Metallic Heart

by Liahona West

  Glistening eyes peered up at him. After a few moments, Eloise said, “Thank you for helping me, but it may not have been enough. I feel like there is a massive hole in my body I can never fill because nothing good will come out of this entire, messed up situation. Either Seth will die, or I will. I can’t see another way around it.”

  “There must be a way,” Bannack whispered.

  She looked at her hands.

  The downward angled perspective showed off Eloise’s high cheekbones, something Bannack had never truly noticed until then, and he inspected them for a few moments. Deep golden freckles covered the surface of her skin, some distorted by the curve of her facial structure. Her lashes were long, dark, and wet.

  You’re stunning.

  It’s what he wanted to say but lacked the courage to do so. His feelings still felt so new and raw, he didn’t know what to do with them yet.

  Tears created wet lines down Eloise’s cheeks when she glanced up. A quiet gasp stuck in his throat. The woman’s eyes shone bright, mostly from her crying, and they were brilliant. Bright and golden.

  Bannack leaned forward and wiped away Eloise’s tears.

  “Do you know of the Japanese tradition of Kintsugi?” Bannack asked. Eloise shook her head. “When a ceramic plate or bowl is broken, they make it whole with beautiful ribbons of gold between the pieces. They recognize the beauty of shattered things. You may be broken, as you say, but if you allow yourself to heal, your soul will glisten so brightly, it will rival the sun.”

  Moments like this, with her, are eternal.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Eloise

  A twinkling glass wind chime rotated outside the window, and she watched the blue and yellow colors dance across the floor in front of her. She reached up and pressed the place where Bannack’s hand used to be. His gentle caress lit her skin on fire. His quiet and intense whisper slid across her body, turning every bit of it to mush. The image of his face so close to her own, shining blue eyes making her nerves crackle and splinter, was enough for Eloise to melt where she sat. She felt like the negative side of a magnet, and he the positive, pulled by a force out of their control and one they could not sever.

  Sitting near Bannack, alone, heightened her awareness of him. His every deep breath, the shifting of his weight from one leg to the other, and the click of his tongue. She remembered he always clicked whenever he wasn’t sure what to do. She turned to him.

  “I should…really go wash this.” Eloise lifted a handful of her hair. Her scalp itched from the dried mud to be tolerable anymore.

  She stood, holding her bandaged hand to her chest. It throbbed in time with her heartbeat and she kept it as still as she could or else it would explode with pain.

  It’s been half a day and the nanites still haven’t healed me.

  Bannack stepped forward. She held her good hand up, coming in contact with his chest.

  “No.” Eloise swallowed and jerked her hand away. “I’m fully capable of doing it by myself, thank you very much. You just sit over there and…give the dog a rub. Something.”

  His frustration emerged in a sigh, and Bannack sat.

  Eloise shuffled through Luke’s chests and shelves. She rifled through blankets, clothes, and bottles of various liquids. She grumbled to herself in the loft area where Luke slept.

  “You’ve seen that man’s luscious locks, right? Where the heck does he keep the soap?”

  Stifling a laugh, Bannack called up to Eloise. “He does not keep soap.”

  Bannack held up a bottle of rum.

  “You’re kidding…”

  Bannack shook his head.

  “No wonder he’s so sweet.”

  Eloise took the bottle from Bannack, quickly scrunched her nose to tease, and snatched a holey towel from a shelf. She knelt in front of a metal trough filled with fresh water and threw her hair over her head.

  She didn’t get far before the muscle spasm built in her back. At first, Eloise managed it well. Then her back clenched, along with the back of her thighs and her shoulders. Her arms weakened, struggling to get past the first step of pouring the water over her hair.

  Eloise dropped her hands. “Dammit.”

  Bannack glided to her side with amazing speed. “Hey.” His hand wrapped around her cheek, his lower two fingers resting on her neck.

  Eyes full of tears, Eloise turned to him. “I can’t even wash my own hair.”

  “Your body needs time to heal.”

  She shoved his hand away then stood, coughing. “Stop trying to make me feel better, Bo.”

  Bannack’s hand appeared on her hip. “Wait. Let me do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Wash your hair.”

  She scooted away. “I-I think I can still do it. I just need some more time.”

  “Okay.”

  Eloise leaned over the water again, clenching her teeth so hard they ached when her weakened body spasmed. A groan rolled out of her as pain tightened her muscles and her hands shot out to steady her body.

  “I can help. Please.”

  Bannack was beside her. His warmth radiated through her body, and he hooked a long arm around her waist, anchoring her. His chest rose and fell, waiting for her response. She looked over her shoulder and followed the line of his collarbone down to his hands, knowing that if she agreed, those hands would be on her in a way she was not prepared for. She desperately wanted them on her. Even if it was just her head.

  “Okay.”

  Grabbing a worn stool for Eloise to sit on, Bannack leaned her back and supported her with his thigh. He filled a metal cup with water and poured it over her scalp. She gasped quietly as he began massaging the dirt from her hair, his touch coercing goosebumps to her arms and shoulders.

  She watched him in wonder as he leaned forward, supporting the stool with his narrow hip. The muscles in his forearm contracted and relaxed with every stroke through Eloise’s hair. As he grabbed the rum, his cheek brushed Eloise’s nose. He smelled of the leather from his jacket and the unexpected sweetened herbal scent of lavender. She closed her eyes. When he ran his fingers through her hair, releasing some stubborn tangles, her muscles grew heavy and pliable underneath his fingertips.

  “Is the pressure okay?”

  All Eloise could do was mumble incoherently.

  Bannack wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and lifted her to a seated position. They stayed there, Eloise with her fingers on his stomach and he with her neck in his hands. Vulnerable. Panting. She watched him, the electricity of the moment in the air. He leaned in, his eyes locked on her neck, and came dangerously close to kissing the tender skin. She carefully inhaled as if balancing on a tightrope and if she made one wrong move, inhaled too heavily, she would fall into the abyss.

  Do it. Kiss me. Please.

  Then his head lifted, following the line of her neck to her chin and then her face. Desire sat within his ocean eyes, a vast and bright sea crashing and breaking against the rocks, poised for destruction as well as calm.

  His attention flicked to her hair, attempting to smooth out the last few pieces with his fingers, and the moment broke. Water dripped down her long strands, soaking the front part of her shirt.

  Bannack swore and reached for the towel. Eloise caught his wrist.

  “It’ll dry.”

  With their faces close again, Eloise drank in his entire existence. Drowned in it.

  “You can’t be so close,” whispered Eloise, breathless.

  “I can back away if you like.”

  Eloise shook her head. “It’s not that. I like when you are close.”

  Something devilish flashed in his eyes and he leaned forward, talking in a hushed growl. “How about this?”

  “Closer.”

  “This?”

  Fire burned within her. It ignited her soul. Bannack held her neck in his hands, cradling it as if a newborn babe. He dragged his lips from her neck to her chin, leavin
g a trail of gentle kisses along her scar’s ridges, forcing a noise from deep within her. Every kiss from him was calculated, gentle. Reverent.

  When his hands wrapped around her waist, lifting her body to his, the raw power in his arms made her gasp, breathless. Bannack settled beside her. His kisses threatened to melt her into oblivion.

  “Elle…” his whisper was torture. “If you’ll have me, I’m going to make up for all the years we lost. The ones we should have laughed, cried, and kissed through. I want to make up for all of it.”

  She grabbed his face before he could pull away. His stubble scratched against her palm. Then she kissed him. Those full, soft lips made her heart sing, and she knew, fully and completely, she never wanted to let him go, worried he may float away. The way he consumed her with his arms, sunk his fingers into her hair, and worshipped her with his gaze, was now as familiar to her as breathing.

  “A long time ago,” she said as she fought to catch her breath, “I promised myself and the universe to listen when the time came to chase. I hoped there would be a sign or something that told me to run forward and never look back. Then you crashed into my life. I was expecting someone, but not you. Never you. All of a sudden, right there in front of me, was my answer.”

  Bannack’s eyes flashed with surprise and excitement. He touched her lips with his thumb and kissed her. “God, I love you.” He put his forehead on hers.

  They sat together, running their hands lazily over each other’s arms and legs. When he stood to poke the fire with the poker, she noticed the black tattoos down the back of his arm.

  “What do your tattoos mean?” she asked, and her feet found his. As if on reflex, he wound his ankles with hers.

  “My adinkra are how I strive to live my life. And how I want to be remembered in death.”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  Bannack touched the tattoos from top down. “This one is sankofa, sometimes shown as a bird twisting its head to pluck an egg from its back.” His symbol was a heart with swirls on the bottom and top. “It translates to “return and get it” and means we must learn from the past.” He continued to announce the names of the tattoos and their meaning. “Aya is a fern because it is a hardy plant. It can grow in the most unlikely of places and symbolizes endurance. Akofena, with the two crossing akrafena blades, is a symbol of courage, heroism, and valor. Dwennimmen, the touching ram’s horns, means even the strong must be humble. And Nea Onnim means the continued quest for knowledge and lifelong education. These are how I choose to live my life…or at least attempt to. I’m afraid, in the past few years, I have not done very well.”

  “You’ve been doing your best.” Eloise snuggled in close.

  “Eloise…” A spring in the bed thunked when he rotated to face her. “Can you tell me about your scar?”

  Eloise’s hand went to her face. “I’m not sure you want to hear. About any of it. I don’t know if I’m ready to say.”

  “You do not have to tell me now.”

  “Okay.” Eloise took a deep breath, surprised the memory was harder to think about than she anticipated. “Ada and I were gathering some treats for our girl’s night. We had those a lot. Keep in mind, this was after our parents died, so Mason was a bit more lenient with what we did together, hoping space would help us heal. We went to Newman’s. Two men carrying guns killed everyone in there…including Ada. They did this.” She pointed to the facial scar. “The nanites saved me, but I don’t know why they left a scar instead of healing all the way. I think maybe the injury was too severe.”

  For a long while, Bannack kept quiet, chewing on the inside of his lip. “Why do you help Seth?”

  “He asked me to,” Eloise replied. Her hands twisted together. Her composure threatened to break. “And I’m the only one who can. When my parents destroyed Joy’s facility, the rest of the serum perished, except for mine. If anyone can do anything about his disease, it’s me. Before agreeing to help Joy, I made sure Seth wanted my help. He did.”

  “You have placed a great weight on your shoulders. You do not have to bear it alone.”

  Tears fell down her face. An emotional weight she didn’t realize had been sitting on her chest, lifted from her heart like an air-powered rocket shooting into the sky. She squeezed his wrists, her head low, and wept. Then his thumbs were on her cheeks, wiping away the waterfall from her eyes. As her shoulders shook, he pulled her close and held on, patiently waiting.

  And, just like Bannack predicted, he filled in the cracks with gold.

  ***

  An hour later, Luke, covered in soot, shoved through the door of the cabin. Boatswain jumped at his master’s feet in greeting. A wide smile Luke attempted to hide flashed across his face as the dog used his enormous tongue to lick something from his fingers. Water dripped off him.

  “I found this…rat-t thing.” He pulled off his pack, lifted the top flap, and a feline face, pink-skinned with large black spots and green eyes, poked her head out of the hole. She blinked. Dirt covered her entire body.

  Eloise gasped and gathered Bali up. “Where did you find her?”

  “In the w-forest.” Luke pulled down his cloak to reveal several long, thick, and blood-tinged scratches down the entire length of his neck. “She fell from the sky like some possessed, knife-wielding sugar glider and landed on my shoulders.” A smile crept onto Luke’s lips. “She’s devastatingly ugly. Perhaps we should eat-t her.”

  Rolling her eyes, Eloise placed Bali on a bookshelf. “You’re hilarious.”

  A cool breeze rushed through the open door and curled around Eloise’s arms and neck as Sibyl entered, also covered in soot.

  “That was the hardest thing I have ever done.” Sibyl sucked on a cut by her thumb. “Cows are so much bigger than I imagined.”

  “Sibyl!” Eloise laughed. “You work with horses.”

  She gave Eloise an incredulous look, blinking several times. “Uh…so? Horses are graceful and majestic. Cows are bumbling and awkward.”

  “I happen to like cows,” Bannack added.

  “They stink.”

  Luke snorted. “All animals smell. Just depends on what smell you are willing t-to put up with.” At that, he groaned loudly and stretched. “I’m sleeping in the barn. There’s room here for you three.”

  He snapped his fingers and Boatswain was at his feet.

  “I’m going to go to bed, too.” Sibyl yawned. “I’ll wash up tomorrow when we get to the Compound.”

  ***

  The sunset had long disappeared, yet Eloise remained awake, staring into the night sky through the window in the loft. She fiddled with the end of her hair. Sibyl slept beside her.

  A quick peek over the banister revealed where Bannack slept. A blanket curled around his legs with an orange glow from the dying fire cast across his torso.

  As Eloise watched, her nose in line with the banister railing, Bannack groaned. His hand moved on top of his stomach, and he inhaled sharply. Eloise thought she heard mumbled words but couldn’t quite make them out.

  Occasional twitches and quiet words quickly became jerking movements and yelling.

  Sibyl moaned, then rolled over. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Elle!”

  At Eloise’s name, Sibyl jerked fully awake and Eloise jumped to her feet, gesturing for Sibyl to go back to bed. She stumbled down the stairs, then knelt at his side, placing her hand on his soaked skin.

  “Bannack. Wake up. It’s not real.”

  She shook his shoulders and grabbed his hand, placing it, open palmed, on her face.

  He cried out again, wrenching from her grip to turn on his side. For a moment, he stilled. Then jerked into a sitting position, his back stiff. Eloise gasped and fell on her hind end.

  Bannack’s chest heaved. His eyes glazed over. The anger swirling inside them frightened Eloise.

  “Bo…” she whispered.

  With an angry grunt, he whipped his bod
y toward her voice. Eloise swallowed hard and dodged a lazy swipe of his fist.

  “I cannot find her! I lost her!” Bannack’s trembling voice broke Eloise’s heart asunder. Her eyes moistened, and she inched closer.

  “Who? Who have you lost?”

  “Get away! Do not hurt her! Eloise! You cannot go. You will die. Please help me find her. I will do anything.”

  Nothing made sense. He jumped from word to word in a confused panic. Then he shook his hands, at first, and soon his entire body followed suit. His teeth chattered. Eloise furrowed her brow in confusion. “I have learned my lesson and I will not defy you again. Let me out! You cannot leave me here!”

  He muttered, terrified, in his native language, Twi. His words stuck together as he spat them from his mouth.

  Bannack’s typical composure shattered. In front of her sat a broken man, yet in spite of the darkness of his past, he had become kind and gentle.

  How is that possible?

  “Bannack…wake up. You need to wake up!” Eloise grabbed his fumbling hands and placed them on her chest. “Do you feel me? Do you feel my heart? I am real! Your demons aren’t! Wake up!”

  Keeping his hand on her fluttering heart, she slapped him. He gasped, flinched away and blinked, his dull eyes returning to their vibrant hue within seconds. Bannack fell into her, shuddering. Eloise grunted underneath his weight and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Thank you. Thank you. I am so sorry. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. We’ll get through this together,” she said.

  To feel his strength falter and shake from fear like a mouse confused Eloise. Bannack had braved a lightning storm to make sure she was safe. He played with children simply because he wanted to. She knew he had a warrior’s heart. And yet, he refused to think he possessed one. Why?

  Soon, his shaking calmed, and he released his near crushing grip on her midsection. She inhaled.

  “Sorry,” Bannack apologized again, his head hanging low. Normally, he would have his shoulders back and head high.