37. 1994

CADE

NIGHTTIME THOUGHTS

Sleep was never something that came easily, not when I was home, not when I was stuck in that tiny cell Marone chained me in, and not now. Even with Bun's petite figure curled into my side, I can't silence the screaming echoes in my mind.

Like every night so far, I toss around in the sheets, shaking the bed with my frustration. I stayed on the ground because I didn't want to disturb Bunny with my agitation. I was used to sleepless nights, but this was new for her. She needed rest. After the first night, when she caught me sleeping on the scratchy carpet, she was adamant I wouldn't be on the floor anymore.

"Be with me," she'd whispered when she went to bed, patting the spot beside her. Every night since then, I haven't left her side, but there's too much on my mind tonight.

I'm careful when I slide off the mattress, doing my best to keep the squeaking of the springs to a minimum. That mindfulness follows me out the door and into the dimly lit hallway of the motel.

My bare feet sink into the stiff fibers, but the ends feel like needles, which is somewhat relieving on my blisters and scars. I absorb the sensation until I reach the front, where Susie reclines behind the front desk. A cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other, she lifts her head upon my entrance, watching me with curious eyes.

"Need something, honey?"

Everything."Can I have some?" I nod to her drink, but I kind of want a smoke, too.

Sitting upright, Susie gestures to the next room, uttering, "Come on," before slipping into her office. I close the door behind me once I pass the threshold, hoping the absolute silence will quiet my thoughts.

The click of the door draws her attention, but Susie says nothing about it. She simply hands me a glass of something brown and drops into her office chair. For a few moments, we don't utter a word. We hardly even look at each other as we sip the warm, woody, vanilla whiskey.

"Couldn't sleep?" Susie asks once I'm halfway through.

Staring into the deep color, I shake my head, attempting to exhale a weight off my shoulders. "I hate closing my eyes."

I look up when she doesn't respond, catching her at the end of a wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression.

"You know, everything Bunny told me…it's difficult for a mother to grasp. I want to kill them for you two, but I also want this done right."

"There is no right way to do this, Susie. You need to know that. What me and Bunny are doing, it's the least they deserve."

That seems to be a tough pill to swallow for Susie, and by the droop of her stare, I can see she doesn't quite get it yet, but she still offers sympathy and kindness. So, I don't push, and I won't fight to defend our actions.

"She's a broken one," Susie utters after a weighted minute. "She's a broken one, that girl of yours."

It's an initial instinct to defend her, my Bunny, but I can't deny the cracks or ignore the weeps in her sleep. "We're both broken, Susie. I don't think you could come out of where we did without pieces missing."

"And do you think you can find those pieces doing what you're doing?"

Sighing, I take another sip of the drink, irritated, but I appreciate her concern. Still, I'd like her to understand. We're not bad.

We're just broken.

"Those pieces are long gone. I don't want them back, but if doing this helps Bun hold on to whatever is left, then I'll do it with pleasure."

She considers me and all I've said, sadness in her weathered gaze. "But at what cost?"

I stew on it for a moment, thinking about what it could possibly cost when everything has already been stripped from me. I only have one thing left to give. But I don't share that with Susie. Truthfully, I don't know if Bunny's considered it either.

With the cost on my mind, I down the rest of the drink, handing her the glass and thanking her softly before preparing to head out. My hand is on the knob when I stop, a request on my tongue.

"Do you have a pen? And some paper?"

* * *

The moon is my only source of light. I count on it as I lie stomach down on the ground, pen to paper.

So many things pass through my mind. So many thoughts to get off my chest, and none of them are simple. I've never been good with words. My family called me stupid for it, but I try now.

I've never written a letter before. I had no one that wanted to hear from me. To be honest, I don't know why I'm writing you this, Bun. I should tell you to your face, but I don't think I could get the words out.

I was taken to Marone in the back of a van.

Did I tell you that? I was supposed to meet Bruno—Nathan— in front of the barn he found me in. Instead, I was grabbed from the road on my way there, hood thrown over my head and arms bound before I could throw the first punch.

The torture began almost immediately.

I can still feel the first blade sinking into my skin. It's a burn I'll never forget, and whatever drive I had for freedom died with the chunk ripped from me.

I didn't feel that spark again until I met you.

Truth be told, I didn't feel alive until then, either.

You're a fucking force, you know?

I'm glad.

As fucked as it is to say, I'm glad Marone took me because it gave me you.

And now we're doing this, and they're paying for what they've done, and I'm scared, Bun. I'm scared because I can't lose you.

Not when I just got you.

I won't tell you this now. You won't even get this until we've finished.

Not because I don't want you to know, but because I won't be the reason you stop. Not when they've done so much to you.

I can handle my pain, but yours is one I can't survive.

You're sleeping now, and for once, I feel no fear from you. I dream of the nights I can look over and never see that fear again.

I know we'll have that, Bun.

I know when this is done, I'll roll over in whatever bed we find and see peace on your lips every night as I hold you close.

I'll kiss them, just so I can feel it, too.

I love you, Bun.

I don't know when I'll find the nerve to say it, but I do.

I love you, Bunny.

Until the end.