Last Summer (20 page)

Phil doesn’t seem put off by this question,
as he replies, “If you mean, did I pull the trigger, the answer is
yes.”

Mom’s head bobs once, almost unnoticeably.
“Well, thank you. I’m forever in your debt for saving my daughter’s
life.”

“Don’t thank me, Mrs. Sullivan. You can
thank whatever higher presence you believe in, because Chloe
wouldn’t be here right now had the young man’s gun not jammed. I
don’t care what anyone says—she had an angel on her side.” He tips
his head. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me.”

I watch the elevator doors close behind him.
I called it luck, but maybe Phil’s right, maybe my guardian angel
was looking out for me. If that’s true, I wish I could thank him or
her.

Mom and I step into the room, and the nurses
finally clear out, satisfied the IV’s and machines are in place and
where they should be. Logan’s asleep, with tubes up his nose and in
his mouth. I slide my hand underneath his and squeeze, even though
I know he can’t squeeze back.

“If you can hear me,” I start to say, “I
just wanted to tell you that I miss you already, and I’m sorry this
happened.” Tears bite at my eyes.
Oh, no. Not here, not now.
But I can’t stop them. Tiny droplets glide down my cheeks and fall
on mine and Logan’s intertwined hands. I hastily wipe them away.
“Anyway,” I continue, calming myself, “I brought my mom to meet
you.”

She wraps one arm around my shoulders and
holds me close. “He’s adorable, Chloe.”

I sniffle and laugh at the same time. “You
should see his eyes; they’re the most vibrant green, like the Irish
countryside in springtime.”

Mom hugs me tighter. “I’m sure I’ll see them
soon, baby.”

We spend at least ten more minutes by
Logan’s side, and then Mom suggests we go home, eat, and get some
rest. We’ll be back tomorrow, but it seems too far away. I don’t
know what the future holds tomorrow, and that’s what scares me.
What if I wake up and Logan’s gone? I’ll never have the chance to
tell him goodbye.

My stomach churns in one long sway, like the
tide before a hurricane. Mom ushers me toward the door.

“I can’t leave him,” I say, glancing over my
shoulder to Logan lying helpless and alone. “Mom, I just can’t do
it. He needs me right now. What if he wakes up and I’m not here?
What will he think?”

“Chloe, you can’t keep asking what-ifs; you
just have to have faith he’ll be here tomorrow. But, in the
meantime, you can’t run yourself down. You’ll need your strength
for when he does wake up.” She kisses the top of my head and hugs
me close.

So, I agree to go home and eat and sleep.
God knows I haven’t done any of the above lately. Maybe it’s
exactly what I need.

Twenty-two
•
Chloe

M
om and I arrive
home, exhausted, and notice an unfamiliar car parked in the
driveway; it’s a four-door, blue sedan, which looks brand new.

“Who is that?” I ask.

Mom frowns. “I have no idea.”

We check the car, but nobody’s in it. Mom
cautiously pushes on the unlocked front door, which is cracked open
a few inches. “Stay back, Chloe,” she whispers.

Please, Mom. Like you can stop an
intruder.
She was pretty handy with the baseball bat that one
night, though . . .

“I’m coming with you,” I whisper back,
grabbing her hand and holding on for dear life.

As we enter the living room, Dad is standing
at the fireplace mantle, holding a picture frame in his hand.
Slowly, he turns toward us. “Where have you two been?”

Mom straightens up. “That’s none of your
business.”

Dad looks taken back by her reply and
replaces the picture frame where it belongs. “Sandra, I hate to
inform you, but it is my business. I do worry about you two,
whether you choose to believe that or not.”

Mom releases my hand and inches closer to
Dad. “I want you out of this house. You promised you wouldn’t show
your face, for Chloe’s sake.”

“I know,” he says, hanging his head. “And
I’m truly sorry about what happened. You know that’s not like me.
All I’m asking for is a second chance, to make things right
again.”

I huff. “No offense, Dad, but Mom and I are
doing just fine without you.” Mom glances at me, surprise engraved
on her face. “I don’t think what you’ve done to us is redeemable.
You’ve hurt Mom more times than she can count, even though she’s
been there for you through good times and bad, like you two swore
to do when you were married. And your drinking has really gotten
out of hand these last few months. What you did to me, however, was
the icing on the cake. It’s over and done with. Now, let us move on
with our lives.”

“You don’t mean that, pumpkin,” says Dad,
his voice surging with hurt. “You can’t focus on the all the
terrible things I’ve done. Think of the good times we’ve had
together, as a family. Those outnumber the rest, right?”

I carefully choose my words. “Yes, they do,
but sometimes the negative outweighs the positive. Besides, it’s
not like you’ve gone above and beyond to make us happy. Everything
you’ve bought, everything you’ve invested in, has been for you. Mom
and I weren’t your family; we were assets.”

“That’s not tr—”

“Yes,” I interrupt, “it is. You want someone
who isn’t a possession because you don’t want to be held liable if
something happens to them. You’re not out for the good, Dad. You’re
just too greedy for that.”

His lips form a thin line. Hands on hips, he
looks around the room at nothing in particular. Nothing has ever
really held his gaze for long, anyway. “Well,” he says, “I guess
this is it, then.”

“I guess so,” I say.

He nods a couple of times, lost in his own
thoughts. “I wish you wouldn’t think of me as such a monster,
Chloe. Even though your mother and I aren’t compatible, I had hoped
we could at least work things out.”

“You and Mom aren’t compatible because of
you
. Plain and simple. This is your fault, and, once again,
you can’t even stand up and take responsibility for your actions.”
I snort, shaking my head. “Pathetic.”

Dad’s face ignites into a blaze of
resentment. “You ungrateful little bitch. I’ve put a roof over your
head, I’ve fed you, I’ve clothed you, and this is how I’m
treated?”

“Don’t you
dare
call her that!” Mom’s
face burns brightly with rage, too. “She’s done nothing, and
everything she’s said to you is true. You wouldn’t be pissed if it
wasn’t. You brought this on yourself, Jim, and now you’ll have to
find a way to crawl out—on your belly, like the snake that you
are.”

Dad lunges for Mom. She has a split second
to decide what direction to take, but he’s too quick, landing a
blow to her face. She screams, and the impact causes her to fall
down. I sprint forward, closing the distance between Dad and me
before he hits her again. Jumping on his back, I beat his head
mercilessly. Over and over again I pummel his skull, hoping I’m
doing some kind of damage. If my hand and wrist are any indication,
I’m going to be in a world of hurt when this is all said and
done.

His hands latch on to my arms, and he hurls
me off. I land on the floor with a loud
thwack
, nearly
knocking me unconscious when my head slams against the hardwood.
I’m barely able to ascertain Mom grabbing a vase off the entryway
table and smashing it over Dad’s head. This time, he’s the one
who’s out cold.

“Chloe, baby, are you all right?” Mom squats
down beside me, one hand on her face where Dad hit her, the other
clutching my hand so tightly I’m losing circulation.

“Ugh.” I moan. “I think so.” Sitting up, I
rub the back of my head. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”

“Help me drag him outside,” Mom says,
nodding toward Dad’s unresponsive body. “If we can lock him out, he
won’t bother us.”

“Mom, he has a key.”

She crawls over to Dad, fishes around in his
pockets, and pulls out his set of keys. Finding the one to the lake
house, she glides it around the metal loop, until she successfully
holds it in her hand. “Not anymore,” she says. Standing up, we each
grab one arm and drag him to the front porch, leaving his
cataleptic body alone.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” I say
once we’re safely inside the house. “He’s psycho even without
alcohol in his system.”

Mom sits down on the couch, buries her face
in her hands, and sobs. Her shoulders tremble with each new cry. I
wish none of this ever occurred. I wish Dad would’ve moved on with
his life and let us live ours. Alone. Without him in it. But some
things don’t quite work out the way people plan.

I sit down beside her, wrapping my arms
around her torso. “When we go back to Cherryview to pack,” I say,
“we can file a restraining order against him. He won’t bother us
ever again. It’ll just be you and me against the world. Judging by
the way we handled him, I think we’re going to do just fine.” I let
out a short laugh to relieve tension in the room.

“That’s not the man I married!” Mom wails.
“That’s not him.”

Thirty minutes later, after consoling Mom
that everything’s going to work out, Dad wakes up and pounds his
fists against the front door. “Let me in, or I’ll break in!” he
bellows. Mom and I wait wordlessly, until Dad gives up. The rental
car kicks up gravel as Dad backs out of the driveway, leaving in a
bout of squealing tires and burnt rubber.

“We have to go to the police,” Mom says,
wiping away her tears.

“Let’s go, then. Before he comes back.”

Mom and I make it to the police station. I
have to say, being here during the daytime is much different than
at night. Although there are plenty of people in the lobby, they
aren’t the same drunken, riotous people from yesterday.

Officer Rodriguez walks around the corner,
just as Mom and I make our way to the front desk. “Chloe, hey,” he
says. “What’s going on?” He takes one look at Mom’s face and his
features illustrate concern. “Is that why you’re here?”

“My dad,” I offer. “He went crazy earlier,
so we need to file a restraining order. Can you help us?”

He sighs. “Normally, we’re called to the
scene in cases such as this.”

“Cases such as this?”

Gesturing toward my mom, he says, “Domestic
assault. But there’s paperwork to be filled out and sent to the
court for a TPO.”

“TPO?”

“Temporary Restraining Order. It lasts for
three weeks, and a more permanent restraining order could take up
to a month to obtain.”

That’s too much time. What if he comes back
for us? “It’s too long.”

“If you want,” he says, eyeing the officer
behind the front desk, “I can help you obtain an Emergency
Protective Order. It’ll stay in effect until you obtain the
TPO.”

I nod frantically. “Yes! That’s what we
want.”

“Okay. Come with me.”

Officer Rodriguez sits us down in the two
chairs opposite his desk, giving the full rundown of what the
different restraining orders mean. I can’t help but question if he
would’ve helped had I not been molested, had he not known me. What
if I hadn’t gone with Logan? What if my actions and Mom’s actions
hadn’t stopped my dad? Everything happens for a reason, people say.
What if the incident with Big P happened because, somewhere in the
universe, a higher being was looking out for us, knowing we’d end
up right here, right now? Looking back, I wonder whether Logan
would still be alive, or whether my mom and I would still be
breathing. Dad could’ve easily lost control and killed us had Mom
not stopped him.

Logan and my mom are the only people in this
world who have a special place in my heart. I don’t know what I’ll
do if I lose them. Events were set in motion over the last
twenty-four hours, making me appreciate my loved ones even more.
Logan has risked everything to have semblance of order in his life
again, to return to his old self, and, in the process, we were
lucky enough to find each other. Mom has overcome her issues with
my father so she and I can get our lives back on track, so we can
be together, safely. She’s stronger than she realizes, I think.

Sitting here with my mom, I see a new
person. Her light may have been temporarily dimmed by my father’s
behavior, but he never really extinguished her flame. Now more than
ever, that light has sparked and improved itself. Deep in the core
of my psyche, something tells me we’ll be okay—finally. Dad won’t
harm us again, and Mom and I can move to California, away from our
old, drama-filled lives.

The thing that bothers me the most is Logan,
though. He’s been a constant source of hope for the past two
months. We hit a lot of rough patches, but we traveled past those
bumps and kept moving forward. I trust my gut on this one—Logan and
I will pull through this dark period in our lives, and he and I
will press on like we always do.

“All set,” says Officer Rodriguez. “I’ll fax
this over to the judge right away. If you need anything else, Mrs.
Sullivan, don’t hesitate to call me. Chloe has my business card,
but just in case, here’s an extra.”

“Thank you. I won’t forget this,” Mom says,
taking his card and dropping it in her purse.

Mom and I stand to leave, but Officer
Rodriguez stops us with his final words. “Don’t worry, you two.
Everything will work out in the end.”

I believe him.

Twenty-three
•
Logan

B
ig P laughs
maniacally as he stands next to me, with B and Smooth holding me
back. “It seems Ice has found a new lady.”All three of them snicker
together, like the fact that Ice is about to do Godknowswhat to
Chloe is some big joke.

I struggle, but it’s short-lived against B
and Smooth; they’re pretty strong. So I shout, “Don’t fucking touch
her!”