Page 28 of Give Me Peace

I slump to the floor and lean against Saylor’s dresser, never taking my eyes off of her. I hope her sleep is dreamless. She’s still as can be, and there’s no movement behind her eyelids, so maybe she’s at peace. When I’d walked in the kitchen this morning and found her sitting there in Kash’s sweatshirt, fuzzy socks pulled halfway up her calves, I thought she’d never looked more beautiful. I also wanted to rip my shirt off and have her wear it instead. Her hair was mussed from sleep, but those guarded blue eyes still looked at me with a hint of fear, and that alone stole my focus.

I’m sure Saylor has no idea what to expect from me. I’ve given her no reason to think she can let her guard down while I’m around, but I’m determined to make things right. I need her. It’s irrational and obsessive, but it’s not something I have any say in. There’s this connection between us and it’s uncontrollable. And that’s not guilt speaking, because I’ve always sought this girl out. Even when my intentions were impure. I’m not sure how much time has passed when Saylor finally stirs, but I stay seated and wait for her to notice me.

She stares back at me, looking perplexed. Probably wondering what the hell I’m doing in her room. Neither of us says a word for a good five minutes, we just watch each other. And maybe I’m the dumbest fucker in the world, but I stand and erase the few feet between us. Saylor rolls to her back as I stand above her, visibly tenser than she was a second ago. With slow movements, I bring my hand up and brush a stray piece of hair from her face. Her lip’s part on a sharp inhale.

“Hey, pretty girl,” I whisper, not wanting to break the bubble we’re in. “There’s something I’d like to show you. Would that be, okay?” Her eyes dart back and forth between mine, likely searching for whatever bullshit she thinks I’m trying to pull. She nods, but it’s clear she’s questioning her decision, so I step back and head to my room before she changes her mind. It only takes me a minute to find what I’m looking for, and then I’m back, watching as Saylor situates herself so she’s propped against her headboard.

“When you disappeared, I kinda lost it. Felt responsible, and I am to some extent. But it took your mom to set me straight.” I take a seat at the end of her bed, placing the box beside me.

“My mom?” Saylor sits up straighter, that button nose of hers scrunching adorably.

“Yep,” I laugh. “It was rocky at first. She knew exactly who I was and there was no love lost for the boy who’d put her daughter through years of torment.” I smile, but it’s self-deprecating. “I went to every search party. Posted flyers in every town I could hitch a ride to. And then I knocked on your front and confessed it was all my fault. I explained what happened the day you were taken, that I let you walk away.” I grind my teeth together, feeling disgusted with myself all over again.

“She slapped the shit out of me.” Saylor gasps, her hand going to her mouth. But I just shake my head, a small smile playing at my lips. “I swear, sometimes I can still feel the sting. Tiny but mighty, you Radley women.” A faint laugh leaves Saylor, but her eyes are full of pain.

“I kept coming back, even though she made it clear she had no interest in having me around. I cut the grass, changed the porch light that was blown, whatever I could find to just…be there. It took a year before she ever said another word to me, but all those angry looks and blatant dismals were worth it in the end.” I clear my throat, needing a second to regroup.

“She forgave me. Just like that.” I snap my fingers. “Swore it wasn’t my fault and begged me to let go of my guilt. It helped, to hear that from the person most affected by your disappearance, but it will never erase the part I played. I’ll always feel some measure of responsibility.” Saylor has silent tears running down her face, and I want, more than anything, to pull her closer and whisper a thousand apologies.

“So, I was there, every day, doing whatever I could to make your mom’s life a little bit easier. Sometimes we just sat there, in the rockers on the front porch, without ever saying a word. Other times I’d help her make dinner or we’d sit around and watch old home videos. Whatever she wanted to do. I got to hear a hundred stories about the girl I treated like shit, and each one broke my fucking heart a little more. But I never asked her to stop; I deserved to know exactly what I missed out on by not having you in my life. All those wasted years.” I shake my head, knowing there’s fuck all I can do to change the past, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing I could.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully, Say.” I slide forward and frame her face with my hands. She breathes heavily but makes no move to pull away. “You did nothing wrong. Not a damn thing. I was an asshole kid with a shitty home life and you…you were fucking perfect. You had everything I wanted and I envied you. That still doesn’t excuse the shit I did or the things I said. If you hate me for the rest of your life, I’ll understand. But I hope you won’t. God, I hope you won’t. I’m a selfish bastard, so even though I don’t deserve it, this is me asking for forgiveness. Begging. I’m so fucking sorry, pretty girl.”

I swipe my thumbs beneath her eyes, clearing away the tears that continue to fall. She doesn’t say anything, and the deer in headlights look she’s got going on has me pulling away to give her some space. I can only hope she believes me. I grab the box from beside me and place it on my lap.

“You haven’t asked, but I’m sure you’d like to know. Liz had breast cancer. It was aggressive, but there was a chance she could beat it. Unfortunately, she declined any intervention.”

“What?” Saylor’s disbelief is evident, as is the hurt in her voice. “What does that mean?”

“I think she was tired and heartbroken, so she didn’t see a point in fighting what she deemed inevitable. Recovery was slim. I didn’t know until things were too bad and treatment was no longer an option. I promise you, I would’ve tried to change her mind had I known sooner, which is probably the exact reason she didn’t tell me.” I regret not noticing the signs I should’ve picked up on. Liz being tired more often than normal, the drop in weight. I’d attributed the changes to stress from work and Saylor’s case growing colder by the day. Not to mention I was living here, three hours away, and didn’t see her nearly as often.

“Am I the reason she’s dead?” Saylor whimpers. “Why would she do that?”

“Fuck, Say.” I wrap my arms around her, hugging her against me. “Shh. It’s okay. Please don’t think that. Your mom saw firsthand how brutal treatment could be on a daily basis because of her job. I honestly believe that was a huge deciding factor for her. She wanted to enjoy the time she had. Do I think if you were home, if you’d never been taken, that she would have fought? Abso-fucking-lutely. Because she never would have left you without trying. Never. That doesn’t mean you’re the cause for her choice.” She sniffles and peels herself away, so I take my place back at the foot of the bed. Her eyes are puffy and red, and I know her heart has taken a goddamn beating today, but I’m hoping I can make it a little better.

“I was there till the very end. I made sure she wasn’t alone.” Saylor’s chin trembles, so I’m not sure if that’s something she finds comfort in or not. “She set aside some things for me to keep, and a letter she wrote to you. Just in case you ever found your way home.”

“She did?” Her eyes are bright with hope, and I pray whatever she reads gives her closure and heals the parts my words can’t touch.

“She did.” I smile, feeling grateful Liz thought to do something like that before she got too sick. “I’ve never opened it. Whatever she had to say was meant for you alone. But there’s something else in here, too.” I tap the box, hoping like hell Saylor’s not going to freak out. I pull back the top and grab the urn encasing her mother’s ashes. I’ve barely gotten it in my hands when she yanks it from me and holds it to her chest, as if it might disappear. Her eyes are closed, a bittersweet smile carved across her pretty face.

“She hasn’t been in a box this entire time,” I quickly add, seeing how it could look that way. “I’ve had her on a shelf. Even talk to her sometimes.” I shrug at the look Saylor gives me.

“Mom told me once that I better not put her in the dirt with the creepy crawlies. She wanted one of those fancy drawers or to be cremated.” Her watery laugh makes my chest twinge, but I follow her finger as she traces the carved design of her mother’s final resting place.

“We arranged everything shortly after she broke the news to me. I took some time off and stayed until she passed.” Saylor smiles appreciatively, but it’s thin. “January 5th, 2021, is the day of her death. So, she’s been gone about a year and a half now.” I slide the box between us, letting her take the lead on how and when she chooses to go through the contents. I’ve seen everything but the letter, so I know it’ll be emotional for her to reacquaint herself with old items of her mother’s and mementos from her childhood.

“Why do the guys call you Kade?” Saylor asks, the question completely off topic from what we’d been discussing.

“I hate the name Havok,” I tell her honestly. “My parents thought it was fitting, I guess, since I fucked their plans up by being born.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t use it anymore.” She frowns, looking bothered by my admission.

“It’s okay, pretty girl.” I grin, not wanting her upset on my behalf. “I don’t mind you calling me that. It’s more the way it was used, how it was spoken, than the name itself. Like it was synonymous with a curse word. I’ve never felt that way when you say my name.” I can still remember the way her voice sounded all those years ago, the first time she called out to me. Dainty and sweet. “The guys caught on pretty quickly that I wasn’t really a fan and took Kade from my last name.”

“That makes sense.” Saylor nods.

“I’m gonna head out. I know it’s been another shit day, but I’m here if you need me. We all are.” I’m just about turn the doorknob when she stops me.