by Jacob Chance
Fuck. We’re not getting out - not this way.
“We need to get back in your apartment,” I shout as the ceiling above us collapses.
Janny falls to the ground with one arm raised above her head and the other, the one still tightly gripping the pink bat, covering her stomach. I immediately jump in, shielding her with my body as she screams.
“Get up and get back inside,” I shout as the flaming debris pummels my back.
The smoke inside her apartment is so thick we can barely see each other. Slamming the door shut, I pull the burning coat off my back, stomping out the flames against the floor.
“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Janny begins to cry.
“No, we’re not going to die,” I shout.
“I’m going to save your ass so you can forgive me for the horrible things I did to you. That’s why I came here,” I continue. “I need your forgiveness and we’re not dying before I get it.”
Peering out the large window in her living room, I notice it’s a short drop of ten feet, to the ground outside.
“Come on. We’re going this way.”
I can’t open the crank out window, the handle is stuck and I don’t have time to waste fucking with it. I kick the window, but the triple pane glass is too strong. I search for something, anything I can use to break through it.
“Janny, I need the bat.” I fight to keep my tone calm.
She retreats a few steps and strengthens her grip on the handle.
“Janny I’m sorry, for everything.” I keep my distance. She stares at me, but doesn’t answer.
“Please, Janny. Give me the bat. Let me do this.”
She steps back one more time, then loosens her grip, sliding the bat across the floor in my direction. Snatching it up without hesitation, I turn toward the window.
“Stand back,” I order.
It takes three swings before the glass finally shatters. The rush of air pulls the fire from the hallway into the apartment and we only have seconds left to get out. Turning to Janny, I see the fear in her eyes. I reach my hand out. “You have to trust me.”
She doesn’t move at first but the flames are climbing the walls all around us and I see the resignation on her face. She knows this is our only way out. “Please. My baby,” she sobs uncontrollably as she steps next to me.
I reach out and grip her hand, squeezing it to get her attention. “You’re going to make a great mom.” I smile.
She smiles back between sobs. I gently scoop her up, stepping over to the window. I slide her legs through the opening first, then brace myself against the wall underneath as she turns toward me, grabbing my hands.
The fire is now inches away along the walls on either side of me and directly over my head on the ceiling. Janny looks up into my eyes as she stretches out, reaching with her toes to touch ground beneath the window. I ease her down until she makes contact and releases my hands. She steps away to the curb as I quickly drop down through the opening.
We’re out. She’s safe. They’re safe.
I brush the debris off my shirt and notice Janny’s now surrounded by her neighbors. They’re guiding her back to the side lot where she’ll be safe. She repeatedly turns to look at me as I follow several yards behind them. I can hear bits of the conversation going on around me. Something about a space heater and it being an accident.
The sound of sirens in the distance become closer as we reach the rest of the survivors.
There’s so much I want to say - too much for this moment.
Her blue eyes are wide as she hears the sirens as well. Our gazes lock for a moment, before she nods and smiles. “Go Zack.”
I stare into her eyes for a final second knowing this is the last time I’ll ever see her. I turn without a word and walk back to my vehicle. I glance in her direction one final time before I get in and leave her for good.
I smile as I drive away. She’ll make a great mom.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lana
All day at work today I can barely focus on what I need to. Zack has consumed my thoughts. I’m so torn. I want to hate him for everything he did, but I can’t. I love him too much for it all to just disappear. It’s going to take ages for these feelings to go away and I’m not sure they ever will.
Christopher’s been gone for a long time and I’ll always love him. I’m sure with Zack it will be the same.
Kyle got an emergency call in the middle of the afternoon and rushed out of work. Neither Derek nor I had any idea what was going on. I worried about Janny and the baby for the rest of my work day. It wasn’t until I got home and called Kenna that I realized what had happened.
Zack saved Janny’s life. I still can’t believe it. He went there to apologize and ended up saving her life.
I want to talk to him. To tell him I’m proud of him for going over Janny’s and facing the possibility she might call the police on him. For once, he did the right thing.
I slip on my shoes and grab my keys before slipping out my door. I pause in front of his door. Should I, or shouldn’t I? I raise my hand and rap on his door. If I don’t talk to him now I may never get the opportunity. I knock again, but he doesn’t answer. The doorknob turns under my hand and I enter his apartment. Everything looks the same for the most part. The only thing missing is Zack. I walk further inside, glancing around. The framed picture he had of the two of us is missing off his end table and in its place, is a piece of paper.
Never doubt my love for you, Lana. Thank you for teaching me how to be a better man.
I burst into tears. I didn’t teach him how to be a better man. He did it all on his own. I know him leaving is the best thing for all of us, but I wish he hadn’t agreed so easily. If he hadn’t he still might be here and I could have told him I changed my mind - told him I don’t want him to leave. I could have gone with him. Now it’s too late.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zack
NINE MONTHS LATER
My fingers trace over the curve of the wood, seeking out any rough spots or imperfections. I slide the fine grit sandpaper, gently back and forth with the grain of the wood until it’s smooth as silk - as smooth as Lana’s skin.
Don’t think about her.
I remind myself a hundred times a day, but it doesn’t do any good. She’s always there. She always will be and I prefer she stay that way. She’s what keeps me moving forward each day.
The memories of our time together will fuel me for the rest of my life. I’m never going to let another woman in like I did Lana. I can’t imagine being with anyone but her.
“How’s it coming along?” Paolo, my mentor asks as he walks up behind me.
“Almost there,” I reply as I sand one final spot. I rub my fingers over the area one more time.
“You get better and better with each piece. Soon you won’t need me anymore,” he jokes.
My eyes flick to him and I grin. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”
Paolo is more than a mentor to me. He’s my only friend, my confessor and my therapist all rolled into one. I treasure his friendship. He saved me from the dark abyss I was in when I first got here.
When I left Boston, I didn’t have plans to settle down in one place. My only thought was to go someplace far from Lana and the temptation to see her. I wanted her to be free of me. I knew I didn’t deserve her and asking her to choose me over the life she had in Boston wouldn’t be fair.
How I ended up here on Rangiroa was just a stroke of luck.
How I met Paolo the first day here was a coincidence too big for me to ignore.
I caught a taxi ride to a popular cafe recommended to me by the person seated next to me on the flight. I entered the cafe, suitcase in hand and settled on the last stool, at the end of the counter. I tucked my suitcase in front of me the best I could, and let my eyes roam around. I caught the stare of the guy sitting next to me.
“Hi,” I mumbled to be polite, but not intending to converse with anyone. One word ende
d up sparking the beginning of an amazing friendship.
Paolo was the man seated next to me at lunch. When I heard, he made furniture out of exotic woods, it seemed fated we met. My mind flashed back to the conversation Lana and I had engaged in a few months’ prior over our hot chocolate.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you if you’d decided what you wanted to do,” she mentioned before taking the final sip of her hot chocolate.
I shook my head. “I’m not sure yet. Maybe I’ll live on a tropical island and learn a trade like carpentry. I can make furniture from exotic woods for the rest of my life.”
Thinking about the conversation I had with Lana was the reassurance I needed, I was meant to be here.
I smiled and dug into my meal with gusto. I’m not a believer in coincidences and this was an enormous one.
That day was the first time I ever felt like there was a higher power and it was no accident I had survived the fire and ended up on Rangiroa.
“We had another order come in for ten more of those tables you made from Bloodwood.”
“Nice. I thought those would be a big seller,” I answer wiping the wood shavings off with a soft cloth.
The door chimes as a new customer enters the store. Paolo hurries out to the front to be of service. He’s a people person, unlike me. Being tucked away back here in the workshop is just how I like it. I can lose myself in crafting furniture. It keeps my mind busy. It keeps my thoughts off Lana. Goddammit.
Why can’t I get her out of my mind for more than an hour at a time?
The nights are the worst. The memories I keep at bay during the day seep into my mind as I lie in bed. I relive every magical moment of our time together. We packed more love in a few months than most people get in a lifetime.
“Are you the person I’m supposed to talk to if I want to order a custom piece of furniture?” a female voice asks from behind me.
I freeze mid task. Chills rush down my spine. My fingers go numb. It can’t be.
I close my eyes and breathe deep. My lids open when I exhale and I rise to my full height. I slowly turn around and gasp when I find Lana standing there. She smiles tremulously through her tears.
“I can’t decide if I want to kiss you or kill you for leaving me so easily.” She laughs and cries at the same time.
My tongue is thick in my mouth. I can’t believe she’s standing in front of me. My eyes reacquaint themselves with every inch of her while I pray for my ability to speak to return.
She walks toward me; her pink flip flops make a scuffing sound on the concrete floor. I take in her long, lean legs in her cutoff shorts and her favorite Washington University t-shirt. She looks the same, only better. She looks perfect.
She stops in front of me, our eyes lock and I can’t look away. I see everything I’ve been through reflecting back at me. Anger. Loneliness. Heartache. Disappointment. But, more than anything I see love.
My fingers grip her face and I capture her mouth with mine. I let my kiss tell her the tale of the past nine months. I show how much I’ve missed her, how much I still love her and always will. The salty taste of tears invades our kiss as our tears mix. I’m overcome with emotion and I couldn’t stop them from falling if I tried. Her hands burrow in my hair and I never want her to let go.
I pull my lips from hers and press my forehead to hers. “I love you,” I croak. “I never thought I’d see you again.” I press my lips to hers once more. “How did you find me?”
“I tracked you down. It wasn’t easy, but I’m not one to shy away from a challenge.” She smirks. “I hacked into your previous job’s database and found your information.” My hands slide down to wrap around her waist. “But that didn’t do me any good because there was no sign of you anywhere. Whoever wiped you out of the system did a good job. Since I couldn’t follow the money trail between your accounts, I finally hacked into Logan Airport’s database and found all the flight information for the dates after you left. That was the easy part.” Her hands leave my hair and move to my chest. “After that, I had to use some of my social engineering skills to get here. It took me a while because I had to consider each of the locations I got from hacking into the airport’s database.” She pats my chest with both her palms. “Before I could come, I had to erase our tracks so no one will ever find us. When I got to the cafe and heard about this store, I knew I had found you.”
“How did you know where I’d be?”
“You told me.” She playfully points at me.
I tip my head to the side. “Do you pay attention to everything you’re told?” I question.
She taps the end of my nose with her index finger. “Only when it’s you doing the telling.”
Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
“Hey, babe,” Lana yells as she enters our house - the house we just moved into - the house I built with my own two hands.
I meet her in the entryway. “I missed you,” I say as my lips seek hers out. I miss her when she’s at work all day. I’ve told her a million times, she doesn’t need to work, but she insists on it. She loves her job as a computer science teacher at the local high school.
When Lana moved here to be with me, she gave up everything familiar to her. She cut ties with everyone she was friends with to protect me. Even her family doesn’t know where she really lives. She went back to Seattle a few months ago, for a visit. I was worried she’d have a change of heart and not return to Rangiroa. Not only did she return, she showed me how much she missed me.
I never imagined I’d love someone as much as I love Lana or someone would love me as much in return.
I’ve shared all the sordid details of my past with her. She knows everything there is to know about me. The good, the bad and the ugly. There was a lot of ugly to tell her about.
I’m even seeing a counselor each week to help me heal all the hurts of my abusive childhood and to understand why I felt the need to cause others so much pain. I carry a lot of guilt with me for the horrible things I’ve done.
My life with Lana has been a new beginning for me and each day I strive to be the best person I can. She loves me and that gives me hope I’m not a lost cause. Somehow, she was able to forgive me for my mistakes and there isn’t a day that goes by I’m not grateful. She’s the moral compass keeping me moving in the right direction.
Now, there are no more secrets between us.
Loved Zack and Lana?
Read on for the extended epilogue
Extended Epilogie
Zack
Six Years Later
Peering out the open kitchen window, I slip my fingers between my lips and let loose a piercing whistle. Turning around, I lean back against the granite counter, waiting. Seconds later, like clockwork, the back screen door creaks open before slamming shut.
Two sets of sneakers pound against the hardwood floor, moving closer at an accelerated pace. Laughter echoes toward me, and my lips part in a smile just before my two curly headed five year old sons come to a skidding half inside the kitchen doorway.
“How did we do?” Zavier, the oldest twin, asks. He has a habit of taking the lead in most situations over his brother. And Zaine is more than happy to let him do so.
I glance at my watch. “Fourteen seconds. Not bad. You shaved one second off yesterday’s time.” I hold my hand up, and they take turns high fiving me. This is a new game we’ve been playing. Both boys want to be “superheroes” fast.
“What’s for dinner, Daddy?” Zaine questions. These boys can eat like a professional football team. I’m not sure where they put it all. Tall and lean for their age, their wiry builds remind me of myself as a youngster.
“Spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread and salad.”
“Salad?” Zavier turns his nose up like it’s a dirty word.
“Yes, you heard me right. Wash your hands and have a seat.”
I dish out their meals while they clean themselves up, then set their plates on the table in front of them. “Eat up.”
/> “I don’t want salad,” Zavier mutters.
“Zav, if you cover it with spaghetti it tastes better,” Zaine tells him as he demonstrates his theory.
Zavier, looking skeptical, tentatively spears a tiny piece of lettuce onto his fork before dipping it into the noodles and sauce. Scooping it into his mouth, he chews and shrugs. Clearly, he’s undecided, but at least he tried it.
“Da da. Da da,” Leia, my eighteen month old daughter, calls for me from her high chair. Never one to go without attention, she raises her arms toward me, chanting, “up, up, up, up.”
I smile at her painfully adorable face. Even smeared with spaghetti sauce from cheeks to chin, she’s the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen.
Plucking some wet wipes from the container we keep handy at all times, I wipe her dirty, little face and hands until she’s clean once more. Leaning forward, I press a kiss to her tiny button nose. “Did you like your spaghetti?”
She nods. “Up, up. Da da, up. Da da, up. Up,” she yells. With each word, her voice gets louder, and the tone more urgent.
Unhooking the belt, I lift her from the chair. Pressing a kiss to her soft red hair, I pause and think about how quickly time passes. It seems like only yesterday that the boys were babies too. They used to need me for everything and now they’re becoming more independent with every passing minute.
Staring down into Leia’s vivid green eyes so much like Lana’s, I anticipate and dread the motley crew of boys who will line up to date her once she’s a teenager. It’s a good thing she has two older brothers—protective older brothers to watch out for her. And let’s not forget about me. I may have changed my ways, but does a damaged soul ever completely heal? All it would take to send me over the edge again is someone hurting my family.