Page 1 of Absolution

Sacrifice

One

Christian

Finding Kerry and Cecilia again is a lot more complicated than I’d have ever thought.

Have I changed?

Or do I just keep destroying?

I struggle against the wind next to her, slipping in the mud, trembling from the cold, and the shock of waking up only a few moments ago to find the front door slammed open, ice cold gusts of wind whirling through the room. Far off in the darkness I see the little light in the kitchen window. Too far. I can’t believe she took the risk of taking Cecilia out in this weather. In the middle of the fucking night! I should’ve just kept her tied up and saved myself the trouble. She’s so fucking stubborn. I have to admire her incredible strength, and I must admit my defeat, at the very least to myself. I’ve underestimated her.

Again.

History repeats itself.

When we’re finally inside, I slam the door closed behind us, drowning us in darkness. Kerry stumbles and falls to her knees. At this very moment I don’t give a shit about how she feels, but I do care about the little life next to her

“Let her go now, Kerry.”

She’s too weak to protest and, freeing Cecilia from Kerry’s clutch, I unwrap the blanket and assess her status. Her cheeks are rosy and she’s fast asleep, only stirring slightly when I push a tendril of dark hair off her cheek. She smells outdoorsy, fresh. I don’t want to wake her, so I only take off the thickest clothes and then carefully place her back in her crib. I study the little person, something warm flaring in my chest, warmth that turns to black heat as I think about Kerry endangering her out there. I stalk back out to her mother who is still sitting on her knees on the cold floor, wet, with twigs, leaves and some mud on her jacket and in her hair, tears streaming down her face.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

She answers with a sob.

I sway. As the adrenaline slips away, I realize how foggy my mind is. I don’t recognize myself, and that I’d sleep through her leaving the house is extremely unlikely. My heart speeds up as fury fills me. The coffee. The overly sweetened coffee.

“Did you drug me?” I grab her hard by her nape, forcing her to look at me. “Answer me!”

All she does is wail and I let her go with a push that sends her tumbling to the floor. I have to occupy myself with something or I’ll hurt her, so I go to the only person in this house who doesn’t hate me. My little miracle of a daughter.

She’s breathing regularly, her skin is warm and has good color. She seems all right. When I turn, I almost bump into Ker who’s standing in the doorway, hunched, swaying.

“How is she?” Her voice quavers.

“What do you care?” I growl and push at her chest to get her out of my way. I flinch when she grabs my arm.

“It’s a prescription, Christian. For her. From when she was a baby. It isn’t dangerous. I’m sorry.” Her voice trails off.

I swallow and my dry throat rasps. I have slept too little in the last few days, but I feel dizzy in an uncomfortable way that I can’t seem to get rid of. I grab her wrist hard and twist it, backing her out into the main room. She winces but doesn’t try to free herself.

“What the fuck do I do with you?” I snarl, forcing her down on her knees before me. I want to shake her, slap her, but I fight it. I don’t want to hurt Kerry again.

Kerry

“I hoped you’d sleep. That it’d make you sleep deeper… that’s all… I didn’t try to kill you, Christian,” I sob.

He’s silent and then he barks out a laugh. “Did you try to drug a full-grown man with stuff prescribed for a baby?”

“Why didn’t you just sleep?” I cry.

“It’s fucking hard, sweetheart, with the front door wide open to a storm. You should’ve done a better job closing it. Why the hell did you try to go out there? It’s insane.”

“W—why?” I look up at him, sitting back on my heels. “Why? I only did what every sane person would do in my place!”

“What? Go out into a storm with a baby in the middle of the night? In a car that’s not going anywhere?”

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