Something must be very wrong with me. My eyes must be playing tricks on me as they have so many times before. I must be dreaming or hallucinating, an unwelcome flaw from my trauma as a child. But this felt different from the other times, this felt ...
... real.
But it couldn't be. This couldn't be real. Because the person who had asked that simple question, that one word, it was the boy I've been dreaming about since that night ten years ago. His crop of dusty brown hair, those stormy grey eyes. They were exactly the same. But he was so different as well. A chiseled jaw, ungodly bone structure, broad shoulders, and full lips. Features that had once belonged to a still undeveloped boy.
Now he stood before me, as a man.
Ace.
Something snapped in my chest, something painful. What was going on? How could this be happening? Ace was dead, he died a long time ago. I knew that to be true yet here he stood before me, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.
This had to be some sick joke right? Maybe Jason was behind it, or maybe Lady. Maybe it was grandma, her own strange way of welcoming me back. But, none of that made sense. I couldn't imagine why my brother or my best friend or my own grandmother would want to put me through so much pain. They all knew how important Ace had been to me, how horrific that night was.
Everyone else around us had frozen by now, looking back and forth between me and the boy who had spoken the nickname Ace used to call me due to my obsession with Filly, my stuffed bunny. But my mind refused to believe that this boy was Ace. It has taken me ten years and counting to get over what happened that night and the only thing that brought me relative peace was knowing Ace was somewhere better, resting in peace where his horrible parents couldn't reach him. If this was the boy who saved me all those years ago, then that meant he didn't die that night. And he's been living with those monsters all this time.
I couldn't accept that.
His grey eyes were wide, so stormy and deep that I feared I might fall prey to their depths. His mouth had gone slack, hanging slightly open as his breath caught. When I didn't reply, or move, the boy took one step closer, his head cocking to the side as if he too couldn't believe was he was seeing. When his head tilted, I saw it. The small scar marking the skin on his neck in the shape of an 'X', the scar his father gave him the night Ace set me free.
I was knocked backwards, almost off my feet.
It was him, it was really him.
Ace was ... alive.
Another strange and painful snap entered my heart but this time, it was almost desired. Because it also freed me from the trance of disbelief I was under. My fingers curled into fists at my sides, my bottom jaw chattered as it always did when I got anxious, and my feet moved me another step back. Away from the man in front of me.
Was this all just a dream? A very impressive and terribly vivid dream?
Creston's eyes were wide as well, his gaze raking over me then shifting to Ace, then back to me, "Wait. You mean this is ... this is her?"
I flicked my eyes to Creston, then back to Ace who by now looked like he had seen a ghost. I could relate. His eyes were so bright and bottomless, just like before. I couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't breath. He remembered me. He ran his fingers through his hair, his hands shaking, taking a deep breath in the process. The confusion and surprise in his features deepened with each passing second, then he locked gazes with me once more and asked with uncertainty, "Genevieve ... is that you?"
My reflexes kicked in.
And I ran.
My body was moving before I even knew what was happening. In seconds I was out of the gym and in the hallway where students were talking amongst themselves, waiting for rides or for friends. But I wasn't waiting for anything or anyone, not right now. I had to get away from here, away from these people.
Away from Ace.
My legs carried me through the school, through the lobby, and out into the parking lot. Grandma told me this morning that she would be a late picking me up but that was a blessing sent from above now. Because I needed time, to think.
How could Ace be alive? All these years I thought he was dead when really he had been in the same shitty town, living with the same shitty parents. How could I not have known, how could no one have told me? My parents must have known. Grandma must have known.
Why hadn't anyone told me?
Fear and panic clawed at my chest, causing my heart to beat into overdrive. How could this be happening? It's been years, ten years. He couldn't possibly be alive after all this time. It was impossible.
Impractical.
Unbelievable.
"Genevieve, stop!" The command came from behind me. That voice, still it affected me in so many ways after all this time. Back then, I didn't understand why his voice rattled my bones and shivered down my spine. I was only eight. Nearly ten years later and the answers still evaded me.
As if no time and passed, I obeyed. My feet halted, bringing my body to a stop. I was breathing hard, panting. My heart was pounding so loudly that I almost couldn't hear myself think. All I could hear was the blood rushing through my ears. Heat crept up the back of my neck, settling in my cheeks and ears, the type of heat that made my insides melt.
Slowly, so slowly, I turned. And there he was. Standing just a few feet away with winded hair and wild eyes, just as I remembered from when we were kids. I'd be sitting on the front porch and he'd come running up the driveway, waving. And I'd wave back, meeting him at the porch steps.
He hasn't changed much. Then again, he was entirely different. He wasn't that slender little boy anymore. Now he was tall, muscular, with broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw, no longer blemished by bruises or cuts. He had grown up into a man I used to dream about when I was younger. My fantasies of Ace as a man had always be a fiction of my imagination, a way of coping with what I knew to be true. That Ace would never be a man, because he was murdered as a child.
But that statement was entirely incorrect. Because this was most certainly him and he was most certainly alive.
He was breathing deeply too, slowly stalking closer. His chest rose and fell with the movement, but it was fluid. His whole body moved with a grace he never had as a child. Now he walked across the earth with purpose and power, dominance. Not like when we were kids and his obedience was blindly handed to his father unwillingly. He was in control now, holding authority over his surroundings and over me. While I cowered in my spot, my knees shaking and threatening to buckle, he neared ever closer with an intense glint in his eyes that nearly shattered me.
Those eyes. They reminded me of clouds, darkened and weighed down by rain with the promise of a coming storm. Yes, I remembered those eyes. I could stare into them for hours.
"It is you, isn't it?" He stopped just short of my figure, still breathing hard and still staring with gaping eyes. But a look of incredulous relief was hidden behind the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Eventually, he let out a long breath and muttered, "Do you know who I am?"
Of course I knew who he was. He was my savior, my friend in a world gone bad. He was the only reason I stood here today, he was my everything.
I swallowed roughly, my mouth becoming more dry the longer I stood here. Ace waited for me to respond, his eyes shifting between mine then down to my lips as if he could coarse the words from my mouth. But I was unsure of what to say, how to say it. I didn't talk much. I was quiet as a kid but he didn't know how silent I had become.
All from that night. All because of what I thought I had done to him.
Ace's eyebrows drew together in confusion. He licked his lips, "Say something."
My mouth fell open, eager to obey his demands, but no words came. I didn't know what to say. What could I say that would make him understand all the suffering I've been through, all the emptiness I felt, because I thought his death was on my hands?
Because I wasn't good enough to save him.
My lips parted and only two barely audible words were released, "You're alive."
Ace's face contorted further, confusion hitting him hard. Clearly, no one has told him that I've spent the last ten years of my life blaming myself for not being able to save him as he had for me. So many nights I spent crying myself to sleep thinking that his death was on my hands, a death that never even happened.
A cold wave of sheer panic washed over me, a foreboding sign of what was to come.
Oh shit. This couldn't be happening, not now. Not here.
With a different agenda on my mind, I turned again and started running. Ace's voice was lost this time under a loud car horn that went off in the parking lot. Good. Because if he had told me to stop again, I would have. Obeying him was my only option, it was the only thing that kept me alive when we were locked in that basement together.
But this feeling, this panic that settled in my stomach, it was different. It wasn't the kind I felt all day while stumbling from class to class. This panic was the kind that knocked me unconscious. I had panic attacks a lot, some days not as bad as others. But this was a feeling I knew all too well. This was going to take it's toll on me.
My legs carried me far and fast, pumping me farther and farther through town, to the backroads. I didn't feel the heat anymore, the sweat dripping down my back and forehead was nearly nonexistent. There was only one thing on my mind and that was getting back to grandma's so I could suffer in solitude as I have since I was eight.
It took a long time to get back though. Luckily, the adrenaline combated my panic, allowing me to get home without passing out on the side of the road. Grandma's house finally came into view and a swirl of joy dispelled the fear I felt inside. But as I took those porch steps two at a time and threw my body through the front door, the terror returned.
Instant chills met my skin from the AC blasting in the house. My bag dropped to the floor as I fought to control my breathing. But it was no good, I couldn't stop it now.
I shuffled into the living room, falling to my knees near the couch as black spots danced across my vision. Then the room began to spin, my breaths coming quicker as my pulse throbbed uncontrollably. I felt the floor shift under me just then and soon the darkness took over completely.
******
My eyes cracked open. They were heavy and hurt but that wasn't anything new. What was new, however, was where my body currently rested. On the couch, not the floor. Someone had moved me. Oh great, grandma probably came home and saw me collapsed on the floor. Now she was going to call the shrink and force me to see another therapist.
A hand fell on my forehead, checking my temperature. But it wasn't my grandma's hand, because this hand was a lovely shade of brown. My eyes followed the hand up to an unfamiliar face of a woman with wide brown eyes, high cheek bones, and black hair pulled back tightly into a bun. She watched me carefully, her eyes swirling with concern.
But who was she?
Her gaze met mine, and she leaned back, quickly snatching her hand back towards her body. She didn't say anything, she only sat there, watching me. I gently pushed myself up into a sitting position which resulted in the woman distancing herself from me substantially.
"Who are you?" I asked quietly, my arms still shaking from the panic attack. It was going to take a while at least for my body to calm itself down. Taking a bath would probably speed up the process but I wouldn't be able to sit still long enough. Not after everything I just learned.
The woman stared at me a bit longer before she patted my knee, "My name Elena. I clean house."
My eyebrows rose, "What?"
"My name Elena, I clean house." She repeated. She had a heavy accent that I couldn't quite place, Jamaican possibly? She pointed a single finger into the air and smiled, "My English no good. Donna my friend, good friend."
"Oh." I replied, lifting a hand to my forehead to dull the ache growing behind my eyes.
Elena became worried and put her hand over mine, "You okay? Genveev sick?"
Her pronunciation of my name was off but it didn't bother me. I gave her a reassuring smile to show that I was fine, "No, I'm not sick."
"You on floor. I found on floor." Elena pushed further, her warm hands cupping my face. She bent forward to look into my eyes as if having a different angle might offer new answers. When I didn't answer Elena took hold of my jaw and ordered, "Genveev stick out tongue. I look."
What?
"It's okay, I'm fine." I told her again, slipping off the couch. I swayed a little on my feet but leaned on the wall for support. Elena stood too, still watching me. She was taller than I was, slim, with lanky arms and legs. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and an orange blouse that hung loosely on her petite shoulders. She was beautiful, much too pretty to be cleaning houses.
Just then the front door opened and grandma rushed in. Her eyes landed on me almost instantly and I saw her entire figure sigh in relief, "Genevieve, thank God you're here. I sat in that parkin' lot for a half hour, I told you I was going to pick you up at the school."
Elena cleared her throat and nodded towards me, "Genveev sick."
Grandma looked back towards me, "You're sick?"
I shook my head, "No. I'm fine."
Grandma turned to stare at Elena again who had narrowed her eyes at me. Elena shrugged, throwing her hands into the air before she grumbled, "Genveev sick, Maggie. Listen to Elena." Then Elena patted grandma's shoulder before she disappeared from the room. She seemed very observant, I'd have to be extra careful around her.
"Who's Elena?" I wondered, rubbing my arms to bring feeling back. Panic attacks were never fun, especially not the bad ones. I didn't always pass out but when I did, the side effects lasted long afterwards. This one particularly was pretty bad, more so than usual. But under the circumstances I couldn't blame my body for reacting that way. It had become a common defense mechanism for me.
Grandma looked after Elena, "She's an old friend of mine. She started cleanin' houses a few years ago and wasn't gettin' many customers so I hired her to get the ball rollin'. She's been cleanin' for me ever since and now her business is boomin'."
"Oh." I replied simply.
"So, you're sick? Is that why you came home?" Grandma asked, returning her attention to me. Was I really ready to call this place my home? Grandma stepped closer, also lifting a hand to my forehead as Elena had. Was that their answer to everything? Feel for a fever and go from there?
I stepped backwards, "I'm fine, grandma. Elena heard me cough ... from the dust. Outside."
Grandma let her mouth fall open, "Uh huh. You sure? That's it?" I rolled my lips into my mouth and nodded. I was an awful liar but I would never stop trying because I had to get better eventually, right? But that day wasn't today. Grandma pulled me towards the couch and sat me down, "Listen honey, things are gonna go south real fast if you start lyin' to me."
I had two options. I could continue 'attempting' to lie, and pray that grandma just moved on from the subject. Or I could tell her the truth about why I came home early. I'd leave the panic attack out of it, she didn't need to know that much, but maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to tell her. And from the look she was giving me, she'd beat the truth out of me if I didn't offer one voluntarily.
My eyes dropped to the floor, then zoned in on my fingers currently wringing in my lap. I just had to spit it out, something I was no good at. I could already feeling my throat closing up, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth-
"Genevieve." Grandma encouraged, her tone stern. She wasn't going to wait much longer.
I closed my eyes briefly, taking a calming breath. This was one time when my words were needed not just desired. I whispered out slowly, "He's alive."
Grandma rose a single eyebrow, "Who's alive?"
Another deep breath, another war within my own mind. But I'd already come this far, why not just finish it, " ... Ace. He's alive."
There was a long stretch of silence. I waited for her to jump to her feet and start accusing me of lying like so many other have. If she didn't think I was crazy before, she definitely did now. She was going to call up the cops and tell them to come get me. Then Jason will come down next week and wonder where I am and Grandma will tell him they're both better off without me.
Everyone would be better off without me.
But what happened was very different than what I expected.
"Well of course he's alive. The kid's as healthy as a horse as far as I know." Grandma informed, taking hold of my hands. When my eyes snapped up to meet hers, I saw that she looked rather ... unaffected, "No one told you?"
I shook my head, my eyes as wide as before. She knew he was alive? This whole time? "Why didn't you say anything?"
Grandma shrugged, scratching at her temple, "I assumed you knew. I mean, your momma wouldn't let me talk to you after what happened so I had no clue what she told you. Then again, I guess she thought you didn't remember any of it so I can't imagine why she'd tell you at all."
I jumped up from the couch, holding my head in my hands as I paced the room, "But how? If he was alive ... this whole time ... what happened to his ... parents?"
Grandma leaned back against the couch, crossing her arms once more, "I don't know sweetheart. You'd have to ask Ace about that one. The kid kept to himself. An officer went over there all the time but he never made any arrests so I guess he never found adequate evidence. Why don't you just ask him yourself-"
"No." I answered quickly, too quickly. Grandma gave me a look, one that was asking why I wouldn't talk to the boy who has been plaguing my mind since I was eight. My heart was racing again as I tried to explain myself, "I can't talk to him ... I can't-"
A series of knocks sounded throughout the house, cutting off my voice.
Grandma looked towards the door, "Who could that be?" She was on her feet and heading towards the door before I had time to react. She pulled the door open and I heard that dreadfully familiar voice mutter a hello to my grandmother. Then she replied back with a hearty, "Well Ace Hunt, I'll be damned. We were just talkin' about you. What the hell have you been up to boy? Come on in."
I backed farther into the room, wrapping my arms around myself. But I was cornered with no hope of escape. No, no, no. This couldn't be happening right now. I was going to have another panic attack. I could feel it coming. The quick breaths, the pounding heart, the spinning room. I couldn't go through this again, not twice in one day.
"Sure, she's right over here." Grandma's voice reached my ears, then she appeared in the living room. Smiling knowingly. She was doing this on purpose. And just behind her was ...
... him.
Ace. That mess of brown hair, those gorgeous turbulent eyes, those shoulders and arms, and that face. A face that would make an angel swoon, currently making me swoon. The only thing keeping me on my feet was the overwhelming and nearly harrowing reality that Ace was alive. Standing in front of me.
With his hands in his pockets, he entered the room step by step. When his gaze met mine, I saw them flash with an emotion I wasn't familiar with. He stayed near the entrance, far from me. Cautious. As if he were scared that if he got too close, I might vanish. Funny, I felt the same about him. He looked shaken, possibly a little scared, but overall he just looked shocked.
He wasn't alone though. Just behind him was Creston, his face still holding that look of befuddlement and worry. Standing next to Creston was a girl, one I recognized vaguely from my gym class. She was tall and busty, with gorgeous blonde hair curling in perfect ringlets down her back and lovely green eyes the same shade as a healthy meadow. With full lips and high cheekbones, she was model worthy. Gorgeous beyond comparison.
But why were they here?
Why were any of them here?
Grandma looked back and forth between Ace and I, then she slowly backed out of the room, "I'll just give you two some time to get reacquainted." Then she shot me a quick wink and retreated from the room, still smiling.
I couldn't move, I couldn't breath. This was all too surreal. Thoughts swirled through my mind at a dizzying rate. I've waited for this moment for ten years. To be able to see Ace one more time, tell him how sorry I am for not being able to convince my parents and the officer that Ace was in the basement that night. I've blamed myself for so long, but the blame was misplaced.
Because Ace was alive. How many times would that thought run through my mind before it actually registered?
My words came out quiet as usual but so much more eager, "You're alive."
Ace's mouth parted, in awe maybe.
Then he was standing in front of me, faster than I thought to be possible. And his arms, they were around me, holding me, embracing me. I felt one hand at my back, pulling me tightly into his body. I felt another hand at the back of my head, cradling me against him. My body remained stiff, not entirely sure how to react. But soon my limbs were moving on their own.
I reached up and tangled my arms tightly around his neck. In that moment, I knew for sure. He was real. I felt him in my hands, heard his heart beating rapidly within his chest. He was real, alive. Finally, my body and mind understood that.
"I never thought I'd see you again." I heard Ace whisper into my hair, laughing quietly to himself. A sad laugh but a relieved one. He took a deep breath, not just of air but of me as well, "I just can't believe you're here."
My eyes began to sting but for the first time in a very long time, these tears weren't from sorrow or guilt or fear. These tears were from happiness. I pulled back to look at him, holding an almost desperate urge to take in his every feature. He smiled down at me, a dimple appearing in the side of his right cheek. I remembered that dimple, I always liked that dimple.
His hands slid up to my face, holding it firmly yet so gently in his hands as though I might break, "Why are you crying?"
I placed my hands over his, relishing in the feeling of his skin on mine. I took a deep breath, preparing to fight myself for the words. But my voice came easily this time, without hesitation, "I thought you were ... dead."
Ace's jaw locked, a muscle working, and his head bent closer to mine, "What do you mean?"
With my legs still shaking and my heart sputtering wildly, I pushed away from Ace and headed for the couch. I needed to sit down, I couldn't handle all of this. Ace trailed after me, sitting right beside me, unnecessarily close. But I liked it, I liked it a lot.
Creston and the girl remained where they were near the entrance of the room, watching Ace and I carefully. The girl especially seemed to be entirely lost, dazed even. But I didn't know her, I couldn't imagine why she was here.
My eyes swept back up towards Ace's, "What happened to you?"
Ace was quiet for a while, his fingers finding my kneecap and brushing over the skin there. When he finally looked up, I saw that those torrid eyes were wild once more, "Nothing, I was fine."
"You were never fine." I countered, taking his fingers in my grasp if only to prove to myself that he was still real, "Tell me what happened. Please."
Ace sighed, smiling bitterly to himself, "Nothing really. I got you out and my dad ... well, you remember I'm sure. He got pissed. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in that hole. I convinced myself that you made it back and were alright but ... I never knew for sure. No one would talk about you and Donna said your mom wouldn't let you come back. And that was the end of it."
Just like that, he gave up so easily? I would have crossed oceans if I knew he were still alive.
"So this is her then?" The girl at the far end of the room asked. Her doe eyes were wide and her cheeks were dusted in a bright red as if she were blushing. Creston glanced at her quickly when she spoke further, "This is the girl you told us about?"
An acute twinge penetrated my heart. I looked back to Ace with incredulity fresh in my eyes, "You told them?"
Ace seemed thrown by my reaction, "Um, yeah. You already know Creston and that's Holly, they're my friends."
Creston scratched at the back of his head and offered up the sweetest smile I've ever seen, "Don't be fooled darling, I'm his best friend."
"That's fine, you can be his best friend." The Holly girl playfully hit Creston on the arm before wandering further into the room, her face now wearing a small and friendly smile when she neared, "Because I'm his girlfriend so I'm entitled to my own rights."
Another blow to my heart. I felt my face literally peel away to reveal the desolate expression underneath. The blood drained from my cheeks. This girl was his ... girlfriend? Not that I should care, it shouldn't matter. But for some reason ... it did. It caused an ache to enter my chest, one so profound it affected the way that organ was beating. As kids, it was always just Ace and I. Sometimes Jason, but never in the same sense. Ace and I were always ... connected.
But now, he had a girlfriend. And Creston. He had friends to lean on. He didn't need me anymore. Not in the same way that I needed him.
Holly didn't seem to notice the destruction happening within my mind, though I think Ace did. Holly's smile grew and her eyes lit up which inevitably made her face all the more gorgeous, "Ace has been talking about you since the day I met him. I just can't believe you're actually here. He always left your name out but he explained everything that you guys went through and I can only imagine your suffering."
Suffering? What did this girl know about suffering?
My disbelieving eyes turned back to Ace, "You told them ... everything?"
His mouth dipped down, frowning, like he didn't understand the look of betrayal dressing my face. When he didn't say anything, Holly stepped in and muttered quietly as if she were apologizing, "He just needed someone to talk to."
Someone to talk to? Someone to talk to? I've been nearly silent for the past ten years because of what I saw. I've been alone and scared ever since I saw the monster who called himself Ace's father beat the poor kid into unconsciousness right before he broke my hand and locked me in a basement. Where was this kind of understanding when I needed someone to talk to? The police officer didn't listen, my parents didn't listen. The only person I had was my brother, and even he thought I was crazy for a while.
I had no one. Only a memory of a boy's face, smiling up at me with the purest essence of happiness as I escaped and he remained below. My bottom lip began to tremble as that image branded itself across my vision. A lump formed in my throat, causing a fire to seep into the very depths of my core.
Then words exploded from my mouth without permission, "I went back for you."
Ace's countenance tumbled lower, his eyes darkening to a color I never remembered seeing in him before, "What?"
A moment passed while I calmed my emotions that were threatening to take over once again. I locked my teary gaze on my hands as I muttered, "I made it back to town. I told my parents everything and we went back for you with an officer. But ... but your dad had beaten you into unconsciousness. Shoved you under the stairs. No one would believe me, I tried so hard but they wouldn't believe me." I haven't said that many words in one sitting since I was eight. I stood up, away from Holly and Ace, stepping towards the far wall to provide myself with minimal comfort, "I thought he ... I thought he killed you ..." But more tears met my eyes. I couldn't finish my words.
In the blink of an eye, Ace was in front of me again. His arms wrapped around my body just as tightly as before, blanketing me in warmth and solid muscle. He dropped his head towards mine, whispering in my ear, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Bunny. You never should have come back that night."
A sniffle sounded from my nose quite loudly, "I didn't want to leave you behind ... I knew what he would do to you."
I felt a chuckle vibrate through Ace's chest as his arms tightened around my back. I felt so safe in his arms, sheltered against the cruelties of the outside world. Just like when we were kids. Ace has been looking out for me ever since I met him and the ten year gap between us didn't change a thing. He was just as protective, if not more so, than what I remembered.
What was this feeling currently making my heart swell? It was foreign to me.
Ace pulled back again, letting his fingers drag against my back as he brought his hands up to hold my face once more. His forehead pressed against mine, his eyes closing ever so softly. But I couldn't convince my eyes to close, I was too afraid that he'd be gone when I opened them again.
"You have no idea how much I've missed you." Ace whispered quietly so no one else would hear. My heart jumped, skipping a beat as his words met my ears.
My fingers reached up to grip his wrists, holding them tightly with the distant thought of never letting go. Now my eyes closed, my touch on his arm reassuring me that he wasn't going anywhere. I let my mind wander through the past, through each and every memory I had of him. From the day we met to the night we said goodbye, neither of us knowing what was about to happen.
But that night, the one that's been eating away at me for ten years, seemed so long ago. Almost as if it never even happened. Because Ace was here, standing in front of me, holding me. He was alive, that monster hadn't gotten to him.
Later, I'd ask for all the details as I'm sure he wanted to ask as well. But for now, in this fraction of a moment that would probably stay with me until my very last breath, I waited. There was no need for answers right now, they weren't as dire as they had been.
The only important thing now was Ace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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