9. Asphyxia
Darkness. Total, unyielding, unforgiving blackness at the bottom of a cold lake. The air in this box would give me an hour, maybe two. Part of me wished that I would have taken the bullet. Even if it was only Blake, I wouldn't have died alone.
No one would ever find me here. I couldn't count on a rescue. So here I was, facing my last moments, my last breaths, my last thoughts.
Blake wasn't making a lick of sense. It seemed like he knew that I knew that he was involved in these murders somehow. But at the same time, he seemed scared of me. Guess that wasn't so outlandish; if I thought someone had evidence enough to convict me in the murders of five women, with one missing.
Was Carter Blake the alias of Desmond Casey? Had he been living a double life for over twenty years?
Something in my gut said yes, definitely. But it didn't really matter now, not in the cold, indifferent darkness of my grave. I didn't want to waste my last moments thinking about Blake.
My mom. I wondered how she was doing lately? Did she still have the house? I hoped that she was able to save it. I hoped that she was still smiling and laughing. I hoped that she'd been able to take that trip to Italy like she wanted to do when Pop was alive. I hoped that she was happy. I hoped that she was somewhat proud of me, despite our differences.
Ethan. I wished that I was more like him when it came to bravery and being honest with myself. If I was, I probably wouldn't have left things the way they were. I would have savored every time Ethan tried to show me some kind of sign that he cared. I wouldn't live in so many shadows of doubt and would've just lived life in the moment. If I was half of the man Ethan Mars was, I would've been able to love him as much as he deserved to be loved.
I would've made him and Shaun breakfast every morning. I would've surprised him with the house he'd wanted but knew that he couldn't afford. I would've tried to learn as much about life and love from his example, and try to top it to make him feel as appreciated as possible. I would've worked harder than anything else in my life to make sure that by the end he'd never have to doubt how he felt about our life together.
I'd thought a lot about my death growing up. I'd always had this feeling breathing down my neck, just something that lingered, telling me that I would die early. I never imagined how or when, that didn't matter as long as I'd lived an uncompromising life as myself and never pretending to be anyone else. Even if I didn't hold myself in high esteem after failing myself and abusing my addictions, I'd never pretended to be anyone but myself. I'd only had one prayer, one wish that I'd asked for; I never wanted to die alone.
But here I was, completely alone and isolated. No one to reach for with my hands tied behind my back. No face to see in the dark. No heart to feel in the bottom of the waves. I could try to kill it all away, but here alone I had no choice but to remember everything; my regrets, partners who'd been shot down, my legacy of nothing, and what I'd become in the end.
And what had I become? A shattered reflection of a man. An empty visage of a human being who used to be whole, but now lived in a crushed façade of reality and my mind, blended into one and indistinguishable from one another.
If I could start again, I'd be a better man. As it was, I lay broken and fragmented in a bed of thorns, strewn about by my own hands. I used to blame my demon for being so shattered, for laying out this ending. But the truth was that I had done this to myself. My self doubt, my low self worth, had woven this quilt of failure. And even realizing all of this, I had no will to fight for survival. I had no will left to fight for life. I had no desire, whatsoever, to fight for myself.
I was just too tired to keep fighting for a lost cause. I was tired of Norman Jayden.
I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes, until I felt something in my pocket jab me in my thigh. It was something jagged, hard and obdurate. It felt like a key.
And when I felt the key, I saw Ethan's face in the darkness laying next to me. My pine box had become a bed for two, and Ethan's smile lit up the room we shared.
"Were you serious when you told me that you'd never asked anyone on a date?" He asked. His face was so genuinely intrigued, his curiosity piqued with total excitement. I couldn't help but laugh.
"I was completely serious." I said. He laced his fingers into mine and squeezed firmly with some smile of adoration in his eyes instead of the pity or mockery I'd been expecting. "I'm not the suave guy who makes the first move. I'm too aware of what others think of me. Spending so much time in the heads of others, you tend to know how people will react."
"But you've spent your entire career in the dark places of people's thoughts. Serial killers, criminals, they can't compare to your future partner," he said. And there was the wisdom that hid sheltered inside of that childish personality. I wondered how these two traits had survived in that head of his. "You need to start spending your life in the heads of good people, people who care about you."
"That list is shorter than you'd think," I said.
"It only takes a few good people to stand by your side to tear down an empire of dark thoughts," he said.
"Even that takes time." It would take too much time and energy to clear enough room in my head to build a life on. More than anyone would want to spend. People didn't want baggage, they wanted an easy beginning and a roller coaster ride to the end.
"What made me the exception to you never making the first move?" He asked.
"Something Rachael Leigh said made me realize that I was just wasting my life away every moment I didn't say or do anything to let you know how I felt. And you rejecting me couldn't possibly be worse than a lifetime of watching you while standing silent." Ethan smiled and looked down at our hands.
"And you're sure?" He asked. "You do realize that I'm not the easiest person to get along with."
I laughed. "I've never been so sure about anything. I'm done trying to keep my distance, I'm done being the cautious one, I'm ready to just dive into everything with both feet. I want to jump in with you, Ethan, I want to experience life to its fullest scope with you."
That seemed to excite him, and he let go of my hand and rolled off of the bed. I sat up quizzically as he dug into his bag. He jumped back onto the bed and crawled up to me, looking me in the eyes on his hands and knees.
"I wanted to give you this just so you could come and go as you pleased while you were in town," he said. He held up a small house key, attached to a dangling keychain. The keychain was hokey, of course, some ridiculously goofy cartoon cat or mouse or something. But the key itself, it was something entirely different.
"I was glad that you used the term 'jump in with both feet' because I want you to move in," he said.
That took the words right out of my mouth. It took quite a few moments of silence for me to gather anything to say, and Ethan waited patiently.
"Don't you think that's a pretty big step?" I asked. "I mean, we don't really know each other that well…"
"We will," he said. "Think of it; you won't have to spend forever looking for somewhere to live, and I don't live far from the city."
"Why are you in such a hurry?" I asked. Looking back on this conversation, I could see myself like watching a film, and I could see the doubt and fear that Ethan had to persistently push through to reach me. I couldn't believe that he was still smiling affectionately.
"It's not like I haven't given it any thought," he said. He sat down on the edge of the bed beside me and leaned in close. "Before you came back into my life I was just living day to day, trying to keep Shaun happy and safe. But I wasn't helping him. I don't have that power, at least not alone. But when we're together it's like the pieces of what's left of me fit into you like a jigsaw puzzle, and I feel like a whole person again.
"You're so good, and you don't give yourself nearly enough credit," Ethan said. He placed the key in my palm and curled my fingers around it. "You don't have to decide now, just think about it. The choice is completely yours. But I want you to know that no matter what you choose I'm not going to give up on you. My mind's made up, I'm sure."
How great it must be to know one's feelings well enough to be so sure about everything. Looking up into his sincere eyes, I must have caught his Crazy.
"All right," I said. "I'll move in."
I did say that I didn't want to waste any more time than I had to, and if I was as sure about Ethan to want to be with him then I may as well meet him at every goal. He was so ecstatic, and I felt some warmth well up from inside.
As I was pulled back into the darkness of my chained coffin, that warmth remained. The key was in my pocket. A key to a new life, a happier life. A key of change, of worth, and to Ethan's heart.
I could let myself down before Ethan came along, and I could just lay here and die in my regrets. But Ethan had planted something inside of me, some piece of that inextinguishable hope and perseverance that shined through his eyes like the sun. Only now did I realize that Ethan was right all along. When we were apart, we were feeble men who'd been left in pieces , abandoned to grasp futilely for the missing limbs that had been pulled from us like wings from a fly.
But together we were unstoppable, we were whole again. Together we were something I couldn't have imagined, ten times stronger than I'd ever been.
I gripped my thumb on my left hand and trailed my fingers down to where it grew from the base of my palm. I took a steady breath and thought of Ethan in an attempt to dull the pain to come.
I jerked as hard as I could, and literally heard the pop as fire seized my entire left arm. The bone had broken, and the joint now empty. I screamed since I had nothing to bite down on. I would have cried and given up right then after that jolt of pain infiltrated my mind. There was no way that I could subject my body to anything else after that. But I had to for Ethan.
I pulled as hard as I could against the handcuffs, the pain of my broken hand burning like a flare in the darkness. It hurt worse than anything I'd felt, but I kept pulling. When I thought that I was going to black out from the tender sting, my arm jerked back and hit the chain-clad pine as my left arm was freed from its bind.
I cradled my hand against my chest and cried and laughed at the same time. I twisted my body, shifted my hips and reached into my right pocket, feeling the key. It was the only real thing I could feel here. Ethan was here with me after all. He'd saved my life, more than he knew.
I felt the lid above me. If I pounded and released the lid, the chains would stop it from being removed, but water would rush in and drown me as I was locked in here. But I couldn't give up, I had a different plan.
I placed my right hand on the square above my head and braced my frame as much as I could. I brought my legs up as much as I could, bent as far as they could in the confines around me, and thrust down. I kicked down again, and heard a splintering crack. I felt a small spurt of icy water as the crack fissured. I kicked again, and more water began flowing. One more kick and the bottom splintered apart. I kept kicking and kicking as the crushing weight of the water rushed inside and swallowed up the air around me. The cold black water made my muscles want to lock up but I kept kicking at the thought of Ethan, gathering my last breath at the last second before water buried me in the box.
The end was open. I wriggled out as best as I could with such a tight space, and slowly released water from my nose to keep the water out of my sinuses.
I was free. I kicked up from the soggy, muddy bed of the lake and kicked for the surface as fast as I could. When I'd sunk in the box, it felt fairly shallow for a large bed of water. But swimming upward now, it seemed like a much longer trip.
I was out of air now, but not out of determination. I kept a grip of his key in my right hand and kept kicking and kicking for the top.
My fist broke the surface of the lake, followed by my head as I emerged into the rain. I took the first real breath of my life and swallowed the cleansing rainwater with it gratefully. And a light pierced my eyes, greater than the sky around me. A hand reached out for mine and I was pulled up out of the water by some angel of mercy.
"I've got you, sir," the angel said. I opened my eyes and looked upon his face; dark skin and black eyes, and wearing a plastic-covered police cap. "You're going to be all right."
"Ethan," I said, still gasping for air. It was the only word I knew, and until I saw him again I wouldn't be able to speak another word of English in my life.
A coat was wrapped around me and another officer took my darkly bruising hand into his, examining the tender flesh. "It looks like we have an injury, too."
"Let's get him to shore, the others can fish out the evidence," the black angel said. I looked around once I'd gained the sense to realize that I was really out of that box. I was on a police boat, with three cops, not angels at all.
The boat sped along the water, and I stared back at the spot where I'd just emerge, the place of my new birth; clad in fresh skin and dark doubts shed away. The shore grew closer, and I saw flashing lights and a busy buzz of more officers and ambulance EMT's. Among them I saw once man standing among them, staring back at me as the motorboat speed with haste.
I saw his worried face, his nervous and apprehensive eyes set in anxiety. I never wanted to see him look like that again, and I would devote my new life to ensuring that. As the boat pulled up to the shore and beached itself, the officer who'd pulled me out of the water helped me step down onto the sandy shore. Wet sand clumped between the toes of my right foot, and I briefly wondered where I'd lost my shoe, but didn't care as I saw Ethan waiting for me on the beach.
He rushed up to me and even though rain streaked his face, I could tell that he'd been crying. Before, the thought of a tear shed over me would've been a mystery, a baffling concept, but in that darkness I'd realized just how Ethan really felt. Not only could I remember his words, but I could somehow feel them in my chest like seedlings taking root.
"I thought you were dead," he said.
"I remember," I said.
"What?" He asked, totally bewildered and lost. I held up the key, clutched firmly in my fingers.
"I remember," I said. A smile slowly spread across his face, and he stepped forward, arms outreached. But instead of embracing me like I thought he would, he paused, and then lowered his arms as his smile lost some of its enthusiasm. What are you doing?"
"I know you're not big on being touched, especially in front of a lot of people. I remember how you felt about what happened at the shopping center, and I don't want to do anything to mess up again, or upset you," he said in a low voice. He looked around at all of the officers and EMT's standing by, waiting for us to finish our little reunion. "I don't want to lose you."
"I don't care," I said. I stepped toward him and grabbed the back of his head, pulling his lips to mine with a burning urgency that I'd never felt before. I didn't care who was watching or what they'd think, I didn't care about being seen or touched in public. I only cared about making Ethan happy and acting on those inclinations.
I crushed my lips to his, and it wasn't at all romantic or comfortable. It was just what I needed at that time, and I didn't feel any objections from Ethan. I let go and looked up into his sincere eyes as they warmly smiled, and he pulled me into an embrace. Broken thoughts were repaired when he held me, and tiny fractures were mended. I knew without a doubt just how he felt because I could feel it myself.
"Mr. Jayden," I heard a voice outside of our sanctuary. I glanced over at the young EMT as he awkwardly shifted from foot to foot. "Are you badly injured?"
I held up my left hand. That was going to hurt for quite some time, oh boy was it going to hurt. Not to mention I would now only have one useable hand. But now I had enough evidence to start a manhunt for Blake, or Casey. Once I told the cops the whole story, they'd have no choice but to question and search him. They'd find the razor, they'd find the evidence, and justice would follow through.
As much as I would love to be there when the police took him down, I wanted to take him down first. Now I had a race to get to him before they could. Before now I would've been just fine with letting him rot in prison, but now I had a personal stake in this.
I wanted my revenge, and I wanted him dead at my hands.