Page 43 of The Bargaining Path


  ***

  That night after we ate dinner and put Penny to bed, James came up behind me in the living room and rubbed my arms quickly, warming me by creating friction.

  “It’s cold, sweetheart. You should put a shirt on.”

  I shook my head slightly and brought my hands up to grasp one of his that was still rested on my shoulder.

  “It didn’t go well today? He didn’t agree?” He asked me delicately, because he did not want me to think that he was gloating.

  “No, he didn’t agree. But that is not the point. He told me something about his past that is just gnawing at me. It makes me very sad. I will not tell you, because he told me in confidence, but I understand now why we have to fight. All those women and children up there. Plus, there are men, too, I am sure, who would like to leave but cannot. We have to help them, James.”

  I turned around to face him, and he kissed me softly.

  “I know.” He said, “For some of them, we’re the only hope they have. The Old Spirits will not give those people up easily. So we have to take them away by force. Then we have to kill the instigators in order to avoid retaliation. Then it’s over, baby. It’s just several hundred evil lives being erased by us, and then it’s over.”

  I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  “Hearing what Adam told me today made me so thankful for you. Despite a few hiccups, you treat me kindly. That is more than most, if not all, of those women can say up north. I am so fortunate that it was you who came for me in the bar that night and not a future Bachum supporter.”

  He smiled and kissed my palm after I placed it on his face.

  “Can you imagine me singing to the heavens with the Bachums? They would have heard my singing voice and sent us packing immediately.”

  I laughed and kissed him, bringing my other hand up to rest on his face. At first, my lips just grazed over his lightly, but when his hands slid up my arms to rest lightly on my face, I pressed my lips to his a little harder. Almost by its own will, my hand moved down, and one of my fingers looped into his belt and pulled. It was almost graceful how slowly my hands undid his belt and pulled it off. His breathing was deepening, and I had not even touched him yet. Instantly, I was reminded of when we had been in the training facility, and how it had been so obvious how starved he was for me. But even then, as I felt the familiar scratchiness of his beard as his lips moved down my neck, I wondered if he had been starved for sex or starved for me. As though he had heard my thoughts (and maybe he had, though I certainly had not intended him to hear), he kissed his way from my shoulder up to my ear and whispered, “I’ve missed you so much…” And that was enough of an answer.

  With the tips of my fingers, I pushed him onto the couch. Before his back had even touched the plush black leather, I was sitting in his lap, straddling him, up on my knees, with one knee on either side of his body. I took both of his hands and placed them on me, right underneath of my butt. As though I had given him the direction out loud, he pulled me closer to him so our bodies were pressed together, and then, he kissed me, and this time, my lips parted for his tongue. His heart was racing, and I could feel him stiffening through his jeans, so I unbuttoned and unzipped them, and slid my hand into his boxers. Though he was trying to go slowly, so as not to rush me too quickly and accidentally provoke one of my panic episodes, he reached out and unzipped my sweatshirt. I let go of him for one second so he could slip it and my tank top off. As my hands reached down to grasp him again, I kissed him, even harder and more passionately than before.

  “Are you sure, baby?” He asked me, and I nodded, looking into his light brown eyes, remembering how terribly I had missed him while he was gone. But then, as if in direct response to his question, the feeling of the cold air on my chest left me besieged by those brutal memories of what had happened in the woods. As my body began to tremble and my eyes squeezed shut, my own frustration began to berate me for being unable to let go. In his hands, my body tensed, and immediately, he began his attempt to calm me by grasping my face.

  “Look at me.” He said gently, but my eyes were squeezed so tightly shut, I feared I would never be able to pry them open. My breathing had quickened, and my mind was flooded with air, making me grow dizzier by the second. The rip down my shirt, the thorn-covered vine, the pain, the fear, the humiliation… Oh, the humiliation of it was the worst of all…

  “Brynna,” James rested his forehead against mine. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

  I just needed to see his face. To see that it was him with me and not those men who had so tormented me would quiet the panic within me and restore me back to a calmed and rational state. The episode would end. Slowly, my eyes opened, and I recognized in my mind that was speaking rapidly in a shaking voice that I feared opening my eyes and finding that it was not really him in front of me, that everything I had experienced since the attack had all been in my mind. It was in progress, happening in real time, and I was escaping from it with manufactured memories…

  It was so ridiculous to believe such an elaborate and unlikely scenario, but I believed it. I believed it with every inch of my heart until I opened my eyes and saw James there.

  Now, all the times we had tried to have sex after I had returned home had ended with me looking up at him, shaking my head, and generally, starting to cry immediately. Seeing that it was James over top of me and not one of my attackers did not solve the problem then, nor did James’s gentle reminders that I was safely back with him and that all the trauma through which I had suffered, whatever it may have been, was over.

  And that, as it turns out, was the key: Whatever it may have been. I had not told him then what had occurred. I had been unable to confide that in him because I had been so ashamed of it. Also, the weight of what had occurred still laid so heavily inside me, to a point that I could feel it firmly rooted between my heart and my stomach; in fact, it was there in the room, firmly rooted between James and me. It was a fresh, open wound that had not yet begun to clot. It weakened me by sickening me, and I could not release it because I could not speak of what had occurred out loud.

  But I had since confided in James, and when I opened my eyes and saw him, tears did begin to fall from my eyes, but not because we had to stop. It was because he really was there, and I really was alright. I had survived, and I knew that in complete certainty after doubting it for so long.

  Just as he began to speak, I closed the space between us and pressed my mouth to his, holding his face in both of my hands. When he pulled his shirt over his head, I pressed my chest against his as I kissed him, needing to feel that physical contact between my still healing, frail body and his strong, unbreakable one. I lifted my hips up so he could slide my pants and underwear off, and just before we started, we stopped kissing and looked at each other. Neither he nor I had the slightest urge to speak in that moment, for there was nothing to say. Truly, I do not know what it was that occurred there between us in that moment, but whatever it was, our hearts were calmed and focused, and my fear, humiliation, and shame were quieted. In the near-silence that they left, I was able to grab a hold of that desire for him that I felt so strongly, and in the most carnal response to it imaginable, I slid down onto him. My head tilted back, and I drew in a deep, slow breath as every inch of him filled me. When my hips began to dip down and push forward slowly and gracefully, I bit my lip, struggling to suppress my moans so as not to wake Penny.

  My body ground against his; my hands squeezed his firm back; my nails dug into his skin. My face was burrowed against his neck, and he held me tightly, breathing heavily as I thrust as quickly as my body would allow (which was not very quickly, but it was enough.) It took no time at all before I was moaning a little louder and squeezing him harder, and he was expelling a deep breath, and then we were resting, me still in his lap, our sweating bodies clasped together tightly still.

  It was a long time before he turned us sideways so we could lie on the couch. I was still latched to him, my head rested
against his chest. I took a moment just to breathe him in before I said anything. When I looked up at him, he kissed me slowly, gently, his fingers entwining themselves with mine.

  “Are you okay?” He asked me.

  I nodded, smiling when I looked up at him.

  “I am so glad that finally happened.” I said, and he laughed softly to himself.

  “You and me both.” He looked alarmed for a second, before he began to cover what he assumed was a statement that offended me. “Not that I was upset that we weren’t for a while, but I’m just…”

  “I know what you meant, honey.” I said, “Cool your jets.”

  He laughed softly and kissed me again.

  “All that excitement thinking that I am misunderstanding you, you will give yourself a heart attack.” I told him.

  “Do I look like I could have a heart attack? Me? The guy who has been nicknamed Captain America by his peers on security detail?”

  “You are very much like Captain America!” I informed him, “You were a scrawny, sickly little man on Earth, and then, somewhat magically, somewhat scientifically, you bulked up.”

  “Oh my God, I was certainly not Steve Rodgers, pre-serum!”

  “You totally were!” I told him, giggling, “But now, you are Steve Rodgers, post-serum! You are Captain America!”

  He picked me up, and as I always did, I exclaimed in surprise. I covered my mouth, giggling more hysterically than I had in weeks, as he carried me off to our bedroom.

  “I might be Captain America, but you, my dear, defy any pop culture character designation.” He laid me down on our bed and then plopped down on the mattress beside me.

  “Do I? I have been told that I am like Elizabeth Bennett, whom you know now is the strong-willed female protagonist of Pride and Prejudice. Or Hermione from Harry Potter.”

  “You certainly talk like Elizabeth Bennett, and you are very headstrong. You love to read and you’re freakishly intelligent like Hermione, and you take care of your siblings, also like Elizabeth Bennett. I can see that parallel, but you are also much more…”

  “Violent.” I said, “Murderous. Mean.”

  “I don’t know about mean; that’s not exactly the right word. But…” I raised my eyebrow and pursed my lips. “Yeah, it’s the right word. You’re right.” He yawned. “As always.”

  He laid down beside me, and I rolled on top of him to straddle his midsection.

  “I wish we could just stay home tomorrow, but you know how Don is. He’ll come knocking, ‘seeing if we’re alright.’” I overemphasized my cynical air-quotes as I always did, and James mimicked me, as he always did.

  “Plus, we need the crops. Have you looked in the pantry? We’re low on most everything. You know what we need to do on our off-day, though? Start planting the garden. That way we’re not completely reliant on Don paying us.”

  “Here I thought you were going to suggest letting Penny go to Rachel’s for a couple of hours, sending Violet on some pointless adventure with Nick, and locking ourselves in this room until all impulses to make love passionately, wildly, and with not a single thought of anything but the obtainment of supreme, never-before-experienced sexual pleasure are exorcised from us, at least for that day.”

  He gaped at me for a long moment, and I grinned at him.

  “That was my Plan B.” He said quickly, “And really, Plan B is there because Plan A so rarely works out. So, let’s skip the disappointment that comes with the failure of Plan A and go straight to B.”

  “No, we should actually accomplish something.”

  “Oh, I’ll accomplish something, alright. I’ll accomplish…” He stopped, trying furiously to think of some suggestive statement with which to follow that sentence starter.

  “Yes?” I asked, and he laughed raucously.

  “I don’t even know what to say to complete that statement. It would be very cheesy and therefore, non-sexy.”

  “You are very tired, and it is obvious.” I leaned down to kiss him one last time and then rolled off of him. We scooted back to lie on the pillows, and after he cuddled up behind me and draped his arm over me, I held onto it with both hands.

  “Do you know what I think?” He asked through yet another yawn.

  “What do you think?” I asked, responding to his yawn with one of my own.

  “Tony and Tom’s wedding has gotten me thinking that maybe we should…”

  My eyes shot open, and I looked back at him.

  “Please tell me you are going to say ‘get into the wedding planning business.’”

  “That is absolutely not what I was going to say, but if that’s what you want to do, I’d be glad to haul wedding things around for you. If that’s your dream, I will aid you in achieving it, because we all know what happens to a dream deferred, don’t we?”

  “No, we don’t. We know what may happen to a dream deferred, but Hughes’s famous poem does not offer a definitive answer. So no, we do not all know. Also, can you honestly see me doing something so blatantly girly?”

  “No.”

  “Your very crafty allusion to a wonderful poem and a wonderful play aside, did you just imply that we should… Did Tony and Tom’s wedding make you think we should… have a similar gathering for a similar purpose?”

  “Read: Get married.” He filled in for me.

  “We were not even reconciled yet.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about it.”

  “You were thinking about your own dream wedding whilst in attendance of a dream wedding? You are such a stereotype of a woman sometimes, James Maxwell.”

  He laughed uproariously, and I found myself merely smiling; his musings on our possible nuptials had startled me severely, and I could not pretend that they had not.

  “Brynna Olivier, it is only that I love you more than I have loved anyone before, and while I was away from you for so long, it got me thinking about that. How much I love you, I mean. And I’m wondering if maybe that’s what we need. Maybe that’s why we’ve been fighting so much, because we need to prove to ourselves that this is permanent.”

  “No, we have been fighting so much because we have both made some mistakes, you more so than me. James, honey…” I grasped his hands, “I don’t need a piece of paper telling me that I love you, and I don’t think that our issues, which are now resolved, could be solved by said piece of paper. What will solve our problems is a resolution to be honest with each other. And faithful. And… really, those two things are the most important.”

  “You’re right. I’m not like, invested completely in the idea. You know I’m weird about it, too, and I said ‘never again’ after I got married the last time, but I think I was just trying to explore any and all options in my mind that might help us out. I wasn’t convinced it would solve the problem between us, but I wondered if it could.”

  “And obviously, we did not need it. Honey, I am certainly not closing the door permanently, and I am flattered that you would even consider it after you so resolutely decided against ever doing it again, but right now is not the time. There is too much unrest and uncertainty. However, ask me to start thinking about it again when all of this is over, and I have a feeling that my reaction and answer will be completely different. Okay?”

  “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning, sweetheart.”

  “Okay. I love you very much, even when you frighten me with talk of marriage.”

  “And I love you very much, also, even when you suggest that I was once scrawny and that my brief musings on marriage during a wedding make me a woman.”

  “If you have not gathered by now that I only speak the truth, then…” I sat bolt upright in bed so suddenly that I startled both him and myself. My heart was pounding against the wall of my chest forcefully, and my eyes had turned white. Quickly, my breaths came and went, and when James grasped my hand, asking me calmly if I was having a panic attack, I shook my head vigorously.

  “I have gotten used to the pattern of though
ts that all the people in our camp have. But there is a new stream that is out of place. It is not one of ours. It is… I have heard it before, James. It’s…” I looked at him, my eyes turning back to a blue that was deeper than the normal shade; my fear was evident to him. “It is one of them. One of the men who…”

  He was already out of bed and pulling on his jeans and white t-shirt. I was jumping up, too, and pulling on my clothes.

  “Which one is it, baby? Can you tell?” James asked, and I shook my head as we walked quickly from our bedroom. “Violet needs to go get Adam and Don.”

  “Not until we are sure. Once we have him, we will bring him to Adam and Don ourselves. I do not want to mix Violet up in this.”

  “Okay.”

  We were out of the house, and I was walking a few feet ahead of him, looking all around me for the stranger who was straying willingly into our midst. There was only one man who would be so bold as to do such a thing on behalf of his leader, and that man certainly was not my father, who would stammer out a million excuses timidly to avoid being taken by the enemies.

  There was only one with whom I had made a deal. There was only one whose sole purpose in coming in search of our camp would be to see whether my mind had been made up or not. He was about twenty miles out, becoming slightly frustrated with the search. He knew he had sensed with the powers he was not supposed to use that we were close. Why had he agreed to come alone? There were beasts in the trees that Tyre had warned him about, but as long as he wore the blessed necklace, they could not harm him. His always cool façade was slipping as his frustration and his fear mounted. Why could no one find the village? Why could no one leave the village and lead him back? It was as though the air around it was infectious to traitors, making them lose their minds before they could lead enemies back. But he did not need them to lead him back, because I would do it for him…

  Paul.

  “He is about twenty miles out, looking for us.”

  “You can sense him when he is that far away?” James asked me incredulously. “He’s getting more and more afraid.”

  “Yes, probably because the tree beasts are out there.”

  “Well, then, baby, we don’t have to worry about him. He’ll be dead by morning. Or at least, he’ll be infected with the venom and in the process of dying.

  “No. He is Tyre’s second-in-command, and we need him.”

  “It’s Rich Bachum.”

  I looked back at him again, my eyes dark.

  “Rich Bachum is not and never has been the second-in-command, honey. It has always been Paul. James…” I grasped his hand, avoiding his eyes when he looked at me. “There is something else that I have not told you.”

  He murmured an expletive and ran the hand that was not being grasped by me over his head.

  “Tell me he didn’t, baby. Tell me he didn’t r…” He stopped, not wanting to upset me.

  “No!” I exclaimed, “It’s not that! James, he said… He offered me… He said that they have…”

  I covered my face for a minute.

  “What, baby? What happened?”

  And I told him. I had to whisper, because I felt like a million ears were listening and a million eyes were watching. As I spoke, his face seemed to blank itself out, his expression set and yet unreadable.

  “But I told him I did not care. After what she did, I said that I did not care what they did to her. But he told me I would not be so apathetic for long. Once I returned, if I did return, I would be unable to resist the temptation of seeing her again. My father told him that I had left her behind, and he had told my mother, too, and Paul said… Paul said that my mother said…” I stopped, running my fingers through my hair compulsively with shaking hands. “James, I can’t trade Adam. But I need to get her away from them. She did so many terrible things, but she doesn’t deserve to be treated the way they are treating her.”

  He was still silent.

  “Honey, I am so sorry I kept this from you. I did not think that I had to tell you, but I know now that I did, because I promised Paul I would consider it, and then Rich almost shot us, and we escaped, and I assumed that the promise I had made was broken, but that promise is why he is here now. So I will meet him, and he can see whether or not I agree.”

  He was still silent.

  “James, I should have told you, and I have fussed at you for keeping things from me…”

  “If Adam finds out about this, Brynna…” He whispered, and his voice was actually trembling, however slightly, “If he finds out you even considered it…”

  “I know. I know.” I nodded, looking down at the ground. “He’ll be furious.”

  “He’ll kill you, Brynna!” He barked at me furiously. “If Paul comes here and tells him…!”

  “I will tell him first.”

  “You will not! Just because you didn’t agree doesn’t mean Adam won’t kill you. You considered it. You thought about it. You didn’t tell him right away. He’s going to think that you were conspiring with them, and that’s why you didn’t tell him. You cannot say anything to him about this. You won’t say anything!”

  “James, do not tell me…”

  “What?” He asked, “Don’t tell you what to do? No, that doesn’t work this time. I am telling you what to do, and you’re going to listen, or…”

  “Or what?” I asked, placing one hand on my hip and looking at him intently. “Or what, James?”

  “It doesn’t matter! Listen to me, Brynna…” He walked forward and put both of his hands on my face. “Trust me on this, baby. If you never trust me on anything else ever again, trust me on this. We need to just leave Paul alone. Let him stay out there. If he tells Adam about the deal you two made, Adam is going to hurt you. I know you don’t think that he will, because you think you know him completely. But he does not let people who betray him live for long. And I know you’re thinking that he let me live, but that was only because he gave me another task. Plus, with you, he’s emotionally attached, and it will…” He struggled to find the right word, “I don’t know. It will wound him if he finds out about this.”

  “You are probably right, but we cannot just leave Paul out in the woods.”

  “Why?”

  I looked up at him, and I feared that my gaze was showing a deep, sorrowful apology, one that I did not know I felt in truth.

  “Because he might be the last link I have to her.”

  He thought he was hiding his surprise well, but as usual, I saw into his mind almost effortlessly. He grasped my hand, wanting to tell me that they were merely playing on my emotions, namely my guilt and my regret that I inevitably had to feel at leaving her behind. I had never shown our enemies that I regretted abandoning my mother, so they were assuming that there was at least that human tendency—that is, the tendency to feel regret and guilt at causing the death of another human being, especially one’s mother—still alive within me, the mutated freak. James was surprised that I wanted to save her, when I had been so apathetic about leaving her behind. I wanted to tell him that at first, Paul’s temptation had been lost on me, but as time wore on, I had begun to think, and as I had begun to think, I had begun to reason. I reasoned that if my mother were alive, I had to save her, after I had so terribly wronged her. I had wanted so desperately to turn away from their temptation, to ignore the cruel torture that was their offer, but just like he had promised, I was unable to say no, even if it meant forever alienating the man to whom I had grown so close…

  Adam would be furious that I had given in to them when the price was so high; he and his wife could be killed if I did not play Paul and Tyre’s game with a strategy that was wilier than their own.

  “Baby… I don’t know what to do. Honestly, I don’t. If he tells him, we’re not even going to have time to pack up and go. We’re just going to have to leave.”

  “I know. James…” I said softly, my eyes on the ground, “There is something I never told you about her. My mother was sick. Terminally sick. She found out
two weeks before you and I met in the bar, so two weeks before all of this. They did not give it a stage, but they said that nothing—not chemotherapy, radiation, a mastectomy, nothing—could stop it. Now, all of this would be utterly unremarkable if it weren’t for the fact that...”

  “What?” He pressed me gently, “Go on, baby.”

  “She reached out to me. She knocked on my door one night as I was putting Penny to bed…”

  And if the knocking had not been so light, I would have feared that it was him again, and I would have seen red, but not like the cliché, I would have seen the blood all over my hands…

  “Brynn? Baby?” James asked, and abruptly, I returned to him.

  “She only asked if she could come in.” I said after a long moment, “At first, I asked her why, and when I saw that she was trying not to cry, I relented and let her in, thinking something had happened but not really caring. If it had been Violet or Eli, she would have been utterly inconsolable. So, I finished putting Penny to bed and then I came out, and I stood there, smoking, and she sat on my couch, just with tears coming down her face, but she didn’t say anything, and I was trying not to look at her. I just wanted her to leave. Finally, she said, ‘I have cancer. There’s nothing they can do.’ And honestly, James, it hit me. It was like a boot in my stomach for just one second. I didn’t even know if I had actually felt it because the feeling was gone so quickly. But I didn’t say anything. I just waited for her to continue. It seemed like hours had passed before she spoke again, but when she did, she said, ‘Is there anything I can do…’ but she stopped. I pretended that I didn’t know what she meant. So, she finished it,” My voice broke, and tears were pouring from my eyes. “She said, ‘Is there anything I can do to make it alright again, Brynna?’ At first, I was happy. Or, I felt whatever it was that I called happiness at the time. It was something dull. Maybe it was hope. I don’t know. But then I just got so angry. So I answered, ‘yes,’ and I remember she got this look in her eyes, and even though I can’t remember what she looks like anymore, I remember that look. It was this hope that clicked on, that ignited into this vision of how things would be for the last few months of her life. She said, ‘Tell me,’ and I looked at her for the first time that night, and all of that hate that I had for her, and all of that fury I had felt towards her for so many years, came back at once. All I could see was every time she had ignored me, or lashed out at me, or not stopped my father, and those memories, coupled with that rage, welled up inside of me, and she said again, ‘Tell me what I can do, Brynna,’ and after a long time, I said, ‘You can die.’”

  I cried harder, and he pulled me to him. For a long time, I sobbed into his chest, unable to restrain my tears now that I had spoken that secret out loud.

  “It’s okay.” He told me softly, and I could hear the threat of tears in his own voice. “It’s alright, baby. You had every right to be angry.”

  “I had no right to say that! I have made her this villain to everyone. I have erased her from both worlds, from the memories of everyone who ever knew her. They know she existed, but they can’t picture her. She was so sick, James. Everything about her was different. She looked like she was dead already, and all she wanted was to make things alright again. She was afraid to die without putting things right, and I know that it was the only thing she wanted in the entire world. It was the absolute last thing she wanted in this world, and I said no. Because I couldn’t let go, and I still can’t let go. Of any of it. I will carry this around with me until the day I die, too. Unless I can find her. Unless she’s here, and I can tell her that I am so sorry, and I was so wrong, and in that one moment, I was crueler than she ever was. Even if she and I never speak another word to each other besides that, which we will not, I have to tell her I’m sorry. I can never take it back, but I can tell her I’m sorry, and that will have to count for something, right? That will have to lessen this guilt a little bit, won’t it?”

  “Yes.” He said gently, “It will erase all of it, Brynna.”

  “Baby…” He raised my head so I was looking at him. “If it is the last thing we do here in this world, if we have to go to the ends of the world and back again, if we die trying, we will find her. I promise you, if she is here, we will find her. Okay?”

  I nodded, and my still tearing eyes that had turned over white as the adrenaline began to course through me turned back to blue when I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him almost fiercely. It never failed to amaze me how easily and suddenly I could become overwhelmed by my love for him and my appreciation of his never failing willingness to support me in whatever venture, foolish or otherwise, I undertook.

  “If this all goes to hell in a hand-basket, as they say, I am very sorry.”

  He brushed a piece of hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear.

  “I know you’ve wanted to put this right since you saw Daniel here that first day. If we can fix it, no matter what happens, then it will be worth it.” He held his lips to mine for one quick, warm second. “I’m sorry I told you to leave her. I should have told you how sorry I am a thousand times before now.”

  “It was both of us. I wanted them gone. But even if she and I never speak a word to each other, which we will not, I know we will not, she deserves to be safe. She deserves to be with her children. She does not deserve to be hurt the way Paul says they are hurting her. No one deserves that.”

  “You’re right. So, let’s bring this son of a bitch in, and see what we can get out of him.”