His Hollow Heart: Chapter 9
Bella
I’ve paced the length of this room at least a dozen times. My thumbnail is down to the skin since I’ve been chewing relentlessly on it. I’m slowly going crazy, that’s all I can come up with. Playing out every scenario in my head, they all come back to me being stuck here. It’s certainly crossed my mind to try and hide on Cal’s boat when he leaves tonight, but it’s easier said than done. For one, there are guards. I know of two, but there could be more. Chances are, those guards are here just for me.
The only option I can come up with is trying to get to the small boat I saw by the dock when I arrived yesterday. There were no paddles, but I’ll use a damn broomstick if I have to. I vaguely remember passing by an island, just beside this one, that looked inhabited. It would take me twenty, maybe thirty minutes on a boat without a motor. All I know is if I stay here, Cal will hurt me more than he already has. He will tear me down, probably rape me, and possibly kill me. I’ve come to the realization that my friend is no longer inside of him. The Cal I knew is gone, and I’m not sure if he’s ever coming back.
Creeping down the hall, I listen intently for any sound that could mean someone is coming. Cal left a couple hours ago and said he’d be gone until dark. It’s only five o’clock in the evening, so I have another hour, at least. I pass by Cal’s room and curiosity gets the best of me, so I give the handle a turn, but it’s locked. Of course it is.
Leaving everything behind except for my phone and the clothes on my back, I take the elevator down to the lower level.
The puddle I saw coming in has dried up to just a damp spot on the cement floor. I look up and see the hole has been filled and smoothed over. I wonder if Cal did that. I don’t take him to be a carpenter or even a handyman. It’s possible there are more people staying here than I thought.
There’s a door off to the side I never noticed before. It’s different from the other rooms in this place. This one has the old skeleton keyhole but also a modern-day password keypad.
Everything about this place is a mystery and I just need to get the hell out of here and off this island and never look back.
A gust of wind ripples over the backside of the castle. The overgrown bushes out back blow so heavily they practically cover the opening. Hugging myself, I head out the same way I came in. Pushing the large door open, I step out onto the cobblestone, looking out at the water in front of me. My eyes quickly dart to where the boat was and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see it’s still there.
Hope washes over me. It’s not going to be easy in these heavy winds, but it’s either die trying or be at the mercy of a man who’d love nothing more than to shred me of any dignity I have left. Before the door closes behind me, I turn around and push it back open. Skimming the open area, I look for anything that can assist me in paddling.
“Yes!” I mumble. Long strides lead me in front of a couple strip boards perched against the wall beside the elevator. Dragging one behind me, I head down to the water.
I might not be physically fit, but I’m a survivor. I’ve proven that every day since I found my mom’s corpse at the age of four. Addiction is an ugly thing and I’d love more than anything to erase those memories from my head. After two hours of staring at her in hopes of her waking up, I eventually realized she wouldn’t. I kissed her forehead and ran to the neighbor’s house. Twenty minutes later, I was put in the back of the car by a social worker and the adventures of foster life began.
I was in and out of so many homes that I lost count. Apparently, it’s frowned upon when you’re headstrong and speak what’s on your mind. Slowly, I learned to keep my mouth shut. That’s when I ended up at The Webster House.
The first time I saw Cal, it was like we instantly connected. Kindred spirits, soulmates—call it what you will, but it was special. My heart aches at what he’s become. If I’d stayed with him, like I promised, maybe he wouldn’t be so angry with the world.
Sucking it up, I swipe away the tears rolling down my cheeks. I drop the piece of lumber in the boat and it lands with a loud thud. The wind becomes turbulent as rain starts to fall. What starts as a light sprinkle quickly escalates into a full-on downpour. A thunderous boom shudders the ground beneath me at the same time a bolt of lightning lights up the sky.
In a matter of seconds, I went from bone dry to soaking wet. More rain comes as the wind picks up, pelting against my bare arms. I look down, trying to stop it from hitting my face.
“Why is this happening?” I cry out as another strike of lightning crackles through the clouds. Twisting and turning my head, I try to look out at the water, but it’s a haze of cloudbursts and I can’t see more than three feet in front of me.
I give the boat a push and when it doesn’t even budge, I throw my full weight into it and push harder. “Come on, you damn thing.” I try again, and it slowly begins to slip out of the muck it’s lodged in.
Gripping the front of the boat, I crouch down and dig my bare toes into the moss and push with all my might. It slowly begins to slide out into the water, but with each inch that it is engulfed, the crazier this seems. I’m taking a rowboat out on the bay in the eye of a dangerous storm.
It’s only a few minutes. I’ll be able to dock at the closest island and call for help.
I’m knee-deep in the water beside the boat when I finally jump in. It rocks back and forth as I steady myself on the seat, wasting no time dipping the board in and paddling. I paddle to the left a few times then switch to the right, until I’m moving straight ahead, right into the torrent.
Rain pommels me, coating every inch of my waterlogged skin while the boat begins to fill. I blink away the drops formed on my eyelashes, trying like hell to see clearly, but it’s impossible.
I’m not sure that I’ve ever been so scared in my life, and I’ve been through some horrific stuff. I just need to go straight out of here and then to the right until I see the island. Hopefully, the rain will let up and I’ll be able to see where I’m going.
It’s okay. I’ll be okay.
Just when I think I’m far enough to begin turning toward the east, I spot dim lights shining through the smog. My heart beats at warp speed when they begin coming closer, and closer. Steadily, I begin rowing backward. Left side, right side, over and over, as if the bright light blinding me is what’s pushing me back onto shore. I pinch my eyes shut, but I don’t stop rowing.
They’re going to hit me. It’s not Cal or the storm that will end my life. I’ll be pushed into the water by this huge boat.
My life flashes before my eyes. But, it’s him I see. The smile he wore the first time I saw him at the age of ten.
At eleven years old, when I saw the first tear that rolled down his cheek when Mrs. Webster told him that his birth parents were dead and never coming for him. He held it together around everyone else in the house, but when we were alone, the tears fell.
That time when he was twelve and got a bloody nose in the middle of the night and I was so worried that he was going to choke on his own blood and die. I didn’t sleep at all that night as I held the cloth so his sleepy eyes could rest.
When he was thirteen I caught him staring at me with a new look in his eyes as I played his favorite song on the piano. It gave me butterflies and I never understood why—until now.
At fourteen years old, I never even told him goodbye.
And now, I’ll never be able to make him understand. He’ll never get a proper apology and I won’t know what filled his heart with so much anger.
I can’t tell him about my first kiss, or hear about his first dance. I won’t know what year he graduated, or from where. All the little things that shaped us into who we are today are left unknown and all we have is the memories of our lives before meeting as kids.
My body goes into shock before reality can touch me.
I’m going to drown.
This is the end.