Lena wasn’t sure how she made it up the steps, but she found herself with her hand on the doorknob, her palms slick and sweaty. She took a breath, opening the door.
“Hi!” Nan popped up from the chair where she had been sitting, moving behind it as if she needed a shield. Her eyes were wide, her voice unnaturally high. “We were just waiting for you. Oh, my God! Your ear!” She put her hand to her mouth.
“It’s better than it looks.”
Ethan was on the couch, his arm across the back, his legs open in a hostile stance that managed to take up the entire room. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. The threat of him seeped out of every pore.
“Are you okay?” Nan insisted. “ Lena? What happened?”
Lena said, “There was a situation,” keeping her eyes on Ethan.
“They didn’t say much of anything on the news,” Nan said. She was edging toward the kitchen, almost giddy from stress. Ethan stayed where he was, his jaw in a tight line, his muscles flexed. Lena saw his book bag beside his feet and wondered what he had in there. Something heavy, probably. Something to beat her with.
Nan offered, “Would you like some tea?”
“That’s okay,” Lena told her, then said to Ethan, “Let’s go to my room.”
“We could play some cards, Lee.” Nan ’s voice wavered. She was obviously alarmed, and she stood her ground. “Why don’t we all play some cards?”
“That’s okay,” Lena answered, knowing she had to do everything in her power to keep Nan out of harm’s way. Lena had brought this on herself, but Nan would not be hurt because of it. She owed that to Sibyl. She owed that to herself.
Nan tried, “Lee?”
“It’s okay, Nan.” Again, she told Ethan, “Let’s go to my room.”
He didn’t move at first, letting her know he was in charge of the situation. When he got up, he took his time, stretching his arms in front of him, faking a yawn.
Lena turned her back to him, ignoring the show. She went into her room and sat on the bed, waiting, praying that he would leave Nan alone.
Ethan sauntered into her bedroom, eyeing her suspiciously. “Where you been?” he asked, shutting the door with a soft click. He gripped his book bag in one hand, keeping his arms at his side.
She shrugged. “Work.”
He dropped the bag with a solid clunk onto the floor. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“You shouldn’t come here,” she told him.
“That so?”
“I would’ve called you.” She lied, “I was going to come by later.”
“You bent the rim on my front tire,” he said. “It cost me eighty bucks to get a new one.”
She stood, going to the bureau. “I’ll pay you back,” she said, opening the top drawer. She kept her money in an old cigar box. Beside it was a black plastic case that held a Mini-Glock. Nan ’s father was a cop and after Sibyl had been murdered, he had insisted his daughter take the gun. Nan had given it to Lena, and Lena had put it in the drawer as a backup. At night, her service weapon was always on the bedside table, but knowing the other Glock was in the drawer, sitting in the unlocked plastic case, was the only reason she was able to go to sleep.
She could take the gun now. She could take it and use it and finally get Ethan out of her life.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
Lena took out the cigar box and slid the drawer closed. She put the box on top of the dresser and opened the lid. Ethan’s large hand reached in front of her, closing back the lid.
He was standing behind her, his body barely touching hers. She felt the whisper of his breath on the back of her neck when he said, “I don’t want your money.”
She cleared her throat so that she could speak. “What do you want?”
He took another step closer. “You know what I want.”
She could feel his cock harden as he pressed it against her ass. He put his hands on either side of her, resting them on top of the dresser, trapping her.
He said, “ Nan wouldn’t tell me who CD-boy is.”
Lena bit her lip, feeling the sting as she drew blood. She thought about Terri Stanley when they had knocked on her door this morning, the way she had held her jaw rigid as she talked to keep her lip from breaking open. Terri would never have to do that again. She would never again lie awake at night, wondering what Dale was going to do next. She would never have to be afraid.
Ethan started rubbing against her. The sensation made her feel sick. “Me and Nan had a real good talk.”
“Leave Nan alone.”
“You want me to leave her alone?” His hand snaked around, grabbing her breast so hard she had to sink her teeth into the flesh of her lip to keep from crying out. “This is mine,” he reminded her. “You hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Nobody touches you but me.”
Lena closed her eyes, willing herself not to scream as his lips brushed against her neck.
“I’ll kill anybody who touches you.” He tightened his fist around her breast as if he wanted to rip it off. “One more dead body don’t mean shit to me,” he hissed. “You hear?”
“Yes.” Her heart thudded once in her chest, then she could no longer feel it beating. She had felt numb with fear, but just as suddenly, she felt nothing.
Slowly, Lena turned around. She saw her hands come up, not to slap him but to tenderly cup his face. She felt light-headed, dizzy, as if she were somewhere else in the room, watching herself with Ethan. When her lips met his, she felt nothing. His tongue had no taste. His callused fingers as he pushed his hand down the front of her pants brought no sensation.
On the bed, he was rougher than ever before, pinning her down, somehow more angry that she wasn’t resisting. Through it all, Lena still felt apart from herself, even as he pushed into her like a blade slicing through her insides. She was aware of the pain as she was aware of her breathing; a fact, an uncontrollable process through which her body survived.
Ethan finished quickly and Lena lay there feeling like she had been marked by a dog. He rolled onto his back, breathing hard, satisfied with himself. It wasn’t until she heard the steady low snore of his sleep that Lena felt her senses slowly begin to return. The smell of his sweat. The taste of his tongue. The sticky wetness between her legs.
He hadn’t used a condom.
Lena carefully rolled onto her side, feeling what he had left drain out of her. She watched the clock slowly mark the time, first minutes, then hours. One hour. Two. She waited until three hours had passed before she rose from the bed. She held her breath, listening for a change in the cadence of Ethan’s breathing as she crouched to the floor.
She moved slowly, as if through water, sliding open the top drawer of her bureau, taking out the black plastic case. She sat on the floor, her back to Ethan, holding her breath as she unsnapped the lock. The noise filled the room like a gunshot. She tried not to gasp as Ethan shifted in bed. Lena closed her eyes, fighting panic as she waited for his hand on her back, his fingers wrapped around her throat. She turned her head, looking over her shoulder.
He was on his side, facing away from her.
The weapon was loaded, a round from the magazine already chambered. She cradled the gun in her hands, feeling it grow heavier and heavier until she let her hands drift to her lap. A smaller version of her service weapon, the Mini could do just as much damage up close. Lena closed her eyes again, feeling the mist of blood Terri had sprayed into her face, hearing her last words, almost triumphant: I got away.
Lena stared at the gun, the black metal cold against her hands. She turned to make sure Ethan was still sleeping.
His book bag was on the floor where he had dropped it. She gritted her teeth as she opened the zipper, the sound reverberating in her chest. The bag was a nice one, Swiss Army, with several large pockets and plenty of storage. Ethan kept everything in the bag- his wallet, his books for school, even some gym clothes. He wouldn’t notice a couple of extra pounds.