Black Ice Page 8

  Dean doesn’t say it, but I know he feels like he owes it to my mother to be there for me. It’s caused fights between him and his girls. I know my mom wouldn’t want him to ruin his marriage or his family on my account. It’s not his fault that my father left. It’s not his fault that my mother got sick.

  “I’m good. You worry too much.”

  “I’m going to worry because I care. You seem different…is it Meshkov? Because if his being here is an issue, you can tell me.”

  I bite my tongue. Not wanting to bring myself to talk about the torment I’ve been enduring at the hands of his daughter.

  “He’s just really annoying.”

  “Right.” He replies quietly.

  The gears start churning and I can practically hear them. The car comes to a full stop in front of my apartment building. Like usual I reach into the backseat and grab my duffel bag. Dean stops me short of opening the passenger door.

  “Sage?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I saw the way the two of you skated together tonight.”

  I freeze with my hand clutching the door. “You did?”

  “Yes. I think you need to be careful with him.”

  “Why?”

  I’m as uncomfortable as he looks, slightly sweating at the brow and combing his hands through his salt and pepper hair. This couldn’t be more awkward. Has Auntie Carrie put him up to this? Checking to see if there is more to Yuri and I then I’ve let on. After tonight she’s probably looking for leverage. Emotional blackmail is her thing. I wouldn’t put it past her to use my feelings for Yuri against me or him. Dean may not know it, but he’s another pawn in Auntie Carrie show. We all are.

  “Because he’s always had this affect on you. Like…”

  “Mind control?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Dean, I’m twenty-three now. He’s twenty-seven. I’m not a kid anymore.”

  “I know. But you love hard. And I want you to be careful.”

  “He’s just another skater.”

  “I know that. But sometimes things happen. No one plans for them. They just happen and they’re beyond our control. So…just be careful.”

  I give Dean a smile. “I will.”

  “Yup, I know you will.”

  I think that’s the extent of the awkward moments with Dean show when I step out of the car. But before the door slams, he stops me again.

  “Sage?”

  “Yeah?” I huff slinging my bag over my shoulder.

  “I wish things were different. I wish you’d come back to the house.”

  “You know I can’t. They all hate me. I take up enough of your time Dean. Trust me you don’t need me living there.”

  Dean sighs and focuses on the long stretch of road a head of him. He lets out a deep sigh before wiping off his glasses and rubbing his wet eyes.

  “Your Mom…she was special. When she died, she wanted me to take care of you. I’m sorry I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

  Mom must have known that Auntie Carrie would make a terrible guardian. That’s why she asked Dean to be there for me. We tried it that way for a long time. It just didn’t work. It’s not his fault. He shouldn’t feel guilty.

  “Dean, you’ve done enough for me. I’m not your kid. Not your problem.”

  He nods and wipes the tears suddenly coming down his chin.

  “You look just like her. Sometimes it makes me think she’s still here.”

  I shuffle my feet back and forth, feeling my palm squeeze the door handle. Not now. I don’t want to do this now. I don’t want to talk about the sad stuff. Just the good things. And I don’t want Dean to feel like he has to be there for me any more than he already has.

  “How about I come over for dinner next week? We can go over final choreography and notes for regionals.”

  “That’s perfect!” Dean grins at me.

  I smile back. “I love you. Goodnight.”

  “I love you too. Get in there. Don’t stay up too late. You have practice bright and early.”

  I wave goodbye on my way into the apartment building. The only elevator is stuck, so I have to climb six flights of stairs on my already sore knees. I’ve got nothing left when I make it to my apartment. Down the hall I see a poster hanging from my door. My heart sinks.

  Olympic Slut, is written across it in red. Beneath the words, is a picture of me in my bra and panties. It looks like it was taken in the locker room at the arena. How is anyone’s guess. I haven’t been home since this morning.

  “Everything alright, sweetie?” My neighbor Mrs. Charleston says suddenly appearing over my shoulder.

  I jump and shield the older woman from the poster, tearing it down and racing into my apartment. I’m too embarrassed to look back. In my apartment, I collapse to the floor ripping the poster board apart. Once Kacee gets here, we’ll laugh and drink and I don’t have to think about who did this or why.

  Chapter 10

  Yuri

  I broke my ankle snowboarding with friends in Russia. It caused me to miss an entire skating season. I healed quickly but in the process developed an addiction to the pain medication. For a year and a half, I battled it in silence. Rumors made their way around the figure skating circuit. Most of them were true. I’d lost weight and became someone I barely recognized. The hardest part of it all, was I didn’t see Sage that year. I took her calls when I wasn’t high and rushed her off the phone so that I could be.

  When our birthday had come and gone and I’d forgotten to call her until a week later, she was crushed. I vowed then that my addiction would never hurt her again. I checked into a rehab facility and I got help. It was hard. I hated myself most days I was there. But my family and friends rallied around me and I had Sage too. She was only sixteen at the time. So, I held back the bad stuff from her. I came out of it on the other side. I got my life back and I got my friendship with Sage back.

  As I pull into her apartment complex, I note that we face a different but similar battle. Addiction and depression are both battles with yourself. She’s struggling now, but it’s because no one around her has gotten her the help that she needs. They keep telling her that nothing is wrong; they make her believe it. But it’s a lie. Whatever it takes, I am going to help her win the battle.

  Yuri, are we always going to be friends? I can hear her words as if she is whispering them into my ear the same way she’d done on her birthday. What had I told her then?

  We’ll always be friends. I’ll always be there for you.

  I wasn’t there. In that hotel room, I left her behind. So I have to take these chances now to be better than I was before.

  Sage

  Girl time with Kacee is canceled. She has homework to do and plans to video chat with her boyfriend. That leaves me alone in my tiny apartment and I don’t mind. The lights are low. My phone is set to do not disturb. Even the television is on but muted to silence. I don’t want to hear anything or anyone.

  Tonight, I want to be left alone. The fog has set in my head and the only thing that I can do now is wait for my escape. Sleep hasn’t been sleep in a long time. For the past few months it’s been a door. The only door out of this black hole. My quiet sanctuary. But sometimes even it isn’t enough. I’m scared tonight it won’t be. That’s because the pressure in my chest is building. It’s traveling up my throat and it’s beginning to suffocate me.

  The tears come as I turn the blade in my palm. It feels like I’m grieving but no one has died. I squeeze my eyes close when the dark voice in my head starts up. My internal dialogue is a broken record that plays my pain on an endless loop.

  I am everyone’s burden. That’s why I should be alone. I’m bad. I have to let the bad out. Let it out. Let it out. Let it out. Let the bad out.

  Silence settles in as the red drips out along my wrist. My mind may be a mess but I know one thing; I don’t want to die here. The cut won’t cause me to bleed out. Yet, it’s just enough to give me a release. Yes, there is pain. But for a little while, the pain
on the outside is greater than the chronic ache I have on the inside.

  I listen for the voice and my brain feeds back pure, unfiltered silence. For now, I’ve managed to mute the voice in my head. A smile dances across my lips. My eyes flutter close, and I embrace this moment. But before I can bask in it for too long, my heart plummets down my chest. Three thunderous knocks hit my front door. My entire body goes into shock and in an instant, I’m falling.

  The trouble with this sort of high, is it doesn’t last long. By the time I cover my wrist with the towel on the coffee table, I’m feeling the low. The grief, guilt and shame, all hit me like a bullet to the back. My door takes another round of booming blows and I leap off the couch in a panic.

  “Open the door, Sage.” A sharp and raw Russian voice demands. “Right now.”

  Yuri

  “Yuri?”

  Sage says my name through the wooden door as the light from the peep hole turns dark.

  “W-what are you doing here?”

  I have both hands pressed against the door. My body shakes. The drive here was erratic and dangerous, but I didn’t care. She is more important to me than my own safety. And I need to know that she is safe. That she isn’t harming herself again.

  “We need to talk.”

  “About what?” her muffled voice asks innocently.

  She sounds further away. Like she has stepped away from the door. The light shinning through the peephole confirms my theory. She’s stalling and I’m not playing this game.

  “Open the door, Sage.”

  “Yeah. J-just a minute. I need to get something on.”

  My hands clench into fists. She’s lying. And she’s lying to me. What had we swore to one another at her first showing at Regionals. No secrets. No lies between us. Because we were more than friends. We were like family. And you don’t lie to family. They can see right through them anyway.

  “Sage, open the goddamn d—”

  “Hi.” She huffs pulling the door open, just enough to poke her head and shoulders out. “Is there a reason you’re going all big bad wolf on my door? I have neighbors you know.”

  She looks around me, as much as she can without opening the door even an inch more. But the terribly lit hallway is only occupied by me. No one else has decided to check on the commotion.

  “Let me in.” I assert, pushing on the door above her head.

  “Well now’s not really a good time—and you just barge right in, great.” She replies when I brush past her stiffly. “So much for an invitation. But please come right in, Yuri.”

  “Why don’t you answer phone?”

  “It was on silent. I didn’t even know it was—hey! Stop that!”

  I hurry over the semi-lit room, tearing books from shelves and emptying a coffee can she uses to hold pens and pencils. I drove all the way here but I haven’t mustered up the words required to confront her. I need the evidence. Sage can’t lie if I catch her with the smoking gun. But the truth is, nothing catches my eye or immediately sets off alarms. I turn to go to her bathroom and she’s right there.

  “Yuri, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  I can’t answer that question. My lips won’t form the words. And I can’t look at her, so I push through her to the bathroom and rummage through her medicine cabinet.

  “I was knocking for a long time. Why don’t you come to door right away?”

  “Jesus,” she snickers. “I was getting some clothes on. I wasn’t exactly expecting you.”

  I slam the medicine cabinet shut and the entire thing shakes like it might fall to the ground. Her lying to me is only fueling my rage. When I snatch the drawer open, I pull it all the way out and empty it’s contents in the sink.

  Sage pushes me. “Stop that!”

  I sift through the sink and find a new razor. I look up into her paling face. Her eyes give her away as they fill with tears. I turn away and find another sitting on the edge of her tub. I go for it as well, inspecting every detail of it. But like the other, it’s intact.

  “You have no right…”

  “I have every right!”

  “No, you don’t.” She tears the razors from my hands. “Get out! Get out! Get the fuck out of here!!”

  I ignore her piling her fist into my shoulder and continue emptying out the vanity drawers. Without a doubt it’s here. The proof that’s she’s in pain, that she is hurting herself is here. I just have to find it.

  “I’ll call the police. Y-you can’t do this.”

  “Call them.”

  “What do you want from me, Yuri? I’m not doing drugs. I’m not an alcoholic. I’m not hurting anyone. Why are you doing this?”

  Why was I here? Why was I doing this? Because I love her. I’ve hurled those words at her before, but they were not said the way they were meant. The timing has never been right. The circumstances never perfect. That’s been mostly my fault. But I’m here for her and I don’t need a bloody blade to tell me that she’s harming herself again. The proof is beneath that peach robe, she’s holding on to for dear life. I know that. Still there is a profound difference in knowing something and seeing it with your own eyes.

  I stop rummaging through the bathroom drawer and peer down at her. Sage stops short of the tile and takes a step back on to the carpet hugging her body.

  She holds her arm to her chest and looks away. “What?”

  I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to see her forearm cut, bruised and bleeding. I wasn’t the first time. I was angry at her. So pissed at the world and everything that moved in it, that it made me draw away. I left Sage when she needed me. When that realization hit, it was too late. The damage was done. She couldn’t look at me the same. Nor I her. But things are different now. They have to be.

  “Take off the robe.”

  “No.”

  “Show me your arms, right now.”

  Her puffy eyes widen in shock. She backs further onto the carpet and screams as I reach for her. I narrowly capture the top of the robe and pull it down her arm. Sage thrusts her palms into my chest and we struggle in the hallway. I can hear her yelling for me to stop. I can even feel her fist colliding with my shoulders, neck and face. But it’s not enough to stop me as I lift her off the ground.

  She shouts in my arms. “I’m okay! Don’t! I’m okay!”

  “Sage you are not okay.”

  “Please! Please!”

  I bear hug her into submission and she digs her nails down my arm. The searing pain catches me off guard. Still I squeeze her to me with my arms around her waist as she tosses her head to my shoulder, screaming out her defeat.

  “I’m alright! I swear!” She sobs weakly. “I swear! Yuri, I swear!!”

  Hearing her tearful pleas rips a hole through my gut. That’s what makes me let her go and watch as she flings herself against the opposite wall, with her face buried in her palms and pieces of the peach robe at our feet.

  I turn away ashamed. I want so badly to punch my fist through the wall but I’ve fucked up enough. Yuri the terrible. I’ve proven myself to be that to her but I’ve also shown her that I can be better than that. For Sage I can be anything.

  “Sage,” my voice cracks. “If you’re hurting yourself again, I need to know.”

  Her sniffling as she slides to the ground is the only response I get. I turn back to her. Her knees are drawn to her chin and her face is buried into them. I go to her and kneel in front of her. My palm strokes her hair back soothingly.

  “Look at me. Please.”

  She hesitates before gradually meeting my gaze.

  “You are with me wherever I go. Always have been.”

  Sage tilts her head at my peculiar statement. Fresh tears fill the rim of her eyes. My fingers work the buttons of my shirt quickly and expose the top of my chest. I pull the material away so that the inked image is fully clear to her. Directly over my heart is a blackbird. It’s wings spread in mid-flight with light brown eyes, just like the woman it was made for.

  Recognitio
n sets in as Sage reaches up and runs her fingers over the soaring image. She drew this for me on our birthday. A week later I had it tattooed on my chest. She never knew that until now. The tears she was holding on to escape down her cheeks as her fingers explode. Her outstretched arm reveals faint scars. We see it together. Then she looks up at me and my heart responds, thumping hard against my chest.

  “You’re with me. Let me be with you…please.”

  I take her by the arm. A small breathless whisper escapes her parted lips. Panic lights her eyes. Still I peel the robe down. The more skin I expose, the more she trembles. I’m not going to stop. I peel more away, until I’ve reached her elbow and her soft whimpers roll into deep sobs.

  “I’m sorry.” She mumbles.

  I can’t stop now. I need to know. And I need to see it for myself. If Sage is suffering then, I’ll help her. Gently, I fully take her arm out of the sleeve. My stomach lurches forward at the sight of dark horizontal lines seared across her otherwise perfect skin. Some are still fresh and healing slowly. One in particular has recently been done. My jaw tightens in anger.

  “Who hurt you, little bird?”

  Her palms fly to her face. She cries into them uncontrollably right before driving a dagger into my heart with her next words.

  “I did.”

  My blood boils, scorching me from the inside out. I’m so angry. I want to punish whoever did this to her. No, not punish. Destroy. But what do you do when the person hurting the one you love, is the person you love? How do you reconcile that? I stare down at her and I don’t have an answer.

  “I’m sorry.” She murmurs from the inside of her hands.

  I have no real words. Anything I say now won’t make sense to her or me. The only thing I can do is gather her into my arms.

  “Yuri, I’m so sorry.”

  “I know.” I kiss the top of her head. “I know.”

  “I’ll stop, I swear.”

  “Sage—”

  “I just have to—I mean—I-I-I”

  I take the sides of her face and press my forehead to hers. “Shhh.”