Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

This is for Bren and me, I think while the night flutters around me like a black shawl. I don't have time to be afraid. A hissing envelops me and then there's a hard jolt and a sharp pain runs through my spine, branching out through the back of my head to the roots of my teeth.

Panting, I remain seated for a few breaths. I landed feetfirst but ended up on my butt. Gravel digs into my palms and the ankle I sprained in the Yukon last year throbs. I cautiously rotate my foot and the movement pulls but is manageable. Relief washes through me.

I get up carefully, but when I start walking, I can hardly put any weight on my right leg. The old pain in my ankle explodes with every step, stabbing my bone like a newly sharpened sword. My relief turns to shock.

Cursing softly, I hobble across the dimly lit parking lot while repeatedly glancing over my shoulder. So far, Liam hasn't shown up at the window. Lucky for me because I'm way too slow.

I stop at the edge of the freeway and cling to the guardrail. Engine noise, energetic honking, and exhaust fumes fill the hazy morning. Dazed by the pain, I try to get an idea of the situation.

The interstate has eight lanes, four lanes stretching north to south on each side. Cars speed past.

Crossing the freeway would be madness! I must move on and hope for a bridge or underpass. With one hand on the guardrail, I begin to move when I hear an outcry.

"Louisa, stop! Wait!"

My stomach sinks. I look toward the parking lot and see Ethan striding straight for me. His face is ashen, his eyes dark. He's actually still wearing his blue-and-white checked pajamas.

"Don't run away again, please, Lou!" It almost sounds like a plea the way it comes out of his mouth. Liam's words about Dad's funeral come to my mind and I see him standing bravely by the open grave, holding my hand as I weep.

Suddenly, I feel sorry for him. Part of me wants to wait for him, but the other part chooses Bren. I climb over the guardrail as fast as I can.

"Louisa! Are you crazy? You're going to get yourself killed!" he yells after me, sounding angry now.

Through the emerging daylight, I look at him. He's only thirty feet away—and he doesn't have a throbbing ankle that stings like it's being poked with a knife every step he takes.

Behind me. a car honks and startles me, causing me to turn. A sports car roars by in one of the center lanes. A chrome monster truck thunders toward me in the right lane. Ethan is almost here!

Before the truck reaches me, I start running. A deep horn like a bass explodes and brakes squeak shrilly through the air. Ethan shouts something, but it's drowned out by the roar of the engines. A small car with a trailer rattles past in front of me and I almost stumble into it. Hot, exhaust-filled headwinds twirl my hair. My heart is pounding. I'm in the middle of the lanes. Cars slow down.

If I get run over now, Bren may never find out what happened. I look to the right in panic. A car slows and the driver rolls down the window. "Have you lost your mind!" he yells as he drives by. I ignore him. He moves on and I cross the last of the four lanes and come to the green median strip.

I gasp for oxygen. My eyes are watering because my ankle hurts so much. Or is it because I'm scared of Ethan?

I hear him yell something and turn. His expression is a mixture of fear and anger, a look that reminds me of Bren, and it stabs me in the heart. He climbs over the guardrail, ripping his pajama bottoms, and his ponytail unravels, a few hairs brushing his shoulders. I instinctively know he won't follow me, at least not in that getup and on foot. He's too reasonable for that. Yet he makes a face like he's already lost me forever. He probably believes he did everything wrong with me, but other than the slap, I don't hold a grudge. I want to tell him this, but there's no point, he wouldn't hear anyway.

"Lou!" he yells, the exertion causing a neck vein to throb. "Don't be so stubborn! Stop dreaming and wake up! There's no such thing as… You won't get far…"

"What?" I can hardly hear him. Since I can't say goodbye, I awkwardly raise my hand and wave goodbye. Then, I turn, examine the lanes, and find myself in luck. Red lights from construction work flash further ahead, so the cars on this side have reduced speed.

I limp across the road and only turn once I'm on the other side.

Ethan stands there so rigidly as if a blizzard froze him mid-movement, freezing even his facial expression. The sight of him paralyzes me for a heartbeat. What is going through his mind? The many hours he bathed me, dried me, and studied with me? Does he believe his love was a bad investment? The thought of him giving up on me suddenly hurts and my heart pounds harder in my chest.

I may not see him again for a long time. Maybe never again. Maybe he'll never forgive me for this. Suddenly, I view the crossing of the freeway as the crossing of a line, unaware of all its consequences. Maybe it's a border that will keep us at a distance forever, without a bridge that could connect us.

I start moving, telling myself I don't care. I have Bren now. I am an adult. I don't care about Ethan, I don't care at all—but of course, it's not true. I keep repeating it anyway until it feels like the truth.

I leave the interstate afraid Ethan and Avy might drive down it, and hobble aimlessly through the streets of suburbia. I don't even know where I am. The airport must be nearby because I see larger planes taking off and coming in for landings at regular intervals.

It's raining heavily now and I'm soaking wet, but I grow more afraid for Bren with every passing minute.

Soon, I can barely walk and take shelter at the nearest bus stop, studying each line's destinations to see if the names sound familiar. Seattle Space Needle definitely sounds promising. I can hardly walk anymore I'm so dizzy from the pain.

I unwrap the money from Liam's scarf and get a ticket from the machine. I'm lucky I found some dollars. As I sit down on the bench and study the area, a bald guy with a briefcase looks over at me warily. I can't blame him, with my soaking wet shirt and bare feet I look like a homeless person. Plus, I carry my money in a gray-and-white cloth! I don't dare ask him for his phone—he'd probably end up calling the police!

At some point, the headlights of a car appear and I cower, praying Ethan and Avery aren't driving it. I sigh a breath of relief when I see that it's just an old Dodge. Shortly after, the bus arrives.

The driver gives me a strange look but says nothing. Tired, I collapse onto a seat in the back and inspect my sore ankle. It's swollen, but other than that, I don't see anything. The old injury healed over the course of this last year, but if I put too much weight on my foot, the area sporadically hurts. Damn! It had to be this ankle again!

I stretch out my leg on the empty seat. I'm freezing. My shirt is soaked from the rain and droplets trickle relentlessly down my body, soaking the seat as if I peed my pants.

I'm shaking and rub my eyes, wondering where Bren might be. I hope he isn't still at the hotel because I'm sure Ethan will go look for me there first. If he's even searching for me and hasn't already written me off!

At the moment, I don't know which I would prefer. I don't even want to imagine what would happen if Ethan ran into Bren! The two must never, ever meet!

However, if I can't go back to the hotel, where else can I go? I will have to start looking at the Seattle Plaza since I have no other leads. In my mind, I imagine myself sneaking around the hotel lobby like a wet, mangy dog. The security guards will probably kick me out before I set a bare foot on the gold-threaded marble. Could I find the back entrance? Probably yes, although my brothers will certainly use that stealthy route as well.

After about an hour, the bus stops at the Space Needle and I still have no idea what to do. At least I immediately spot the striking mirror facade of the Seattle Plaza.

As I turn onto the hotel's street, I see the blue Nissan parked right in front of the monumental entrance portal. I recognize Liam at the wheel. Ethan is getting out and slams the door so hard, it nearly flies off its hinges. Damn, he's mad!

I hastily take cover behind the corner of the building. A minute earlier and I would have walked right into them! I have to get out of here. Parking in front of the hotel is not allowed for security reasons, so Liam will drive on and pass this corner.

I face the park across the street and, ignoring my ankle, dash across the asphalt. With a cry of pain, I dive behind the stone gate. When I dare to look back at the main thoroughfare, Liam is driving past and turning into the street where I was just hiding. He will definitely hunt for a parking space there and then use the back entrance of the hotel.

There's nothing I can do right now except wait for them to stop the search. At least it has stopped raining.

With chattering teeth, I hobble to the other end of the park. I've only been here once. The grounds are tiny, not a green paradise, more like a nook of paradise—a collection of dense deciduous and coniferous trees surrounding a meadow. In the center is a pond with marsh marigolds and ducks as well as a circular pool that is filled with water in the summer for the children in the city.

I'm level with the ancient cedar I was admiring the first time when I glimpse a shadow in the undergrowth out of the corner of my eye. A dark shape scurries past behind a bush.

Maybe hiding in the park wasn't a good idea after all! Leaves rustle like an evil whisper blowing across the ground in my direction. I inhale sharply when I spot Grey and laugh with relief. His honey-colored eyes gleam like amber in the gloom, but he doesn't bark happily like he usually does when he sees me. On the contrary, he seems almost as serious as Bren.

A foreboding rises in me. "What is it, Grey? Where's Bren?" He trots toward me and I pluck an ivy vine out of the coat of fur, wanting to pet him, but he moves away again and looks around like he wants me to follow him.

My heart beats faster. Maybe Bren is injured and needs help. I scan the thicket, but I don't see him anywhere. Grey barks once impatiently as if urging me to hurry.

"Bren? Are you here?" I call out softly into the undergrowth. It's not the Yukon, but the tall trees are crowded together here. Countless climbing plants hang from branches and the feeble morning light is lost in a tangle of ivy, mistletoe, and other vines.

"Bren?" I push aside a wide vine dangling in front of my nose. "Ouch!" The scream escapes my lips, loud and indignant. I stepped on something sharp and pointy with the ball of my right foot. I hold on to the tree trunk with trembling fingers and lift my foot. Great! A brown shard of glass sparkles in the barely illuminated area. I pull it out with a curse and throw it into the next bush. Blood immediately oozes from the cut.

Fantastic, if the day continues like this, I might just have my foot amputated!

"Bren?" The pain and my fatigue make me impatient. I try to ignore everything else and pick my way through the hanging vines with my hands. "Grey? Hey, not so fast!"

"You said you wouldn't leave me!"

The voice sounds rough, stricken, and frightful at the same time. It instantly paralyzes me, grabs my throat, and pushes me mercilessly against a tree trunk. Images from a memory arise in my mind like the figures of a nightmare: Bren's dark eyes, his screams, the rage inside him. The hand he grabbed my neck with…

I blink hard, but the darkness around me is too thick. "Bren?" I whisper. "Where are you?" The smell of needles rises in me and constricts my chest.

"You promised. Remember?"

"Yes…yes, of course!" I force myself to calm down even though my heart is pounding in my ears. "And I'm here…" Is he hiding from me? Why? Because he's afraid he might hurt you! With extreme caution, I step back and a tendril brushes against my hair. "I was waiting for you in the room and then…"

Suddenly, he stands in front of me as if he has grown out of the ground and grabs my upper arm. I flinch like when Ethan slapped my face. He didn't make a sound, no cracking, nothing. Something dark glows in his eyes—like black lava burning.

"Bren," I whisper. "It's alright. I'm here. My brothers dragged me away." A summer's fear wells up in me. I told you not to leave me! Don't! Leave! Me! His screams pound in my head and my knees weaken. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Grey's eyes smoldering in the blackness.

"Is it because of someone else? Did I miss something?" He's completely lost, my words can't reach him, he might attack me at any moment now.

"You're crazy," I choke out. I hear a low growl coming from the undergrowth. A branch cracks. Grey approaches. I try to keep my fear at bay, but it seems to be taking over every nook and cranny. He's sick, a voice inside me whispers. He's not doing this on purpose! Still, the fear remains, even grows stronger. "There…there are…my…"

His gaze is rock hard as is his grip and any words get stuck in my throat. "Lou! Who is it? You'd better tell me!"

"Nobody!" I can't believe the stuff he's saying but I do remember the time in Crescent City when he held me like this. I think about what he confided in me afterward. He was beaten half to death and never found love. How will he ever feel certain of my love?

"Bren, stay here—in reality." I need to be strong for both of us, which is hard for me because I'm so scared. "We're together day and night. How was I supposed to… My brothers were there and they…"

"It's too much for you!" A bitter, cold statement.

He misunderstands everything. He isn't experiencing a flash or a seizure, but his mind is still stuck.

I inhale deeply. "No, it's not too much for me," I say, not knowing how I can keep my voice so steady. "And if you would let me finish, then…"

"You left me. Running into you here is a stupid coincidence. You know… I knew you'd eventually do that. Run away, I mean. It just won't work for us. You deserve better than me."

"You're what's best for me!" I exclaim, but for the first time, I have doubts. He is almost crushing my bones. What if he never gets well? What if it goes on like this forever or if he's only sure of me if he isolates me from the world somewhere? Whether in the wilderness or a luxury suite, whether the stars rise in the sky or on the ground. Can I really live like this? But the very next moment, my thoughts startle me. This is Bren! My Bren! And he needs help. He's still standing in front of me, frozen, holding me tightly, when in reality it's he who needs to be held. The scent of the spruce and the earth fades away, leaving only the dampness of the rain and the freshness of the ivy around us. "You're what's best for me," I repeat in a whisper.

His oval, shadowed face appears uncompromising. "I'm not at all what's best for you. We both know that."

"Bren—let go of me. You're hurting me!" I say, looking into his eyes to keep him grounded in reality. "I'm still here. And I will not run away if you let go of me."

"You only run away if I don't let go, right?" he asks harshly. His hand twitches, but he doesn't release me, almost as if his body isn't responding to his mind, as if his synapses aren't working.

"No. I'll never run away from you, I promise." I recall how he choked me during a fit last year. Will he do that again? Can I endure it? Is my love strong enough? Say he actually hurts me, then what?

"Bren!" I feel Grey beside me, his fur against my bare calf; I'm sure he instinctively knows what's going on with Bren and I'm sure he'll protect me if need be.

Suddenly, my eyes burn. Not just because of the pain and my fear, but because I'm thinking such horrible things. I'm also thirsty, hungry, sad for Ethan, exhausted from the long night, and my right foot is itching and throbbing. In this state, it's hard to be understanding, helpful, and patient. "Bren… I love you. And I won't leave you alone." I'm reminded of the Henry Cunningham picture—I don't know why. Maybe because he reminds me of Bren, of his childhood pain, the reason why I always have to forgive him.

Bren stares at me. The darkness in his eyes fades away, leaving a strange confusion in its wake.

"Bren, my brothers dragged me away. I didn't stand a chance against them. Suddenly, they were in front of the door and dragged me to the elevator… At the first opportunity, I fled and went back to the hotel, but they were already there, so I ducked into the park…"

"What are you talking about?"

"I didn't run away."

"You didn't run away?"

"No."

Bren's eyes widen. "Oh, Lou!" He lets go of me. His disbelief resembles that of a child's, then shame is reflected on his face and he looks down. "I didn't trust you. I hurt you again!" He says it as if he can't believe it himself.

I shake my head wildly. Of course he hurt me, but today wasn't the worst. I think of my jump, my ankle, Ethan's gaze, and the hot interstate exhaust fumes. I just want to cry, mostly because of Bren. I don't know anyone who stands in the way of his own happiness so much.

Exhausted, I hobble to a tree trunk and slide down to the ground, my legs shaking. Grey follows me and watches over me like a sphinx. I turn my head so Bren doesn't see my tears, wrap my arms around Grey, and cry into his fluffy fur. Bren makes it so difficult for me, but what's worse, I never thought his doubts and episodes would bother me so much. My heart aches from his lack of understanding and his unjust anger. And now, of all times, I have to think of Ethan standing on the interstate in his ripped pajamas. And how he stood at my father's grave and only cried at night. I wonder if I can live with Bren if he's not going to change.

"Lou!" All of a sudden, he's crouching next to me and gently resting his hand on my back. Grey growls.

"It's okay," I sob under my breath, not knowing who I'm saying it to. Bren tentatively strokes my wet hair. I recall his words: that for a long time he had repressed a part that he called the little boy. Maybe this part has not grown up and still thinks and acts like a five-year-old. He may have learned to accept this boy and examine his memories, but he may still take control at times and simply cannot think logically.

"Maybe I'm not what's best for you," I say quietly. "Maybe I'm not good for you." That's what his psychologist said, too.

"Hey, shush, I'm sorry," he whispers close to my ear. His soft words hurt a lot more than his hard grip, but I don't think he's aware of it.

"When it comes to you, my mind just goes crazy," he continues, quietly and reassuringly. "I imagine the wildest things and believe they're true. But you are here. You're right. I was a fool—as I've already proven many times over."

I suppress a sob. I'm so relieved he has recovered. Everything will be fine. He calmed down and a lot quicker than I thought. I turn to him and look at his guilt-ridden face.

"Stop crying, Lou, please!"

"I'm trying," I say, half crying, half laughing, which makes him smile. Warmth floods me. It's okay again. Everything's okay again. We made it, at least for today. Do you remember, Lou: one day at a time. Like when you escaped, and again in the parking lot in Hudson's Hope. Step forward, step back.

He wipes the tears from my cheeks with his fingers. His skin is rough and calloused, his touch as delicate as a beating wing.

"You're injured!" he says abruptly and lets go of me. "May I?"

I nod and lift my foot so he can examine it. He pulls out another piece of glass, then casually unwraps the scarf from my neck and uses it to bandage my foot. He pockets the money that tumbles out.

"I wanted to call you, but there was nobody I felt safe enough to borrow a cell from," I say, almost apologetically.

"You couldn't have talked to me anyway."

"Why?"

"Let's just say I was in a miserable state."

"Did you have an episode?"

He nods gravely. "I paid the damage, Lou. But it was…bad. Let's not talk about it. The important thing is that I didn't hurt anyone. So, tell me about your brothers instead, that's much more important."

"Bren, I want to know," I insist, pulling myself up with the hand he offers. "We belong together. Therefore, it's just as important to me to know how you're doing and vice versa."

He's smiling again and I'm relieved. I expected him to snap at me. "I'll tell you later, okay? The first priority is to get you somewhere warm while you tell me what happened."

Get you somewhere warm. Just the thought of it makes my teeth chatter and I become very aware of our situation. "We can't go back," I say, feeling the weariness in every bone.

"I hadn't planned on going back," he states as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He carries me on his back like last summer. Now he's confident and strong again. For some reason, there is no middle ground with him, he is either one or the other.

It's strange. Last year, I thought our situation was complicated. I was confused about my feelings. I was homesick and I wanted to go back to my brothers—but not leave Bren. My heart was split in two, one piece beating for Bren, the other for Ethan, Avery, Liam, and Jay. Today, it seems to me that last year's decision has finally been made. I chose Bren and I'm sure Ethan will accept it one day. He simply needs time to process everything. I can't expect him to fully grasp what happened in a week. In fact, I'm sure he will be sympathetic once he has thought about it a little longer. And once he understands, I'll see him and the others again. I simply have to. Still, there's one more thing I need to know.

"Bren?"

"Lou?"

"Ethan said you talked to him. Back at the RV. The day you kidnapped me."

He stops abruptly.

I keep talking. "They were looking for me. He says you lied to him and Liam."

"Yes." Darkness surrounds us.

Then it's true. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He continues toward the back exit of the park. Before he steps through the gate, he stops again. Cars pass in front of us on the road.

"Bren?"

He takes a deep breath. "It was bad…mean. I was ashamed, does that suffice as an answer?"

"Yes." Yes, of course. How could I even ask him about it? Clearly, he must feel ashamed. Besides, the question of whether he is a good person has long since been answered. Of course he lied to my brothers.

I cling to him tighter and nestle my cheek against his hair. He smells of damp leaves, resin, and cigarettes. A bit of melancholy even if that has no actual smell. I inhale this mixture deeply, but despite or because of my decision, I'm still scared. I tell myself it's because of the fight with Ethan and Avery, but the truth is, I'm scared of Bren, too. At least during moments like in the park. He predicted it right from the start when I was standing in front of the RV—and I assured him I could handle it. Now, however, I just feel overwhelmed. Maybe I'm simply exhausted.