by Liahona West
“But I did everything to save him.” Joy stood up but struggled to gain her balance. Her voice grew louder. “Wouldn’t you have moved heaven and earth to have your sister back? To save her from death?”
Through gritted teeth, Eloise growled out her words, finding the strength that hadn’t been in her before. “Don’t you dare talk about my sister! Her death should have never happened. It destroyed me.”
“But you are stronger for it.”
Eloise laughed in disbelief. Joy had absolutely no understanding of trauma; how it burrowed itself into the victim like a tick and sucked a person dry. Eloise couldn’t stop her body from shaking. “I am not stronger because of my sister’s death. I am destroyed. Annihilated. My mind is at war because of those men’s actions. None of what I witnessed has changed me for the better.” Eloise paused, her breath hitching and painful as she exhaled. “I decide my fate. I am strong in spite of my trauma. And I will never give it, or you, the satisfaction of being responsible for making me who I am today. Stronger? What an idiotic idea.”
Right then, Joy seemed to give up completely. Her shoulders fell, her head drooped, she put her head in her hands. The scientist melted away and left only the mother. “What am I going to do now? The only thing I’ve ever wanted for you is to live. I realize all I had to do was love you more and because of me,” Joy hiccupped as she continued to crumble in on herself, “you lost so much. I spent your entire childhood chasing after something you never even wanted. If I’d only asked…” Joy’s shoulders began shaking. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”
Seth knelt down in front of his mom, hugged her for a long time, then walked away. He never looked back or flinched, like Eloise did, when Joy screamed, unearthly and heart-shattering. Joy’s employees followed and one of them locked the door behind them. She would be contained. Whether or not she jumped off the balcony was her choice.
“What now?” Luke asked when they were all outside.
“I, for one,” Sibyl raised her finger, “am going to go release my emotional tension through crying. Who’s with me?”
Everyone laughed. Eloise inhaled and exhaled, the action cleansing. “I just want to go home.” Then she turned to Seth. “Wanna meet Mason and Soora?”
Seth’s face lit up. “I’d like that.”
EPILOGUE
Cool, autumn wind caressed her face as she stood in front of the Compound. She watched the workers mull about, barking commands to each other as they cleared debris to begin the underground refrigeration system. The air blew through her damp hair, carrying the biting scent of impending Fall. Leaves clung to the branches, a bright bouquet, albeit sparse, of yellow, red, and orange.
Eloise absent-mindedly scrubbed her choppy, short, and wet hair, smiling. The sacrifice of hair to the river had been symbolic, a releasing of an insecurity caused by her scar. She kept her hair long for years, using it to hide the imperfection on her face. No more. The entire world could see it. The best part was the air against her neck.
Life at the Compound was over for her, and even though she still lived close, she and Bannack had begun their own happiness, away from the pain of Joy’s looming shadow. They were living their way. Safe. Free.
Seth was enjoying his own freedoms, as well, and Eloise smiled as she remembered his parting gift, a crown of daisies, before leaving to travel. He promised to send letters once in a while to inform her about his changing condition after Eloise donated her blood, nanites included, what life was like being independent, and if he still struggled with his asthma and balance, leftover symptoms of his disease. Bannack had made him a new cane before he left out of beautiful dark wood so he could walk.
Kendal’s report on Joy came a few days later. The scientist travelled into the forest, lost and confused. When Cassius caught sight of her, Kendal hadn’t stopped him from charging after Joy. In returning to her cabin and discovering the gun – a single bullet loaded into it – missing, she heard a shot go off. Cassius had returned with the gun, blood on his hands and tears in his eyes. Joy wasn’t heard from again.
Gravel crunched as Eloise turned away from the building. She paused, her eyes watering in response to the relentless wind, and stared at a small cabin, built with love by Mason, Bannack, Luke, and several others. It sat against the forest line, inviting her in from the heat.
For months after their fight at Joy’s facility, she and Henry worked together to help Joy’s victims. They restored their memories, using Eloise’s blood mixed with the nanites, beginning with Mason. It was hard work and Eloise struggled to keep up some days, but soon the last victim left the Compound.
She smiled when she opened the front door. This was her new home, and she adored every surface. From the bald cat lying on the bed, to the man carving the last remaining holes in his djembe drum, deer hide top and ropes on the table beside him. She loved the way his hands moved with delicate precision, thoroughly invested in the project.
Her eyes flicked to the akrafena hung on the wall above their bed. Sunlight touched the metal, making it gleam. He no longer needed the proud sword, so he kept it where he could remember his family always.
“What do you think?”
Bannack jumped, his tools clattering to the floor. She laughed at his surprise.
He stood and ran her short hair through his fingers. “It looks like you cut it with a knife.”
Eloise punched him in the chest. He chuckled, warm and deep, and feigned injury.
“You have wounded me, my angel.” Bannack laid on the ground, his knees bent and held his chest, blubbering. “I may die. Do not forget me.”
She gave in to his childish jesting and knelt at his feet. “What can I do to save you?”
He opened one of his closed eyes and peered at her, whispering, “You are not dramatic enough.”
“Shut up. You’re supposed to be dying.”
In response, he moaned again. “A kiss, from thy fair lips, will wake me from the deep sleep. Quick, Elle! I am slipping.”
She gave him a peck on the cheek.
The groaning was real this time. “Completely unacceptable. You must kiss like this.”
His hands wrapped around her face and pulled her into him. He kissed her. His warm breath cascaded around her skin, heating her cheeks and nose. A little noise escaped from the back of her throat and she leaned in, straddling his body with her arms.
“Akoma,” Bannack whispered, smiling as he nuzzled into her neck.
They stood, and he stumbled back, then collided into the small table. Wildflowers and water toppled from the overturned vase which made Bali yowl and scramble away.
“Oh, no!” Bannack half-whispered, his voice husky from the kiss.
“No, Bo. It’s okay. No—Ow! You dork.”
Eloise tried to stop him from picking up the flowers while at the same time he leaned forward and stepped right on her toes.
“Here. Let me fix that for you.”
Grunting, Bannack lifted Eloise from the floor. His movements were choppy and slow, as if he struggled to get good footing, and Eloise laughed. She jostled in his arms and her shoulder blades hit the wall. A frustrated groan came from Bannack, and Eloise laughed harder.
“Am I too heavy for you?”
“Stop it,” Bannack smiled down at Eloise, his blue eyes sparkling with play. “I am old.”
“You are not, liar!” Eloise’s laugh radiated the room.
Bannack kissed her arm wrapped around his neck, then much more gracefully than before, carried Eloise to the bed and nestled in beside her.
They laid there, watching the clouds pass over their cabin through the skylight, and pointing out the shapes they saw there.
“How are we going to have a normal life after what happened?” Eloise asked. She snuggled her body into his and released a deep sigh.
“Mmm.” Bannack pressed his lips to her head. “How do you mean?”
“Before, we were fighting for our lives. Now…” Eloi
se wrapped her fingers around Bannack’s dark forearm. “It all feels so…normal. I’m not sure if I know how to do normal.”
“One day at a time, akoma mu tɔfe. Some days will be hard, but others will be glorious and it will all be worth it.”
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This book has been the ride of a lifetime for me. It all began when I was in high school, rapidly typing a half-baked story onto an outdated Word program on the old computer. Back then, Eloise was Sophie and Bannack had an older step-sister who rode horses. I spent ten years on that story, trying to figure out how a character (Eloise) could be so dang difficult to nail.
It wasn’t until I scrapped that old manuscript three years ago – called The Dovetail Effect – that I finally learned why I was having a hard time with Eloise: she suffers from PTSD. That shot me down a rabbit hole of wonder and I learned so much about mental health, trauma, and what healing looks like. What began as a high-school romance evolved into a beautiful commentary on mental health, trauma, and toxic masculinity. I’ve always been a huge supporter of the idea that the characters of a novel dictate how their story is told, and because of that, I was able to witness something beautiful unfold.
No novel is without the people behind it. First, I’d like to thank my wonderful husband, who is my biggest cheerleader. He has taken everything in stride. All the nights where he’s gone to bed alone as I finished up a chapter. Conversations as I employed his help in getting my character out of a sticky situation. Listening to my book excerpts. Ever since I shared that early draft of high school aged Eloise and Bannack before we were engaged, he’s been there, pushing me forward and cheering me on. Thank you for being there for me.
Second, I’d like to thank all the amazing beta and sensitivity readers who shared their wisdom, criticism, and excitement. This book is amazing because of you!
Third, I cannot forget Riley (editor) or Danielle (cover artist). You both helped my book become what it is today and were so patient as I fumbled through trying to give voice to my vision and erasing all those spaces between all those ellipses. Both of you did such an incredible job and now I have a shiny book to show everyone! I’m beyond grateful.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Liahona West spent her entire teenage years glued to a book. Whether it was escaping the dreaded high school lunch room or hiding under the covers at 2:00 AM, ruining her eyes, to finish “one more chapter” five times in a row, Liahona never went without literature. Now a mother and fueled by her unwillingness to sleep, she is bringing her characters to life and fulfilling a lifelong dream of becoming a published author.
When Liahona isn’t writing in every location possible, she is chasing her three boys, breaking up fights, and eating their leftovers in their home in the Pacific Northwest.
Metallic Heart is her debut novel.
