Page 28 of Absolution

“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.

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