Thirty-Three
Archer
I got up my room and collapsed on the bed. The fucking sheets were drenched in vanilla perfume. I threw them onto the floor and grabbed a pillow so I could hold onto it for comfort. When I did, a strand of hair fell off the pillow onto the mattress.
I hopped off the bed, grabbed the sheets and the pillows, and threw them onto the floor. Then I laid down. Her scent was still there, permanently embedded in my nostrils. A haunting reminder of what I’d done.
Guilt overwhelmed me. I tried to do something good by protecting Zoe, but I wound up doing something unforgivable. Or trying to, anyway. Mr. Beetle, no, Clarence. I had to remind myself he was a man, not a bug. Clarence was a dangerous psychopath, but in the end, I’d gone just as crazy as he was.
Shooting the man was one thing. He was going to kill Zoe. I was just protecting her. But after, once I’d subdued the man and tied him up, the threat was over. I was no longer trying to protect Zoe. I was going to murder a defenseless man in cold blood.
Clarence couldn’t possibly have fought me off. He was weak and small, and he didn’t know what he was doing. Whatever madness drove his actions wasn’t his fault. No one chooses to be crazy. His mind was broken. It blinded him to reason. He wasn’t in control of his actions. He was subject to a corrupting force. I’d ignored all that in my murderous rage.
Zoe never lost sight of that. She’d always seen past Clarence’s filthy clothes, his revolting smell, and his strange manners. She knew he deserved to be treated like anyone else, with dignity and respect. That’s why she never sent him away all those times he came into the shop.
And even after he’d gone full psycho on her, she didn’t want me to hurt Clarence without cause. She didn’t want him dead. She wanted him to get help. His life mattered to her, the way it should have mattered to me.
But it hadn’t. I was a monster, capable of disregarding somebody’s life because I was angry. Because I was scared. I kept going back to what I was thinking in the truck on the way to Zoe’s. I had every intention of killing Clarence, even before I knew what was happening at Zoe’s apartment. And I would’ve murdered that man if Zoe hadn’t stopped me. No wonder she never wanted to see me again.
She hadn’t actually said that, but I could tell from the look in her eyes that I terrified her now. I couldn’t blame her. I was terrified of whatever dark part of me had taken over at that moment. What kind of man was I? How could I look my sons in the eye knowing what kind of savagery I was capable of? How could I look Zoe in the eye?
I was surprised she didn’t tell the police what I’d done. I wish she would have. I deserved to face the consequences of my actions. I deserved to be punished. Maybe scaring Zoe away was punishment enough. Seeing that fear in her eyes when she looked at me seared my very soul.
I grabbed a fresh blanket from the closet, one that didn’t smell like Zoe. I kept the lights off. I couldn’t face the world. Seeing anything beyond my blanket sanctuary reminded me that I still existed. I was still breathing, and my heart kept pounding away.
Even though I’d stripped away all the bedding to get rid of Zoe’s scent, the mattress still smelled like her. I propped myself up against the wooden headboard. The edge drove into my spine. It felt right to experience a little pain. As much as it hurt, it was nothing compared to frightening Zoe.
Clearly, I didn’t deserve her. The woman was too good for a man like me. A man who lost control like that. A man who had murder in his heart. The smell of her perfume hovered around my head like spirits taunting me, reminding me of what we once had. And reminding me that all I had left of her now was the ghost of a memory. Eventually, her scent would fade from my world like she had, leaving me alone again. Leaving me empty.
I wished I could rewind the clock and change what had happened today. Just when I’d gotten Zoe back, I lost her again. By trying to protect her, I’d hurt her worse than I ever could have imagined. When I thought I was being strong, I was actually at my weakest. I promised myself, then and there, I’d never lose control like that again.
I had to be a better man. For my sons. And if I ever wanted to be good enough for a woman like Zoe. It was a hard lesson to learn, and it had come at too high a cost. I’d be paying the price for the rest of my life.