Page 93 of Absolution

Twenty-Three

Kerry

Christian, tall, dark and with a frightening look of held-back rage and determination on his face, carrying a little girl dressed in a yellow dress, white socks, and a white cardigan. In the early evening, with the sun setting in the background, it’s a surreal vision. Cecilia’s brown locks bounce as she looks around her and then fixates her eyes on me.

“Mama!” she raises her chubby little arms and in the next moment I clutch her to my chest. It’ll take a long time for the wounds from today to mend, the hole it ripped in me too deep, but right now everything is perfect. I pat her down, lift her cardigan, frantic to see that she’s okay.

“She’s fine, Kerry.” Christian’s voice is calm, and it makes my racing heart slow a little.

I look up at him. He’s standing so close I can smell him, almost feel his body heat. “Thank you,” I whisper.

He moves in and lays his strong arms around us, a promise of protection, of never letting go. “Always,” he chokes out.

“Christiano.” Salvatore’s voice makes us both jerk. “We’ve got work to do.”

“Be right with you,” says Christian, then he turns back to me, dropping his arms. “Kerry. Evan, is it Evan Jackson?”

My lips are numb as I answer, and it feels as if all blood drains from my face. “Evan Thomas Linden.” At the look of surprise on his face, I add, “I changed back to my maiden name.”

Christian nods, his face grim.

“Christian!” I gasp, “Don’t hurt him!”

“What?”

“Let me take her, Kerry.” Carmen’s voice to my right makes me spin around. She reaches for Cecilia.

I stare at her, then back at Christian. “No.” I don’t know who I’m answering.

“Kerry!”

Both speak at the same time, and it’s just too much, it feels as if my brain is going to explode. I let Carmen take Cecilia and rush toward Christian, grabbing his shirt.

“Don’t kill him!”

“You don’t get to make that decision,” he growls, his nostrils flaring as he looks down on me, his eyes are hard and cold.

I let him go as if I had burned myself, tightening my hands into fists. “Please! He was…” My voice breaks. “He doesn’t deserve—”

“He deserves pain and fucking death! Look at what he did! He did that, Kerry! He put you through that!”

“You said you’d changed,” I whisper, unable to hold back the tears, “but you’re just the same. Always.”

My legs are heavy as lead as I make my way back to the front porch of Carmen’s beautiful house. Behind her stands her husband Lucas with three little kids clutching his legs, staring wide-eyed at the scene on their front yard.

“Kerry!” Christian’s voice is commanding and pleading at the same time.

I don’t turn. Carmen hands me Cecilia again. Lucas and the little ones make way as I walk inside.

“Mama,” says Cecilia and I bury my nose in her nape. “Everything’s all right now, baby. The bad men are gone.”

The door falls closed behind us, and for a moment everything is silent, then one of Carmen and Lucas’ kids comes running. “I’m Benjamin,” says the little three-year-old.

Cecilia’s head snaps around, her mouth falling open as she takes in all the people. She reaches for Benjamin who takes her hand.

“Wanna see my Legos?” he asks.

“Mama,” says Cecilia, “I have Lego.”

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