Page 24 of Perilous Healing

“No. And I didn’t ask. I am asking you. As your friend and someone who wants to make sure you’re both operating with full transparency.”

I sigh, knowing I owe him an explanation. After checking to make sure Eloise is distracted with her dolls, softly humming to herself as she has them dance around, I lean in and lower my voice. “When I was being held, I’d come to the understanding that I was going to die. I knew it without a second thought, that each time they came to pull information from me could be my last. And then, one night, a man showed up in my cell. He told me that he was there to rescue me, but that he couldn’t guide me out. He told me which direction to run and that the door would be unlocked. Then he unshackled me. And as soon as I could stand up, he slipped out.” I remember the day like it was yesterday—the stench of the cell, the sound of water dripping down the stone walls…the feel of my bare feet against the concrete floor. “As I was leaving, I heard a woman yell right before two of Culvers’ guards came out. They were going to kill her, I knew that much, and I had this feeling that I needed to save her, too. That I needed to get her out. So I did.”

Lance remains silent as I finish up my coffee and pour another cup, topping off his as well.

“I was injured badly, and she stitched me up a couple times. We ran for weeks. Living off of what game we could find and whatever fresh water we managed to get ahold of. It was just the two of us for weeks,” I tell him. “Feelings were bound to blossom. We kissed. Once. Then two guards found us and nearly killed us before my cousin’s search and rescue team showed up to rescue us.”

“I remember you saying your cousins pulled you out.”

“They’d just gotten their company off the ground, and we were their first rescue.” My cousins—five brothers on my mom’s side—opened up their own search and rescue company out of Texas. They find what no one else can, and my sister had them looking for me.

“So they pulled you out.”

“Right after I’d found out that the woman I’d been protecting, the one I rescued, was the daughter of the same man who slaughtered my entire team and tortured me for weeks.”

“Bianca didn’t get to choose her father.”

“No,” I admit. “But she could have told me.”

Lance considers. “What would you have done, if you’d known who she was? Would you have left her there to die?”

Save her.Even now the words come rushing back to me. “No. I would have pulled her out anyway.”

“And if she’d told you after you rescued her. Would you have killed her for who she was?”

I think that’s what stings the most, though, is that even after the weeks of us being together, of my protecting her and us relying only on each other, she still didn’t trust me enough to tell me. “No.”

“Look, Bianca grew up in a world that was kill or be killed, yet when it came down to surviving or taking the easy way out and remaining with her father, she chose to leave and survive on her own. I’m not saying what she did was right. I’m not a fan of lies, but forgiving her is going to be the first step in moving forward.”

“I’m working on it.”

“I know you’ve struggled with your faith for a long time, but if you want to pray about it, I’m here.”

There’s a heaviness that settles over my heart that I can’t explain, so I rub the palm of my hand against my chest. “I don’t.”

“When that changes, I’ll still be here.”

Chapter8

Bianca

One Week Later

Afresh coat of paint always feels like such a victory. And rolling the final coat of paint over my ceiling feels good. It’s been a week since it caved in on me, and the repair is finally finished, thanks to Silas and Felix. They’ve been working practically nonstop. Lance helped as he could, as did Michael and Elijah, but most of the work has definitely been Silas.

He’s up on a ladder now, fixing a recessed light that was damaged during the storm, and I have to actively force my attention away from him. The man captures my attention unlike anyone else.

I’ve even been praying about it.

Asking for guidance when it comes to my feelings for him. And even though I’ve gotten a lot closer to God since Pastor Redding gave me the old, worn Bible I’ve been studying, there still hasn’t been a clear answer.

But I keep praying while I focus on rebuilding myself as a woman of faith. Honestly, I’ve been praying about everything lately. Every time a thought enters my mind that makes me anxious or angry, I pray.

Letting go of the anger is a big one for me, and while I’m still not there yet, I know I’m getting closer. I can feel that my heart is lighter, my soul less weary.

“Done.” Silas climbs down the ladder and sets the now empty box on the counter.

“Looks good, thanks.”

---