Page 53 of Reckoning

Meyer

I didn’t like to break promises. I hadn’t read Madeline’s letter, after all. So when I told her I’d join her later, I meant it. But it wasn’t later that night.

Joshua came into the room after she left, shaking his head at the glass in my hand but pouring himself a drink all the same.

“You could go yourself, you know. I don’t have to be the one who takes her.”

I sucked in a breath, quelling the anger that rose in me at the thought of him taking her away. Only a day ago, I’d resigned myself to die, believing that killing myself was the best way to escape this madness and keep her safe.

I’d had the same thought the night I brought her home, paralyzed with anxiety and darkness that had seeped too deeply into my soul to ever be washed out. The night I tried to kill myself so I wouldn’t have to go through the pain of hurting something so beautifully breakable.

She was passed out on the floor of my bedroom, blood still leaking out the side of her mouth. I crouched next to her, checking that she was truly unconscious, then licked my finger and wiped away the stain. She didn’t deserve to be marked like that. And if she stayed with me, she’d only be hurt again.

In hindsight, the mistake was texting Joshua. I didn’t have time to leave him proper instructions, so I shot off a message right as I started to take the pills. Take care of her. That was all it said. But I’d only downed half of what I’d planned to before he burst into the bathroom, shoving his fingers down my throat and forcing me to spill my guts into the toilet. I never even lost consciousness.

And when I woke up in the morning from a fretful sleep, I had no choice but to hurt her.

So I wrote the note to Joshua and kept it safe, only sneaking it into his jacket pocket when I knew it was time for me to go. This time, the wrench in the plan was Madeline.

And in the end, none of it mattered.

I cleared my throat. “We can’t leave. You said it yourself. He’d hunt us down even if it cost him everything.”

“Then kill him.” Joshua looked at me as he said it, but I avoided his eyes. He’d proposed this before, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last time.

“You’re a piece of shit. I should fire you.” I dropped into the chair and extended my legs, letting my feet warm in front of the fire. The taste of Maddie’s blood lingered on my tongue.

He walked over and stopped in front of me, holding out his fist. I stared into the fire until all I could see was the flare burned into my retinas. Raising my hand, he dropped a nearly weightless pill into my palm. I swallowed it with the whiskey, and the last taste of her was finally washed away. He cleared his throat in bewilderment.

“I should try to be healthy,” I grumbled, not wanting any more shit from him. I can’t take care of her if I’m dead.

“No argument. I’m just surprised.” He dragged a chair across the floor and positioned it next to mine before finally settling with his drink, mimicking my pose as he stretched his legs. “Do you love her?”

The glass paused millimeters from my lips; I closed my mouth and rested my mouth against my finger instead. I was suddenly too hot, and I leaned forward to turn off the gas. Immediately, the heat from the fireplace dissipated, and my body rejoiced in the cooler air. I sat back in my chair, downing my remaining liquor.

“I don’t know what that word means.”

His heavy exhale was the only sound in the room. He copied me, draining his own glass, then set it on the bar as he rose and buttoned his jacket. “Stop selling yourself short, Meyer. I’ve known you a long time. Any other woman would be gone by now. You’d have handed her to your father just to keep him from bothering you about her.” He stood beside my chair, too close for comfort, looming over me until I looked up at him. “He’s going to come for her no matter what you do. You know he never intended to let you have her. Kill him or disappear. Those are your only options.” He left the room as silently as he had entered it.

My fingernail pinged against the empty crystal as I sat alone. A bodyguard who only cared as long as I was paying him slept in one bedroom while a woman I’d sworn to destroy waited in another.

Growing up, I was constantly reminded of how wholly my life was controlled by my father. I’d tried many times to extricate myself over the years. Misbehavior at school didn’t get me sent to boarding school as I’d hoped, only more lashes with a belt buckle. I submitted myself for the Major League draft the day of my eighteenth birthday, but Conrad had cornered me when he found out and beat me with my own bat, eventually breaking my arm. Any hope of a baseball career went down the drain with the snap of that bone. He still kept the bat in his house, stained with my blood, as if it was some trophy he’d used to defeat a monster.

And now, was I willing to risk that much more just because Madeline had worked her way under my skin? No. Joshua was wrong; things would be fine if I just kept playing the game. If we disappeared, he’d hurt us both beyond what I could imagine. I had a better chance of keeping her safe right here. She’d have to learn to live like I did, sensing his moods and avoiding contact whenever possible, but at least we’d have each other. We’d survive as long as I could convince her this was better than running.

Throwing my shirt to the floor, I dropped onto the couch and kicked my shoes across the room, then sent my belt to the carpet as well. I’d go climb into bed with her once I was sure she was asleep, when she couldn’t ask me anymore questions, and I would be too tired to peel off her clothes. As I closed my eyes, I tried to imagine we were somewhere else. Anywhere. As long as Conrad didn’t exist.

*

Sleep came for me before I could make the decision to go to my bed, and it was probably for the best. I would have gone after her in my dreams, and I was too vulnerable to go any further than kissing. Even in my despair, I understood that. I went to see her before leaving for work, dressing quietly in the dark before leaning over her in the bed and brushing my nose across her cheek.

“You didn’t come last night,” she whispered, fully awake though her eyes were still closed. I let my own fall shut.

“I was afraid of what would happen.” Of what I would say.

“Meyer Schaf is never afraid.”

“I’m afraid all the time.” Shit, I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. My eyes flew open to find her staring at me in shock.

---