Pieces of Summer(21)

Now he was burning alive inside all because her husband was such a procrastinator and never had that faulty wiring fixed. In a way, it was poetic justice, because it was like he was avenging his own death from beyond the grave.

She could leave this town now. She could break free. She could move on.

And Clyde James would burn in hell while her husband watched over her from above…



Still no closure. This is the fifth alternate ending I’ve put in. Each one gets worse and worse. The entire book is worthless if I can’t get the ending right, and this story will never freaking have the closure it needs if I can’t end it.

In all actuality, it’s just my closure that’s lacking. Fixing the bowling alley up hasn’t done a damn thing to help me move forward. Going there only makes it worse.

Groaning, I shut the laptop and stretch, standing and moving over to my murder board to see if I can somehow get an idea from there.

“Mika?”

The voice in the house freezes me to my spot, and a chill rides up my spine.

“Mika?” the voice calls again, but I visibly relax when I realize who it belongs to. Well, I relax for about a second.

Damn it. Why is he here? And how did he get inside?

“Mika?” he calls once more.

I could totally hide in the closet. Would that be too weird? It would only be weird if he found me hiding in there.

Just as I decide to risk it, Chase is filling up the doorway to my office, breathing heavily as his eyes land on me.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hi,” I say like an idiot. Just to be really awkward, I give a tight wave.

His lips twitch as he moves into the room, but his amusement falls when he takes in the walls full of corkboards and clear glass boards that are free-standing within the room. The glass boards have marker all over them, along with some pictures taped on. The corkboards are loaded with various index cards that are pinned in place with strings running from one to another.

It looks like a bunker for a conspiracy theorist who is trying to prove there was a second gunman…

“Damn,” he says under his breath, taking it all in.

I continue to stand in place, frozen to my spot as he invades my sanctuary.

“This is pretty amazing,” he says in awe, reading over one of the boards.

I’d tell him thanks, but it seems odd to do so.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him instead, annoyed with how shaky my voice is.

“You weren’t at the bowling alley,” he says, still reading over one of my boards. That’s a very graphic board.

“Holy shit,” he says as he sucks in a breath.

“Don’t read that one. It’s my serial killer book through her eyes. The publishers won’t take it since they feel it might be banned for being too dark and condoning the incredibly brutal torture and murders of abusive men. Especially since she commits suicide by cop at the end to forever immortalize her name and mission.”

“Spoiler alert,” he says, smirking as he turns back to face me while I shift awkwardly from side to side.

“It’s not going to be published, so it’s not a spoiler.”

“I might want to read it anyway. Does a Chase, Thomas, or James die in this one?” he asks, sounding amused.

“No,” I mumble. I don’t tell him his father’s name is used as the first victim though. I really tortured Clyde for four chapters. It was awesome.

He sighs as he pockets his hands, and when his eyes lock on mine, the room around us seems to shrink in size. Then my world crashes to the ground when he opens his mouth to speak.

“Why didn’t you tell me you came back after that summer?”





Chapter 22



CHASE



Her shoulders go stiff, and her eyes widen. Apparently she didn’t want me to find out.

“You knew?” she whispers, her voice breaking.

“Found out today. Blake saw some old pictures of us and said he saw you one night. Even chased you.”

She groans while putting her head in her hands.

“It was him. That’s where I knew him from,” she mutters.

When she looks back up, I fight with myself to stay in place.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask again.

Her eyes turn into angry slits as she takes a step forward. “Why do you insist on knowing how much you hurt me, Chase? You wanted to know why I came back. You wanted to know why I bought the bowling alley. Why this. Why that. You know the fucking answers. Stop asking the rhetorical questions unless you get off on my pain!”

I wince, wishing I had just kept my damn mouth shut. She’s still hurting even all these years later. It’s like the wound is fresh. And I just keep pouring salt on it.

What she doesn’t realize, is that it’s just as fresh for me.

“She didn’t mean anything to me,” I lamely blurt out, sounding like a cliché from hell.

Her look changes from furious to sad in that instant, and it’s like a punch to gut.

“She meant something to me,” she whispers softly.

“Damn it, Mika! I was trying to get you out of my head by any means necessary. We were fucking kids planning a future we were never going to have. Even if I’d saved up every dime I had working as a busboy in that stupid diner, I would have only had a total of five thousand dollars at most. It wouldn’t have even been a down payment, for fuck’s sake.”

She stares, but remains silent as I go on.

“What then, Mika? Let you move out here with me and live in that shithole house I grew up in while helping me keep my mother from choking on her own vomit or overdosing? Maybe help me drive her to the doctor a few times a year to see what new VD she’d contracted? Possibly help me clean her up when she pissed or shit herself? Pray like I did that one day it would all just be over… that there was nothing you could have done differently on the day she finally died so you weren’t wracked with guilt? Does that sound like a fairytale ending for you? Does that sound anything close to what you fucking deserved?”

My chest is heaving by the time I finish yelling, and the knot in my throat has doubled in size. Tears are in her eyes, her lips are quivering, and my pulse is beating faster with every breath.

I should shut up. I shouldn’t be telling her any of this. It’s just going to complicate shit even more.

“You were it for me,” I tell her quietly. “All there was, Mika. You were the only good thing in my entire fucking life. And I gave you up because I didn’t want you to live through the same shit that made my life so dark. I gave you up because it was the right thing to do. It killed me.” I point to my chest as my voice grows strained. “Killed me,” I repeat, barely keeping myself from losing it. “But I did what I had to. I let you go because I’d never be the same light for you that you were for me, and it wasn’t fair.”

I sag down to a chair behind me, and I put my head in my hands while touching my elbows to my knees. It feels good to get it all out there, but at the same time, it fucking hurts to feel anything at all.

My breaths are choppy and heavy, and my chest feels like a weight is pressed against it. I startle when something touches my head, and my head snaps up as Mika steps closer, keeping her fingers in my hair as she moves in between my legs.

Her left hand joins her right one, slowly stroking my hair, and I wrap my arms around her waist while touching my forehead against her stomach, resting it there. I hug her closer, seeking that light she always gave me, feeling that comfort rise just from the simple action of her touching me and letting me touch her.

“You were always my light too,” she whispers softly. “More so than you realize, Chase.”

I close my eyes, keeping her against me, and we stay like that for several long minutes… possibly hours.

“I came to the ranch to find you,” I admit softly. She tenses and her hands still in my hair. “They told me you and Aidan had moved to New York. I just wanted you to know that I did come for you, even though I realized I couldn’t ever offer you anything.”

“That’s all they told you?” she asks, focusing on that part and that part alone.

“Yeah. Why?” I ask, still clinging to her.

She relaxes against me, and her hands go back to their ministrations.

“You were enough, Chase. You were more than enough.” Her voice is quiet and sad, and I keep my eyes closed, just letting her touch me and absorbing the way it all feels.

“Let’s get something to eat,” she finally says after a long break of silence. “Otherwise, my stomach is going to start talking to you, and it won’t sound pretty.”

When I smile against her, I remember exactly why she was everything good in my life.

She was the only one who ever made me smile when there was nothing to smile about.





Chapter 23



MIKA



Chase walks through the restaurant, garnering attention from everyone in there as he waits for me to sit down first. I expect him to slide in the seat across from me, but he sits down right beside me instead.

Seeing him so broken today… He loved me enough to want more for me than his life would offer. I loved him enough to endure his hell and I would have found a way to enjoy it. However, life doesn’t give you what you want. It gives you lemons and hides the sugar so that you can’t make lemonade.

Romeo and Juliette didn’t have shit on us as far as painful, tragic love goes. They made death beautiful, while we made life ugly.