I snag my purse and get out of the car, not bothering to close the door.
The evening is so beautiful. The stars are starting to peek out and a crescent moon is hinting through the sky to the left. I use the tire to climb onto the hood of the truck and sit there, looking out toward the blue water. It’s still. Calm. Smooth. It reminds me of glass, but I know one rock will disrupt the solace. The water will ripple.
Just like me, only I’m an ocean in the middle of a hurricane. I don’t have ripples. I have waves crashing inside me, angry and confused. I don’t know how to settle.
I let the storm take and control me.
Not anymore.
I think of my dad and I know he’ll be sad, but he’ll be fine in time. No one else will miss me. I don’t have friends. Kenneth made sure of that. He has isolated me from everyone and everything.
And I can’t do this anymore.
I hate him so much, but I couldn’t live with myself if I killed a man.
So what’s the difference in killing myself now instead?
I unzip my purse and grab my new gun. I wrap my fingers around the handle, but the grip is weak. I’m trembling.
I won’t see tomorrow.
Why does that feel so good? It’s…relief.
My purse tumbles off the hood and the contents spill on the ground along with the bullets. My phone cracks across the screen as it lights up. Kenneth’s name appears between the webs, and I ignore him again and use two fingers to pick up a cold, sleek bullet.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to load a gun, but it does take me a minute to figure out how to slide the bullet into the cylinder and spin it.
Another tear drops, and I debate if I really want to do this. But I don’t have a choice, he’ll find me. He’ll always find me and bring me home. He’ll lock me away. I don’t want to be beaten anymore. I don’t want to lie to doctors. I don’t want to bleed out of every hole I have.
I’m done.
I cock the gun and the cylinder turns until it clicks into place.
Pressing the gun against my temple, I take a deep breath in and out.
No tears.
No fear.
Just peace.
I pull the trigger. Nothing happens because there is only one bullet. That’s alright. I’ll just keep going until I find it.
I turn the cylinder again and press the cold barrel against my head.
Click.
“Charlie. Cupcake. Put down the gun.”
I shake my head, dislodging another tear. I spin the cylinder again. I didn’t even hear him approach. I’m too lost in my own thoughts.
Click.
“Come on!” I yell as I turn the cylinder again.
“Charlie, Cupcake, don’t do it.”
Click.
The last one has to be the one. There are only five chambers.
“Cupcake please don’t,” he begs.
“I have to!” I yell at Whistler and my voice echoes over the lake. “I have to. It’s the only way to be free of him. I need to do it!” A string of spit drips from my bottom lip as I scream. “I can’t do it anymore. I’m so tired.”
“Oh, Cupcake. I know you are. I can only imagine, but you aren’t alone in this fight. You don’t have to struggle alone. You don’t have to struggle at all. I’m here.”
He takes a step forward, and I lift my arm to press the barrel harder against my temple. “Don’t take another step, Whistler. I’m not fucking around,” I warn.
“Okay. Okay,” he chokes, and I swear there is a sheen in his eyes as he stares at me. “I won’t move another muscle. Please, put the gun down.”
“You don’t understand.” The words are guttural as they leave me, the pain of losing who I am, the pain of losing my young adult life, the pain of being weak just ripping out of me. “You don’t get it!”
“Help me understand, Cupcake. What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”
“It doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me, Cupcake. Give me that chance.”
I think about it, but a better thought comes to mind which has me narrowing my eyes at him. “How did you know I’d be here?”
“I won’t lie to you. I installed a tracking device on your truck the last time I watched your house. I need to know you’re safe. I didn’t care if that meant you would hate me when you found out. When I saw you coming here, I knew something was wrong.”
I aim the gun at him next, then me, then him. Fuck. I don’t know what to do. “You shouldn’t have come here.” I settle with keeping the gun against my head.
“I’ll always come to you, Charlie.”
“Please, go,” I cry, wanting to be alone. I can’t do this with someone watching.
“I’m not leaving you. I’m never going to leave you alone.”
“I am alone!” I shout as loud as I can. “I’ve been alone. I’m done. I’d rather die than live another day with him. I can’t take it. You were right, okay? Does that make you happy? He beats the living hell out of me, Whistler. He chokes me. He locks me in a bedroom when I’m not good. That’s where I was for two weeks. I wasn’t sick. I was in trouble. I’m done.” I rub the ache in my chest and whisper, “I’ve been done for a while now.”
I bet a man like Whistler loves to be right. Well, he wins.
I’m another statistic, but you know what?
I’d rather die on my own terms than let Kenneth or anyone decide for me.
I’m shaking in my fucking boots right now. Christ, when I saw the GPS tell me she was coming out here, I instantly had a bad feeling. Something wasn’t right and without explanation, I left in the middle of our first Church meeting without saying a damn word to anyone. It isn’t their business.
This is between me and Cupcake.
“You’re wrong. I’m not happy. Not for one second am I happy that you are in pain, that you are unhappy, that you are miserable, that you are not safe. Nothing about this makes me happy.” I risk taking a small step forward when she isn’t looking. “If you do this, you’re leaving behind people that will care about you, that will miss you. What about your dad?”
“He will be fine. It’s my fault the company is failing. Kenneth wants money and he threatens dad’s life. I have to do it. I have to keep dad safe, you know?”
I nod. “I do know. I understand that.” I press my hand against my chest. “I do the same for my sister. I bet you and her would get along. You’re a lot alike. And it isn’t your fault. Kenneth is threatening you and of course, you do as he says.”
“No one else will miss me. I don’t have anyone.” She lifts her elbow again and straightens the gun so it is at a right angle. Her blue eyes are endless pools of pain and I want nothing more than to be able to soak it up.
I hold back the panic gripping me from the inside. “You have me,” I admit. “Damn it, Cupcake, you’ve had me in your clutches since the moment I saw you. I’d miss you. You’ve wrapped yourself around my heart somehow. You want me to get on my knees and beg for you to drop the gun?” My knees hit the ground quicker than I can take a breath. The ground is hard, but it’s nothing compared to what I’ll feel if she pulls the trigger.