Put Me Back Together (34 page)

This
is
really happening.

In desperation I try to snatch the blade out of his hand, but he’s too quick. He shoves me away roughly and I nearly trip and fall.

“You’re not really going to do this,” I say frantically. “You know I was just joking around last night. You know I don’t really want you to kill anyone. He’s not even—”

“I heard what you said,” Brandon replies. “I heard it loud and clear. I’m going to take care of it for you. You’ll thank me when it’s done, trust me.”

“You’re right, that is what I said. I do want him dead,” I say, switching tacks. Maybe if he thinks I want this too, maybe if I convince him, maybe, maybe, maybe… “But this kid isn’t the one I hate. It’s his brother I want dead. You don’t want to kill the wrong kid, do you? You don’t want to make that mistake.”

He gives me a look of disgust. He thinks I’m lying, I can see it in his eyes.

“Having a change of heart?” he says. “Don’t worry, I’m not like you. I won’t lose my nerve. I never do.”

“Brandon, please—”

He takes my hand and twists it behind my back, pinning it painfully. I let out a gasp of shock and pain. When he speaks, his voice is hard. “Don’t even think of getting in my way. This is what you want. You’ve forgotten, but you’ll remember when it’s done. You’ll see how good it feels. When he’s dead, you’ll understand. You’ll love me for it.”

I can’t see him now because he’s standing behind me, but I can see his free hand as he flips open the knife. The knife he will use to kill Tommy, and probably me, too.

I begin to breathe quickly, too quickly, and the forest path tilts in front of me. I will myself not to pass out. Because if I do, what will happen to Tommy? I find out what it means to piss yourself with fear when I feel the warmth spreading over the crotch of my jeans.

“Say you love me,” Brandon says as he presses me forward, toward the clearing.

“I love you,” I gasp, because it’s what he wants to hear, because love conquers all, doesn’t it? Maybe love can conquer Brandon’s bloodlust. Maybe love can save us. “I love you, Brandon. I really do. I’ll do whatever you want. Just leave the kid alone. You can tie me up. You can cut me as much as you want.”

“Why would I want to cut you up?” Brandon says. He seems almost hurt by my words. “I love you. I’m doing this for you.”

I try to struggle against his grip, but he only yanks my arm harder, eliciting a small scream from my lips. “Keep quiet,” Brandon says immediately, clamping a hand over my mouth. “Don’t say a word, or I’ll kill him slowly.”

Hearing my scream, Tommy appears up ahead of us on the path and my eyes fill with tears. My voice has called him back when I wanted him to run.

“Katie, hurry up!” Tommy calls, then frowns as he takes in the scene of me and Brandon and his knife.

I want to beat Brandon to the ground, but I’m too weak. I want to go back to the minute before I told him about Ricky and still my lips, but I know I can’t. I want to whisk Tommy to safety, but I’m trapped. I’m useless. And it’s all my fault.

So I do the only thing I can think of. I bite down on Brandon’s hand hard, tasting blood. My eyes find Tommy again and I scream, “Run!”

Brandon swears and lets me out of his grip, shocked by the wound, and suddenly I’m running down the path after Tommy, who has disappeared from view. I don’t look back, though I can hear Brandon’s clumsy footsteps behind me. For five seconds I imagine that we might get out of this. As I reach the clearing, the trees open up to reveal the sky, full of fading light. I still have hope until the moment I see Tommy standing there, waiting for me, his eyes enormous with fright.

“No!” I cry as Brandon shoves me from behind and I fall forward, the metal railroad tie coming up to meet my eyes.

“Stupid bitch,” Brandon says.

The last thing I hear is Tommy’s scream.

Lucas held me in his arms, rocking me as my entire body was racked with sobs. The only word I said for a long while was “Tommy,” and each time I did he stroked my head and told me everything would be okay. But it didn’t feel okay. Reliving that moment felt almost exactly like Hell, and I didn’t want to be in Lucas’s arms now. I didn’t want to drag him down to Hell with me. But he wouldn’t let me go.

Eventually, once my tears had slowed to a trickle, Lucas loosened his hold, allowing me to pull away. Immediately I turned my back as I wiped at my face.

“Katie…” Lucas said, reaching for me, but I flinched at his touch.

“Don’t touch me,” I warned. “You don’t want to hold me. You don’t want to hold a killer.”

“You’re not a killer,” Lucas said steadily, and I snorted. “Brandon is the Kindergarten Killer, not you.”

I twisted around to face him, suddenly furious. “It was my idea!” I cried. “Tommy’s murder started in my head, not Brandon’s. Sure it was Ricky I wanted dead, not poor Tommy, but what’s the difference? Brandon cut him down the torso, just like I asked. Split him almost in half. You know, you read all about it. Everyone did. And he did it for me!”

“That doesn’t mean it was what you wanted,” Lucas protested. “That doesn’t mean you would have done it yourself. You were a pissed off kid and you said you wanted someone dead. That’s not the same as going through with it. Brandon is the murderer, Katie.”

“Yeah,” I said, “and I’m just the girl who drove him to it.”

He was about to retort, but instead Lucas’s face stilled as he took in my words. “Is that why you were so afraid when I knocked down Buck? You thought I’d turned into Brandon?”

“It’s what I’m good at,” I said bitterly. “I drive guys to madness, to violence. It’s my talent.”

Lucas sighed and took me by the shoulders, forcing me to face him. Reluctantly, I raised my eyes to meet his. “I know a little bit about the Kindergarten Killer,” he said. “I read every article about it when I was in high school. We even followed the case in class. The teacher thought it would be better than gossiping about it in the halls. Brandon’s father used to beat him with tools from his workshop. When they arrested him he had broken ribs from being beaten. He’d been killing animals in those woods for months, mutilating their bodies. Practicing. His teachers admitted they thought he was off. I think his mother said he tried to kill his little sister once. He was a killer long before he met you.”

“Fine, he’s the killer,” I conceded. “He murdered Tommy, not me. But it’s still my fault!” My tears were running again, blurring my vision.

“Tell me why,” Lucas said, tightening his grip on my shoulders as I tried to pull away.

“B-because,” I spluttered. “Because, I-I—”

“Because you were his babysitter? Because you once said you hated his brother so much you wanted to kill him and a psychopath decided it was a good idea?”

“Because if not for me, he’d still be alive.”

“That’s crazy logic, Katie,” Lucas said, his kind eyes boring into mine, trying to fill me with his compassion. But my heart was too full of self-loathing to let him in. “You didn’t want either Tommy or Ricky to die, not really. I know you, maybe better than anyone now. You’re not to blame.”

Reaching up swiftly, I yanked hard on Lucas’s arms, dislodging them from my shoulders, and shot to my feet. “You know me?” I said, angrily wiping at my wet cheeks. “Haven’t you been listening? Everything I’ve ever told you is a lie. I’m not the shy artist who likes brownies and rescues kittens. I’m a liar and a phony. I’m a fugitive. I lied to the police and I lied in court. I belong in jail!”

I began twisting my fingers, falling into that same old habit. I remembered then the reason I’d started doing it in the first place. In the ambulance, after Tommy died, I’d twisted my fingers just like this, trying to get the blood off. I imagined I could still see it there even months later, even after a hundred washings. Tommy’s blood would always be on my hands.

“You were just trying to protect yourself,” Lucas went on in that same sympathetic tone, and suddenly I wanted to hit him. “You were thirteen. Do you know how many lies I told when I was thirteen?”

I’m guessing you weren’t under oath at the time,” I said. “I’m guessing you drew a line somewhere. You’d lie to your mom, but not your best friend. You’d lie about getting detention, but not about stabbing someone to death. Do you know how many lies I’ve told, who I’ve lied to? I’ll tell you who: everyone. I lied to the press about that day. To my friends. To my parents. To my sister. To you. I’ve been lying so long I don’t even recognize the truth anymore. Is that the kind of person you want to be with? A pathological liar who’ll say anything to save her skin?”

“Would it have made that much difference if you’d told the truth?” Lucas countered. “Being a liar isn’t the same as being a killer.”

“I claimed I didn’t even know Brandon,” I spat. “I said I’d never seen him before in my life, and they all believed me because I was the sweet girl from the nice family and he was trash. I washed my hands of Tommy’s death and let Brandon take the fall.” My head began to pound and I gripped it with my hands.

“You didn’t
let
him take the fall. He’s the one who committed the crime. He got what he deserved,” Lucas said.

“I was a coward,” I whispered between my fingers.

“Oh, Hero,” Lucas said, getting to his feet and moving toward me.

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped, my face contorted with fury at the sound of the word. “Don’t
ever
call me that again.”

Turning away, my arms wrapped around my stomach, I felt the warmth of Lucas’s body behind me before he put his arms around me. I wanted to struggle away, but I was just too tired. Tired of trying to make him see the truth. Tired of thinking about that day. Tired of trying to push him away.

In that moment, all I wanted to do was sink into his warmth and forget.

“You’ll always be my hero, Katie,” Lucas said as he fitted my body against his like a puzzle piece clicking into place, his lips against my hair. “You’re the girl who saved me from the darkness of grief, and from a panic attack, and from a lifetime of meaningless hookups. You made me feel something amazing when I thought I’d never feel anything good again. You might not have been able to save Tommy, but you saved me. You made me love you.”

I felt him turning me around to face him and let him do it. Within the cocoon of his arms, I pressed my hands to his chest as he pressed his forehead against mine.

“I love you, Katie,” he repeated.

I looked up at him, shaking my head. “But how?” I asked, my lips trembling.

“Like this,” he said, pressing his lips gently to mine.

I wanted to melt into his kiss, but my reeling mind wouldn’t let me. I knew this couldn’t be real. When tomorrow came, when he’d had a chance to think about it, he would change his mind. He would see that I wasn’t worthy of love, not after what I’d done. He would see that being with me would change him into a monster, just like Brandon. He would see the truth.

“Stop doubting me, Katie,” Lucas said, cupping my cheeks. “I know what I’m saying.”

I closed my eyes, an entire lifetime of wanting drawing me toward him. He lifted me off my feet, settling my legs around his waist, wrapping me around him. “But what if—” I said, but he pressed a kiss to my lips again to silence me.

He sat down on the bed without letting go of me. “Nothing you’ve done or will do could ever make me stop loving you,” he said. “Nothing you say about yourself will ever convince me that you aren’t the incredible girl I’ve known for the past two months. I’m not going to change my mind about this. You’re stuck with me, so you’d better get used to it.”

I rested my cheek against his chest, so overwhelmed with emotion, love for Lucas and hatred for myself swirling inside me, mixed with fear and hope, despair and gladness, sorrow and joy. Could a single person really feel so many things at once? I guessed so, because I was.

Lucas ran his hands up and down my back. He said, “Promise me you’ll try to believe me.”

“I need you to promise me something first,” I said, drawing away so I could look him in the face.

“Anything,” he said.

“When you change your mind, I need you to tell me right away,” I said.

He brushed a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m not going to change my mind,” he said.

“Then it’s an easy promise to make,” I answered. I really needed this. I didn’t want to be the fool who went on thinking he loved me when he didn’t. And I knew the day would come when he didn’t, and soon.

“Fine,” Lucas said. “If you’ll promise to let me love you, I’ll promise to let you know when that love ends.”

I nodded numbly.

“Even though it never will,” Lucas finished, kissing my cheek. “Because I plan on loving you for the rest of my life, Katie Archer.”

You don’t know what you’re saying
, I thought.
You don’t know who I really am.

But as his lips met mine again and I surrendered to his embrace, I heard a new voice inside my head, a jubilant voice that had something very different to say.

You know me. You know me. You know me. You know me. You know me,
the voice said, and for the moment, I let myself believe it.

Locked in Lucas’s arms, my chin on his shoulder, my legs and arms around him just as his arms were around me, I told him the rest of my story. As I spoke, I felt little pieces of the pain I’d been wearing like a cloak falling away. I wondered if when I was done telling I’d be able to take the cloak off, or maybe it would have disappeared all on its own. I hoped so.