The Dead of Winter (Seasons of Jefferson: Book 2) (23 page)

“I wanted to. It’s the least I could do. I can’t wait til you see it.”

I watch her fiddle around with a cardboard box sitting next to her. “You might want to wait to give me that. I have something to give you first.”

“Okay.” My mind is spinning, wondering what on earth Peyton is going to give me. Slowly she stands, grabbing onto the cardboard box. My mind flashes back to the collage of pictures she gave me for my birthday. It was wrapped so beautifully. The card. The paper. The bow. Everything was coordinated.
Hmm, it’s not like Peyton to leave a gift unwrapped. She’s still not looking at me.

In the thirty seconds it takes her to walk across the room, the heavy silence has my mind working overtime.
Does looking up still make her dizzy? Is she nervous about what’s in the box? Maybe it’s something that will spill or break if she’s not careful. I hope it’s not a puppy. I can’t take care of any animals right now. No, she wouldn’t keep something that big from me. Wait … is she keeping something from me? Her face looks a little guilty. Did she do something she regrets? Maybe she did mess around with Mason at the party. Why won’t she look at me?

When she’s finally standing within an arm’s distance, she raises the box toward me. Looking down at the ground, she speaks, “Here you go.” I set her gift on the nightstand next to me so I can take the package. I wonder if I should look in it now, or wait until Christmas.

“Should I open it?”

“Sure. It’s your stuff.”

My stuff?
When I untuck the flaps and look inside, my blood stops cold. I’m frozen in fear of what the contents mean.
What the hell? Why is she giving this stuff back to me?
It’s full of all the gifts I’ve given her … souvenirs we’ve collected while we were dating.

I look down at the teddy bear I won her at the harvest festival, the ticket stubs to the homecoming dance, my football jersey, and some dried flowers from the bouquets I bought her when I was still trying to win her over. “What does this mean, Peyton? Are you trying to get me to remember our time together? You don’t have to give this back to me. I still remember it all. Every last thing. It’s sweet of you to remind me, but you can put the stuff back now.” I’m pretty sure I know what this means, but I’m trying my damnedest to pretend I don’t. I work to control my shaking voice as I set the box on her bed.

She’s silent as I look at the top of her head. “Look at me, babe. Please.”
Why the hell won’t she look at me?

“I can’t, Caden. I’m sorry.”

“What does this box mean, Peyton?”

“It means that I want you to have your stuff back. It doesn’t belong here anymore.”

“Oh no, no, no, no, no. It belongs here all right. That box is you and me. I gave it to you. Every single thing in that box is a little piece of me that belongs to you. You need to keep it.” Silence.
She’s not just getting rid of that box. She’s getting rid of me.
“You need to keep
me
.”

“I can’t.” She pauses, closing her eyes and shaking her head thoughtfully. “I just … can’t.”

What can I do? Shit. What can I do?
“Here. Here. I have something for you. Take it.” I grab the gift from the nightstand. “I bought this for you. It’s really special. You’ll love it. It will help you remember. You love me, Peyton. I love you. Here. Go ahead. Open it.”

I watch the change in her expression as it turns from sympathy to anger. “I’m trying to be nice about this, Caden.” She begins speaking through gritted teeth. “Just take your box. I can’t take that gift. I’m giving your things
back
to you. Let it go. Let
me
go!”

“Why are you doing this to me? Won’t you please just take the gift?”
If she won’t open it, I will. I’ll just put it under that stubborn face of hers and make her remember. As soon as she sees it, everything we had will come back.
Without further thought, I pull the snow globe from the bag. When she hears the paper rattle, she shuts her eyes tightly. I hold it just inches from her face.
There’s no way she’ll be able to deny what we have when she sees this.
“Open your eyes, Peyton. Open them, now!” I growl.

“I can’t look at this stuff! I can’t. Don’t you get it?” she snarls back.

“No, I don’t! I don’t get why you’re getting rid of our stuff. Why are you throwing us away like this? Open your damn eyes, Peyton!”

“Do you really want me to open my eyes? Cuz you won’t like what happens if I do!”

“Yes, I want you to open your
beautiful
eyes. I want you to see what I got for you. I want you to remember what we had together.”

“Fine,” she huffs. She opens her eyes, and looks down at the ball that rests in the palm of my hand. She studies the scene I’ve had captured in glass. Her breathing deepens as she begins to shake her head wildly. I brace myself for whatever it is she’s about to say.

“You Son of a Bitch!” Her volume increases until her voice begins to fly out in flames. “You just couldn’t leave it alone. You had to force me to look back at that place. You feel like it’s your job to make me remember, don’t you? DON’T YOU?!?!”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did. Look at it, Peyton. It’s us. It’s the bridge. Read it.” My voice becomes shaky, and I feel the first warm tear slip from the corner of my eye. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

“What’s wrong? What the hell is wrong?
You
are what’s wrong! I can’t look at you. I can’t look at any of this! It all makes me
sick
! Didn’t you notice? I can’t even be in the same room as you without throwing up? Get out! Get out, now!”

“Peyton, please. I love you. I can’t make you sick.” By now, the tears won’t stop.
I can’t leave. I won’t leave. I will stand my ground until she loves me back.

Peyton growls some of her last angry words through her gritted teeth. “I said get out! Now!” In a flash, I watch the beautiful glass ball being snatched from my hand, just before it flies from hers, and hits the wall with a crash. Shimmery water, gently runs down the wall, leaving a glittery stained path in its wake.

I look down at the snowflakes and broken couple lying on the ground next to the wall. They’ve been separated from the splintered bridge that’s resting under her bed. Shards of glass lace the carpet, near the doorway. “Now take your stuff and get out!” She screams one last time. I’m frozen in place. I don’t know what just happened. She picks up my box and throws it through her bedroom door, just missing my head.

I look down at the scattered contents, laying in the hallway. “You don’t want to do this. You really don’t,” I sniffle.

“Oh yeah?” Peyton lunges for a shard of glass, swiftly grabbing it from the ground and gripping it tightly like a knife.

I’ve never seen her like this. The way she’s holding that glass looks like she’s about ready to strike.
Would she really slash me?
I picture it all in slow motion. As she begins moving toward me, I put my hand up to shield my face.
She’s gone crazy
.
I can’t leave her mother alone in the house with her.
“I’m not leaving you, while you’re acting like this.”

“Want a bet?”

I’m not quick enough to get out of the way. When she springs forward unexpectedly, I feel the tear of the dagger come down on my hand and make its way clean through to my elbow. Fire runs across my ripped flesh.

“Peyton, stop!” I hear Mrs. Carter scream from behind me. “Caden, go. Get out now! She won’t hurt me. It’s you that she has a problem with.”

Holding my slashed arm, I back my way through the doorway. I grab my jersey off the floor to wrap around the wound. Down on the ground, working on my injury, I can hear Mrs. Carter trying to calm her. “See, Peyton. This is why we’re taking you down to that specialist. They said they can help with this.”

“Mom, I tried.” She wails. “He wouldn’t leave! He doesn’t get that he makes me sick. Everything about that day makes me sick! They keep shoving it in my face. They’re smothering me.”

“I know it feels that way, honey. They’re just trying to help you, the only way they know how. We’ll get you through this. You’ll be in the city. Away from the trees. Away from the mountains. Away from your friends. Your auntie will take good care of you.”

“Friends?” Peyton screams. “They’re not my friends! They were
her
friends. And look what they did to her. I don’t even know who that girl is anymore. They killed her! The old Peyton is dead, Mom.
Dead
!”

I look back through the doorway to watch the scene unfolding before me. Mrs. Carter has her arms around Peyton. She’s swaying with her back and forth, back and forth, stroking her hair as she calms her. “Shhh. It’ll be alright. You’re alive, sweetie. Everything’s going to be okay. You never have to see them again. Caden’s leaving now.”

As she rocks her, Mrs. Carter looks back over her shoulder and pleads with me. “Caden, please go. Take your stuff. It’s the only way to help her. We need to get everything about that day out of her sight. I know you love her. If you want to help her get better, you’ll do this for me. For her. Take your stuff. It’s over. You have to move on.” I bob my head up and down, knowing there’s nothing else I can do. “I’m so sorry about your arm. Do you need me to call someone to take you to the hospital?”

“No, my sister’s waiting for me outside. It’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine.” I know damn well, it’s not just a scratch. I can feel the blood seeping through the jersey I’ve wrapped around the gushing wound. I’ve caused enough damage, and I don’t want to add any more trauma to this volatile situation. I try to man up and suck my threatening tears back in my eyes. “Before I go, could you just answer one thing?”

“I can try.”

“You said she needs a specialist.
What’s
wrong with her?”

“Post-traumatic stress. It’s the worst case Dr. Curtis has ever seen. We’re sending her to a specialist down in Palm Springs. She needs the change of scenery.”

My heart sinks.
Peyton is leaving
. “When will she be back?”

“I’m not sure if she will.”

“So we’re really done?”

“I’m afraid so. It’s time for you to move on, son. It’s what’s best for her. The counseling is not working. This is our last hope to get her better. None of us like the idea of sending her away. But you see her. She’s dangerous. She’s got to go.”

I have nothing left to say. I bow my head, swallow the big lump in my throat, and gather my box of belongings.

I walk the box to the garbage, where I see the rest of the trash strewn around the ground. When I dump it next to the big green trash can, I’m able to see up close, all the papers I noticed scattered about earlier. One holds our grins, another our eyes. Piece by piece, I recollect every moment, all of them, now shredded on the ground before me. That’s when I realize,
Peyton is gone for good
.

I STRUGGLE TO OPEN MY
puffy eyes when I hear the vibration of the phone on my nightstand. My head is pounding as I struggle to read the small white number and missed call message.
Looks like Jenna’s trying to get ahold of me.
I glance at the big red numbers on the clock. 8:50.
At least she let me sleep.
If that’s what you can call it.
As I try to block out yet another nightmare of crazy, shard-brandishing Peyton, clawing at the back of my mind, a text comes through.

Jenna: T told me about what happened with Peyton the other day. You okay? :/

Me: Guess so. Feeling a little sleep deprived lately. My arm is still pulsing where she slashed me.

Jenna: There’s no excuse for attacking you. PTSD? Are you sure she’s not just crazy?

Me: Go easy. We both know the old Peyton would never do that. This one’s been through a lot.

Jenna: Don’t tell me you’re defending her. I hope you’re done with her after this.

Me: It
is
my fault. But yeah, we’re DONE! I haven’t talked to her for a week. It’s time to let the relationship balloon go. O~ I’m a free man, Jenna. Free.

Jenna: Would it be inappropriate to celebrate your new status?

Me: Totally appropriate. You have an idea?

Jenna: Take me with you to that charity event you always go to. Ty’s got family over, and I want to help out. Plus I want to put something positive out into the world … and maybe help distract you from your fatal attraction.

Me: Honestly, I think the attraction’s gone. The last few times I saw her, she scared the crap out of me. I’m really done this time. She’s not the same Peyton anyway.

Jenna: That scary, huh?

Me: You have no idea. Feeling lucky to be alive. Change of subject please.

Jenna: Yeah, let’s go back to tonight. You want to take me, or not? I’m begging you. I need a break from this project. It’s driving me crazy.

Me: You’re still working on your report? I thought it was due before break.

Jenna: Well, since I was having such a hard time with it, Mrs. George extended my deadline. She told me I could turn it in after break. Minor setback though. My report was on that missing flash drive.

Me: Crap. What are you going to do?

Jenna: Well, Daemon’s helping me catch up. He heard me telling Mrs. G that it’s missing and offered to help.