by Cassia Leo
She moaned softly. She lifted one hand, her fingers trembling. She touched his face. “Heath. My Heath. The other part of me.”
He kissed her again. “I won’t let you go.”
She smiled weakly. “Don’t worry. I know that you would stop it if you could.”
“I am going to stop it. You’re going to be fine. We’ll talk about this, and we’ll laugh. We’ll talk about how ridiculous it was that you thought you were going to die. We’ll talk about how scared I was…” He choked on a sob. “Jesus, Cathy, you’re scaring me.”
“I love you,” she said. “I’ve always loved you. So much it hurt.”
“I love you,” he said.
“But nothing will hurt anymore,” she said. “I’ll be free.”
“I mean it. Don’t say things like that.”
She didn’t respond.
He shook her. “Cathy!”
A sob overtook him. It felt like something inside him was breaking.
He shook her harder, making her teeth chatter against each other.
“Ouch, Heath,” she said, her voice quiet. “I’ll tell Mama if you do that again.”
He shut his eyes. No. “Cathy, stay with me.”
“Can you see it Heath?” she asked. With effort, she raised her hand and pointed. “It’s the fields in summer. And Mama is in the kitchen, making dinner, and Daddy is in the living room putting on a record.”
Everything inside him was shattering apart. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. Things weren’t supposed to be this way. She wasn’t supposed to die.
A small smile played on her lips. “We can’t run around the house. We’ll make the record skip.”
He lay his face down next to hers, let the tears come.
She wrapped her hand around his, her grip weak. “I want to play, though, don’t you? Will you come play with me? Will you run with me?”
He couldn’t answer. He couldn’t breathe. His soul was dying.
*
It had taken Eli so much longer to get home than usual due to the storm, and when he came to the tree in the road, less than a mile from his house, he was frustrated and angry.
But there was nothing for it. He got out of the car into the wind and rain. He’d have to walk the rest of the way. He climbed through the woods to get around the tree, and when he did, he saw that there was another car parked on the other side.
He went over to the car. As he got closer, he recognized it.
Heath’s car.
What was that fucker doing here?
He yanked open the driver’s side door, sticking his head inside. “Listen, Heath—”
Then he saw them. Heath was holding Cathy, whose head was lying at an unnatural angle, her eyes glassy. She looked very, very pale.
Heath was stroking her cheek over and over, whispering her name. He was crying.
Eli dove into the car. He touched Cathy’s neck, feeling for a pulse.
Heath didn’t even seem to notice him.
Cathy’s skin was too cold.
“What did you do?” said Eli. “What did you do to her?”
Heath didn’t answer. He just stroked her face, whispering her name.
Eli slapped him across the face. “Snap out of it.”
Heath looked at him dully. “Oh. You.”
“What happened?”
Heath swallowed. He seemed disoriented. “The tree fell. And then Cathy started bleeding. And I went back to the house. And it was burning. And I came back here and…”
“Burning?”
Heath nodded.
“What about my parents? Did you try to get my parents out?”
Heath furrowed his brow in confusion.
“What about the baby?” Eli was starting to feel like he was going crazy.
“I think it’s dead too,” said Heath in an absent voice. “She said she thought it was dead.”
Eli drew in a shaky breath. What did he do?
“You have a car?” said Heath. “On the other side of the tree? We have to take her to the hospital.”
“You just said she was dead.”
“Maybe she’s not,” said Heath.
Eli got out of the car. He could see the smoke from here. His house was on fire. Should he go to his parents?
Or should he try to save his baby? Cathy?
He leaned back inside the car. “Isabella?”
Heath looked confused. “Uh… she ran off before the lightning hit the house. I don’t know. She’s pregnant.”
What?!
Eli took several deep breaths, trying to think, trying to decide what to do. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing. He wasn’t strong. He’d never been the one to take charge. He’d always been good little Eli, go-with-the-flow Eli. What did he do?
He marched around to the other side of the car and opened the passenger side door. “Help me get her out.”
Heath stared at him with uncomprehending eyes.
“We’re taking her to the hospital,” he said. “Like you said.” He couldn’t go into a burning building. But he could take Cathy to the hospital. Maybe save their baby. Maybe… He shook his head, feeling tears threaten. “Why was she out here? Why was she with you?”
Heath only shook his head.
“Come on, help me,” said Eli, reaching for Cathy, trying to pull her out of Heath’s arms.
Heath bared his teeth like an animal, tightening his grip on her.
“You have to let me take her,” Eli said. “We have to try to get her help.”
Heath’s eyes narrowed, but he slowly nodded.
*
The nurse appeared in front of Eli, holding a screaming baby. Eli could see her limbs thrashing out, as if she was struggling against the air itself. He was frightened. He’d understood the idea of the baby, the one that Cathy was growing inside her, but now he realized that his understanding had only been abstract, and that he hadn’t really understood what it meant.
A baby.
Flesh and blood.
Angry.
Pink.
Small. So small.
“You want to hold her?” said the nurse. “The other man said you were the father.”
Eli’d stayed out of the room where they took Cathy, watching instead through the glass. He’d watched as Heath had to be pried off Cathy’s lifeless body. Heath was in a frenzy. Eli couldn’t muster anything like that. Cathy was gone. She wasn’t in that body. The only thing that had been in there was the baby.
He held out his arms.
And the nurse set the weight of the tiny, squirming, screaming thing in them.
The baby stopped crying.
She blinked up at him with unfocused blue eyes.
Eli was stunned. She was beautiful.
The world kept going around him, but for Eli it seemed to slow down, like the tiny girl is his arms had anchored him, tied him down. She was the only thing that was important anymore.
He sat down on a chair, gazing down at her.
He wouldn’t look away from her face, even when the nurses brought him a bottle to give her, even when Heath was dragged out by the hospital security, shrieking and raving. The baby was his. She was the only thing that made sense. She was the only thing that had come out of this mess of his life. And she was beautiful. He didn’t think he’d ever loved anything quite like this.
He was so caught up in her that it took a long time before he remembered the rest of the world. All of the things that had gone wrong.
His parents.
The house.
When they’d brought Cathy in, Eli had reported the burning house, but he hadn’t gone back to find out what happened. When he got the news, it wasn’t good. The house was destroyed. His parents hadn’t gotten out. They were dead.
Cathy gone. His parents gone.
And no sign of Isabella anywhere.
He was alone, and he had nowhere to go. He had nothing. Everything had burned up.
But he had a baby he had to take care of. All her thin
gs had burned up too. The clothes and toys and the crib that Cathy had picked out. It was all gone. He didn’t have a car seat to transport the baby.
But it turned out the hospital wouldn’t let him take the baby anyway. She was a little bit premature, and she’d been trapped inside Cathy’s body after Cathy had died. The baby seemed strong, but they wanted to keep her in the hospital to make sure.
So Eli spent the night there, feeling numb and ragged.
*
At dawn, Heath burst into the farmhouse. He tore through the house, yelling Matt’s name.
Matt was in the den, a bottle of whiskey sitting on the edge of his desk. He went through his drawers. When Heath appeared in the doorway, Matt pulled his pistol on him.
“I told you never to come back here,” said Matt. “You’re trespassing, and I can shoot you if I want.”
Heath’s eyes were wild, bloodshot. There was blood on his face. It looked like he might have torn at himself with his nails. He looked disheveled and half insane. “She’s dead.”
“Who’s dead?”
Heath began to walk towards Matt like a zombie, deliberate and menacing. “Cathy’s dead.”
Matt’s voice got softer. “What? What happened to her?”
“It all started with you,” said Heath. “I took care of Floyd, and everything was going to be okay, but you came back.”
Matt tightened his grip on the pistol, narrowing his eyes. “What do you mean, you ‘took care of’ him?”
Heath kept coming. “You came back, and you forced us apart. If you hadn’t done that, none of this would have happened. She’d never have met Eli at school because I would have been there.” He banged himself against the chest.
“What did you do to my father, you son of a bitch?”
“She wouldn’t have met him, and he wouldn’t have put that damned baby in her, and it wouldn’t have killed her trying to come out.” Heath’s face twisted. He grabbed hunks of his hair and tugged on them. “It’s your fault she’s gone.”
“You killed my father, didn’t you?” said Matt. He pulled the trigger.
The gun went off, loud and brash, echoing through the house.
But Matt was drunk, and his aim was off. He didn’t even graze Heath. The bullet lodged in the wall behind him.
And Heath lunged at him, his movements graceful and fluid. He took the gun from Matt’s hand and pushed Matt down into the desk, the gun at the base of Matt’s neck.
Matt didn’t move, fear all over his face. “Heath, wait. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
Heath was sobbing behind him. “You took her from me.”
“Put the gun down. Let’s talk about this.”
Heath removed the gun from the back of Matt’s neck.
Matt got up. “That’s right. We’ll just calm down.” He turned.
Heath jammed the barrel into Matt’s face. “Shut up.”
Matt gulped. “Heath—”
“I said shut up!” Heath raged, his whole body shaking.
Matt clamped his mouth down.
Heath scrabbled on the desk, handing Matt a pen. “Take this.”
Matt took it.
“Where’s the deed to the farmhouse? It’s in here, right? It’s in this desk. Floyd kept that stuff in the desk.”
Matt shook his head. “I-I don’t know. I can’t think with that gun in my face. Why don’t you put it down, and then we’ll—”
“Fine,” said Heath. “I’ll find it myself.” He tugged open a drawer.
Matt tried to move away while Heath wasn’t looking at him.
Heath clubbed him across the face with the gun.
Matt went down, knocking over the whiskey bottle.
Heath dug through the drawer. Then he made a triumphant sound.
Matt got to his feet. “That’s not the deed. I don’t keep it—”
“Better,” said Heath. “It’s your will.”
Matt tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. “What are you doing?”
Heath gestured with the gun. “Sit down.”
Matt sat down. “Don’t do this, Heath. You’re not yourself. You’re out of your mind with grief—”
“I’m myself,” said Heath. “This is what I am. Now you’re going to add a little addendum, and you’re going to leave everything to me. And trust me, Matt, I am going to do a much better job with this farm than you ever did.”
Matt’s hand was sweating so hard that he couldn’t grip the pen. His throat felt thick. “Please, Heath. Stop it.”
Heath put the gun against Matt’s temple. “Do it.”
Matt started to cry. “Why should I? You’re going to shoot me anyway, aren’t you?” His voice came out high pitched.
Heath leaned close. “Well, you don’t know what I’m going to do, now do you? But if you don’t sign everything over to me, the lights go out right now.”
Matt sobbed. He began to write at the end of the will, doing as Heath said. “Please don’t kill me.”
“Sign it,” said Heath. If he was moved by Matt’s tears, it couldn’t be seen on his face.
Matt signed it.
Heath snatched the will away from Matt. “Good. Now get on your knees.”
Matt fell apart. “Please, Heath. We were like brothers growing up. You can’t do this to me.”
Heath kicked him out of the chair. “You took her from me. You treated me like trash. I don’t owe you anything.”
Matt thudded against the floor, falling into a heap. Tears streaked down his face. “Please don’t.”
Heath knelt next to him, and his voice was soft. “I’m not going to.”
Matt stopped crying for a second, hope in his eyes. “You’re not?”
“No,” said Heath, picking up Matt’s hand and wrapping his fingers around the trigger.
Matt looked at him with confused eyes.
Heath pushed the gun against Matt’s head, and using Matt’s finger, pulled the trigger.
The gun went off.
Blood sprayed all over the hard wood floor. Over the desk.
Heath let go, and Matt’s body hit the floor with a smack.
“You’re going to do it,” said Heath. He stood up.
Without giving the body another look, he left the room.
Only to come face to face with the little boy. Gage was standing at the bottom of the steps. His eyes were wide.
Heath swore under his breath. “I forgot about you.”
Gage took several steps forward, as if he was going to go into the den.
Heath stepped into the little boy’s path and picked him up. “You’re not going in there.”
He took Gage out onto the porch. He sat down, holding the boy on his lap, and stared out as the sun struggled into the sky, staining everything bright red.
“He was a drunk, and you’re better off without him,” said Heath. “He wasn’t even your father.”
Gage looked up at him with solemn eyes.
“He stole Cathy from me, and he deserved it. They all stole her from me. They’ll all pay.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “But not you, Gage. Not you. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
*
Heath found Isabella wandering along the side of the road, nearly five miles from the Linton house. Her clothes had barely dried from the storm, and she looked as if she’d been walking all night. He pulled the car over. “Get in.”
She peered in the window, looking at Gage in the car seat in the back.
“He’s here because his stepfather committed suicide this morning,” said Heath. “He didn’t have anyone else. You don’t have anyone else either. Get in the car.”
She shook her head. “I’m not doing anything you say.”
He parked the car and got out.
She ran from him.
He ran after her and tackled her.
She scratched at his face.
He grabbed her hands and stopped her. He hauled her to her feet and stuffed her inside the car.
She started to cry. “Th
e house. It was on fire. Do you know if my parents—”
“Dead,” said Heath, starting the car.
“Where’s Cathy? You were with her.”
“She’s dead too,” said Heath, his voice breaking. “Something with the baby. I don’t know. I think she bled to death.”
“Oh god.” Isabella shook. “And Eli?”
“He doesn’t want to see you,” said Heath. “I’m all you’ve got.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You hate me,” she said. “I don’t want to be near you.”
He smiled tightly. “I feel responsible for you. And besides, I’m afraid if I don’t keep you close, you’d keep me from ever seeing my child.”
Isabella let out a disbelieving laugh. “You don’t care about the baby.”
“Maybe I will,” said Heath. “You can’t make me hate it just because you want me to.”
*
Eli paced. “I can’t believe Isabella didn’t want to come to the funeral.”
Heath smiled. “Are we here to talk about Isabella, or to do business, Eli? I would think this is a very simple transaction. I give you money, you give me all of your family’s land. You agreed to it earlier.”
“I’ve got no problem with selling it all to you,” said Eli. “I don’t ever want to come back here. I’m taking baby Thera to Baltimore. Cathy loved the city.”
“I couldn’t care less where you go, as long as it’s away,” said Heath. “Let’s get this over with, so that we no longer have to be in each other’s company.”
Eli sighed. “Well, it does seem we mutually despise each other.”
They were quiet. Papers were signed. Money changed hands.
Heath appeared satisfied. “You worry about Isabella, don’t you?”
“She’s my sister,” said Eli. “Of course I worry about her. And I haven’t seen her since this all started. I’ve only got your word that she even wants to be with you. Is she happy?”
Heath tucked the deeds into his pocket. “She’s miserable.”
