Since I was there, I helped Jermaine clean the place. Going from door to door, I collected trash and replaced the bags with fresh ones. When I got to room three hundred, I tapped on the door and opened it to find Miss Iris sitting in her chair crocheting.
Her face lit up with a smile when she looked up and saw me standing in her doorway.
“Hey, honey, come on in.” She stood from her chair, shuffling across the floor toward me for a hug. “It’s been too long. I was starting to worry something happened to you.”
I wanted to open up to her—tell her all about Shannon and how badly she had hurt me—to see if maybe she had a clue why a woman would just up and disappear since I couldn’t seem to figure out why.
“Sorry about that. I’ve been a bit busy,” I said, going for her trash can and pulling out the bag.
“Don’t you worry yourself, hon. I might be old, but I remember what it was like to be young.”
She sat in her chair again, picking up her yarn and crocheting needles. When she did, she bumped a small box on the table, knocking it to the floor. The lid flew open and pictures spilled out.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I’m a clumsy old fool.”
She chuckled, trying to lean over and collect the things.
“I’ll get it, Miss Iris,” I said, making my way over and leaning down to pick up the box and photos.
When I leaned over, my eyes latched onto the photo on the very top.
It was a young girl with a long red braid hanging over her shoulder. She smiled at the camera, missing her front teeth, her green eyes sparkling with happiness.
My lungs deflated, and my fingers shook as I picked the photo up and held it closer to my face.
Shannon.
It was definitely my Shannon.
She was just a little girl, her features not as defined, her body skinny and unshapely, but it was her.
I looked up at Miss Iris, the picture dangling from my fingers.
“That’s my granddaughter,” she said, smiling proudly. “Isn’t she a beauty?”
I nodded, my voice caught in my throat.
All this time, Shannon had been visiting Miss Iris. All this time, her grandmother was a patient at Twin Oaks, and I never asked to know any better.
“She’s beautiful,” I whispered, feeling tears prick my eyes.
“Yeah. She’s having a bit of a hard time right now. My poor girl,” Miss Iris said, her crocheting needles clicking together as she started on her work again.
“Is that so?” I asked, hoping she would shed some light on the situation.
Obviously, she had no idea Shannon and I had a thing. Maybe she would open up to me about Shannon in casual conversation.
“Yeah. She confessed to me not long ago that a young man had pushed himself on her.”
I clenched my eyes tightly, remembering how broken she was. How hard she had cried in my arms when she told me her story.
“He seemed like such a nice boy, too. He came to my house to pick her for prom, and I approved. Sometimes, I think it’s my fault for letting her go out with him. I should have known better to let her mess around with one of the rich boys,” she continued, gossiping while she worked her fingers through the yarn. “His family lived on the lake in our town. A gorgeous house.”
I sat on the bed, my eyes moving over the many pictures of Shannon.
Shannon with braids and missing teeth.
Shannon with a big smile on her face and curls in her hair.
Shannon holding a trophy for junior varsity volleyball.
Then I reached a photo that made me pause.
It was Shannon and her prom date. Except the date had been cut from the photo and only his arm around her shoulders was still visible. They were standing on the front porch of an old run-down mobile home. She smiled into the camera, her red curls pinned on top of her head in an updo, and her eyes popping against her green prom dress.
She was young and beautiful.
Happy and unbroken.
But it wasn’t her beauty that had inflicted the massive amount of pain thumping around my chest.
It was the arm of the person standing next to her. He was obviously wearing a tux. I could tell that by looking at the part of his leg still visible in the photo, but he must have removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves a bit because his arm was visible. On that arm was a birthmark I knew well.
A crescent-shaped mark that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
He was her prom date … the asshole who had raped her and altered her forever.
And that arm belonged to my best friend.
It was Jonathan.
The only guy in the world I gave a shit about had been the one to destroy the woman I loved all those years ago.
THE YACHT WAS EMPTY AND DARK, anchored at the end of the dock like a shady ghost ship full of immorality.
I walked down the dock, my fists clenching at my sides and my heart feeling hard and empty. The water lapped at the posts holding the dock up, filling the air around me with the sounds of slapping and seagulls.
Once I made it on board, I walked across the top deck, heading to the exact spot I knew I would find him.
He was lounging next to the fire wearing a sweater since it was a cool day in Charleston. Winter would be coming soon, and the heat of the South was starting to wind down. He stared at the sky, and I knew his eyes were closed behind his shades.
He was relaxing.
Enjoying his life as if he had never done any wrong.
Well, I knew differently.
I knew he was a fucking monster disguised as a friend.
I stepped up next to his lounge chair, tapping the bottom of it with my shoe. He jerked, ripping his shades from his eyes and squinting up at me.
“Holy shit, man. You scared the fuck out of me.” He slid his shades back on and sat up. “What’s up, man? Where have you been?” he asked.
He was pretending nothing was wrong, but I knew the second I introduced Shannon, he knew who she was. You didn’t just forget a woman you raped. You couldn’t strike something like that from your mind, and if you could, you were colder than expected.
“It was you,” I said, feeling the burn of fury behind my eyes.
I wanted to pounce—rip him apart—show him what kind of pain he had inflicted.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about,” I snapped.
Again, he pulled his shades from his face, his eyes moving over my expression before he set them on the table at his side.
“Look, man, I don’t know what she told you, but I can assure you it was consensual.”
I sniffed. “You’re a piece of shit. You know it wasn’t consensual.”
He chuckled. “You can’t rape the willing, man. She was wet. She wanted it.”
My fists clenched at my sides as I struggled to control myself.
“You son of a bitch. You knew she wouldn’t press charges. You fucking knew it.”
He laughed. “You’re seriously worked up over this? Look, she chased me all through high school. I took her out. Showed her a good time. It was the least I could do, considering …” He held his hands out at his sides as if he was referring to her size and calling her large. “I had no idea you were into big girls, man, but props. She was an excellent fuck.”
I snapped, jumping on him like a wild animal.
I beat him in the face, throwing punches as if he hadn’t been my best friend for the past few years… as if he was a total stranger.
I had promised I wouldn’t kill him, but I hadn’t promised I wouldn’t beat the living shit out of him.
He didn’t fight back, but I only got a few hits in before the police were pulling me off him. They slung me to the side, and I sat up just in time to see Jonathan tossed onto his stomach on the deck as he got handcuffed from behind.
“Jonathan Reins, you’re under arrest for …”
The sound of the police officer’s voice faded away. Jonathan locked eyes with me, and I smirked, letting him know I was the one who had called and reported him.
Shannon was too afraid to press charges. She wanted no part of going to court and reliving her past, but I wasn’t okay with him walking the streets as a free man. If he wasn’t going to prison for hurting the woman I loved, he was at least going to serve time for selling guns, drugs, and everything else I could pin on him.
And as they pulled him to a standing position and began to walk him toward the dock, I smiled up at him from my spot and said the words I knew would haunt him the entire time he was behind bars.
“Keep your ass dry in prison, pretty boy. Remember, if it’s wet, you want it.”