Change Of Season (21 page)

It was decided then:  Andrew Daniels was
persona non grata
. 

Curling her trembling body around her pillow, she closed her eyes, haunted by two sets of stormy blue eyes, two sets of hands on her flesh, two smiles, insisting they could be trusted.  She’d made this mistake before; she’d be damned if she would make it again.

In her medicated stupor, Autumn swore she heard Nikki whisper in agreement.

TWELVE

Toronto; December 13
th
, 2010

Her hand hesitated before the pristine white door of the modest bungalow, her backpack heavy upon her right shoulder. 
I should have called first
, Autumn chastised herself. 
She doesn’t even know me
.  Shuffling side to side, she bit her lip.

She knows you.  She sent that note.

Fiona Atwood was in grade eleven, from what Autumn had learned through casual inquiry.  She was known to be shy and apparently great at art.  Corrina’s friend Annessa knew her from Parenting class.  She didn’t speak often, but teachers loved her.

She also hadn’t been in school since September.

“Screw it,” she mumbled, knocking briskly.  Fiona obviously wanted to talk to her about
something
.  Might as well find out what that something was.

A dishevelled and haggard woman answered the door, her greying hair hanging limply beside her cheeks.  Her sweater and jeans looked slept in and her eyes were ringed in purple.  Autumn forced herself not to stare, wondering how bad off Fiona was.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked wearily.

“Um, yeah.  I’m Autumn Brody.  I go to Jarvis and I was hoping that Fiona was well enough to have visitors.”

Hesitantly, the woman stood aside, silently inviting her in.  Unsure of herself, Autumn stepped just inside, lingering in the foyer as the front door was shut.  Without speaking, the woman headed down the hall towards the rear of the house, pausing just beyond a closed door.

“Please don’t stay too long.  She still tires easily.”

Autumn nodded quickly, clutching her backpack tighter.  “Of course.”

“You can go right in,” the woman added, wandering away.

Autumn’s hand reached for the knob, hesitating briefly.  Was this intrusive? 
I really should have called first
, she lamented. 

But he would have noticed
.

Turning the handle gingerly, she pushed the door open a crack, peering inside.  This was Fiona’s bedroom:  a desk with a computer came into view, followed by a bed, an antique four-poster polished to shine.  Upon it lay a frail teenager, her collarbones sickeningly obvious and her face gaunt and ashen.

“Um, Fiona?”

The girl startled, her left hand fluttering upon the sheets as her head spun.  With a wide-eyed stare, she nodded furiously and Autumn took this as a signal to enter.  The crutches and full leg cast became apparent as the door opened wider.  It was no wonder now that Fiona hadn’t returned to school: Jarvis wasn’t exactly accessible.

Autumn nervously lowered herself onto the chair by the desk, setting her bag on the ground.  “I’m sorry to come over without calling, but-”

“No,” Fiona whispered.  “Better you didn’t.  Not that he won’t find out.  He always does.”

“Who?”

Fiona rolled her eyes, sighing.  “You know who.”

Chris
.  So this was about him, as she’d suspected.  Her hand fidgeted with her hair, twirling it viciously about her fingers as she remained silent, unsure of what to do or say.

“I tried to tell you,” Fiona continued softly.  “But he… He had other ideas.”

“He?  I’m not sure what you mean,” Autumn replied nervously.

Fiona shook her head sadly.  “Your bruises are showing,” she commented casually.  “My scars don’t fit under a sweater,” she added, gesturing to her leg.

Hurriedly, Autumn dropped her hand, pulling hard on her sleeve.  They were fading now, but the purple blemishes still bespoke a truth she dared not confess to anyone. 
He swore he didn’t mean it
, she thought weakly. 
But he didn’t stop.  Not until I begged.
  But Fiona…  Surely, he didn’t…

“I called, but you were in the hospital.”  It was so awkward, sitting here with her.  Fiona’s eyes cut straight through the flimsy veneer of her feigned casualness.

Fiona huffed.  “Getting run over by a car makes things difficult.”  At Autumn’s frightened gasp, she added, “And yes,
he
did it.  He and his precious truck.  What colour did he paint it afterwards?”

“Black.  His truck is black,” Autumn murmured.  “So, he and you?”

“All summer.  Then, he got a little bored with me.  Too virginal, I guess.  But he still felt he owned me.  When I told him I was done…  Well, this.”  Fiona shifted herself more upright, moaning in pain.  “My mother doesn’t know everything.  Not yet.”

Autumn leaned closer, eyes welling up in tears.  “I’m so sorry.  Oh my God…  He used to be nice, but lately, he’s…”

“He’s a monster,” Fiona concluded.  “You need to stay away from him.  You need to tell someone.  He won’t hesitate to hurt you, any way he can.”

Autumn shifted in her chair, her stomach turning as pieces shifted into place, Fiona’s words a twist of a kaleidoscope. 
He’s dangerous.  He’s more than jealous.  How could I be so stupid, so blind
?

“My parents love him,” she murmured to herself.  “Everyone loves him.”

“They love what he lets them see,” Fiona corrected her.  “We know better.  If we both tell, maybe the police will stop him.”

“I’m scared,” Autumn confessed, hugging herself.  “And maybe I’m selfish for that, but I’m scared to… If he really…  I’m sorry.  I have to go.”

Fiona didn’t protest.  Her auburn hair fell in tangles over her face as she turned back to her TV without another word.  Grabbing her bag, Autumn hurried out into the hall and out the front door, unable to face Fiona’s broken mother and her unspoken questions.  She had enough of her own.

Chris couldn’t do something like this!  A truck? 

You never thought he’d throw you into a wall, either.

That’s a whole other level!  Guys get angry.  They’re full of testosterone and stupidity and yes, he shouldn’t have done it, but that’s not attempted murder!

Yet
.

Three blocks.  She had three blocks to walk, to think as icy rain pelted the hood of her coat.  Should she tell her parents?  Or Heather?  How reliable was Fiona, anyway?  She didn’t even know her!

You know
, her mind hissed. 
You know
.

And she knew when her arm viciously yanked behind her, knew when her head struck the metal door of a vehicle, that it would be Chris she would see when her eyes opened.  His eyes were grey – hurricane-crazy and unforgiving.  The romantic boy she knew was lost in the storm again.

“What are you doing here?” he growled.

“Visiting a friend from school,” she replied, eyes averting to the ground. 

A fat glob of green gum lay beside her shoe, chewed up and spat out.  Like Fiona.

“Get in!” he ordered, throwing open the truck door and shoving her up into the seat.  Her bag fell haphazardly to the floorboards beneath her feet, her phone slamming against her textbooks.

Autumn’s mind and heart raced wildly, panic seizing control of her limbs as she shuddered helplessly in the leather interior. 
He knows I talked to her.  And if he’s this mad, she’s telling the truth – oh shit, he ran her over with a truck!  What will he do to me
?  Her eyes flitted to the left, where Chris was sliding into the driver’s seat with a thump that seemed a sonic boom to her senses.

“You had to ruin things, didn’t you?”

“Chris, I didn’t know-”

“
You knew
!” he screamed.

“I’m sorry!  She left me a note!  I didn’t know!”  She was begging again.  Lately, she was always begging.

Autumn doubled over sharply, breath expelled in a violent
whoosh
as fist collided with her stomach in a swift motion.  Stars exploded in her eyes as tears began to fall, pain spreading throughout her abdomen, to her pelvis.  Too stunned to speak, she sobbed instead, head pressed to her knees. 
Please assume the crash position
.  Chris was crashing over her.

“You worthless bitch!” he spat angrily.  “I thought you were different.”

Hair fisted around his knuckles as he pulled back and let go, slamming her face into the dash.  She could taste blood in her mouth as incisors met lower lip, salty and bitter.  Whimpering, she felt her hand snap out and grip the door release.  Locked.  Of course he’d locked it.  She was caged with this wild animal, this rabid dog.  He was toying with her like a meaty bone.

The engine turned over and Chris cursed beneath his breath as the truck pulled wildly out into the road.  Autumn’s hand shot out to brace herself against the dash, shooting stars streaking across her field of vision.  Blinking away the violent explosions, she snuck a sideways glance at the man she called boyfriend.  The storm raged on both within the truck and without, his hands gripping the wheel as if he longed to strangle the life from it. 

Would
he strangle the life from her?  She no longer doubted what he
could
do.  This was about probability, not capability, and she didn’t like her odds. 

“Look what you made me do,” he angrily accused her.  “Why did you have to be like the others?”

Should she answer?  Could she?  Only sobs and gasps for air seemed possible, and so she sank into her pain, tears staining her pleated skirt. 
I’m going to die
.  She knew it then, knew that she would wear the face Fiona wore.  Her mother would be devastated.  Her father… 
Oh God
…

“Autumn?  Answer me, Autumn.”

It was a softer voice, but still angry… insincere.  She mumbled an apology at him, hoping to appease the awakened beast.  Explanations would get her nowhere with him.  She knew that now.

The truck stopped suddenly, and she pushed herself up to a seated position.  They were down the street from her house.  A tissue was thrust at her face and she gingerly took it from his hand.  The hand that struck her.  The hand imprinted into her wrists.

“Clean up,” he insisted.  “You can’t go home like that.”

Nodding slightly, lest he take silence as an offense, she dried her eyes, using the car mirrors for guidance.

“Fix your make-up.  You look like shit.”

He was all business and she was his puppet.  Fumbling in her backpack, she found her purse, and in it, her foundation and lip gloss.  Working hurriedly, she concealed the worst of her blotchy skin and skimmed her lips with a pink sheen.  It would have to do. 
Please let this be enough
, she thought in terror. 

His hand seized her chin, turning her to face him.  “Better.  When you go in, tell your parents you have cramps.  Do you understand?”

Autumn nodded quickly. 
He’s done this before
, she realized, disgusted. 

“I want you to listen to me very carefully, Autumn.”  His words were devoid of caring.  Their acid coating scorched her heart, syllable by syllable.  “If you
ever
snoop around like this, or speak of what happened to anyone, I promise you that something far worse will happen to you or someone you care about.  You will keep your fucking mouth shut.  You can’t hide from me.  I know where you live.  I know everything about you.  Am I clear?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I wish you wouldn’t make me angry,” he added bitterly.  “Now, get out.”

With a whimper, she thrust the door of the truck open, her bag tumbling to the sidewalk as she flung herself out onto the pavement.  Steadying her shaky legs, she slipped the strap onto her shoulder and closed the door gently.  He always hated it when she slammed the door. 

He waited, watching as she entered her home, and her skin pimpled in gooseflesh as she recalled his words of warning. 
You can’t hide from me.  I know everything about you
.  Kicking her shoes off at her door, she slowly bent to greet Pandora, scratching her head gently.