Tortured

  “Mom?” Keenan’s big blue eyes blinked up at me, and he still held my hand despite the fact we were toeing the edge of the playground.

  I assembled a smile. “I’m okay. Go have fun.”

  He stuck beside me for another minute before dashing off toward the swings. He didn’t resurface from his endless craze of play until two hours later, when he came back starving and thirsty. After scarfing down his lunch, guzzling a bottle of water, and stretching out in the grass for a whole minute and a half, he took off back to the playground, refreshed and ready to go.

  I’d brought a book to read and some kindergarten pamphlets I’d picked up from a few local schools, but I found myself more interested in watching him. His innocence was so unabashed, so infinite-seeming. It was so unfair how quickly that could be taken away. How fleeting it really was.

  “Good day for the park.” A shadow moved behind me and cut through the sun.

  I was familiar enough with the voice that I didn’t need to look back. “Every day’s a good day for the park.” I thought of the day I’d brought Keenan here a couple weeks ago, letting him stay until after dark.

  “I haven’t seen much of Crew around lately.” Gina took a seat beside me on the bench, waving at one of her daughters, who was chasing Keenan. Who looked rightly horrified. Any spawn of Gina Meyers one was wise to avoid.

  “He’s been gone. For work,” I added, not really caring what people in the community knew. The truth. The lie. They’d believe what they wanted no matter what I told them. I knew that from experience.

  “How much longer will he be gone?”

  “A couple more weeks, I think.” The timeframe made my throat constrict. Two weeks could take forever. Two weeks could pass in an instant.

  She was quiet for a moment, staring into the park blankly. “Can you believe those bloodsuckers parked out front of Brecken’s house like that? You’d think they’ve gotten enough from him, but I guess there’s always more, right?” Gina glanced at her nails. They looked shiny and freshly manicured. She started to pick at the crimson paint, one nail at a time. “Have you talked with any of them yet?”

  My forehead creased. “Why would I do that?”

  Her youngest daughter was calling for her, asking her to watch before she went down the big slide. Gina never once looked up from her nails. “You know, with you guys being so serious before.”

  My hands curled in my lap. “No. And I’d prefer if they never find that out.”

  Gina’s head turned toward me. She watched me for a moment, searching. The thing about Gina was that she’d spent her whole life living life in a puddle—she didn’t know the first thing about what an ocean looked like.

  “Did you see the article that came out today? The one about him and the other POWs?” she asked, still working at her nails.

  “No,” was all I answered.

  “Probably for the best. If I could go back in time and unsee those pictures and unread those words, I would.” She gave a shiver. “It’s crazy to think how much the human body can endure, you know? Makes me look back on childbirth and wonder why the hell I did all that screaming.”

  My hands clasped then unclasped in my lap. I’d known the first article would be published today in one of the major national magazines, before the newspaper article, then the television interview would go public. I’d already prepared myself, knowing I had no intention of reading or watching any of them. I knew enough. I didn’t need to know it all.

  “I have a hell of a lot more respect for Brecken Connolly after reading that than I did before.” She pulled her phone from her purse, checking it. Whatever she found made her frown. “That’s a man who wouldn’t just leave someone behind without telling her he was leaving? He’s the one who’d lay down his life for his woman, you know? He sure as hell wouldn’t forget to drop her a line to let her know he was thinking about her. Or that he’d left and when he’d be back.” Gina combed her chipped nails through her styled hair, raking at it until she’d twisted it into a messy bun on the top of her head.

  It should have been more obvious. I should have figured it out before now. But I’d been too busy trying to stay out of Crew’s business, rather than trying learn about any more of it.

  The wife was sitting next to the mistress. I didn’t need to ask her to confirm it—she was confirming it in every other way. When other wives might have let loose on the woman they’d just learned had become an “extracurricular activity” in her husband’s life, I felt … nothing. Maybe some curiosity as to how long it had been going on, some wonder if her husband had any idea, even a bit of sadness, though not for myself. For her. Did he hit her too? Would he eventually? Did she know about his drinking? Had she fallen for the man only to be stuck with the monster, as I had?

  Watching Keenan run around the playground, healthy, happy, and alive, some of the guilt from the past melted away. Crew didn’t deserve my guilt, no matter the offense.

  “We’d better head out. I’ll have to get dinner started sometime today.” Gina stood, blinking to clear her eyes.

  My gaze moved to her. My husband’s mistress. “Say hello to Jerry for me, will you?”

  She slid her purse onto her shoulder, kicking off the wedges she had on. “I sure will.” Leaning down to pick up the shoes, she hollered at her girls that they were leaving.

  “He’s a lucky man. Be sure to tell him that for me.”

  When Gina glanced at me, I was all smiles, but I thought she could see what was behind it. She yelled for her girls, who were still glued to the monkey bars, before starting to leave.

  The park went back to being peaceful after that, and as promised, I didn’t push Keenan to leave until he told me he was ready. The kid had days of energy to work off, and he’d made that his mission.

  It wasn’t dark when we left the park this time, but it was dusk. We’d left because he was hungry and he’d demolished the last of the snacks a few hours ago. A couple of news vans were still staged outside of Brecken’s house, but no one noticed us this time. However, I noticed something new in his front lawn. Flowers. Bundles of them laid out, stacked on top of each other, the way you saw on the news when someone famous had died or there’d been some awful tragedy. It took me a moment to realize why the front of Brecken’s yard was covered in flowers—the article. I was probably the only person in the community who hadn’t read it, and those who had were moved enough to leave flowers for him. He hadn’t died, but there’d been a tragedy. It felt like there was no end to it.

  After Keenan ate a grilled cheese sandwich, he started to fall asleep at the dinner table. He’d finally worn himself out. Collecting him in my arms, I carried him up to his bedroom, taking extra care on the stairs. All of my bruising was gone, except for the worst on my side and the marks on my back. With Crew gone, no new ones had been added. Today had been the first time in years I’d been able to wear something short-sleeved. The feel of air moving across my arms, the tickle of my son’s hair as his head lolled to the side, I felt free. I’d found freedom even while living in the confines of a cage.

  It gave me hope for the future. Hope that I could endure whatever came.

  After tucking him in, I waited for the text. Brecken usually waited until nine or ten to sneak over, waiting until it was dark and quiet outside. Most nights, Keenan was still awake, so he could spend time with him too. He’d be upset in the morning when he realized he’d fallen asleep before he could play with his real-life superhero, but there was tomorrow night. And the one after that.

  I stopped when I realized I didn’t want to count how many we had left. Not many.

  The text came in a little after ten. It asked me to meet him in the backyard. That was a first, but I didn’t think much of it. Brecken had been doing a lot of things out of the ordinary lately. Leaving his house several times a day, giving vague answers when I asked him what he’d been up to. He’d been working on something, though I didn’t know what.

  Turning off the back porch light, I moved out i
nto the yard, letting my eyes adjust. Before they did, his hand formed around mine.

  “Do you listen to every man who asks you to meet him in a dark backyard late at night?”

  His voice instantly made me smile. “Only the really insane, deranged ones.”

  His lips pressed into my temple before he led me across the dark yard. “Good to know.”

  “What are we doing?” I glanced down his driveway toward the street. There were a couple of vans still there, but it was quiet. No reporters milling around the sidewalks.

  “I’m showing you what I’ve been doing during my days when I can’t be with you, thanks to them.” He gave the vans in the street the side-eye before stopping in front of his garage tucked back at the end of the driveway. He crouched to grab the door handle then lifted it slowly. Even slower when it made a couple of creaks.

  I held my breath, checking the street again. Nothing.

  Once Brecken had opened the big garage door, he flipped on the lights, grabbed my hand, and pulled me inside. He didn’t say anything until he’d closed the big door again.

  When he waved at what was taking up most of the space, my forehead creased. “You got a new car?”

  His arms fell at his sides. “No. This isn’t for me.” He came around the front end; he’d backed the car into the garage to make it easier to pull out. “This is for you.”

  “You got me a new car?” My forehead creased deeper.

  “It’s not exactly new, but yeah, it’s for you.” He patted the hood and stopped in front of me.

  It was a silver Honda four-door. Nothing flashy or fancy, but it had that reliable, I’ll-never-let-you-down look. Compared to having no car, it was like being given a Ferrari or something, but I wasn’t sure where he was going with this. Brecken was smart—he knew he couldn’t just buy me a car.

  “What’s this for, Brecken?”

  Grabbing my hand, he led me around to the trunk. When he popped it open, my hand went to my stomach.

  “This is for the worst case. Isn’t it?” My eyes ran over the items stuffed in the back: sleeping bags, pillows, bottled water, food, clothes … a first aid kit. My feet slid back. “I don’t want to think about that.”

  He guided me forward again. “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be prepared for it.”

  I thought about what this car meant, what kind of a hopeless situation I’d have to be in to use it. “If I have to use this car, that means I’m having to run. I can’t run. We’ve talked about this. He’ll find us. He’ll take Keenan away from me.” My voice broke every few words, my eyes fixed on the car seat he’d thought to have buckled into the backseat already.

  “He’s not taking Keenan away from you. You hear me?” He stepped in front of me, his hands cupping my face. “Whatever worst case it might come to, it will never come to that. I give you my word.”

  “You can’t be sure—”

  His eyes lowered directly in front of mine. “I will kill him before I let it come to that.” He didn’t blink, his voice didn’t waver. “I will end him before I let him try to take your son away from you. That’s how sure I am that no matter what, you’re not going to be separated from Keenan.”

  He didn’t let me go. He held my face, his eyes comforting mine, until I felt an overwhelming sense of relief, followed by gratitude. Setting aside what he’d just sworn to me, having this car available and stocked provided a level of peace I hadn’t expected to find in the midst of this mess.

  “The key will be in this drawer.” Brecken led me around to the side of the garage where a few shelves had been built into the wall. He opened the middle drawer of his toolbox to show me where he’d hidden the key. “You’ll need to grab that, and this …” He crouched to pull an old metal coffee container from the bottom shelf, then he popped off the lid. What I saw inside made my breath hitch. “Don’t forget it. I stuffed some money into the glove box, but this will get you much farther.”

  It wasn’t a small coffee tin. It was one of the big ones. The kind grandparents used to keep on their kitchen counter. It was stuffed with money. Rolls of it. Mostly tens and twenties, but I’d seen some fives and fifties rolls inside too. There was tens of thousands of dollars in that coffee can.

  “Brecken, I couldn’t—”

  “You better.”

  It wasn’t just the money though. It was the thought of leaving … him.

  “You need to be able to take care of Keenan and yourself. You’re going to need this to get away.”

  “But what about you?” My teeth sank into my lip. “You can come with us.”

  He snapped the lid back on the tin and shoved it back onto the bottom shelf. “In the event I’m not able to though, you need to be ready.”

  He didn’t say anything else; he didn’t have to. I knew what it meant if he couldn’t escape with us.

  He opened the passenger door and sat down so he could show me the contents of the glove box. Inside was a roll of money, a few maps, a cell phone with its charger, and a couple of passports. One for me and one for Keenan. They weren’t real, but they looked real enough. Knowing Brecken, they’d be real enough to get us through airport security too. My eyes welled when I realized that he’d given me back my wings. One man had clipped them—this one had fixed them.

  “How did you do all of this? How did you have time for it all?” It had only been a couple of weeks. This sort of plan seemed like it would takes months to put together. “Giving interviews, working out, spending all night with us, being the world’s hero?”

  Brecken closed the glove box. “I never asked to be the world’s hero. All I ever wanted was to be yours.”

  My heart ached until my hand connected with his. “You are.” I gave a little tug, and he moved out of the car. “You always have been.”

  Tying my other fingers through his, I lifted up to kiss him. He let me set the pace, standing there holding my hands at his sides as I attempted to thank him with the conviction of my lips. When I leaned back a while later, his eyes stayed closed, a peaceful look on his face.

  “We’ve only got a little more time together.” The space between his eyebrows slowly creased. “Are you sure you don’t want to run away now? We’ve got plenty of money that could keep us good and invisible for a long time. Keenan, you, and me.” His eyes opened, searching mine. “He’d never find us.”

  If this was a fairy tale, as it so often felt when I was with him, my answer would be yes. But this wasn’t a fairy tale, this was the opposite, so my answer could only take one shape. He read the answer in my eyes before I spoke it.

  “I’d do it if it was just Crew and me and you, but it’s not.” His fingers tensed around mine. “Keenan. I have to do what’s right for him. Running away isn’t. I can’t risk what could happen. I won’t risk it.”

  If we did what Brecken was suggesting, someone would pay with their life. Whether it was Crew’s physical one, the rest of Brecken’s spent behind bars, or Keenan’s spent on the run or in the clutches of a monster for the next decade and a half, someone would pay a dear price. Staying would cost me, but it was a price I’d already paid. One I was willing to keep paying.

  “Staying isn’t the right solution either, Camryn.” His hand lifted to my hairline, tracing the fading mark from my fall down the stairs.

  “Even when you have two bad choices, you still have to make a choice. Staying is the better of the two.”

  His mouth opened, but he clamped it closed, swallowing whatever he’d been about to say. A storm rolled through his eyes before he let out a long breath. “Thirteen years?”

  The corner of my mouth twitched. “It always goes by faster than it seems like it will.”

  He pulled me to him, one arm tying around me at a time. It felt like the same kind of embrace he used to pull me into when he was about to ship out for a deployment. “I’m not worried about the time. I’m worried about what I’ll do if he puts his hands on you again.”

  I felt his jaw clench beside my head. “Well, don’t t
urn thirteen years into a life sentence please.”

  His hold tightened before he let me go. Holding hands, we moved toward the front of the garage.

  As he opened up the garage door, as slowly and quietly as before, I added, “I can deal with living with Crew for now. I can’t handle having to live without you forever.”

  When the door was open, before we stepped out into the night, he turned to face me. “No matter what, I’ll always be with you.”

  My throat constricted, realizing what he was saying. I’d lost him once. I wasn’t losing him again. No matter what, he wasn’t sacrificing any more of himself.

  My hand settled over his heart. “I know.”

  It was the middle of the night. The spot beside me was cool, the depression of his body barely noticeable. He was at the window again, but this time he wasn’t looking inside; he was staring outside. His whole body was tense, like he was standing guard and expecting the enemy.

  “Come to bed. Please.” I brushed the hair out of my face and dropped my hand onto the spot on mattress where he’d been when I’d fallen asleep.

  After leaving the garage, he’d carried me up to my guest room, took off my clothes one piece at a time, his mouth tasting every part of me as he did, then he’d laid me down and moved inside me in the same restrained, unhurried way. As soon as either one of us got close, he’d stop, wait until the rush had receded, and continue. When I did finally come, it was the most powerful thing I’d ever felt. I’d somehow managed to feel as though I was the single most invincible creature on the planet and, at the same time, the most fragile. I shattered around him at the same time I fused back together.

  I could still feel him moving inside me, still hear his breath outside of my ear.

  “I trust you. Come to bed.”

  His body only seemed to further cement to his perch at the window.

  I knew I couldn’t fall back asleep just as much as I knew he wasn’t close to caving to my request, so I slid out of bed and padded out of the room.

  “Camryn?”