Page 194 of Saving Sparrow
He blinked, setting his canister down on the bed. “This is where you slept.”
“Yes,” I said, threading a hand through his hair.
“How did he treat you?” He seemed afraid of the answer.
I’d told him about the gatekeeper and his role, but not that I was ever Sparrow’s prisoner.
“Better by the end,” I admitted. Elliott touched the scar along my brow, and his trembling fingers smelled like gasoline.
He traced a few other scars I didn’t have before arriving here. “I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything to be sorry for. It wasn’t you.”
He looked so fragile and lost, yet he was here trying to be strong, trying to put an end to the pain. “Do you see him when you look at me? Do you see whatever he did to you?”
“No,” I said decisively. “All I see is everything he ever didforyou.” I’d forever be grateful to Sparrow, and I suspected I’d always miss him, too.
“What was his name?”
“Sparrow.” I believed he deserved to know the name of the man who’d protected him.
“You cared for him.” He searched my eyes for the truth.
“Yes.”
“Thank you,” Elliott breathed. He picked up one of the cards from the nightstand, reading it. “What’s your favorite color… What did he say?”
“Brown.” I grinned,heart hurting.
Elliott kissed the corners of my watery eyes. “Mine too.” There were a slew of unasked questions in his gaze. I tried to decipher them.Do you love Sparrow? Do you prefer him over me?
I wasn’t sure if I’d guessed right, but I answered them anyway. “You are who I want to spend my life with. You are the one I can’t live without. You are part of my forever and ever, Elliott.” This kiss was less frantic but just as urgent. It said we could survive anything together. It said time and circumstances hadn’t diminished our love. It said we’d come out of this stronger.
I grabbed the box of matches from the mantel, then we headed for the porch.
“Wait here,” I said once we got there. I ran back inside, jogging down hall after hall until I reached the basement. I hurried down, opening the hidden door in the wall.
I set the box of matches and canister down, then quickly removed the chunks of concrete covering Elijah and Sara’s grave. Sweaty and out of breath, I poured the remaining gasoline into the hole, then set it on fire. I wanted whatever may have been left of them burned to ash, leaving no traces behind.
I handed Elliott the matches once I’d stepped onto the porch. He lit one without hesitation, tossing it inside. The fire reached every corner, burning everything in its path as it spread its wings. Hopefully, the place would be nothing but cinders by the time anyone noticed.
We got into the car, watching until Elliott’d had his fill. “I’m ready to go home.”
“Our home is different now,” I warned. After leaving the hospital, I couldn’t go back to the house we’d exchanged our vows in. Not after everything that had happened there.
“My home is wherever my husbands are. Take me wherever we can be together.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said, choked up. “I’ll do my best.” We drove away, never once looking back.
Elliott slept the whole plane ride while I watched for signs he wasn’t himself. I had a feeling that would be our new normal. In between, I managed to find a psychologist and a physiatrist who both specialized in DID. I reached out to schedule an appointment.
After we landed, we headed straight for the facility Quentin had been in since his hospital release. I’d visited him only once. The nurses and staff were put under strict orders not to let me back in—not to let anyone in—and eventually, not to accept any calls. He’d pushed his mother away, too, but then so had I.
I spent weeks splitting my time between trying to break into the place and searching for Elliott. After my second arrest, I devoted all my energy to finding Elliott.
“He’s in a dark place,” I said from the parking lot. “He thinks he failed us, and he thinks he’s no good to anyone in the condition he’s in.”
“We’ll tell him that isn’t true. He’ll listen now that I’m back,” Elliott said, but I could tell he feared he might not be enough.
