Liberated

by Abi Ketner

  He pulls away, wiping his face with his arm and picking up his gun. “I’m sorry, I just …”

  “Don’t apologize,” I say, wiping my tears with my forearm. “If anyone understands the raw pain of losing someone you love, it’s me.”

  “I know …” His jaw twitches, holding back tears. “That’s why I’ve tried my hardest to not fall apart in front of you.”

  “Please don’t worry about that. No matter what, I will always be here for you.” I squeeze his shoulders.

  He nods. “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” I pause. “People say time heals, but they’re wrong, so I’ll skip that hogwash.” Bruno gives me a tiny nod, so I keep going. “But you’re strong, and at some point, you’ll find yourself moving on, never forgetting, but able to function again. If that makes sense.”

  Bruno’s eyes meet mine, steady and full of heartache, and yet, I sense a twinge of hope within him. “I appreciate your honesty,” he says. He sighs, and I sense our conversation’s wrapping up, but then sighs and says, “Cole’s lucky to have you.” His words sting, and my body reacts like he hit me, but Bruno doesn’t back down. “Since we’re not bullshitting each other, let me tell you something.” Bruno turns to face me. “Cole loves you so you guys gotta fix this and move on, because if anyone knows there’s no guarantee for a tomorrow, it’s me.” Bruno pats me on the shoulder and then stares up at the sky, content to remain quiet.

  I pick at the broken skin on my hands before my head fills with endless wrestling thoughts. Can I ever forgive Cole? Is it selfish of me to hang on to my anger and grief? What would my father think if I did forgive Cole, and even worse, if I still love him despite my misgivings about his past?

  But my father always forgave those who hurt him. He believed that people could change, and for the better. That all torn strings could somehow be mended, not lie forever separated by a distance created by raging emotions.

  Bruno would give anything to have Grace back. Would I regret it tomorrow if something happened to Cole and I had still left things unsaid? If I allowed my grief over his actions in the past cloud the future? Yes, my mind says. Of course you would. Bruno’s definitely in what he said, even if it’s tough to swallow.

  But he tortured your father, another voice pipes up.

  He’s also saved you countless times.

  He only did that because he had a guilty conscience.

  Maybe at first, but I think he really loved you. I think he still does.

  He worked for the most evil person in the country, and you’re making excuses for him.

  He was just doing what he had to do. He didn’t have anyone to guide him.

  He beat, tortured, and waterboarded your own father, the voice says. He lied to you, made you believe Keegan was wrong about him. My hands begin sweating, and I press them together. He hurt you over and over, betrayed you. I can’t focus, and my muscles clench. The images of Cole torturing my father flip through my memory like I was there.

  Make it stop. I think I hear screaming somewhere. I can’t breathe. I can’t snap out of it. I don’t want to believe all of it, nor see it in my mind.

  Maybe, deep down, it’s not anger that’s weighing me down. Maybe it’s sadness, and hurt. Or could guilt be the culprit? Either way, it’s time for me to get a grip and start working toward forgiving Cole. Time’s not on our side, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my days pulling away from the man I love.

  How can you love a monster like him?

  You can go to hell! I’m done listening to your lies.

  Pain like no other arcs through my fingers. Reality knocks me over the head as I come to, grasping my hand to my chest. Zeus looks at me, perplexed.

  “Hey, you okay?” Cole asks with concern. He holds my face between his hands and touches his forehead to mine. My eyelids close for a moment, and when I open them, I notice how the lighting makes his eyes look black.

  “How … how … did I get in here?” I say, fear grabbing at my insides. I inspect my hand; it’s lined with teeth marks.

  “You don’t remember?” Cole asks.

  “I was sitting outside with Bruno.”

  “But then you walked in here, and you froze … like you turned to stone,” Cole says. “A second later, you screamed like you were on fire.”

  “I screamed?”

  Cole looks rattled, his face searching mine for answers. My hand throbs, and it’s not the hand that was punctured with glass.

  “What happened to my hand?” There are bite marks on both sides that could only have come from one mouth. I lean down to Zeus. “Did you do this?”

  “What?” Cole grabs my arm and inspects the indentations. “He bite you?”

  “Unless it was you.”

  Cole’s face twists up. He growls before turning toward Zeus, his mouth open to yell at the dog when he’s interrupted.

  “Please, don’t yell at him,” my mom says. She’s nestled against a wall but sits up. Her hair sticks out in various directions, and she pushes it away from her pale face.

  “Don’t you dare tell me how to handle my dog,” Cole barks at her.

  Her forehead creases like it does when she’s been verbally slapped. “It wasn’t meant to hurt her,” she says. “Look again. I’d be willing to bet there’s no blood.”

  “Lexi, give me your hand.” Cole softens his tone, taking my hand in his. His face turns into a scowl as he traces the teeth marks with his fingers. But my mom is right; there’s no blood. “Zeus, what’s wrong with you?”

  “That dog’s nothing but a menace,” Levi says.

  “Shut up,” I snap at Levi. I turn back to Cole, whose brown eyes meet mine. “Maybe I scared him? He’d never hurt me. I’m sure it was an accident.”

  Cole presses his lips together, and I examine him for the first time since he told me the truth. Behind the curtain of strength lies a vulnerability all tied up with pain and guilt. He shifts uncomfortably under my gaze. His muscles flex and then relax, clearly contoured beneath his tattered shirt. He has bags beneath his eyes, like all of us, but now the responsibility of Owen falls heavy on his shoulders. He did harm my father. He did lie to me. But that’s all said and done. And I don’t want to live in the past, do I? Because even with all that has happened between us, I still love him.

  Beside me, Zeus growls. It startles Cole. “It’s okay,” I say gently. Zeus comes to me and nudges my side. I rub behind his ears.

  "He sensed it,” my mom says in a quiet voice. “He felt she wasn’t with us, and he simply bit her to snap her out of it. In his defense, he did the right thing.”

  “Wait. How? How could he know that?” I scrunch up my forehead. “He’s never done that before.”

  She doesn’t talk to me. She addresses Cole. “A canine’s sense of hearing is heightened. He must’ve heard Lexi’s heart rate increase along with her breathing. He knew, whatever thoughts she was having, they were causing her great distress.” Her voice is raspy, like speaking every word causes her pain.

  “What were you talking about, exactly?” Cole asks. “Was anyone else with you and Bruno?”

  “Who cares?” Levi says. “I’m tired and want to go back to sleep.”

  “I do!” Cole spits at him. Levi turns his head away, disgusted.

  I shake my head. “I was with Bruno, out back,” I say. “Mom, he’s a dog. You don’t need to refer to him as a canine.”

  She smiles weakly. “You called me mom.”

  “Oh,” I say, but I can’t help feeling pity wash over me. “It feels weird calling you by your name.”

  “What is your name, by the way?” Levi asks her, all nosiness. “So I don’t have to keep referring to you as Lexi’s … whatever.”

  “Jade,” she says softly.

  Levi’s eyebrows form rivets in his forehead, as he leans back against the wall. “It’s … different,” he mumbles.

  “So, anyway, how can you be sure that’s what Zeus was doing?” I ask her.

  She turns her full at
tention back to me. “Back in college, I wrote a paper about how canines …” She pauses. “My apologies, dogs, have been used for decades to help people who suffer from numerous things, and in Lexi’s case, PTSD.”

  “Come again?” Levi says.

  “PTSD. It stands for post-traumatic stress disorder.”

  “Right.” Levi tries to act like he knows what she’s talking about, but it’s clear as day he’s never heard of PTSD.

  “And you think I have that?” I ask. “PTS … whatever it is.”

  “With your symptoms, absolutely,” she says with confidence. She stands and comes closer, searching me with her gaze. “The flashbacks, and not remembering what you’re doing when they come … it’s textbook.” She pushes a ringlet of hair away from my face, but I don’t cringe like I thought I would. In fact, I find myself craving it. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’ve been through some traumatic things.”

  “If what you’re saying is true, and I do have this PTSD thing, will it ever go away?”

  “It’s possible, with the right kind of psychotherapy, and if you learn how to recognize your triggers. But it’s not going to happen while we’re still in here.”

  I move backward so I can get a better view of her. Her eyes are glassy in the weak lighting, her fingers cold to the touch. “So you’re saying Zeus knows?” I can accept her diagnosis only because I know my father always admired and enjoyed how smart she was.

  “He’s intuitive. As if he knows what others around him are feeling,” Cole says, his arm brushing against mine. It leads to an uncomfortable silence. His shoulders slump, and disappointment flickers across his face.

  “I’m going to sleep,” Levi says. He lies back and folds his arms around his body.

  “Whatever it is that caused this, I could try and help you,” my mom says, looking pointedly at Cole.

  ”No, it’s okay,” I say quickly. “There are more important things to focus on than me.”

  My mom frowns and shrugs, but I’m not interested in talking to Cole in front of her. She waits a while, shadows covering her face, and then sighs, going back to where she was sleeping before. Soon, she’s fast asleep, but I don’t miss the sheen of sweat on her forehead. I turn my attention toward Cole, who’s sat against the opposite wall, his legs splayed out in front him. He’s gone strangely silent.

  “Something’s bothering you,” I whisper. “What is it?”

  “Lexi, you know what,” he says in a broken voice.

  Silence lingers between us, and Bruno’s words echo in my mind. I can’t let this rare moment slip away. But Cole continues.

  “Maybe it’s best if I keep my distance. Bruno can take over.”

  “I was dealing with this before I came to the Hole,” I say, but I find myself avoiding his stare.

  “But they’re different now, worse,” he says. He sounds defeated, and it hurts me. “You’re confusing the hell out of me, one minute you let me in and the next you’re pushing me away. You might not say it, but you know, you’ll never know what you want.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” I say. My heart aches with his words.

  “There are moments when we touch, and you flinch and your body stiffens,” he explains. “Other times you ask me to hold you, comfort you, and remind you I’ll never leave you.”

  “I’m so sorry, Cole. I’m trying.”

  “Lexi, I’m still the guy you fell in love with. I’m the same person who’s been there for you every second of every day. I refused to be the man the Commander wanted me to be, and for that, I was sent to guard the Hole. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make, if it meant I’d never have to torture another person again. What I did still haunts me. It pains you to look at me, but did you ever take the time to think that maybe, just maybe, looking at you reminds me of what I did to your father?” He runs his hands down his face and releases a painful breath.

  “I hate myself for what I did,” he whispers. “I was weak. I wasn’t strong enough to fight and stand up for a helpless man.” He sighs, and the moonlight tosses shadows over his face as he turns. “You have every right to hate me—heck, I hate myself for the pain I’ve caused you—”

  “Do you think I hate you?” I interrupt.

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Cole … I’m hurt but I could never hate you,” I say softly and take his hand in mine. “My emotions are all over the place.”

  “So what’s to say you won’t hate me tomorrow?”

  “Because this time, I’m using my head and not my heart,” I say firmly.

  He sits up a bit straighter. “And that means?”

  “Meaning ... when we met, we were all emotion. All fire and passion, moment to moment.” I glance down at our hands. “I was immature, lost, had no security, bruised by my past, and more susceptible to the thought of a knight in armor sweeping me off my feet.”

  “And now?” he asks.

  “I’m older and wiser. I want more … something more sustainable.”

  “Like?”

  “Trust … and friendship.” We lock eyes, and his reaction is unreadable.

  “Are you saying you forgive me?” he asks.

  I exhale. “I forgive you … and I was thinking along the lines of starting over.”

  “Trust,” he says. “Right?”

  “Yes.” I sigh. “So, shall we begin again, but this time as friends?”

  “Really, friends?” I give him a sharp look, and he smiles at me. “All right. We’ll work on the friendship part of our relationship, but if you think I can stop loving you, that’s not gonna happen.”

  “Same here,” I say. His smile stretches from ear to ear.

  “No more secretes, no more lies. I swear to you.” He squeezes my hand. “I’ll tell you everything and anything you want to know about me.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.” He leans in, moving his lips toward mine. I place my hand over my mouth and he furrows his brow. “What? Friends don’t kiss?”

  “Do you kiss Bruno?”

  “If it means I get to kiss you, I’ll go smooch him right now.”

  “He’ll punch you.”

  “I’d be worth it.”

  Zeus scoots up next to me, forcing his head into my lap, and licks our joined hands. I can’t stifle a giggle as it bursts from between my lips. He pushes his large body between us, and I put my arm over him as I lie down.

  “See? Even Zeus agrees with the friend part,” I say.

  “No, he doesn’t. He’d rather be tearing pillows apart,” Cole replies sarcastically. I give him a playful swat over Zeus’s back, and we laugh quietly.

  Bruno was right. I’m lucky to have Cole, even with the past being what it is. I can’t change it, and neither can he, but we can move forward and work through the issues one day at a time. From now on, I’m going to try my best to work through my flashes, so that I can still have him in my life. Because not having anyone to lean on is torture. I don’t need to be in a relationship with Cole, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try.

  I can’t have been asleep long. The moonlight still pours in from the windows and spills over our bodies. My throat aches with the need for water, but there’s no hope of moving because Zeus lies halfway on top of my legs, cutting off circulation to my toes. My mom’s mumbling in her sleep, and it sets me on edge. She says things that make no sense, but no one else seems to notice or be disturbed.

  “Vial,” she says. She rolls over suddenly, her arms banging against the floor. “Stop.” She sighs heavily. “No, no more drugs.”

  I lean over to get a better view of her, but her face is pinched, eyelids closed. If I could move, I’d shake her from her dreams. She settles into a steady rhythm of sleep after time, but my mind never rests, even as my eyelids burn with every blink.

  I focus on Cole, who breathes softly, with Owen curling into him. It might have been hours since our conversation, but I already feel peace with our truce, like it’s one less burden I’m carr
ying on my shoulders. I need him in my life, there’s no doubt about that, because he’s been there for me through so much already.

  Zeus adjusts his position so I’m able to free my legs from beneath him, my feet tingling with pins and needles as sensation returns to them. Cole doesn’t wake up immediately, which is unusual. He must feel at peace too, which makes me breathe deep with relief.

  I stand, brushing the dust off the butt of my pants. When I offer to trade positions with Bruno, he sleepily accepts, stumbling into the building to crash. I notice the whites of his eyes are red, which could be from crying, or the dire need for rest. The moon dangles in the sky like a silver coin, but judging from the pink horizon, it won’t be long before the sun rises. I lean against the side of the doorframe and sit down on the steps. My gun’s perched in my hands as I examine the street. Looks like broken-down wooden shacks, soulless cement buildings, and a pathway to nowhere. Not too different from the rest of the Hole, aside from the amount and graphic detail of the graffiti. The humidity settles on me like a wet, warm blanket, so I take a sip from my canteen. Just enough to moisten the inside of my mouth, which feels like it’s stuffed with cotton balls. If I drink too much water, I might run out before we find more. As soon as we do, I’ll be chugging this whole thing down my raw throat. Pain is one thing; I can deal with pain … But thirst? Now that can drive a person mad.

  When the gunshots first ring out, I can’t tell where they come from. The shooting is intermittent at first, so I survey the surroundings, trying to get a sense of who is doing it. Of course, I can’t see anything or anyone. The splitting sound echoes off the nearby buildings. I push myself into a standing position and creep backward into the entryway, using it as a shield in case someone shoots at me. My breaths come steady, but shaky, expecting the worst. Shadows dance along the walls, prickling the hair on my neck.

  “Cole,” I call into the building. “Come quick.”