Chapter 14

Chapter 14

T he further north we travel, the less there is left of Lou. As if she was gradually dissolving with the increasing distance. She only speaks to me when absolutely necessary. But what does speak even mean? Yes and no are the only words she has for me.

After three days, I reach the turn that leads to my land, a graveled, lumber-logging road that has long since served its purpose.

I hope Lou looks out the window from time to time so she sees a bit of nature. Now and again, the shady coniferous forest breaks open and reveals a view of the mirror-smooth mountain lakes. They shimmer glassy in the sunlight, the aspen trees on the banks soaring toward the sky like long limbs. Bright green valleys with wild rivers follow wide grasslands that are reclaimed by the dark forests. At some point, the trees move closer together and I can tell we'll be there soon.

Arriving on my land has never felt so good. Lou, last stop, we're here! I want to shout back to her, but I doubt she'll share my enthusiasm. I slam the RV door and walk a lap around the graveled bay as if I have to check if everything is still okay like with a house you return to after a long time. The white spruces still form a high circle around the clearing and seem motionless like sentinels. In front of the spruces lies a dense green carpet of young willowherbs. A few bees buzz around the closed buds.

For a moment, I breathe in the fresh air scented with pine needles and look up at the visible patch of blue sky.

I spontaneously decide to bring Lou out here tonight. I left her alone for the past few days, but maybe that wasn't wise. These past two days, she has even stopped eating and she is losing more and more weight. Something has to happen.

Having dumped the gray and black water, I clear the pit for the campfire and gather wood and birch bark. When I'm finished, I go back to Lou.

She lies on the bed, hollow-cheeked and pale like she does every evening when I ask her if she wants to sit by the campfire with me. Somehow, she looks so surreal as if she no longer belongs in the real world anymore, only in mine.

"You must eat." My eyes fall on her collarbones, which protrude more than they did a week ago. "If you don't do it voluntarily, I'll force you." It would be awful to have to feed her food like a goose to be fattened, but I'm determined to go through with it.

But even my threat doesn't break her apathy. I carefully sit down next to her on the edge of the bed. She doesn't move, doesn't even blink.

"I always loved how full of life you are. It was like nothing could bring you down," I say softly.

Her eyes shimmer, but she continues staring at the ceiling.

"I know exactly how you feel right now. It's like you're lying in a glass coffin." I close my eyes for a moment, thinking about the day in the Yukon I wanted to die, all the days I wanted to die. "Dead but not buried. You can see and hear everything around you but everything is muted. The sky could be bright blue, but for you it's gray. When you reach out to touch something, all you feel is cold glass." I don't know who or what makes me find these words. No idea where they come from, but they seem to be touching something inside of Lou. She turns her head and stares at me wide-eyed.

I force myself not to grab her hand. "I wish there was a way to make this more bearable for you. I wish I could be the one to shatter that glass for you, but I was the one who put it there."

Her stunned gaze burns into mine. I drop my head, wipe my face as if that takes all the blame away from me. Lying here, she's not the Ash Springs girl anymore. For the first time, I clearly realize that I am destroying her. Just as I feared at the beginning. My darkness is too much for her. She withers before my eyes like a plant without light.

"I should have taken a different girl and spared you," I hear myself say, and for a split second, I believe it. Then Lou would still be Lou. But the point is: there never was another girl who could have helped me out of my darkness, so there never was another option. And now we have to get through it somehow.

An hour later, I go back to her with a fully loaded tray. She is still lying there, laid out to rest. Inwardly, I steel myself against my reluctance to use brute force to make her eat.

"I made you some oatmeal with grated apples, anything else would probably hurt your stomach. And, Louisa, I'm not leaving until you finish it." Threats have worked before.

After a while, when she still doesn't move, I pull her up and tuck the covers behind her in case she's too weak to sit up.

I lean toward her so that my face is close to hers and glare at her with uncompromising hardness. "Eat!" I truly don't want to force her, but I see myself cradling her head in my arm, opening her jaw, and then holding it shut to make her swallow. The thought makes me miserable, although I've done it to her before, but at the time it was only water. For some reason that didn't bother me at all.

I rise and stand in front of the folding door with my legs apart and my arms crossed.

Lou doesn't look at me, but grabs the spoon stuck in the cereal as if in slow motion. Her fingers shake so much she can barely hold it. Furtively, she withdraws her hand and tenses her shoulders, shrinking.

She won't eat!

Give her time, Brendan, don't freak out! She's not doing this to provoke you. She's simply afraid of you .

Without taking my eyes off her, I move to the other side of the bed and sit on the edge.

"We'll be staying here for a while, so you won't have to spend the whole day in the back room anymore," I say, trying to distract her from the tense situation.

She grabs the spoon again. It rattles against the edge a few times and she flinches. I pretend to look out the window, happy to hear her eating at some point.

After a few minutes, I turn to her and catch her looking slyly at me out of the corner of her eye. There's something new in the blue of her eyes, a tiny gleam, maybe a question.

Can I trust you?

You truly won't hurt me?

For a brief moment, I feel like my chest is full of confetti tickling me from the inside. My cheeks burn and I look at her hands. They're still trembling.

Since it grows dark late in the evening, I light the campfire and put on my old gun belt. It's more practical to hang your keys and wilderness paraphernalia on carabiners from the strap so you don't have to rummage around in your pockets all the time.

When I come back, Lou is still sitting on the bed exactly as I left her. Her pastel yellow blouse is rumpled and her blue jeans are far too loose.

"You're coming outside with me," I say so firmly that my words leave no doubt as to how serious I am. "What shoes do you want to wear? I have your sandals, Chucks, flip-flops…"

"Flip-flops."

"You'll be freezing in them."

"Doesn't matter."

"Okay, flip-flops it is." I shake my head, not understanding, and get her the flip-flops with stars on them and set them on the floor in front of the bed. "Put them on." I feel like a commander because I have to order her to do everything.

Lou slides off the bed with visible reluctance. She looks at the shoes, frowns, and gives me a strange look. Maybe she's wondering where I bought the flip-flops. They were hard to come by and required hours of research. In the end, I had to bid on it with a fake account on eBay for $78.

But Lou says nothing. It's strange that she doesn't comment on the clothes.

She slips into her shoes on shaky legs, one hand resting on the bed.

"Okay—now put that sweater on." I hand her a fluffy black sweater that I recently bought.

She reluctantly takes it from me and I take off the cuff so she can put it on. It's too big, but that doesn't matter, at least it keeps her nice and warm. I click the steel hoop back into place and study her closely. Her blonde hair looks even lighter compared to the dark sweater. It falls like sheets of soft, smooth silk and smells like my herbal shampoo. I like it when she smells like my stuff because it's more like we belong together. I stare at her, fighting the urge to touch her, to grab her hair, and pull her toward me. My pulse is beating in my fingertips.

It would be so easy, Brendan…you could push her back onto the bed right here, grab her hair…nobody's around to see…nobody…

I turn away from her abruptly and release the handcuff that is attached to the bracket at the end of the chain. I hate that voice in my head. Maybe it's something from my time on Thorson Ave, maybe the monster left a brand on my mind. It's like you can do anything with anyone you're superior to as long as you don't have to justify it to anyone. But I'm definitely never going to hurt Lou like that. Never! The voice can continue to entice and seduce me, it can talk until it is blue in the face, promising me everything. Fuck it all!

I stare at the necklace a little helplessly and consider if I should take Lou to the campfire like this. I could tie her to the chair, but the thought of her sitting outside tied up like a dog while I'm free to roam strikes me as more inhuman than anything else I do. But loosening them, no, that's absolutely not possible! I can't monitor her all the time. Perhaps, despite her condition, she would risk a second escape attempt.

Undecided, I simply click one cuff around my wrist. If she has to be bound, at least it can be to me.

"Now we're tied together, you and I," I say, slightly smiling. "I can imagine worse things."

No reaction.

Slowly, so that she can keep up in her condition, I walk ahead and she follows me at the greatest possible distance. Ten feet, that's how long the chain is. I sit down on a camp chair in front of the fire and point to the one next to it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Lou take the chair and move it away from me until the chain is almost fully stretched. I suppress a sigh. The ring rubs my sore skin, but I remain seated without reducing the distance. After a few minutes, she perches on the edge, looking like she's about to storm off.

I peer into the blazing flames. Now and again, a log bursts in the heat and yellow-red sparks fly upwards. The wind whirls them through the night, and seconds later, they burn up as if they never existed.

"The night air will do you good," I say, breaking the silence after a while. "You look like a ghost."

Lou stretches her hands toward the flames, palms glowing brightly, but doesn't answer.

"Shh, be quiet for a second!"

Idiot, she is silence personified!

I lean toward her a little. The splashing of the waterfall can be heard like a blurred background noise.

Lou looks strained, maybe she's really listening.

"Water," I explain. I'm sure she heard it too. "Water is good, we can use it to fill up the tanks and stay independent for longer."

Her shoulders stiffen.

Sure, you don't want to be independent, that's obvious, Lou!

She holds her hands even closer to the fire, so close that she's about to burn herself. I swear I'll smack them away if she moves them any closer.

"You don't want to talk to me?"

Okay, good too . I dig out the storm lighter and the cigarettes. I won't let her spoil my good mood. Everything I want is here—I simply have to wait for Lou to stop resisting.

You are a bastard!

I know!

A few wolves begin to howl, deep, melancholy sounds penetrating the forest. It's not howling they use to locate themselves or demarcate their territory, but a call for lost conspecifics, to keep the family together. Like an acoustic beacon. It must be a pack of at least eight animals. Maybe it's even the group I saw on Quiet Lake in the winter. The howling grows darker, a little eerie.

Does it scare Lou?

I watch her as she peers into the darkness. The fire dyes her hair a red, sparkling gold. With her blue eyes, pale cheeks, and slim shoulders, she seems like a mysterious wood elf to me. She looks more grown up , I think. Maybe because she's lost so much weight.

"Why me?" she suddenly whispers.

Ah, so you can talk! I suppress a triumphant smile and hold her gaze. "Why not you?" I ask in return and inhale the cigarette smoke deeply into my lungs.

"You said you should have kidnapped another girl, right? So, I wasn't the only one you were considering? Did you have a list or something?"

So that's what is bothering her. I let the smoke out of my mouth. "I think you misunderstood."

Lou pulls her hands back as if she needs all the attention for the conversation now. "What is there to misunderstand?" she asks dismissively. "You stalked a few different girls and you finally picked me."

"I checked out a few different girls, but I never planned to kidnap one. Until I found you." I didn't phrase it quite correctly. I can't help but wonder if that wasn't more true. Was it my wish from the start to bring Lou to the Yukon? Subconsciously? Would I have kidnapped her if she hadn't logged off? Sooner or later, maybe her posts would not have been enough for me. Somehow, that time is hidden in an impenetrable fog. As if I hadn't experienced it, but a different Bren had.

When I emerge from my thoughts, I notice how confused she looks at me. She shakes her head uncomprehendingly. "Found? Where did you find me?"

Oh, Lou …

"You'll have to figure that out for yourself. It's actually not too hard, if you think it through…" It's hard to believe that she doesn't have a clue, but I want her to figure it out on her own. Besides, I don't feel like explaining it to her. She'll think I'm even more deranged than I am. "Anyway…" I lean back and there's another tug on the chain. "There was never another option besides you. I saw you and wanted you. I was willing to do whatever had to be done. Anything ." I pause and stare penetratingly into her wide eyes. "I know that sounds ridiculous, heartless, and frightening. And I'm not going to try and convince you that I'm a good person or anything." I look away and stare into the bright glow of the fire. "Because I'm not."

I say it out loud.

I'm not a good person.

That is what I was taught.

Too bad you don't want to find out who you truly are .

The sentence wanders through my thoughts as if it had been detached from my memory. Maybe telling Lou all this is wrong, but then again, she needs to finally trust me completely, and that includes the truth.

I wipe my forehead, which is hot from the heat of the fire. "I simply want you to understand why I had to do it."

"Well, I don't!" she spits at me.

Sure, Lou. I wouldn't understand it either. Some random psychopath comes along, lures you into his RV, and takes you with him. And now he even explains why and wants you to understand. That is sick. That's truly sick .

The louder my inner voice gets, the more I want her to at least understand why I need her. I think of the little boy who suffers over and over again. I'd love to tell her about him, but I can't.

Silence flickers between us, dense and unapproachable like fire, wailing like the howling of wolves.

Lou is still sitting on the edge of the chair, her hair like golden fire in front of her face so that all I can see is the tip of her nose.

I scoot forward a little to get a better look. "When you concentrate on your heartbeat, what do you feel?" I ask.

"My heart, what else?"

"Just try it." I curl up the corners of my mouth in a tight smile, ignoring her frosty tone.

"I don't want to."

I slip my hand under the leather jacket and put it on my chest. Heartbeats thud dully against my palm. But the nothing in between is louder. Darker. It sucks on me, pulls me down. It scares me, like I'm a child again locked in the dark confines waiting to die.

My fingers dig into the fabric of the hoodie. "All I feel is the space in between. Emptiness. Darkness," I say in a whisper.

"Which is why you kidnapped me?" Lou snaps, but it sounds less aggressive than before.

"Yeah," I answer honestly, trying to shake off the dark feeling. "It's not as bad with you here." Even when you're sad and stubborn and hateful, I finally feel like I can get enough air. As if I can breathe again. Like an eagle that can soar over the strongest storms .

She averts her eyes and gazes into the flames. "You said earlier that you would have done whatever needed to be done. To kidnap me, I mean." She hesitates for a moment, then looks back at me and I nod.

"Would you have killed one of my brothers to get to me?"

For a moment, I feel like she's kicked me in the temple. I can see why she's asking and it infuriates me. Don't hurt her anymore! I tell myself. Not with words or with your hands . I mentally count to ten and lean forward again.

"That's not a fair question, Louisa. There's no way to answer it." My voice is impersonal and much too calm. "If I say yes, you'll be scared and you'll hate me more than ever. If I say no, you won't believe me. So, what do you want to hear?"

"The truth," she says defiantly.

Of course, Lou! Both make you despise me even more!

"The truth is that I've never even considered the question," I say after a moment's thought. "And you shouldn't either. I can't answer it after the fact." That's true too because I don't know what I would have actually done if Ethan had become suspicious at the time.

"You're making it easy on yourself." Her whisper is full of bitterness.

"I could have said no and risked you calling me a liar." I keep my eyes on her. Her hands grip the edge of the chair.

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

Something inside me turns icy. I abruptly stand up and turn away from Lou. Images of Jordan flash before me, lying on the floor with that unnaturally twisted neck. The silence of that time buzzes in my ears.

"Is that a yes ?" I hear Lou ask in a squeaky voice. "So, you really…" She falters and swallows audibly. "I… I want to go inside."

I whip around to her. "No," I say with cold calmness. I see how scary it must be for her, but I can't let her suspicions go unanswered. "You asked me a question and I'm going to answer it!" I point to the chair. "Sit. Now!"

Face even paler than before with lips pressed together, she sinks back onto the edge.

"It was almost three years ago…" I pace in front of her. The chain rattles, rubbing my torn wrists, which I still haven't bandaged. "It wasn't how you imagine."

"What am I imagining?" Her voice is steady, but her body is shaking like aspen leaves in the autumn wind.

I stop, suppressing a mocking laugh. "The worst, of course. That I killed someone out of envy, greed, or rage. You're probably picturing how you think I did it. Something especially barbaric or underhanded I suppose!" I snort. I'm sure she thinks I stabbed someone in the back. I squint at her appraisingly. "Am I right?"

Lou avoids my gaze— of course! "How did you do it, then?"

At least she follows up. "It was an accident… It's kind of a long story."

"I only need the short version. And then I'd like to go back inside."

"The short version is: we fought, he didn't survive."

Lou makes an indefinable sound. "You beat him to death."

I could scream. "Don't twist my words. There was a fight. We both knew what we were getting ourselves into. There were no rules and a whole lot of prize money." Too much, way too much!

"So, you did kill for money," she says, the corners of her mouth turning down in contempt.

I walk toward her with stiff steps. I would like to pull her up to me and shake her because she misunderstands everything. Because she has no idea about the past. Has no clue about anything! "I hit him and he fell down," I blurt out. "He broke his damn neck! It wasn't supposed to be a fight to death."

Lou looks at me strangely like she knows more about me than I realize. "Maybe your punch is what killed him. How can you be sure?"

I rest my hands on the arms of her chair, leaning in close to her. So close that she turns her head to avoid me. I feel the warmth of her body, hear her rapid breathing. "Yeah, a lot of other people thought the same thing," I say in a dangerous whisper next to her ear. "Especially the guy's dad and brother." You're not the only one who wishes me a slow, cruel death, Lou, don't worry.

Lou stays stock-still. "If there were no rules, it was an illegal fight and nobody looked into it. Lucky you," she says in a trembling voice.

Brave. Brave and stupid .

I breathe into my stomach to control my anger. "Go ahead, keep needling me to see if I end up breaking my promise," I say calmly. "You're going to be disappointed though. I never hit people weaker than me even if they try to make me."

"You kidnap them instead," she manages to say.

With a sound between a sigh and a snort, I push off the backrest and give her a little more room again. I don't know if I should be happy that she's so different today. At least she's not so apathetic anymore.

"What are you going to do with me?" Lou looks up at me defiantly.

I click my tongue impatiently. "I've told you a million times, I'm taking you with me. That's all. You simply refuse to believe it."

With more verve than I would have given her credit for, she jumps to her feet and clenches her hands. "I do!" she whispers frostily. "I do refuse to believe you aren't planning to do something terrible to me. And you know what? I wish you would get on with it already, whatever it is. Do it now. Then, it'll be over and you won't have to keep up these nice-guy theatrics." She stares at me like I'm a wild animal.

"I'm. Not. Going. To. Hurt. You!" The dark tone of my voice sends a shiver down my spine.

" Liar !" She gets so close that I can see every detail of her face. Drops of sweat glisten on her forehead. "Why are you drawing it out? Because you enjoy watching me suffer! You really are sick. Sick and perverted."

Before I can understand why she's leaning forward, her warm spittle hits me square on the cheek. I'm immobile for a moment as I feel it running down my face. Anger burns in my veins. Lou clenches her teeth as if expecting a slap in the face. I don't know which of us is more shocked. I slowly raise my hand. She flinches as she stares at me. As if in slow motion, I wipe the spit away with the sleeve of my jacket.

"Come on!" she yells as if she can't take my inaction any longer. "Do it already!" She's shaking and trembling so badly, I look away. Of course, she's scared. Of course, she's pretending she doesn't care. And I know I have to do something. Something to help her—despite my anger. I think about the nasty voice in my head.

It would be so easy, Brendan…you could push her back onto the bed right here, grab her hair …

"Yeah." A dark whisper escapes my mouth. Lou staggers back a few steps. "Yeah, it's time. Something needs to happen."

With the rattling chain, I approach her and automatically pull the hunting knife out of the leather sheath.

Lou freezes as if she doesn't even dare breathe under my gaze. The red firelight flickers across her face. Stunned, she stares at the gleaming blade.

I have to do it quickly.

Without thinking, I jump toward her, grab her hair, and rigorously pull her back the few steps to the RV behind me.

"Bren…" My name is no more than a plea from her mouth, but I don't let anything get to me. I didn't want to touch her anymore, didn't want to hurt her anymore, but something has to be done. That's all I think about.

I push her hard against the RV, squeezing her between the wall and me like into a cage. My body presses against hers, wanting something different than my mind. She's so warm, so soft… It would be so easy … I can feel her butt against my thighs.

Lou starts whimpering like she can hear the voice inside me.

"Won't take long," I say extremely calm. I grab her head and press her forehead against the wall. "And if you hold still, it won't even hurt!" With grim determination, I pull her hair up into a ponytail, wrapping it around the edge of my hand as if it were a spool.

Lou doesn't move. Even when I tug harder, she remains motionless. When her hair forms a tight strand from the top of her head, I decide on a spot and start cutting. Too short , everything in me screams, but I keep going. Wielding the knife. Back and forth, back and forth. Lou's head bangs against the Travel America . The hair I've cut falls short and tousled. I could slap myself for what I'm doing, but it feels like a victory. Not for Lou, but more importantly, myself.

When I'm done, a strange relief comes over me. I turn, the ponytail in hand, and march toward the fire. Somewhere behind me, I hear the clink of the chain and feel a brief jerk. I wait for Lou to catch up and take the last three steps to the campfire. Then, I turn to her.

She stands there with eyes the size of two full moons, her face glistening with sweat. Hectic red spots run down her cheeks. She gapes at the blonde ponytail in my hand. Her tousled hair now reaches her chin with a few longer strands.

I nod stiffly, more to approve of my work.

"So, do you believe me now?" I toss her ponytail into the bed of the crackling fire with a flourish. There's a hissing sound, then flames descend upon it and handfuls of white and red sparks scatter into the night.

Lou steps next to me. The smoke thickens and the smell of singed hair fills the air.

"Do you think a man who was only interested in that would chop off the girl's hair?" I ask, staring at her with satisfaction.

She swallows, unable to take her eyes off her burning hair. It has curled and is partially white. There is a final flash of fire, after which almost everything has evaporated and burned. I turn away and, out of the corner of my eye, see her nervously tugging at the ends of her hair.

"Do you believe me now?" A hint of defiance darkens my words. I want an answer. I did this for her. And for the voice in my head that seems to think a girl's allure is measured by her hair.

Lou wraps her arms around herself, looking like she's trying to comfort herself. I probably did the wrong thing again.

"Do you believe me?" I ask again in a lower voice, gazing into the fire.

At some point, I feel her eyes on me and turn to her. Tears flow down her cheeks and drip down her chin to the ground.

"You're crying." I shake my head in surprise.

"Am not!" She wipes her eyes a few times with the back of her hand.

"Because of your hair? It'll grow back."

She breathes in and out deeply, opens and closes her fingers. She looks like she's struggling to regain control.

"Things couldn't go on the way they were. I need you to be less afraid somehow…well, I tried to anyway."

She doesn't look at me. "You made me think you were going to kill me."

"I told you I wasn't going to hurt you. All you had to do was trust me. It's not my fault. I wanted… I wanted to make the situation here clear, once and for all." I shrug, puzzled.

"So you did what had to be done. As is your nature."

A single laugh escapes me, but it comes across as completely out of place, lonely and lost. "I told you I'm not a good person. Good people do good things."

"And what do you do?"

I glance at the knife blade. The flames of the fire break on the reflective surface. I turn it slightly and see part of my face. Soot sticks to my chin and the scratch on my forehead, left by Lou, is glowing scarlet.

Too bad you don't want to know who you are .

I push the voice away and put the hunting knife back in its leather sheath.

"Today, I cut hair. Tomorrow, I'll build rabbit traps. The day after tomorrow, I'll tell you where I found you—if you haven't figured it out by then. Would that be a start?" I force a smile even though I don't feel like it.

Lou backs away from me toward the spruces until the chain tightens. She doesn't say anything else, instead looks at the RV, the forest, and then back to me. As if she doesn't know what to do with herself and her thoughts.

I can't stop looking at her. The shorter hair makes her appear younger, but her eyes are dull. Something in me pushes to the surface. A feeling, a knowledge that is still wordless and unformed. Lou doesn't feel any safer with me, but seems completely lost. She is miles away from the girl who obliviously twirled in the evening light. She's not the girl in my photos anymore.

I recall Dr. Watts' explanation to me from years ago.

A trauma is always the loss of innocence. Trauma is the loss of a life that could have been lived if the injury had not happened .

All of a sudden I feel sick. It's me who took the life she could have lived.

The innocence in her eyes, her vitality, her trusting nature—I shook her worldview by revealing what a wicked place this earth can be. She'll never be the Lou I wanted to kidnap. My Little Miss Sunshine who the little boy was clinging to is gone forever.

Suddenly, I can't bear the sight of her anymore and turn away. I clutch the silver coin on my bracelet tightly. I told myself I was better than my stepfather because I didn't abuse Lou for base reasons, but that was a lie. Of course I mistreat her. Of course I torment her. She's only here to make me feel better.

I take a few deep breaths, fighting back the burning urge to throw up. If I were a good person, I would let her go. Maybe then she would still have a chance to see the world the way it was before that day. But I cannot. Something inside me won't let me finish that thought. I can't let her go. Never again. Not ever.

I glance at her furtively. She is completely lost, a small, light shadow against the tall dark conifers. Entirely different from what I imagined. I shake my head. I'm most definitely not a good person. Good people do good things. Things I can't do.