Me & My Invisible Guy (19 page)

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Authors: Sarah Jeffrey

BOOK: Me & My Invisible Guy
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I stood up next to the window and peered in. I could see Darren pacing and hear him yelling. Mrs. Howard was wringing her hands and stumbling around after him, crying. Every time she reached for him, he pushed her off.

Then I saw Tess. She was sitting at the kitchen table next to the wall. The table made a barrier between them. She was watching, her hands folded and pressed against her mouth. I wanted to signal her, but I couldn’t without alerting Darren.

Suddenly Darren turned, and I ducked down. The voices were muffled; but I could hear a lot of cursing, and Mrs. Howard kept yelling, “Please, baby, please.”

I didn’t understand how she could call that nasty man “baby.” She was smart and was even successful before she started drinking. But she always had lousy taste in men.

I didn’t like eavesdropping, and since Tess seemed okay, I decided to go. I stood slowly to see if I could get another glimpse of what was happening before I left.

Darren was standing with his arms out, screaming at Mrs. Howard, who was now out of sight, likely on the floor.

And in his right hand was a gun.

CHAPTER 15

Darren waved the gun around in the air and yelled toward the floor, where I figured Mrs. Howard was. I moved so I could see Tess, who was still sitting quietly. If she was afraid, I couldn’t tell.

I sank back down on the deck, my mind racing.

I looked at my phone and started dialing even before I sneaked off the porch. I moved into the shadows near the fence.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

All of a sudden, what sounded like a dozen dogs started barking, the noise coming from every direction. Then floodlights lit up the backyard, and I heard the sliding glass door of Tess’s house open.

“Who’s out there?” Darren yelled.

I moved into the one corner where there was no light. A huge mistake. The gate to the fence was on the other side of the yard, and I wasn’t going to be able to scale the fence.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

Darren was out on the porch now, peering around the yard. I couldn’t speak, or even breathe.

“Where are ya? I know you’re out there. You left the stupid gate open. Trying to rob me, huh?” Darren stumbled down the stairs into the grass, walking and pointing the gun around. “Scared, huh? Shut up!” he yelled. The dogs were still barking.

Darren started toward the corner I was in. He moved slowly, peering as if he was trying to adjust to the light, and then he pointed the gun at me.

“Gotcha.”

“9045 Conrad Street. Hurry.” I said the words as Darren lunged at me. He snatched the phone out of my hand and tossed it over the fence. He grabbed my shoulder and a chunk of my hair, then dragged me up the deck stairs and threw me into the bright light of the kitchen. I tripped forward and fell to the floor.

“Mallory!” Tess said.

“You sit down.” Darren pointed the gun at her.

I stood up and backed away. Darren was laughing, and then, just like that, he sneered and pointed the gun at me. “You call the cops?” he asked.

I stole a glance at Tess. She held one of her hands flat and moved it toward the floor.
Calm down,
she was telling me. I felt as if every muscle was trembling. I could barely stand.

Darren stepped closer; the smell of booze and cigarettes was nauseating. Mrs. Howard was whimpering on the floor. Darren pressed the gun to my chin. Until that moment the whole thing had seemed surreal. As if it were someone else’s story. But the gun felt hard and very real. It occurred to me that I could actually die right here and now. My whole body tensed.

“Who. Did. You. Call?” Darren’s breath came out in puffs of noxious air.

“You better take off, Darren. The cops’ll be here any minute,” Tess said calmly.

“You put her up to this?” Darren whipped the gun toward her.

She didn’t even flinch.

Darren looked at Tess, then back at me, and then shoved his revolver in the front of his filthy jeans.

“Don’t think this is over.” At that moment we all heard the faint whir of sirens.

Darren spat on the floor but took off out the back door as the sirens grew louder and louder.

“Leave,” Tess said. She started moving around the room, righting chairs and cleaning things up.

I followed her into the living room. “Tess?”

“What are you doing here? I had it under control.” Tess didn’t even stop to look at me. She grabbed some glass liquor bottles as the sirens came closer.

“Under control? He was waving a gun around.” I searched Tess’s face for some clue as to how we both could see the same thing and yet still see something completely different.

“I know how to handle him. You should have stayed out of it.” Her voice got harder, angrier, as she kept talking. “Now I have to deal with the cops and explain—Mallory, get out of here!” This time it was an order.

“I was trying to help.”

Blue and red lights flashed over us as at least two patrol cars pulled up out front.

“Go out the back. Wait until they’re inside and then go home.
Now
.”

Someone pounded on the door. “Police. Open up!”

Tess pointed to the back; and I turned and left, feeling hurt, confused, and angry. She didn’t seem like the same Tess I had always known. This Tess was someone I had never met, and was kind of sorry I had.

I closed the sliding door and hurried around to the gate.
She told me to wait, but I just wanted to go home. The side yard was dark, but I kept running, straight into something solid.

“Whoa there, slow down. Where are you off to?” The man’s voice was calm, and he had me by the shoulders. He flipped on a flashlight, and I could see the uniform. He let me go, then flicked the flashlight toward the house.

“Were you in there?”

I nodded. I should have just smiled and shrugged my shoulders. But no, I picked this moment to tell the truth.

“Are you the one who called?”

I nodded again.

He smiled at me and wasn’t the least bit threatening. After Darren, he was a welcome sight. “Let’s go back inside so we can talk about what happened.”

I shook my head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I have to get home.”

He nodded. “I understand. I’ll drive you.”

“It’s only a few blocks. I walk it all the time.”

“Now see, here’s the problem. I can’t let you go off by yourself. And besides, we still need to talk. Come on.”

He turned but stayed right beside me.
I could run. One quick duck and I’d be down the road.
But then what would happen? Would I be the one in trouble?

So I followed him to his car and crawled in the back when he opened the door. He talked to another officer for a couple of minutes and then climbed into the driver’s seat.

At least he left off the lights and sirens. I told him where to go, hoping that everyone was still out. But my parents’ SUV was in the driveway, and the porch lights were on. It
occurred to me that I was the only one who really knew anything. So I didn’t need to admit to what I’d seen. I quickly pulled my story together: I was outside and heard yelling, got scared, and called 9-1-1. But it turned out to be nothing.

Simple.

The officer opened the door for me.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said.

He followed me up to the porch. Just as I was about to open the door, he stopped me and rang the doorbell.

My dad answered, and a look of panic crossed his face. “Are you okay? Is Darby okay? What’s wrong?”

“Sir. I’m Officer Vasser. Everything’s just fine.”

“Ryan? Who is it?” My mom appeared in the doorway and went through the same questions as my dad, only more frantically.

“If I could come inside, I’ll explain everything,” Officer Vasser said.

On the way to the living room, my mom switched gears. “Did you do something? What did you do?”

I slumped into a chair while my parents hovered on the edge of the couch. Officer Vasser explained what had happened and why he’d brought me home.

“I just needed to hear your daughter’s version of the events. For the report, you know.”

“Of course, of course.” My dad gestured toward me. “Ask her anything you’d like.”

Officer Vasser and my parents all turned to stare at me.

And I told them my story. It was actually true—just minus a few details. I feigned ignorance at his other questions. When the officer was satisfied, my parents showed him to the door and then returned to the living room.

My mom planted her hands on her hips. “Is that what really happened?”

“Yes.”

“What aren’t you telling us?” Dad asked.

“Nothing.”

Dad sat on the coffee table in front of me. He looked older, grayer. When had that happened? “Mally, listen. We know something’s going on at Tess’s, but this is serious. We’ve stayed out of it up till now; but when the police are being called, well, we can’t stay out of it anymore.”

“Can we do this tomorrow?” I asked. “Please.”

Mom and Dad exchanged a look and then nodded. I stood up, feeling exhausted. I just wanted to close my eyes and not think.

They enveloped me in a hug. I didn’t pull away. I felt too safe. But when I finally did, I saw tears in the corners of my mom’s eyes.

“You can tell us anything—you know that, right?”

I nodded. But it wasn’t my story to tell.

I woke up on Saturday with a pounding headache, so I stayed in bed, listening to the rain drumming on the roof. Perfect weather for my mood.

Tess.

I dreaded finding out what had happened with the police, her mom. My parents were way past suspicious. They didn’t even know yet about me calling Darby for help. I wasn’t sure if they knew Darby was on a date, but if they found out I had interrupted something so important… I couldn’t think about it.

My room seemed so bare without Todd. That fantasy world was so much simpler than the real one I was now dealing with. I could impose rules and structure on a fictional life, but my real life had dissolved into chaos, and I didn’t know what to do about it.

Someone knocked on my door softly, then cracked it open.

“You up?” my mom asked.

I turned over to face her. She came in with one of her three dozen teacher mugs in her hand. She was wearing yoga pants, and her hair was still messy with sleep. She sat on the edge of my bed and put her arm on my leg.

I thought back to Tess’s mom whimpering on the floor.
I’m a lucky girl.

“I know balancing confidences can be hard. And sometimes people ask us to keep secrets for good reasons. And sometimes they ask us to for bad reasons. I promise you, Mallory, if you tell me what’s going on, I’m not going to do anything on my own. I just want to help you figure it out. Whatever it is.”

“You’ll want to tell. You won’t be able to help yourself.” I pulled myself into a sitting position and leaned back on the headboard. “I know you.”

“I’m not saying I won’t want to. But I’m really worried. And I need to know what’s going on. We can’t keep secrets from each other. I don’t want you to… to ever feel like… like Darby did.” Mom’s voice cracked, and she pressed her fist to her mouth.

“Mom, I’m not suicidal.”

“I didn’t think Darby was either.”

And that was it in a nutshell.

I had to tell my mom something. But what could I say that wouldn’t worry her more? The gun thing was out, but maybe the rest. I decided to start off slow.

“Tess’s mom drinks.”

Mom nodded. “Okay, how much?”

“A lot.”

Slowly, the main parts of the story spilled out: the drinking, Tess’s worries about foster care, Darren’s behavior (minus the detail about the gun). I was sure that would send my mom right over the edge. She nodded a lot and urged me to continue, all the while sipping her coffee.

When I was done, Mom didn’t say anything for several minutes.

“You want to tell, don’t you?”

“Absolutely. Don’t you?”

“Well, yeah. But what will happen to Tess if I do?”

“What will happen to Tess if you don’t?”

Good point.

My mom shook her head. “It may be out of your hands, anyway. If the police were there last night and saw her mom’s condition, well, they may have already called social services to investigate.”

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