Chapter Eighteen

She stirred but still wouldn’t awaken. We didn’t have all day and I suspected that Father Xavier would send in reinforcements once he realized Max was nowhere to be found.

I stepped over the piles of clothes on the floor, heading for the kitchen. Ice clinked and cracked in the glass as water rushed over it. Rosie wasn’t going to like this, but what were my alternatives?

I returned to her room, set the glass onto the nightstand, and gripped her shoulders, trying to shake her awake. She wouldn’t budge.

“I am so sorry, Rosie. You’ll forgive me later.” I poured the water onto her face, its coldness jerking her awake. Any other day, I would be laughing. Today, my shoulders relaxed at her reaction.

“The Hell?” she said groggily. She jumped up, pulling the sheet around her naked body.

“You weren’t waking up. We need to get out of here and I don’t have time to explain right now.”

“Did I bring a guy back? I remember this guy—Matt? Mac?—hanging around me last night,” she rubbed her eyes, coating her fingers and cheeks with mascara.

“His name was Max and I think he may have drugged you,” I said. “We have to go. Pack an overnight bag so you can clean yourself up later.”

Her knees wobbled and she sat down on the bed. “I’m gonna be si…” Vomit sprayed onto the floor before she finished. Sympathy heaves bubbled as I quickly turned away from the mess.

“It’s okay. Mind over matter.” It was directed to myself, but Rosie acknowledged it with a nod.

I filled the glass with water and urged her to take small sips of it as I cleaned the puddle from the floor.

She hobbled to the bathroom and I opened her dresser. It was empty. Most of her clothes were in heaps on the floor. I raced to my room in search of whatever might fit her. She would be wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt whether she wanted to or not.

While she dressed, I packed toiletries and two summer dressesinto a duffel bag, hoping that would cover us for the day. I turned my attention to the throw pillow on my bed.

Thank god I’d had enough foresight not to leave them in my backpack. If it weren't for my paranoia, my parents would most likely be planning two funerals. I shuddered at the thought of them losing both of us.

Why had I allowed myself to be talked into this precarious situation?

It all came down to a beautiful man. He could have talked me into anything. It also came down to my curiosity. Once it had been piqued, there was no looking back. Perhaps Jack saw that in me and that was why he chose me. Or maybe it was his attempt at establishing a bond with me. My worries were coming to an end tonight, and the prospect of destroying the church made my time in the darkness of that cold room worthwhile. We’d make Mad Max confess, and it was straight to the authorities after that.

All we had to do was make it through the day.

“Where’re your keys?” I asked as Rosie staggered into the living room. She shrugged her shoulders so I rummaged through her purse until my fingernails caught on the jagged edge of one of her keys. “We’re taking your car. I hope you’ve got gas in it.”

“I filled up yesterday.” My urgency finally registered with her. “What’s going on, Lily?”

“We’ll talk later.”  I tossed both our purses into the bag and slid the backpack over my shoulders.

She leaned on me for support as we walked to the car, her eyes filling with horror as she noticed the marks around my neck.

I neglected answering her pleas to be told how they got there. At the moment, they were distractions when my attention needed to be at its sharpest. Though my neck hurt, that pain was nothing compared to what I felt in my back and ribs. Max had done a number on me, but the thought of me having my way with him later strengthened my resolve not to complain.

I floored the gas pedal to Nashville, stopping only for some breakfast sandwiches and a drink before we arrived at the inn. This time, the man behind the counter gave me no grief as he avoided staring uncomfortably at my neck. His chocolate eyes were laden with concern as he accepted payment for two nights and dropped the key into my hand. It seemed like he was going to say something, but he opted for silence as I left the lobby.

When Rosie came out of her shower, I said, “I have an explanation for all of the secrets, but I need for you to hear me out before you pass any judgments.”

I sighed then started with Jack’s assignment of my research topic, working my way to Mad Max being in the apartment this morning. Rosie’s eyebrows arched and her forehead furrowed at the right times, but she remained silent for the duration.

“Wow. Talk about a hornet's nest,” she said. “I can’t believe you actually pulled this off. Never would have guessed you had it in you. Do you think maybe they were setting you up? It just seems too easy, like they’re trying to frame you for something.”

Everything had gone too smoothly. Had Father Xavier known my true intentions all along? But if he had, why would he give me the opportunity to sink him?--unless this was a case of keeping his enemies closer. But I wouldn’t give my enemies total access to the kingdom, only to have them use it against me. Maybe he was following orders.

“I think we should make a few copies of everything—send one to Mom and Dad, another to my address in California, one for Jack.”

“I agree. Can you make any sense out of the contents of the packages?”

She frowned as she read through my notes. “You should have taken some of them while you were at it. Then we would have concrete evidence and the police could run forensics on them."

"That would have been the smart thing to do."

She laughed. "I’ve heard of misoprostol somewhere, but can’t remember what it is. We'll go to the library after we make copies of these papers.”

The librarian peered up from her book as we walked inside and hastily planted ourselves in front of one of the four computers available to the public. We entered the drug’s name into an engine search and gasped as we read the results.

“Misoprostol is used by arthritic patients to decrease the risk of ulcers as a result of pain treatment. Do not take this medication if you are pregnant, as rupture of the uterus can occur, resulting in fetal/maternal death. This drug is currently banned in the United States as an abortifacient.”

Well, that explained why it was being smuggled into Dr. Osborn’s office, but to what purpose? It made no sense to me, but it was evident that the church and the OB-GYN were enmeshed in illegal activities. Any reputable obstetrician would have no need for the drug and I was convinced one phone call to the authorities could shut down that particular branch of the Order for good. But first, I wanted to speak with Jack and preferably kick Mad Max a couple of times while he answered my lengthening list of questions.

Having a few hours to kill before we’d meet up with Jack, we decided to go shopping in the quaint little town. We walked through the village and browsed the antique and craft stores. Knowing that people were gawking at the purpling marks around my neck, I purchased a blue paisley scarf for myself, and a red one with the same pattern for Rosie from a kiosk outside a country boutique.

Rosie knotted the scarf around my neck and we continued browsing the stores but without the concerned stares from passers-by. After an hour of window-shopping and a stop at a photo booth for some goofy pictures, we drove to the State Park and hiked a short trail.

It was the first time we actually enjoyed each other’s company since she’d been back. No secrets hovered between us and we were able to enjoy the scenery. We reminisced about high school, boys we’d liked, love we’d lost and found, mom’s cooking, and dad’s overprotectiveness. We talked about Mad Max and wondered what Jack had done with him. We came up with ideas for what we would like to do to him, each of us trying to one-up the other in gruesomeness as we walked past oak trees and an empty campground.

At around 3:00, we hiked back to the car, huffing and puffing from the steep climb and the humidity that soaked the air. The sky grayed anew as we parked at the motel and dressed for dinner with Jack tonight.

I held out hope that Jack wouldn’t leave me the moment that he had his copies. It came down to trust, and we’d been through so much. Even with his moodiness, he’d always come through when it concerned me. I would know soon enough it our relationship had just been a ploy.

As we pulled into the apartment complex’s parking lot, the “check engine” light illuminated, and the car sputtered into the parking space.

“When was the last time you checked the oil?” I asked her as she climbed out of the car.

“Ummm, I think Dad checked it during Spring Break,” she answered sheepishly.

“He’s going to kill you. This makes how many engines now?” Dad was always on us about checking the oil and maintaining our cars. I was horrible about keeping the gas tank full, but I didn’t mess around with the rest of the maintenance. Rosie’s car was lucky to see two oil changes in a year.

We walked hesitantly towards the apartment, not wanting to go inside, but not wanting to lurk outside for any crazies to off at the priest's command. I pulled my cell phone out of my purse, ready to dial 9-1-1 should someone be on the other side of the door. I handed Rosie the taser. The phone rang as I keyed the lock.

“Hey, we’re still on for tonight, right?” Jack asked.

“I hope so. Is going to Indy wise? We have a lot to talk about.” I replied.

He was silent and I could almost feel his demeanor icing over. “You told Rose everything?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Would you want her to think you put these marks around my neck? That's what she'd naturally conclude." Why did everything have to remain a secret with him?

"That's a good point."

"Thanks to Rosie, we actually have a couple more pieces to the puzzle. I think you’re going to like what we show you.”

“Very well. You won’t mind driving us tonight will you? I dropped my car off at the mechanic’s today and it still isn’t ready. I’m in a cab right now,” he explained.

“It’s fine. I’ll have to fill it with gas, but we should make our reservation with time to spare.”

“I’m about five minutes away, Sweetie.” His voice was warm again.

I hung up the phone and turned to Rosie, telling her we’d have to make it quick inside the apartment. We entered slowly, taking note of anything strange. No one was there, and it looked as though it had remained untouched during the day. I placed the originals inside the pillow and said a prayer that our questions would be answered by day’s end.

“I’ll drive so you two lovebirds can sit in back and have your chat,” Rosie said with a smile as she snatched the keys from my hand.

While she climbed inside the car, I checked it for slit tires or any sign of tampering.

I was probably being paranoid, but I didn’t want to take chances. It would be just our luck for it to break down and for us to be stranded. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so I slid into the passenger seat to await Jack’s arrival.

Rosie placed the key into the ignition, twisting it to start the car. I reached for her wrist. “My car’s running on fumes. Wait until Jack gets here unless you want to walk for gas.”

She left the keys hanging, but took my advice as she craned her neck sideways. “I wanted to tell you that I’m so proud of you. I’ve treated you terribly the past few days and should have trusted that you knew what you were doing.”

I laughed. “Thanks, Rosie. You were only watching out for me. I shouldn’t have lied to you. If I hadn’t done that you wouldn’t be hating on Jack.”

“I don’t 'hate him' hate him. He just hasn't won my trust. If he dumps you as soon as you give him those copies, I won’t be held responsible for what may happen to him.” She paused for a couple beats. “I guess, all in all, what I’m saying is that you’ve done good. Real good. I know Dad is going to be proud of you once these people are behind bars where they belong. And Mom will probably get gooey with as much as she dislikes the Greenies.” Her hazel eyes were warm and I knew without a doubt that the ice between us had completely melted as she wrapped her arms around me.

A tap on the window broke us apart. I opened the door to exit the car so Jack could climb into the backseat. He held a bouquet of red roses, giving it to me as he slid across the seat. I scooted in after him, but decided I wanted to show him the originals. I handed him the papers and grabbed Rosie’s keys to unlock the apartment. “You’ll find this interesting. I’ll be back in a sec.”

“That’s how you greet me?” He pulled me into a kiss, his breath tasting of cinnamon as waves of heat coursed my body. Rosie cleared her throat, rolling her eyes as I read “get a room” written on her expression.

I slid out of the backseat and dashed to the apartment, setting the roses on the table and wasting no time in retrieving the book and journal. I stuffed them into the backpack. As I reached the sidewalk, Rosie turned on the engine.

It stalled. She tried again and the car backed out of the parking spot. It rolled in my direction

A deafening boom flinched my eyes shut. My skin grew hot as the explosion ripped apart metal and rained glass to the earth. Ears ringing and raising hands to my eyes to shield them from the shrapnel, I peered through my fingers at the fiery wreckage that was my white Civic.

My sister. Jack.

Trapped inside a there that was no longer.

This couldn’t be happening. My mind was playing tricks on me. I was asleep or stuck in some dark room waiting for the damn light to flip on. There was no way that they could be gone.

But the smell of charred flesh and burning fuel let me know this was no nightmare from which I could simply awaken.  It was my reality.

And their end. What had I done?

My knees buckled and I raised bloodied hands to wipe the tears from my eyes. Was it their blood or mine?

Hysterics. Pain. Grief. Guilt. Fear. Desperation.

Weakness.

“You can’t stay here, Lily.” I heard her voice beckon to me, though no one was there. “You’ve got to go. I love you.” Invisible arms carried me to her car, buckled my seatbelt, and turned the ignition for me.

She was gone. And I was alone with no idea what to do.

Car rocking, I drove to the motel. Tears flowed heavily as I plucked glass from my face and chinked it into the trashcan. A warm shower washed away the blood from my body, but it did nothing for that which remained on my hands. I lifted the crimson duffel off the bed, and drove away from the motel.

I made the trip to Monticello, but continued past my parents’ house until I reached my uncle’s farm a few miles away. Situated more than a mile from its nearest neighbor, the farm was perfect for hiding out, especially since harvesting season was still a few months away. I unhitched the faded brown door of the pole barn and drove the car inside. Once it was secure, I walked past five grain bins to the farmhouse, its rickety shutters swaying with the wind. The window squeaked open and I climbed inside, thankful that my uncle hadn’t bothered to have it repaired since my cousin had broken it five years ago.

Memories of playing with Rosie while Grandma hollered at us to calm down flooded back to me as I sat huddled in a corner waiting for my answers. What was I supposed to do now? How was I going to survive this?

“Let’s play hide-and-go-seek! You better run fast, Lilz!” seven-year-old Rosie yelled, her pigtails flopping as she shook her head in excitement.

“I found you! You have to hide better than that!” She said as she tagged me on the arm.

Seven-year-old Rosie changed to her sixteen-year-old version, the one who had just been caught drunk and with her pants down in this very room. “You can’t tell Mom and Dad, please, Lilz! They don’t need to know about the party or him. It’ll only do more harm. You'll make them cry.”

Was she speaking to me from the grave?

Three days later, I walked to my parents’ house, certain they would be attending their daughters’ funeral. Cards were piled onto the package that waited inside the mailbox. I removed it, tucking it into my backpack as I went into their house for one last time.

Condolences and newspapers littered the kitchen table. On the front page of the paper was a picture of the car’s metal remains, along with photos of Jack, Rosie, and me. I closed my eyes in remembrance of them.

I pulled Rosie’s copy of our Nashville pictures out of the backpack. A tear dropped onto one of the photos and I wiped it clean before I hid it inside the drawer of Mom’s cherry telephone bench. Hopefully she would find it someday.

I took a lighter and some fluid from the utility room and carried them to the trashcan, flinging my robe and clover pin onto the heap. A smile crept across my face as I doused the cursed mementos with the fluid and set them ablaze.

I returned to the farm, waiting for nightfall before I left for a barrio in Chicago.

“You Juan’s friend, no?” the middle-aged man said in Spanglish as I sat on his leather couch.

“Si. Juan told me last summer about your side business. Necesito otra identidad. Can you help me?” I asked. “I’ll trade you this car.”

“You running from police?” His eyes narrowed as he took the key. “This get me in troubles?”

“No, no police. No problems for you either. I just need a fresh start.”

An hour later, Lily Clay was nothing more than air staling in a casket. Lily Rose hitched a ride with a trucker to California, and intercepted Rose’s mail before her life began anew.

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I jolted awake, and brought my arm to my forehead, my pajamas dampened by tears cried by a Lily from fifteen years ago. A twitch in my abdomen brought me back to the present. I gave the belly a pat as the baby pressed out a foot in retaliation. Tomorrow would be a good day to revisit the papers I’d kept hidden for so long.

I clutched the ring that hung from my necklace and gave it a kiss. Tomorrow. But first I had to sleep.