Love Her Wilde

Missing Pieces: Asher

I don't remember a whole lot of that night, if I'm being honest. At least, not much after I actually arrived at Dylan's.

Or near Dylan's rather.

It was hard to get past all the cop cars and emergency vehicles that lined her street.

I remember leaving the office, high as the fucking sky with excitement and optimism over the night ahead. I wasn't even going home to change because I just wanted her. After three days of nothing, not even a text, all I wanted was to be in her presence again. I wanted to be near her, to see her, to touch her, to hear her laugh and her voice and... even in three days, it had felt like I'd lost my sun and I was just spinning aimlessly in the dark. I needed my center.

I remember stopping off and buying out a flower shop's whole stock of gardenias because they were Dylan's favorite. I remember their smell from the seat beside me, the same intoxicating aroma her skin had fresh out of a shower. I remember thinking that she made the scent better, and I couldn't wait to smell it on her skin instead of the flowers.

I remember getting into my Range Rover, two bags, full to the brim with takeout. I remember splurging on a double order of Rangoons, just because I wanted to see the amused smile she would give me for it. I remember stopping and getting our favorite wine, a French vintage we'd discovered together in Hawaii. The kind that had become our wine. Dylan always chastised me for getting it because of the price point, but it made her happy. And all I wanted to do was make that woman happy. Forever, if she'd let me.

The rain had died off (finally), but there were a lot of lights out from the storm causing cars to stop and go, one at a time. Even the annoyance of that didn't faze me, however. All I cared about was getting to my girl. All I cared about was wrapping her in my arms and keeping her there. I knew we had plenty to discuss. I knew that we were more than likely going to argue a bit, but I didn't care, because in the end, at least we'd be doing it together.

As I drove along, there was standing water along the curbs, in people's yards, lining all the streets. The rain had made quite the mess, but it felt cleansing in a way. Or maybe I just felt that way because I didn't know what was awaiting me. Now, remembering, it probably should've felt like more of a bad omen. I remember pulling off to the side as police lights came speeding up on my tail. At least four cars, and then an ambulance, whizzed past me, and nothing. My head didn't even think that they could be heading toward my unconscious girlfriend, beaten and bloody to the point she was unrecognizable. My Dylan left to die on the floor of her bedroom, her own blood pooling around her like the rain on the ground outside. I was so blissfully unaware of what was going on, that I pulled back onto the street behind them, jamming to whatever peppy pop song was on the radio, practically bouncing with excitement the nearer I got to her house. But when I turned that final corner...

It was like the oxygen had been sucked out of my lungs, out of the entire car. My heart climbed its way into my throat, where it tried to tell me that everything was okay. They weren't there for her. They were there for some old neighbor or something, someone I didn't know about. There was no way the sirens and flashing lights were for Dylan, not my Dylan, not my dream girl waiting my arrival...

But even has my heart pled its case, my brain knew. I threw the Range Rover into park, three houses down from Dylan's. They had the majority of the street taped off, but people were starting to gather around the bright yellow borders. Neighbors, looky-lous of all sorts, whispering and voicing their unfounded hypothesis of what had occurred. They gazed upon the scene as if it were some form of entertainment instead of an actual crime scene.

My ears were ringing like I'd just climbed out of the ocean, all echo-y and full of water. My heart rapidly pounded in my ribs as I attempted to dodge the growing crowd of onlookers and the cops at the same time. I knew they'd stop me from going in. I knew they'd try to keep me away but... I didn't care, and it sure as hell wasn't going to stop me.