Our Love Isn't Perfect, But It's True

The old truck clambered down the dirt road, surprisingly similar to the driveway of the farmhouse I called home. It didn't occur to me how many people could possibly be hurt because of me, and how many already had, until now.

In case you were wondering, the handgun that sat in the middle seat was also a gift from my grandfather. It was left in the truck when he died and therefore left to me. I had no permit or license or whatever was needed to carry it, so the gun was illegal. But no one ever asked, so I decided not to tell.

I noticed Tyler's clenched fists that sat in his lap, their knuckles white. His stared straight ahead, jaw set and whole body tense. I couldn't understand why Tyler would stay with me. My life was full of deadly drama everywhere I turned. And he was pulled in to all that shit just by being with me. I sighed heavily and spared a glance his way, trying to keep my eyes on the winding road.

"Tyler?" he significantly relaxed at the sound of my voice. Tyler turned to look at me, smiling. It wasn't a happy smile, more like a comforting smile. "You didn't have to come with me, you know. Psycho has people he could possibly use against us, men stronger than you or I. It's not safe."

"Mick, no matter how much you refuse to believe it, I love you. I love you way more than my own safety," Tyler stated, taking my hand in his for effect. I turned to him and returned his grin with one of my own. "I can deal with the crazies. Living without you? That wouldn't work for me."

I leaned over, just to peck him on the cheek. "I love you too, Tyler. But I want you to know something," my voice become suddenly serious, narrowing my ice blue eyes as I watched the street. "If Psycho's there and anything happens, if I get hurt or Psycho is trying to kill us, I want you to get out of there. If you have an exit at any time, you have to take it. I'd rather take the fall knowing you're safe than force you to fall with me."

I faintly heard Tyler mutter, "Well, that's that one thing we disagree on." His phone buzzed then. Tyler flipped it open and read quietly. "Ethan says that Psycho isn't at the skatepark and none of the junkies there had seen him that night." I nodded, that left his old house, our destination, and Kletka.

Or anywhere else for that matter, since no one could really be completely sure about the thoughts that go on in Psycho's mind. He could take her out to the middle of the forest for all we know.

It was taking forever just to get out to the address. I had been out on these roads plenty of times before with my Grandpa. He took me here to pick the wild berries that litter the bushes almost all year round. A different type of berry for every season. But I haven't been since his death.

Little did I know when I was younger that this was where my future stalker resided.

We pulled up next to the mailbox and driveway of the address Jackson had given me. I cut the engine and turned to look at Tyler. He gave me a strange, questioning glance. So, I took the time to explain my plan to him.

"We should walk up there. In the case that Psycho is here, it is best to arrive in surprise then to barrel up there in my loud-ass pick-up truck and practically announce our entrance," I said quietly.

Tyler sighed and leaned over, capturing my lips with his. I closed my eyes and kissed him back, leaning closer to wrap my arms lightly around his neck. Tyler pulled me closer, deepening the kiss heavily. It was more of a desperate hungry kiss, not like the passionate, loving, light or even jealous kisses we had shared before. It seemed like one of those 'last resort' type of things.

Eventually, after a few minutes, we had to pull apart and tend to the more pressing matters at hand. I looked to the middle seat where the ominous black plastic case sat. I bit my lip before unclipping the locks and gently lifting the gun from its foam resting place. Checking the safety, I stuck the gun in the back waistband of my pants, hidden beneath my hoodie like I had seen all those people do in the movies.

Tyler and I climbed from the truck and began up the gravel driveway that creepily reminded me of my own. However, this one wasn't as long, and it led to a completely different style of house.

The house looming overhead was like one out of a horror flick. The siding was broken down and painted in chipped, dusty white. The windows were mostly cracked and/or partially shattered. There were creaky steps leading to a porch and surprisingly sturdy door. I walked up the steps first, showing Tyler where to carefully place his feet as to not cause the floorboards to creak.

I sneaked to the door, peaking in the window. The house was almost completely dark inside. I nodded to Tyler, kind of feeling like a secret agent. The thought made me smile, but I quickly shook it away, being in such a serious moment.

I pulled the door open, peeking around it into the house. Still no activity of any sort. Maybe Psycho wasn't here. I nodded again at Tyler and continued in, standing up straight. Looking around the house from the foyer, I noticed that directly in front of me was a staircase. To the left of it was the kitchen and the living room a little ways past that. To the right was a simple door that nearly blended into the wall.

"Come on," I mouthed to Tyler, taking his hand in mine and walking towards the kitchen. Creeping in together, nothing seemed all that out of the ordinary. Tyler tugged on my arm and pointed at something. I followed his gaze and found a knife set holder, completely empty.

"Shit," he whispered. I shook my head, trying to clear it from all the negative thoughts. Maybe the house had been broken into the the knives, stolen. In times likes these, it was best to stay as optimistic as possible. Even if I'm not usually an optimistic person.

From there, we continued through the house, searching every possible place in both the upstairs and main level. Finally, Tyler and I returned to the foyer, sitting on the steps. "We haven't searched there yet," Tyler muttered quietly, pointing at the door from earlier on the opposite side of the entry way.

"It's probably just a closet or something," I stated, whipping out my phone. "Let's face it. He's not here. And I bet he's not at Kletka either. It wouldn't have taken this long to search that place, and Kris nor Trent have texted me yet." I sighed, feeling the tears starting to threaten my eyes. What if Smokey was already dead? The thought struck me hard, and so I jumped up immediately.

"Let's check it, just in case," I whispered. Tyler stood up with me, searching my eyes. I bit my lip and turned away from him. Crossing the short distance to the door, I rested my hand lightly on the doorknob. I froze momentarily before yanking the door open with an angry force.

I was wrong.

The door revealed a staircase, probably leading to the basement. All I could see was the wall and the turn in the stairs below. The lights had been turned on, with an elegant old-timey lamp about every sixth stair.

I drew the gun and turned to Tyler. "I want you to go back to the car. This won't be safe," I stated as serious as I could. Tyler watched me for a moment, before something sparkled in his eyes and he chuckled.

"You know, I'm the boyfriend here. I'm supposed to be protecting you. So, as far as I'm concerned, I can deal," he spoke with a confident grin lighting up his face. I smiled back out of habit and nodded. Tyler pecked me on the cheek. I turned to face the staircase again, drawing the gun from the back waistband of my jeans. Raising the gun, I descended the stairs with Tyler at my back.

I noticed that my sight began to dim and the temperature dropped the further we continued down the stairs. At the base, it was nearly pitch black and goosebumps were rising on my arms at the coolness of the air. I reached out blindly with my left hand, still pointing the gun with my right, to feel for a light switch.

Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed my wrist and I was yanked forward before being thrust against the wall with harsh force. The gun flew from my hand, clattering across the floor to who knows where. I heard Tyler shout, a metallic ring then a heavy object falling and a groan. The lights flashed on like spotlights, only lighting me and the opposite wall. What I saw shocked me.

Smokey was at one corner, out cold and bloody. Ethan was next to her, bound and a little beat up, but overall conscious and anxious. Next came Trent, collapsed on the floor with blood crusting a wound to the arm. He was unconscious and his face, ashen. Kris and Alex were leaning against the wall, bounded wrists and ankles and muted mouths covered in duck tape. But they had strong, defiant expressions that gave me some sort of relief. And finally came Tyler, who I thought I would be able to protect and he wanted to protect me. He had a shallow bloody gash about his left eyebrow where he had apparently been hit over the head. I heard him groan as he tried to sit up, fighting against his new rope-bound wrists.

I gasped, sliding to the floor as no one was around me anymore. I blinked harshly a few times, willing it all to be a dream. I heard a single set of footsteps approaching me, and I expected what I saw next: Psycho's maniacally grinning face, staring tauntingly down at me.

"Why hello, McCartney dear. I didn't expect to see you here so soon."