Stepping out of my Bronco, I carry a bouquet of flowers through the rows of headstones. The names I pass are all so familiar. I’ve walked this path hundreds of times before. Almost six years of solitary walks.
The square one with black lettering. The one with the angel engraved on it. My hand tightens around the flowers when I pass the marker for the five-year-old little girl. But as always, I find myself smiling at the double gravestone of an elderly couple who lived into their nineties, were married for over seventy years, and died within days of each other. The epitaph reads, “Together Forever.” I pass the last few headstones and stop in front of my dad’s.
It hurts every time I see his name scrawled across the granite. My mom chose the design and wording without ever asking me what I thought, but for once, I agreed with every decision. The symbol for Perception is engraved at the top. The two interlocking circles for the heart and mind with two ribbons, are braided together at the top and loose at the bottom to symbolize the Perceptives’ ability to discern the hearts and minds of others. These symbols bring tears to my eyes no matter how many times I see them.
My blurry vision makes it hard to see the epitaph, but I know it by heart anyway. Our source of joy and endless love. The only time my mom and I ever came here together was at his funeral. I remember standing next to her as they lowered his coffin into the ground. Maybe it was grief, or perhaps just a moment of weakness for her, but I remember her hand quietly slipping into mine and squeezing. I was young enough to believe for a brief second that she would help me through this, that she would put aside her bitterness and be the mother I needed her to be. That illusion faded quickly. Every week after that, our butler, Manuel, would drive me out here to visit my dad. Even during the most difficult times it always made me feel better to sit and talk to him.
Needing that now more than ever, I lay the flowers down at the base of the headstone and kneel on the soft grass next to them. This is always the hardest part for me, the beginning. Every time I would face this spot before my Inquest, it was with overwhelming guilt, believing that it was my fault my dad was dead. I thought I had killed him. While still true in a very real way, I now know that it was the only way. If he had stolen my talents there would be no hope for the Ciphers. There would be no one to stop whatever else may be coming. I believe he was doing what he thought was right, so I was eventually able to forgive him. And honestly, I think he has forgiven me, too. I stare at the grave with a measure of peace I have never felt before.
Slowly, words start to come. I apologize for staying away so long, and then I begin telling him about the last year. It helps me to explain everything. The details I have been struggling to keep track of all line up perfectly as I tell him our plan. My confidence grows as I see how well we have laid everything out. My mind searches for holes as I speak, but I don’t find any. By the time I finish, I think this plan might actually work. A crisp breeze meanders through the cemetery, winding itself around me, letting me pretend for a moment that it is my dad hugging me and telling me that everything is going to be okay. Grateful tears slide down my face.
I spend a few more minutes just sitting there, wishing my dad was still with me. I know he would be proud of everything I’ve done so far, and of what I’m about to do. I wonder if he would have any advice for me. He’d probably just say, “Little Libby, just please try not to hurt yourself this time.” And I would laugh and smile. Not because I thought he was being funny, but because I would know that odds were he would be driving me to the hospital before my grand idea panned out. But no matter how badly I got hurt, he had always been there to make sure I was alright. Up until facing my mom, I hadn’t broken a bone since his death. I was too afraid to try anything risky without him there to back me up.
He won’t be there this time. My smile falters as I admit to myself that I’m really on my own now. My biggest great idea yet, and he won’t be there to pick up the pieces if it all falls apart.
Well, I just have to make sure things don’t fall apart, then.
I push myself up off the ground and whisper a quiet goodbye. As I start back through the cemetery I don’t look at the headstones. I walk down the green carpet of grass, glad I came regardless of the mixed emotions I am carrying away with me. Only when my feet hit pavement again do I begin to look up from the path I have been walking. The comforting embrace of his presence flows around me before my eyes reach him. It’s hard to deny the relief and pleasure I feel at seeing him here.
“I know you heard me tell Milo I wanted to make this visit alone,” I say to Braden, not crossing the single lane road to greet him.
He stands calmly and walks over to me. “I did,” he admits, “but I’m too familiar with these kinds of visits to listen to you. I’ve made this same walk too many times wishing there would be someone waiting for me when I came back.”
My threatening posture slackens at his words, and I lean against the Bronco for support. It’s hard to be angry with him when he says something like that. He understands loss and grief. I’m glad I came, but it is hard to walk away not feeling the loss all over again. I chew on my bottom lip, unable to say anything for a moment. It isn’t Milo’s fault he’s never lost anyone close to him and didn’t understand why this was so important to me. Maybe I didn’t try hard enoughto make him understand.
“Are you all right?” Braden asks. He moves closer and leans against the Bronco next to me. When I don’t move away, he presses his shoulder against mine. Guilt that I don’t move away is overpowered by his warmth. I need someone to talk to.
“I’m okay. It’s just been a while since I’ve been here. I’ve missed talking to him.”
Braden nods. He knows exactly what I mean. I have no doubt he follows the same ritual I do.
“Do you visit your family very often?” I ask him.
“As often as I can,” he says. He smiles softly as he looks down at me. “It’s actually been easier since meeting you. I used to have to travel a lot, collecting Ciphers all over the country. Getting demoted has freed up a lot more of my time.”
“Well, at least that’s one good thing about knowing me.”
He smirks at me and doesn’t bother to respond. Oh yeah, he’s crazy enough to think there are all kinds of great reasons to hang around with me.
“I should have come here before this,” I say. I turn away from Braden and sit down on the grass. He follows, me leaning against him as soon as he sits.
“Why didn’t you?”
I sigh and shake my head. “I don’t know. At first it was just too hard to face him. After my Inquest, I was ashamed of who I was. He knew before he died, but he told me to keep it a secret. I felt like I had failed him because I couldn’t figure out a way to hide being the Destroyer. Then I found out what he was doing the night he died, trying to steal my talents, and I refused to come here. I know he was trying to help me, but I was still angry and hurt. He could have told me what he was planning, warned me at least. I spent five years thinking I had killed him. It wasn’t easy to let go of that kind of pain. And I’ve just felt so overwhelmed lately. I’ve wanted to come, but there hasn’t been any time. Every moment of my life is dedicated to rescuing the Ciphers. I’ve had a rough couple of months.”
“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one,” Braden says.
We both laugh quietly. It feels good to laugh, even at how insane my life is right now. So often I find myself wishing that I weren’t in this situation, that the Ciphers weren’t my responsibility. I wonder what it would feel like to have an average life. Would I even be able to function if my biggest concern was what top I was going to wear on a date later in the week? I can’t imagine such a simple existence. That has never been the fate laid out for me.
But maybe for a few hours I can try to forget and do absolutely nothing. Milo asked me to stay with someone who could help protect me, but all I really want is to go home. The Guardians watch my motel around the clock, thinking they’re protecting themselves from me, but mo
st of the time it feels like the opposite.
I stand up and look down at Braden. “I know I said I wanted to do this alone, but thanks,” I say. “I needed to talk to someone.”
He stands as well, and says, “No problem. It’s been killing me to feel how unhappy you’ve been.”
Turning away from his concern because I don’t know how to fend it off, I walk toward the driver’s side door of the Bronco. I start to pull the door open, but Braden is there stopping me. “Where are you going now?”
“Home.”
“To do what?”
It’s not really his concern, but I answer. “To sleep, or draw, anything to take my mind off what we’re about to do … and other things, too.”
“You’re not supposed to be alone.”
My face scrunches into a scowl. “How much of my conversation with Milo did you listen in on?”
“All of it,” he says with no shame.
“Why?”
He gives me a look that says, do you really need to ask? Of course I don’t, but it’s still irritating that he would eavesdrop. I push my door open and slide into the seat. When I hear the passenger’s side door close I keep staring straight ahead until the urge to strangle Braden passes. When I do look over, he’s already buckled in.
“What are you doing?”
“You don’t need to be alone today,” he says.
“I don’t need you to protect me.”
Braden looks at me with no edge of command or force. “I didn’t say I’m here because Milo demanded you be protected while he’s gone. You are more than capable of protecting yourself. I said you don’t need to be alone today.”
“Maybe I want to be,” I counter.
“No you don’t. You didn’t last night when you asked Milo to stay with you, and you don’t now after seeing your dad and are still upset about last night.”
His words wrap around me like an embrace. He’s right about everything … but I won’t let myself admit it. “You don’t always know what I want, Braden. I want to go home and go to bed for the next two days.”
“I do know what you want,” he says, “and not because I’m your Companion. I can see in your eyes that you don’t want to be abandoned again. I’m not trying to push you into anything. I just can’t leave you like this.”
All my bravado falls away. The first tear slips down my check, but before it can splatter on my jeans Braden wipes it away. His fingers linger on my face, their touch infusing me with his strength and love. It wasn’t supposed to be Braden here today. Another tear falls. I shouldn’t be crying and missing Milo. He should be the one here. Tears spill over Braden’s fingers. He gives up any semblance of restraint along with me and pulls me into a hug that cradles me and my heartache alike. My own arms latch around him. I don’t want him to leave. I bury myself in his embrace and let my tears fall. After a long while, I slowly calm back down as his presence soothes my dejected spirit.
When I am finally able to pull myself out of his arms, he asks, “Are you going to tell me to go away again?”
“No,” I say quietly.
He nods, the barest hint of pleasure gathering around him. “Will you come with me somewhere?”
I look over at him, doubtful. “Does that really seem like a good idea? You have permission to come to my motel and pull me out of school, but being seen around town might look pretty suspicious.”
“I wasn’t planning to drag you all over Albuquerque,” he says drily.
“Then where?”
“Come out to the Bosque Del Apache with me. It’s one of my favorite places to go when I need a break. I know some pretty remote areas that are private and beautiful. I think you’ll like it, and you could use a day to relax.”
Hiking … that sounds okay. Doing something physical will keep me from thinking too much, and being outdoors actually sounds great. Guilt slithers around in my mind as I consider saying yes. Milo mentioned staying with Braden, but he had no idea what he was asking. Lance wouldn’t turn me down if I were to call him instead. But I don’t.
“Should I follow you?” I ask Braden, not actually admitting I want to go, but making my answer obvious regardless.
“My car’s not here. I took a cab to avoid anyone noticing it.”
Grateful he considered that before following me here, I offer him my keys. “Do you want to drive then?”
“Haven’t you been there before?”
“Not in a while. They don’t allow four wheeling.”
Braden laughs as he heads out of the cemetery. “Well, no four wheeling today, but I think you’ll still like it.”
I am doubtful as he drives away from town toward the wildlife refuge. Spending the day in bed still sounds like a better plan, given how awful I feel. The doubt lasts until we get to the refuge and get out into the sunshine amidst a flock of Sandhill cranes taking flight and soaring over our heads. Their beauty brings a bright smile to my face. White feathers against blue sky, they look like angels, or maybe spirits of friends lost, swooping overhead to remind you they miss you as well.
“See,” Braden says from right next to me, “I told you that you would like it.”
I needed this. “Thanks.”
“Come on, I want to show you a few of my favorite places.”
Braden takes my hand and tugs me toward a trailhead. He doesn’t let go right away, and I don’t make him. Every time he touches me my melancholy dims. No matter how many times I tell myself I don’t want Braden, my spirit begs for him. It gets harder to bury the pleasure I feel at being around him every time I give in to his touch or glance or embrace. Right now ignoring how I feel is impossible.
We’ve reached the trailhead before I pull myself out of my thoughts and look up at Braden. He stops and meets my gaze. I don’t know if he lifts our hands or I do, but they become posed between us. The silent question is plain in Braden’s expression. I don’t know what the answer is. Trying to help me decide, Braden’s hand presses gently against my cheek. I can’t stop myself from leaning into his touch. His fingers curl and trail down my skin. The aching desire they leave in their wake pools in my center and refuses to ever leave. The next moment I am back in Braden’s arms, completely enveloped in his warmth, scent, and unquestionable love.
It doesn’t go further than that, though I find myself wanting very much for it to continue. Braden releases me, all but my hand, and starts down the trail without another word. We walk through the tall summer grasses that tickle my fingertips and bare legs. Around the marshy ponds, we take off our shoes and wade along the banks as we watch the turtles and fish meander through the water. Then we do some meandering of our own, through the fields and trees. Braden never once lets go of me. Every step we take leaves a piece of my anxiety, a drop of my fear behind.
Logically, I know it will all come back as soon as we leave, but for a few beautiful hours I think about nothing but the sun on my skin, the perfection and beauty of the natural world, and how happy I am. I smile more in one day with Braden than I have in months.
Lying in the thick grasses as we watch the sun start it’s descent, I close my eyes. The brilliant oranges and purples of sunset linger behind my eyelids a moment before fading. Then there is nothing but the feel of Braden’s spirit caressing mine as I lie with my head on his shoulder. If I could stay in this moment all weekend, I would.
“The park is closing soon. We should start heading back,” Braden says quietly, my own reluctance to move echoed in his voice.
“I don’t want to go home,” I whisper.
I feel Braden’s breath hitch. His arm tightens around me for just a moment. “I know,” he says. “Neither do I.”
Neither of us moves. We lay silent in the grass until only a sliver of sun is still visible above the horizon. The park doesn’t close until an hour after sunset, but it will take us at least that long to get back to the Bronco unless we run. It isn’t safe to wander around the Bosque after dark. Cranes and turtles aren’t the only animals that live in the refuge
. Coyotes and bobcats prowl these marshes after dark as well.
When Braden shifts to get up, he has to push me along with him. He consoles my pouting by draping his arm around my shoulder as we walk back toward the trail. We are quiet as we walk. One day out of every other day we have seen each other shouldn’t be that significant. Being so surrounded by Braden has made this day unique. Milo was still in my thoughts often enough today, guilt for my weakness poking at me when it could and telling me I should have gone with him. I didn’t want to spend my time training, but I wanted to be with him. Milo wouldn’t bend, but neither would I.
Left alone by my choice or Milo’s, when Braden stepped in and delivered the escape I needed so badly, I know I should have turned him away. One fight with Milo doesn’t mean I’m interested in giving him up. I try to tell myself this day means nothing in the broad scope of my life, but in my heart I know something has changed.
We reach the Bronco just before full dark. I expect Braden to take me back home, but when he gets off the freeway in the wrong section of town I realize he has other plans. “Where are we going?” I ask, panicked that he took my complaint of not wanting to go home too literally.
Braden looks over at me, and says, “I have a surprise for you.”
Mr. Walters’ warning had slipped from my mind, but now it comes back full force.
Chapter 2
7
Closer
I don’t know what to think as I stare at the modest-sized home in front of us. Milo bought me a car, but there’s no way Braden would go this far to try and outdo him. He doesn’t say anything as he kills the engine. Something about this house seems very familiar, but I can’t place it. It’s definitely not Braden’s house because he’s mentioned living in a townhome. Braden takes the keys out of the ignition and looks over at me.
“What are we doing here?” I ask warily.
Not dissuaded by my tone, Braden says, “Why don’t you come with me and find out?”
Secret of Betrayal: Book Two of The Destroyer Trilogy Page 27
