11
Ben drags me backward, marching through the snow. He has one arm around my throat and holds his gun against my head with the other. “You made me cut myself,” he groans against my ear, “but I’m not going to lie—I feel like a certified badass. How often does someone get to throw themselves through a window?”
I want to say something, anything. Something sarcastic even if it means a bullet through my brain sooner than later, but his arm is pressed too tight against my throat. All I’m able to muster is a whimper as I claw at his arm trying to breathe.
“Faith!” I hear Noah scream from the patio.
I shift my eyes to him. He aims a gun at us with his target set on Ben.
Ben spins his arm around so that his gun is aimed squarely at Noah. “Don’t come any closer,” Ben warns, while he continues to step backward and onto the frozen surface of the pool. “I’ll kill her.”
“What do I have to lose?” Noah asks through a yell. “You’re going to kill us both anyway, right? That’s what you said.”
“That was the plan,” Ben replies while laughing, “but I’m down to negotiate.”
“Let her go,” Noah commands.
Once we reach the center of the pool, Ben ends his slow retreat and reaffirms his grip on my throat. “It’s not that simple, Noah.”
Noah places his finger against the trigger of the gun. “I’ll make it that simple. You let her go and you can have me.”
I shake my head no and continue to claw at Ben’s arm.
“I’m not afraid of dying, but you leave her out of this!” His voice breaks, showing emotion for the first time since our conversation in the bedroom earlier. He lost everything, and I came back into his life and we saved each other. And now, he’s prepared to lose it all again. “Let her go and this can all end tonight.”
“We have a deal,” Ben says and pulls me closer to him. “How do you want to handle this?”
“Put your gun down,” Noah says.
Ben laughs like a maniac. He might be crazy, but he’s not stupid. “Do you think I’m stup—”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I throw my head to the side as the bullets fly past me.
Then another bang and I fall sideways onto the ice of the pool as Ben begins to drop. His gun goes off, firing straight down and into the ice—breaking it. I try to escape, but I’m not quick enough and fall through the broken ice and into the freezing waters below.
“Faith!” I hear Noah scream.
I throw my arms out and swim for the surface but am met with a thick, layer of ice. I pound against it, trying to hold what little breath I managed to capture as I went under, but it’s running out fast.
The ice is too thick to break with my fists, so I begin to search for where I fell in. Nothing makes sense and I can’t seem to find my way out. Ben’s body sinks beside me and I’ve never been more thankful to see a dead man’s body.
His eyes jolt open and he reaches out for me. I kick my feet and swim back to the top of the pool, kicking him in the process. He fumbles backward and air bubbles slip from his mouth.
Gunfire again. When I look up, there’s a visible hole in the ice. I kick upward and push myself through the opening. When I surface above the freezing water, I let out a painful wail and throw my hands against the ice. Noah reaches down and pulls me out, and I fall onto him.
Shaking. Clattering. Dying.
“I got you…” He presses his body against mine and caresses my back. “I’ll never let you go again.”
My body is lost in a sea of shakes and I’m unable to force the words from my lips.
“I need to get you inside.”
He stands up and scoops me into his arms and begins to race for the house. He rips the patio door open and carries me into the den where he lays me beside the fire. He jumps to his feet and grabs a handful of books, throwing them into the fire.
He sits down on the floor and pulls me into my lap, wrapping a blanket around me and patting me dry while rocking me. “You’re going to be all right.” He places his cheek against mine and despite the circumstances, I believe him.
For the first time in my life, I have hope. Things can change. We can be happy together.
But fate—always a step ahead of us—has other plans. Ben bends down and grabs Paul’s gun off the floor. His entire body is soaked with some parts seemingly turning to ice. His entire body shakes in the doorway of the den as he raises his gun and points it at me.
Noah frees me from his grip and scoots out from under me. He reaches for his gun on the couch, but it’s too late.
The first wound is a dream. It’s not happening, but it burns.
The second wound sends me into shock. There’s a hole in the world—a hole in my body.
The third wound is nothing more than confirmation of what I already know.
The fourth shot misses and burns a hole through the half-full gas can of kerosene.
Noah spins around with the gun in his hand and fires once.
Twice.
Three times.
Four times.
Five times.
Six times.
Seven times.
Eight times.
And click.
The gun is empty and Ben’s lifeless body tumbles sideways to the floor, resting right beside Paul’s cold, pale body.
12
Noah throws the empty gun to the floor and rushes to me, but when he touches me, I cry out in pain. My hands shake as they hover the wounds—holes—in my body.
“You’re going to be okay,” he promises me, but he’s never been a good liar. He cradles my head in his lap as he digs into his jeans and pulls out his cell phone. There are two rings before an operator answers. “I need an ambulance. My girlfriend has been shot.”
Girlfriend? My eyes begin to water.
Somehow, he’s calm. Almost as calm as the 911 operator on the other end of the phone, but at least he sounds like a caring human. “Where are you located?” the woman asks in a robotic tone.
“The Eastwood farm.”
“It’s going to take a little while for help to arrive due to road conditions—“
“Don’t you… need the address?”
“No, sir. I grew up right next door and help is on the way.”
“How long?” Noah asks as his voice breaks. He begins sniffling and I take his hand in mine to comfort him. “How long?”
“They’re on their way.”
“How long, god dammit?” he screams into the phone, losing his temper.
“What’s your name, honey?”
“Noah,” he mumbles.
“All right, Noah. Can you stay on the phone with me until they arrive?”
“They’re not coming, are they?” He sounds almost like a child. The first time I heard him say those words were when we were ten. We were living with a family for about a week when, during dinner, he asked the foster parents if his parents were coming to pick him up soon. They didn’t have an answer. He sounds exactly the same today as he sounded back then.
“They’re on their way, but the roads are ice and there are trees down along state route—”
Noah hangs up and sets the phone gently on the ground. I stare ahead at Ben’s dead body right beside Paul. There’s too much grief in the air and I need a distraction. “Aren’t you glad I loaded the gun?” I ask jokingly. “Three bullets my ass.”
He forces a laugh against my head. I grip his hand even tighter.
With no warning, the fire behind us flares up and ignites the trail of kerosene on the floor. “Fuck,” Noah screams and scoops me into his arms, carrying me away from the blaze.
We exit the den and the fire trails down the hallway to the front door. He spins to run the other way and I scream out in pain, crying for him to put me down. Every inch of my body hurts. As softly as he can, he lowers us to the dining room floor and cradles me in his arms. It’s the first time I’ve looked him in the eyes since I’ve been shot.
He’s so
dead inside. The last remaining remnants of life locked into the tears that roll down his face. His eyes are swollen and painted red. His lips tremble, but he’s trying to hold it in.
“It’s okay,” I say softly and brush the side of his cheek. “It’s okay.”
He shakes his head defiantly and cries out, cursing in the language of grief. He pounds his fist against the floor, causing a floorboard to pop up. The same floorboard where Luke and I had found the check five years ago.
“Pull that board up,” I tell him.
He doesn’t ask why, he just does it. He throws it across the floor and peers inside. “It looks like a safe.”
Even though it hurts like hell, I can’t help but laugh. “That stupid mother fucker,” I groan. “What kind of hiding place is that?”
“The money…” he muses to himself, “don’t worry about any of that right now.”
“It’s the furthest thing from my mind,” I say and feel as if I’m about to drift out permanently. The visage of the house becomes framed in horizontal lines by my closing eyes.
But Noah’s not ready to let me go. He shakes me and brings me back into the fray of the here and now. “The ambulance is on their way,” he says in his most assured voice.
“They’re too far out and the road is ice. They’re not going to make it,” I say weakly and then prepare myself to hear my own words. “You can’t save me, Noah.” I don’t think anyone is ever fully prepared to say those words, but they feel right. My eyes grow heavy and I lean deeper into Noah. “You can’t save me.”
He nods his head, and the tears that trail down his cheeks glisten against the light of the growing fire. “I know,” he whispers faintly.
There’s a swell of pain rising from my heart, and there’s no need for both of us to perish in this house, but unless I say it, he won’t save himself. “You need… to get out of here.”
He shakes his head violently, his lips pulling taut together. “I go wherever you go, remember?”
“We were thirteen.” It’s hardly audible, but I chuckle. “Besides, I don’t think that agreement extends to hell.”
“You’re not going to hell, Faith.” He forces a smile, and it’s so full of love—like a portrait worthy of The Louvre. “You are the most beautiful, most perfect angel I’ve ever known.”
“Don’t be stupid,” I moan and my head falls deeper into him. The closer I get to him, the further I get from this life—from this body.
He plants a soft kiss against my forehead and cries, “I’m not being stupid. I’ve never seen things so clearly in my life.” With his palm, he sweeps the wetness from under my eyes. “I’ve done so many things wrong in my life, and I can’t let tragedy be my excuse anymore. Before you came back, I was ready to die. But losing you like this…” He leans his head against mine. “I don’t belong to this world anymore.”
It takes all my strength, but I adjust myself so that I fit more comfortably in his arms and am able to see his face for what little time I have left. He’s the last thing I want to see before I leave this world.
“Without you, I’m incomplete. Always have been. Always will be. A life without you isn’t worth living.” He cracks a forced, pained smile that transcends the sadness. “I learned that in the four years your stupid ass was gone.” When he laughs, it’s genuine. He’s able to find strength in the darkness. “I turned into a god damned vigilante, for crying out loud.”
It’s only when I feel the heat of the fire on my face that I’m reminded that it’s there. Inching closer with every word spoken. Soon, this house will be burnt to the ground and there will be nobody left to share the memories. There’s no way he’s leaving this house without me—this much I know to be true. The only way he survives is if I survive and that’s becoming an increasingly slim proposition. In his own words from before, he’s ready to burn.
I mean to brush his cheek, but find myself holding onto his head. For what, I don’t know. “I love you, Noah.”
“I love you too, Faith Richards.”
Those three fucking words that have become so evasive in this world. My heart is full at this moment, but also shattered. It’s here and it’s too late—confirmation that there was never anybody else. “My… pocket,” I say weakly.
He understands and reaches into my pocket. As soon as his fingers touch it, he knows what it is and it’s a perfect Kodak moment. His face is priceless and it breaks me at the same damn time.
He pulls the diamond ring—the same ring from the tracks when we were thirteen—from my pocket and stares at it like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Even after all these years of being shuffled around and abused. It’s damaged, just like the best things in life. “Noah Parker,” I say through a gritted but sincere smile, “what do you say?”
The gates behind his eyes explode and his face is flooded in an instant. Like the Trojan horse, every tear is released into the world, prepared for battle. “Yes,” he sobs. “Yes. Yes. Yes.” He lifts my hand and slides the ring on my finger. “I love you so much.”
I mean to repeat those same words, but I’m not given the chance. He presses his lips against mine and pulls my head closer to him. Over and over, he plants kisses against my lips.
And even when my vision fades into darkness, I can feel his tear-stained lips. I can hear them. I can hear and feel everything. The pain of gunshot wounds, breaking hearts and burning fires blends with the ecstasy of kisses, full hearts, and unbreakable love. The pain and ecstasy tangle together until I feel nothing at all. But still, I hear him. He sniffles. He cries. He says those three fucking heart-melting, life-defining words. The words that gave my life meaning. The words that proved that I was somebody to someone in this world. Just three last fucking words.
“I love you.”
57 YEARS LATER
Infinite fields of grass have become my go-to destination when I want to escape the perfect symmetry. I sit on the ground, my head propped against Luke’s stomach while we stare at the impossibly blue sky. There are no clouds and no imperfections.
Silence has become golden. It’s almost as if words aren’t needed and there’s a constant understanding. There are no rules and there is no sadness—only peace. My flower-print dress lays flat against the ground. The two of us look like we just walked off the set of a country music video. Luke combs his fingers through my hair in long strokes, humming the same song he used to sing all the time.
“Hide and seek. You and me.
In the dark. In the light.
Hide and seek. You and me.
Running effortlessly.
Running through the forest of green.
When we reach the blue,
We’ll swim away.”
The blades of grass begin to blow in the face of an absolute rarity—wind. No words are said, and there are no warnings—just the wind. “He’s here,” I say to Luke and smile. I lift myself to my feet then drop my hand to assist Luke off the ground.
We stand against the rush of wind, our hair blowing behind us. My eyes search the field ahead of me, waiting for him.
In a blink, he’s there. Taking in the sights and the wonders around him as he walks toward us. The wind begins to dissipate, fully disappearing when he’s within arm’s reach.
He looks the same as I remember—his face full of boyish features, but his body that of a man. His green eyes burn brighter than ever before, but he’s still the same Noah he has always been.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” I say.
He doesn’t respond with words, only with a kiss. It feels like just yesterday when he was kissing me beside the burning fire. For him, it’s been so much longer. He takes hold of my cheeks and kisses me harder and deeper, with no intention of ever letting go.
But he does and he turns to Luke and throws his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. His smile is pursed and there’s a certain weight of sadness etched across his face.
But there is no sadness here. “I’ve missed you so fucking much,�
�� Noah mumbles against Luke’s neck.
“You’re telling me nothing I don’t already know,” Luke says through a laugh.
Noah gives him a few pats on the back before he retreats slightly and kisses Luke lightly on the cheek. Not content to let it end there, Luke returns the favor and lands a quick, playful kiss against Noah’s lips.
It’s sweet and it’s the perfect reminder of how things used to be. A reminder about how things are going to be from now on.
* * *
The three of us all lay in the grass with Luke and me resting on opposite shoulders of Noah, who runs his fingers through our hair.
There’s a question that’s been on my mind since the night I drifted away, the night Noah said he would follow me wherever I went. Don’t get me wrong, I’m elated that he changed his mind, but I just want to know where he went and what he did with his life. “How was life after Faith?” I ask with a sly grin.
“Hard,” he says softly. “But you gave me a reason to live and I found my faith again. I rebuilt the church and spent my life helping others.”
“You never left Old Town?” Luke questions.
“That’s a story for another day,” Noah answers and pulls us both closer then plants a kiss on the top of our heads. “Let’s just say I had an eventful life.”
“Did you get married?” Luke asks, but I’m not keen to hear the answer. Jealous apparently still exists when you’re living above the clouds.
Noah shakes his head. “I never remarried, because I never stopped being married.”
I twist the diamond ring on my finger. It’s not dull anymore and it’s not dirty. It’s been cleansed in a pond that’s just down the way. I lean up and point to Luke. “Show him the ring.”
“This,” Luke says through a wide smile, showing off a steel band on his finger.
“Looks just like mine.” Noah laughs.
The love I feel for these two boys—and the love they share for each other—doesn’t have to be understood by anyone else. We know what we had, what we have, and what we’ll always have. The three of us against the world.
Faithless #3: A Tainted Love Serial Page 6
