Hell Without You

Chapter 10

9 Years Ago

A breeze carried the sound of metal striking metal to Clementine. The hard, rhythmic pounding wasn't the usual sort of noise that came from under the maple tree, Donovan's makeshift garage. In fact, he usually worked in silence. Today, something was different, and though she didn't know what, a prickling sensation swept down her spine as she toed the line between the road's paved shoulder and the tall grass at its edge, the stalks rustling against the sides of her shoes.

She hadn't been able to call beforehand to let Donovan know she was coming. His mom had neglected the phone bill again and service to their trailer had been shut off. It happened all the time, and she'd known he'd be happy to see her, with or without notice.

Except, when she finally came close enough to see him beneath the maple, he didn't look happy at all.

With a wrench in hand, he was responsible for the noise. As she stood frozen in place, watching, he systematically beat the shit out of an old Ford Taurus. Over and over, he dealt the body hard blows, denting the metal and cracking the faded red paint. The doors, the roof, the trunk lid – he distributed the damage evenly. Even from a distance, she could see the results – he'd given the car a pockmarked appearance that was obviously irreparable. And he wasn't done. Raising one arm high, he lifted the wrench above his head...

And brought it crashing down on the windshield. Cracks spread through its surface like spider legs, long and thin. Three blows and it shattered, raining crumbled glass on the hood and interior of the car. In the fall sunshine, the countless pieces sparkled, rainbow-like.

So did the glass from each window – he broke every one. The headlights were next, then the taillights. She watched, entranced, until he withdrew a knife from his pocket.

Her stomach clenched up at the sight of the weapon, the open blade. As he slashed one of the front tires, she finally continued toward him.

"Donovan?" He'd flattened two by the time she came close.

He looked up, eyes dark and narrowed. "Clementine?"

He paused for all of two seconds before slashing the back two tires, then stood, tucking his knife away.

"What did you do?" She stared at the spectacularly ruined car, unable to look away. It had Pennsylvania tags and an expired Willow Heights town sticker – it belonged to somebody. Somebody local.

"Let's go for a ride." He tipped his head toward his dirt bike, which waited a few yards away.

"Whose car is this?"

"Tell you at the quarry. Come on." He reached for one of her hands and she responded instinctively, curling her fingers around his, returning his touch. Tiny pieces of auto glass scratched her skin before falling to the ground.

"Your hand..." His knuckles were faintly bloody.

He never replied.

They were on the bike within seconds, then on the road, speeding away, leaving Shady Side and the violated Taurus behind.

The quarry was abandoned, dark water and exposed rock surrounded by a blaze of autumn foliage, peaceful despite the roar of the bike's engine. Donovan parked at the bottom, where the earth was flat on one side of the lake. They hiked up a hill to the cliff on the other side, settling at the top where they could look down on it all.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Clementine asked, unable to pay much attention to the scenery when Donovan drew her eye. His full lips were compressed into a thinner, harder line than usual, and there was a distinct heaviness in his gaze, even when he looked at her. It didn't make him any less handsome, but it made her heart ache to see him so upset. To have done what he had to the car... Something had to have gone horribly wrong.