I don’t.
She doesn’t answer, but her silence is answer enough. “It was there, yes,” she finally says. “I admit that. A long time ago. You ruined that pretty good.”
“I… yes. I know.”
I glance at her as she stumbles and then regains her footing, changing her grip around our sleeping daughter’s form. My whole body tenses as I ready myself to catch her if she falls. She looks up at me, waiting for me to continue.
“I made choices I regret,” I mumble, my whole being crumbling in shame. Salvatore threatened my sister, but I could have found a fucking way around that if I had only thought a little.
She raises her eyebrows but doesn’t answer. I guess there’s not much to say.
I deflate. I’ve lost everything. Everything that ever mattered to me. And I can only blame myself. Maybe I could force her to become mine, somehow work her, manipulate her. But that’s not how I wanna play it. I don’t want to play at all, actually. I know I’m going to have to let them go. Shut down. Shut them out.
I’ll have to live with it, with what I’ve done, and what I’ve lost.
I realize this is my gift to them, my sacrifice. I’ll take them to safety and then give them their lives back. This walk through these abandoned forests will redeem me, help me forgive myself if no one else does.
“Is this the top of the mountain?” I need to focus on something solid, something I can still work with, something still in my grasp. “We need a break.”
She nods and carefully lowers Cecilia to the ground, snugly wrapped in her blanket.
I drop the backpack to the ground. “I hate trees, and rocks, and roots, and twigs. I’m never setting foot in a forest again. Ever!”
“I’m prone to agree,” she pants and plops down next to our daughter.
“You’ll get cold.”
“I don’t fucking care,” she grits. “Still no signal?”
I shake my head as I start unpacking. Coffee, two mugs, two sandwiches, a bottle of water, and a second blanket. At the bottom of the backpack there are two sandwiches left. For Cecilia. And that’s all there is. I glance up at the wilderness and pray silently we won’t get lost. And that Kerry knows where we’re going. I eye her suspiciously. I really hope she knows the way.
Now that we’ve stopped and seated ourselves at the edge of Cecilia’s blanket, mugs with steaming contents in our hands, and a few chews in on our first sandwich, I realize how sweaty, cold, and deadly tired I am already. And I started this with a not only good physique, but great. Kerry must be so much worse off, but she isn’t complaining in the least.
Her hour of a thousand questions doesn’t seem to be over yet, though, and with some newly found energy, she starts again.
“Why did you come for me that second time?”
I clench my jaws and pray for strength. Can she just not fucking let this go? I inhale to speak, but she interrupts me.
“Walk me through it, please. I’ve existed in a void of pain and fear, only surviving. I haven’t lived since. Please let me know there was a reason. Help me understand.”
I relive the pain in the harbor, the blinding fury after she seduced me with a mere few words and her big, green eyes, and then completely wiped the floor with me, as if I hadn’t been the professional and she hadn’t been the victim.
“I didn’t come to kill you that second time.”
She frowns, her hand with the cup stopping mid-air. “No?”
“I wanted to save you.”
She scoffs.
“Fuck, Kerry. I didn’t want you dead. Ever. Salvatore held an axe over my head. I tried to get you out of it, but he demanded I take you out.”
“But… he seemed so reasonable when I talked to him.”
I bark out a short laugh. “Don’t ever let that man fool you. He’s lethal. He never does anything without reason. If he was nice with you it’s because he figured it would benefit him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Cecilia saved your ass.”
Kerry glances at our daughter and then back at me. “So… then you saved my life after all.”
I frown.
“That night. When you fucked the woman you knew you were going to kill.” Her lips twist into a sneer and then she stands abruptly.
“Ker!”
“Let’s go.” She shakes the last few drops out of the cup and puts it in the backpack. “If I ever see you again, after today… do I have to be afraid?” Her voice is hesitant, careful. “If—if you’ll let us go, I mean,” she breathes, the last words barely audible.
I frown as I look at her. Her dark eyes are wide and full of questions. “Yes, of course I’ll let you go. Fuck! I don’t know how I can ever convince you!”
She looks away. “Me neither, to be honest. I’m too scarred.”
“I know,” I mumble. “I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Maybe we are?” she says softly and glances at me again.
“Huh?”
“Maybe we are doing something about it?”
I regard her. Then I nod. Yeah, maybe we are.
In minutes we have everything packed and are on the move again. It’s my turn to carry our child. I cradle the little life to my chest and take a deep breath. Then we start walking again.
Kerry
Everything aches.
Everything.
My feet, my ankle, my legs, my back—definitely my back, my shoulders, my head, my heart… I glance at Christian. He looks as terrible as I feel.
And I’m wet. My legs and my back are soaked. Wet. But I’m warm-wet, because of the effort. Only my feet are cold-wet. Ice-cold wet. And I keep slipping in my rubber boots. What the hell made me throw away my good winter jacket and my boots when I entered my kitchen window that first night? When I tried to kill him. But he just kept on living, and now I thank whatever God there might be up there. Maybe all things happen for a reason? I could never have made this journey on my own. But hadn’t it been for him, I’d have had a working car, but then again… it wouldn’t have made it past that tree that lies over the road.
I can’t think! I don’t know anymore. Everything has gotten so complicated.
Funny how long ago that seems, when I climbed in through my kitchen window. The days and nights have melted into each other and I’m not even sure how long he’s been with us anymore. Forever it seems. Maybe he has really been with me forever? Maybe it was always us? Ever since I first met him I’ve never been fully free of him, not since the moment I looked into his eyes, turning toward him in the bar, losing track of time and place.
Almost two years ago.
Since his arrival here I haven’t had the time, or the energy, to dwell much on those old things. Or on anything beyond him, me, and Cecilia. Things have just… happened, and I’ve had to live them.
I shake my head. I’m exhausted and can’t think anymore.
It’s straight ahead on the plateau for a while now, and then it’s downhill. We should have an hour left. I have no energy left whatsoever, but Christian’s relentless marching and Cece’s flushed face gives me that extra boost I need every time I feel like just giving up.
“I think we’re through the worst,” I pant.
He gives me a pale grin. “That’s good, Ker. I’m beginning to completely lose feeling in my feet.”
“What?”
“My shoes aren’t exactly cut out for this.”
“Oh my God! We have to take a look!”
“No.”
“Bu—”
“No. We move on. That’s the only thing we’re gonna do. No rest. No looking.”
I narrow my eyes as I regard him. My chest tightens from the tone of his voice. He’s worried. If he’s worried…
“Okay. Down through there now. Here, let me take her.”
He hands me Cece. She squirms and moans. I lay my cheek against her forehead and the lump of fear grows in my chest. She’s hot. The adrenaline gives me new energy and we keep walking.
“Whoa! Hold it!”
“What?” I glance up from under my ski cap that has slid too low without me even noticing it.
“Are you sure this is the straightest way?”
He’s pointing at a sudden slope where the ground seems to disappear into nowhere, a ravine, maybe fifteen feet deep and thirty feet wide. I take a step closer to get a better view, but he stops me as I stagger and slide.
“Careful! Want me to take her?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine.”
I’m confused. I didn’t know this was here, but then again, maybe I’ve never been all the way up here before.
“Are we on the right path at least?” he asks with a new edge in his voice.
His eyes are dull and tired, his cheeks flushed, and the stubble has begun to grow into a short scruffy beard. He looks like a very tired caveman. I raise my gaze to the pale sun and think of the directions. I’m good with directions, always have been, it’s like I have an inner map I follow, a compass guiding me through the terrain. God, I wish I had a similar built-in device for everything else in my life.
“Yes. It’s that way.” I point right across the ravine.
His eyes narrow. “Are you sure?”
I nod.
He takes a couple of steps closer to the edge and glances over it and then across to the other side. “There’s a river down there. And it’s too deep, this whole fuckery. We can’t get across it here. Do you know where it leads to?”
I shake my head, my mind rapidly filling with dread and despair. This is it. I can’t take this. We can’t pass and I just don’t know what to do. We’re not going to make it. I’m so tired. I just want to sit down and—
“Ker!”
I look up at him, unable to hold back the tears. “It’s no use,” I whisper. “I can’t… go on.”
He turns fully toward me and takes one long stride. “Get your act together, woman,” he growls between clenched teeth. “We’re in this together. We started this. We endure, and we finish!”
His hands squeeze my shoulders so hard it hurts and a jolt of fear surges through me at his hard gaze, but it gives me a very much needed rush of adrenaline. I nod at north-east. Up along the ravine.
“If we go that way, we’ll either find a place to cross, or we’ll come across the main road sooner or later.”
He regards me. “Upstream it is then.”
As we continue in the new direction, along the steep edge, I glance at him. I have hated this man with every fiber in my body and now… I don’t anymore. I couldn’t have done this alone. Even with the car, the worry for Cece… I can’t imagine having no one to share it with.
“Christian, I want to— thanks fo—”
I scream as I lose my footing and begin to slide down the steep slope. I keep screaming as I stop with a violent jerk when something hooks onto my clothing, but I lose my grip on Cecilia and she is jerked out of my arms and continues down the slope.
A little mewling packet in a checkered red blanket.
“Ceeee!”
Christian is a blur as he flies past me and disappears over the edge at the same moment as Cece.
For a second everything is absolutely still and quiet. Then I tear my jacket to shreds when I free it from the root it has stuck on and slide down to the edge. I’m absolutely numb. Not a thought, not one emotion comes through in my dazed mind.
Then I hear a cry and a roar and Cecilia is suddenly pushed up right next to me. I grab her little body, holding her tight. She’s crying, terrified, cold and wet. I can’t separate her shrieks from my own wailing as I clutch her to my chest, waiting for Christian to climb back up.
I lose track of time as my mind replays over and over how she slid and disappeared. The pain is indescribable, and my brain doesn’t stop the screams of terror until long after my mouth has gone silent.
Chapter 9
Kerry
Finally, I lift my head and look around me. Where did Christian go?
Everything is still and the forest gets increasingly dusky and silent.
“Christian,” I say, hesitantly. Everything is quiet. I clutch Cecilia hard to my chest and stand carefully for the first time since I fell. “Christian!” A little louder. No answer. Did he leave us? A claw of a new kind of fear nips at my already battered heart. “Christian!” I cry and Cecilia stirs in my arms.
A ghostly echo rolls over the mountain. That’s the only answer I’m getting.
I stand absolutely still, at a loss as to what to do. I don’t understand. Slipping and sliding, I fight my way up the slope. Then I wedge Cecilia behind a rock, making sure she lies safely before I, with violently trembling legs, walk all the way down to the edge. The ravine is cold, beautiful, and quiet. On the bottom I see the river hurling cold black water over pointy rocks. The sight makes me physically ill. Where is Christian? I lie down prone and slide further to look over the edge, terrified I’ll fall if I go too far. I follow the trail of rushing water and then something disrupts the vision, a speck on the cliffs. Frowning, I stare at the object. Realization comes slowly, it’s as if my mind is as unmoving as the world around me.
It’s a ski cap.
It’s a red ski cap. Christian wears a red ski cap.
Wore.
A wave of dizziness rolls over me and I hold on hard not to topple over. I stare at the piece of fabric and it blurs as tears fill my eyes.
He fell.
He’s gone.
I’m alone.
In this desolate, darkening forest, I’m suddenly left alone. My heart pounds so hard it feels as if my chest is going to explode and I struggle to inhale. I panic when I can’t feel my hands and stare at them, clenching and unclenching them to try to find them again, to see if they’re still attached to my body. And then I realize he’s gone! I don’t know what to do. Still on my knees, the cold and wet has started to leak through to my skin and a shudder ripples across my back. A whimper from behind the rock higher up on the slope startles me.
Get up, Kerry. Get up! You continue. And you finish!
His words ring in my ears as I struggle back up to Cecilia, lift her from her cold cradle and start walking, turning my back to him, wherever he is. Dead. I shake my head and keep walking. He’s dead, Ker. My legs march to the rhythm of my heart, faster, faster, downward, faster. He’s gone. Heavy weight in my arms. Walk. Walk. Walk. Focus. I try to grab onto some of his strength, repeating his words, his last testament to us.
Continue. Finish.
I lose track of time. I don’t feel anything but the little body I’m carrying, the burning exhaustion in my legs, back, arms, and the numbing cold. I know we’re going to die out here too. And it’s all my fault. I made the decision to move here. I made all the wrong decisions.
Darkness falls and the air is getting increasingly chilly. What should have taken a few hours has taken the whole day. I stagger and stumble. I can’t continue. I’m lost. It’s no use. We’ll die. I can’t even muster enough energy to care.
“Kerry?”
I’m dreaming someone’s calling my name. I don’t recognize the voice. A man’s voice. Funny. I would have thought it’d be my father, or one of my grandparents. Not some stranger. I fall on my knees, I think I’m still holding on to Cecilia, but I can’t feel my arms anymore. I can’t feel my body.
“He’s dead,” I croak.
“Ray’s dead?” Another voice.
Ray? Who’s Ray?
“Let me take her.” Someone takes the weight out of my arms and I clutch the air, knowing I’ve lost something important.
“Get her in the car.”
“Careful.”
“Kerry! Kerry! We need to know! Where’s Ray?”
I think I know that voice. Anderson. Mr. Anderson. Ste—Stephan? Yes. Stephan. I see the partly snow-covered shape before my eyes. “Cabin,” I whisper.
“Steve! Take’em to the hospital. Fast as fuck. They’re frozen blue. We’ll go find Ray.”
I’m moving, rocking, a hummin
g sound, soothing. A car? Cece!
“She’s right next to ya, Kerry. We’re takin’ you to the hospital. Ya’re lucky to be alive.”
I didn’t even know I’d said something.
Cold. I’m so cold.
Light.
I close my eyes again. I squint hard and open one eye just a tiny crack. Light! I close it again.
Someone’s sitting on my chest. I inhale, try to inhale, try to expand my chest, but it’s impossible. Then I fight to breathe through the eruption of coughs that follow. I need to open my eyes. Who’s sitting on my chest?
Light. Hard, white light. Snow? No. Not snow. White ceiling.
I’m alone. If no one’s sitting on my chest, then why does it feel so heavy? A soft, steady beeping penetrates my chilled mind and a stream of cool air fills my nostrils. Panicking, I tear at my face and end up with a thin plastic cord between my fingers.
“Kerry.” The voice is soft, female, caring. “Kerry.”
I open my eyes to stare at a woman I’ve never seen before, and a white ceiling I have seen before. I recognize her voice. I’ve heard it in my dreams. Cecilia! I gasp and try to sit up but her hand is stronger. “Ce—” I rasp. I cough myself sweaty and not until my chest calms down can I hear her again.
“She’s doing fine, Kerry. She’s in the pediatric ICU but she’s a strong girl, she’s doing fine.” She reattaches the cord to my face and adjusts it. “Don’t take this off, honey. You need the oxygen.”
“I need to see her!”
“You need to get well, but we’ll arrange for her to be brought here. You’re far worse off than her. You’re lucky to be here.”
I stare at her. I’m not the one who’s ill.
“What?”
“When they brought you in you were critically hypothermic and you have bilateral pneumonia. We had to support your breathing the first night.”
The first…?
I try to sit up again but she holds me down. “You need to take it easy, love. You need your rest.” She adjusts something where bags of fluids are connected to lines that disappear into bandages on my arms. “We’ll bring her to you a little later today, okay?”
Russo Saga Collection Page 92
