Vicious Romantic

Tucker drove. I sat there. I stared at the faces of people in passing cars and he stared at the road. I wasn’t sure why he decided that he was going to drive at a normal speed. Maybe he wanted to tell me something. Maybe he wanted me to tell him something. I wanted me to tell him something as well. My lips were frozen shut.

“Tucker?” I asked. The sun was starting to peek over the mountains as he drove. It was casting a glow of pink in the sky.

“Yeah?” he kept his eyes narrowed on the road ahead of him.

“What am I going to tell people? They’re going to want to know where I was.” I watched Tucker’s face cloud with unreadable emotions.

“Tell them the truth.” he responded sullenly. “You were kidnaped and used as a pawn in the killing a mostly innocent man.” He left it at that. There was nothing like his plans to kill people. There was no plan in case they plan went a stray.

I stayed quiet and thought about it. I would tell people the truth. I would just leave out minor details, like vampires. People would surely think I’m crazy. They’ll think my captors were crazy. Why would they allow me to go home? Why was Tucker letting me go home? Did he want me to be happy? That’s what I liked to think. Maybe he just wanted me out of his sight. I could bring up memories of Adele, and he’s moving on. My face would just hold him back.

Tucker stopped at the end of my mom’s driveway. His car was idle and he started straight a head, waiting for me to get out. I took a deep breath, I had to tell him. I’d regret it if I didn’t.

“Tucker,” I couldn’t do it. He’d reject me, just like I rejected him. He turned toward me with curiosity in his eyes. “thank you for bringing me home.” I rushed. Tucker stared at me for a minute. One long minute. Then he laughed bitterly and shook his head from side to side.

“Get out.” he mumbled looking back toward the road. I was shocked by his words, even though I should have been. “Get out!” he repeated through his teeth, nostrils flaring, and hands gripping the steering while tightly.

I jumped from the car, as soon as the door was shut he sped off. Faster than I’ve ever seen him drive. I did it. I managed to ruin things once again. I shuffled my feet up the walk and picked pebbles out of my way. I took on deep breath before I rang the doorbell. I heard the sound of feet against the stairs and then the sound of feet hitting the landing.

In window beside the door, Matthew’s face peered out at me. His face disappeared from the window and the door was ripped open. He hugged me closely.

“Bailey! You’re home! We’re have you been?” When your only a year apart from your sibling you share a close bond. Tears sprung from my eyes as I hugged my little brother tightly. All morning, I was interviewed time and time again. Telling the same true story, just leaving out the vampires. The story appeared on all the local News reports and in the newspaper.

People say the scent is the strongest sense tied to memory. I agree with those people one hundred percent. Every night I’d go to sleep regretting my decision of not speaking up and smelling like strawberry shampoo. Every morning I’d wake up and feel like everything was perfect and smelling of musk, sage, and mahogany. It was evidence that Tucker was there at night. I wished he would visit when I was awake, but it was no use. If I stayed up, he wouldn’t show.

For two months I worked on keeping heartbeat steady and my breathing shallow while I thought of him. This way I could trick him into visiting while I was awake. I heard the window slide open and I concentrated on keeping my breathing even. My bedroom door creaked open and I felt the edge of my bed sink under his weight. Finally, I felt his cold fingers combing through my hair. I decided to waste no more time.

“I love you.” I blurted out. Tucker stopped combing his finger through my hair. I blinked up at him. His face was one of pure shock.

“No.” he shook his head with a wry smile.

“Yes.” I confirmed trying to make my voice sound powerful.

“No. Stockholm Syndrome. That’s what you’re feeling.” he argued.

“No, that’s not what I’m feeling! I love you! Why do you have to make everything so difficult?” I growled frustrated that he was arguing with me about my own feelings.

“Because you’re cute when you’re mad.” Tucker grinned at me. In an instant his lips caught mine in a gentle kiss. “I love you too.” he whispered leaving a tinny gap between our lips.

I wrote two notes. One to my brother, explaining what really happened to me while I was gone. Asking him to believe me, but saying I understood if he couldn’t. The second, to my mother. I explained to her that I met a boy, I fell in love, and was choosing to spend the rest of my existence with him. Keyword, existence. Tucker and I got married, we had two beautiful half-breed children, and then I changed for the better. I changed into a permanent fixture, immortal, blood sucking, and happy as could be.

Was it Stockholm Syndrome? No. Was it insane? Maybe. Was it love? Absolutely without a doubt.