by Gwyn McNamee
I really fucked this up tonight.
Gabe returns a few minute later and stands in front of me. He has the distinct glimmer of disappointment in his eyes, and isn’t that a motherfucking bitch. I wait for him to say something.
Moments turn into minutes. He’s waiting for me to talk first.
“I don’t know what you expect me to say.”
His eyes narrow, and he pinches his lips together. “Why don’t you just tell me why your sister is so smashed that she passed out in the bathroom and had to be carried out of the house?”
“Her boyfriend broke up with her today and then showed up with another girl at the party. She was just trying to unwind.”
Gabe scoffs and paces in front of the couch. “And you think it’s a good idea to let Star, who never drinks, get fucking wasted?”
“I’m not her mother, Gabe. She’s a big girl. She can make her own decisions.”
He clenches his hands behind his head. “Star is not you, okay? She’s not used to indulging the way you do. You and I both know this could’ve ended very, very badly. What would you have done if I wasn’t home on leave right now? Would you have called Savage or your mom? Would you have tried to drive home?”
Gabe’s lack of faith in me is really fucking pissing me off. “Jesus, Gabe, do you really think I’d be stupid enough to get behind the wheel of a car after I’ve been drinking? Give me some fucking credit already. I’m not a total idiot.”
He gives a short, sharp laugh and tosses his head back. “No, Skye, you’re not a total idiot and that’s what makes this even harder. You’re just as smart as Star. You’re just as capable as Star. But you choose to go off on your own and do whatever the fuck you want no matter how it affects other people. No one can ever rely on you for anything.”
Ouch, that one hurt.
Tears well up in my eyes, but I refuse to let Gabe see me cry. If I start crying, he’ll only continue to see me as a child.
FALL 2004
I don’t respond. I just sit and stare at Gabe. Anything I would say right now would probably be regretted later. He has no idea how much what he just said cut me.
I may bleed to death sitting right here on his couch.
“Look, Skye, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just wish you would take things a little bit more seriously.”
“I do take things seriously, Gabe. Very seriously. Why do you think I called you when I knew I couldn’t take care of her myself? It wasn’t just to avoid my mother and Savage. It’s because I knew, without a doubt, you would be here for us. I knew you would understand. You might not be happy about it. But you know why I did it.”
A storm rages in his eyes, mimicking the one raging inside my heart right now. This is the first real fight I’ve ever had with Gabe. We bicker, like any brother and sister do, even though I can never think of him as a brother, and he often steps in to mediate between me and Savage. But we’ve never actually fought. Not like this.
He knows I’m right.
“Come on, Gabe. You mean to tell me you didn’t go out and get drunk when you were my age? If so, that would be a fucking lie. I vividly remember you and Savage coming home late on weekend evenings totally smashed after Mom had already gone to bed. The fact that your curfew was so much later than ours and she didn’t bother to wait up for you two just goes to show how much leeway she gave the boys. Storm, Star, and I get treated differently because we’re girls.”
With a huff, he drops into the chair to my right. “Of course you’re treated differently, Skye. You’re much more vulnerable than Savage and I were at your age.”
I have to admit, he’s probably not wrong about that, but I’m not giving him the satisfaction of admitting it. He needs to stop thinking about me as someone who constantly needs a babysitter and protecting.
“You say ‘your age’ like I’m a child, Gabe. I’m sixteen, and you were my age only three years ago, so don’t act like you have some deep wisdom based on how long you’ve lived, oh ancient one.”
That manages to get him to crack a smile, but he sobers almost immediately. “It’s different for girls, Skye. Anything could’ve happened to Star while she was in that state. She could’ve been assaulted by someone at that party. How would you have felt if she had been hurt?”
The thought had crossed my mind. My stomach had been in my throat when I was checking all the rooms upstairs, and I prayed she wasn’t in any of them with a guy.
“Never let your guard down, Skye. Pay attention to your surroundings and everyone around you. I thought Savage, me, and your father had taught you that.”
I roll my eyes. “Gabe, I barely remember my father. I was only seven years old when he died. And Savage spends more time lecturing me than teaching me anything. He treats me like a child, just like you’re doing right now.”
His eyes narrow on me, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.
I can’t tear my eyes away from his mouth. I’d give anything to kiss him and feel those lips against mine. It’s the only thing I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.
“I’m not trying to treat you like a child, Skye. If that’s how it’s coming across, then I’m sorry. I just…”
He runs his hands over his short hair; it’s still weird to see it like that. When he came home on leave the first time, I did a double-take. I was so used to his longer blond locks that hung around his face. He looks so much more grown up like this even though he’s only nineteen.
“You just what?”
“I worry about you…”
My breath catches in my chest. He worries about me? That means he’s thinking about me when he’s not here.
“…and Star, and Storm for that matter.”
His clarification stabs my heart a little.
“If anything ever happened to any of you…I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I feel so fucking helpless being so far away from everyone all the time.”
That admission silences any reply I’m tempted to make. There’s nothing he can do about being away from us. When he made the choice to enlist, he did it knowing where it would take him and what he was sacrificing. I don’t need to make him feel worse by telling him how much we all worry about him, and how I lay awake at night praying he’s safe.
“We’re fine, Gabe. We have Savage here to lord over us like king of the damn castle. You know he’ll keep us in line.”
The corner of his mouth ticks up, and he nods. “Just remember, I will always be here for you, no matter what. That’s what family does. You can always count on me.”
PRESENT DAY
Lucas recoils, releases my hair, and curses, stepping back from me. He wipes his face, smearing my blood across his cheek and temple.
I want to laugh.
But nothing about this situation is funny.
There has been no sign of Skye, and I know I’m in trouble. My body shakes uncontrollably and my vision blurs in and out. I’m fairly certain Lucas is right about shock setting in soon.
He rubs his hands on his jeans and glares at me for a moment before turning his back to me and grabbing something off the table that was behind him.
When he turns back, a familiar sound makes my blood run cold.
Aww…fuck.
He just racked my gun.
My 1911 had been tucked into the holster on the side of my jeans.
The end of the barrel presses into my temple, and Lucas gets into my face again. “You think you’re funny? I’m in control here. So tell me who the fuck you are and why you’re here!”
SERE training is no fucking joke. I’ve been prepared for the worst of the worst in interrogation tactics. I can handle being beaten, burned, water-boarded, choked, drowned, and anything else anyone can think to throw at me. And this guy doesn’t have a fucking clue what he’s doing.
In war, remaining silent is imperative. Other than your name and rank, giving the enemy any information about yourself or your unit would be catastrophic.
But now, the only thing on
the line is Skye’s life, and I’m not doing her any good tied up here or dead, which I very well may be soon if I go into shock or piss this psycho off enough that he actually shoots me.
Something has to change in this dynamic. Maybe if I get him riled up enough, he’ll make a mistake I can take advantage of.
“Look, you psycho motherfucker, just tell me what you did with Skye.”
His reaction is unexpected.
He tilts his head and narrows his eyes. His brow furrows as he removes the gun from my head and takes a step back.
“Skye? This is about Skye?”
What the hell else did he think I was doing here?
Lucas paces the squeaky floorboards in front of me, rubbing his left hand on the back of his neck while his right clutches my gun in a death-grip so tight, I can see his white knuckles. When he starts mumbling to himself, my blood runs cold.
Why is he so confused?
The fact I haven’t seen Skye sits at the forefront of my foggy mind.
Maybe his mental break is bad enough he doesn’t remember what he did with her. Maybe he doesn’t even know where he put her.
Shit.
Another shudder rolls through me and the shivering intensifies. I need to keep my shit together if I’m ever going to find her.
Lucas stops midstride and turns to me, his eyes wild and frantic. I come face to face with the end of the gun barrel. “Who the fuck are you, and what do you want with Skye?”
He really doesn’t know why I’m here.
Why wouldn’t he expect someone to come looking for her?
Answering him when he’s unstable and has a gun pointed at me will get me nowhere and may enrage him more. Remaining silent at least buys me some time.
Time for him to hopefully let something slip about what he did with her.
The gun shakes in his hand, and he pulls on his hair with the other one. “If you won’t answer me, I’ll figure it out myself. I have all the time in the world. You, on the other hand, do not.”
He turns toward the door, and with a quick backward glance at me, throws it open to the tempest outside. It slams behind him. An engine starts and lights flood through the front windows before the sound of his Jeep disappears into the roaring storm.
I may be alone, but I don’t have much time.
It’s only a matter of minutes before he locates my Hummer near the road, and then he’ll be back. But I’ll be ready.
Lucas has clearly never been trained on how to properly tie up a captive. The chair I’m tied to is old and the wood doesn’t seem very stable. I tug my hands forward until they meet the resistance of the slat between them.
“Fuck!”
The pain radiating from my left shoulder overtakes my senses. I grit my teeth and try to breathe through it.
Pain isn’t permanent.
Skye.
Think about Skye. She’s the reason you’re doing this.
I inhale a deep breath, gather all my energy and jerk forward, yanking my hands against the slat as hard as I can. The searing in my shoulder only intensifies and the slat didn’t break.
“Motherfucker!”
I repeat the process a second time, feeling a little give in the slat, but again, it doesn’t break.
“Son of a fucking bitch!”
The recovery time to catch my breath is longer. The pain makes my stomach roil and taking deep breaths seems to do nothing this time.
I conjure an image of Skye in my head—her black hair fanned out like a halo against the white pillowcase as she stares up at me with a smile on her lips and in her eyes.
Just do it, Gabe.
As long as I don’t pass out, I should be able to break it, and I can free my legs from where they’re tied to the chair legs.
The sound of Lucas’ Jeep on the gravel outside hits my ears; it’s now or never.
With a quick, forceful jerk, the slat breaks away and my hands are free. The scream that’s ripped from my lungs is deafening to my own ears. I just pray Lucas didn’t hear it.
The engine still running outside gives me a glimmer of hope. I have only seconds to free my legs. It would be impossible with one hand, but luckily, Lucas is a true amateur, and didn’t remove the knife from my boot.
With a flick of my wrist, my legs are free. I grip my left bicep and hold my arm steady while I try to stand.
The room spins, and I topple sideways, barely managing to catch myself by grabbing onto the small table to the right of me. The knife tumbles from my hand to the floor.
This is going to hurt, but I’ll be a lot better off if I can get my shoulder back in the socket. I grip my bicep and shove up as I drop my torso down.
I bite back the scream when it pops back in. The pain immediately ebbs. I won’t have full use of it, and it will still hurt like a motherfucker, but at least I can move it now.
The engine stops. I barely have time to get upright before the door swings open.
Damnit.
My wallet in his left hand and the rage in his eyes tell me he’s finally made the connection. “You’re Gabe? Did you fuck my girlfriend?”
Girlfriend?
I scoff and lock my eyes on his. “She was never your girlfriend.”
He growls and glances down to where my gun is tucked into his waistband as he reaches for it with his right hand.
Rookie mistake.
His moment of distraction is all I need to grab the knife from the floor and close the distance between us. I slam into him, pushing him up against the wall of the cabin, and jabbing my knife into his upper arm, straight into the brachial artery.
It hits home, and he cries out, dropping the gun and knocking the knife from my hand when he goes to clutch at his arm. Blood spurts out between his fingers but his eyes return to me just before his knee connects with my stomach, knocking me back.
The moment he has room, he drops and lunges for the gun.
Without hesitation, I dive on his back and reach over his shoulder for the gun but it’s already in his hand. In an instant, he rolls sideways under me and fires.
Bang.
I thought I knew what pain was, but this…this is something else entirely. The fire of a thousand suns is centered on my abdomen. I slump to the floor and roll onto my back.
Before I can even take a breath, Lucas is standing over me with the gun pointed at my face.
Well, shit.
This is not how I imagined I would go.
Bang.
A crimson hole spreads on Lucas’ chest. He teeters and collapses onto me, sending me into a renewed battle with my new friend agony.
I should be toast. But instead, Lucas is a dead weight on my chest. Breathing is damn near impossible with the combined pressure and pain. I can’t hold my head up anymore.
Blackness encroaches on the corners of my vision.
What…how…
Someone’s talking…
Who…
Shuffling and grunting.
The weight’s gone.
Air floods my lungs.
I can breathe.
Small, cold hands find my face and turn it up, but my eyelids are as leaden as my useless arms.
“Gabe!”
That’s my name.
“Gabe, open your eyes.” A tearing sound rends the air. Cool air hits my skin.
The hands move down my body to my chest and across my stomach, then up and down my arms, and legs. “Fuck! Dammit…Gabe, don’t you fucking die on me. I can’t lose you too.”
Lose me?
Fingers press into my neck and someone mumbles something about pulse…blood loss…
Banging.
Cursing.
Something warm next to me. Something wet dripping on me, then more burning and searing pain in my abdomen. I reach over to put my hand there, but someone swats it away.
More tearing.
“I’m sorry, Gabe, but this is going to hurt.”
Hurt?
Already hurt so much.
I reach ou
t toward the voice but my hand is swatted away.
“Knock it off. Don’t move.”
That voice. Only one person is that bossy with me.
Skye.
But, how? The blackness surrounding me encroaches rapidly; it’s so welcoming…
She shakes me, sending ripples of pain throughout my body. “Fuck!”
“Sorry, but you need to stay awake. I need to pack the gunshot wound and wrap it so you don’t bleed out. Don’t you dare pass out on me! I need you to help me get you into the car.”
Car?
I struggle to open my eyes and reach out until my hand finds her arm. “Where are we going?”
She laughs and squeezes my hand before moving it back down to the side of my body. “The hospital, you asshole.”
I force my eyes open. A fuzzy version of her tear-streaked face hovers over me. She shoves something hard between my teeth. The faint taste of wood fills my mouth, mingling with the copper taste of blood.
“Bite down and promise not to hate me after this.”
Hate her? Why would I…
Motherfucker!
My scream is muffled by whatever my teeth are grinding into and, despite my delirium, I can still hear her apologizing over and over again while she presses and prods at me.
“Shit, Gabe. What the fuck were you thinking coming out here?”
I spit out whatever she put in my mouth and swallow, trying to find my voice through the pain. “I came for you.”
Her hands find my face again, and she holds it steady until my eyes meet hers. “I know you did. You always told me you would. And I came for you.”
The words don’t make any sense to me…she came for me?
I don’t have the time, energy, or coherence to analyze them.
Sleep. That’s what I need, to sleep.
I let my eyes slide closed and it feels so damn good.
“No! Gabe, wake up!” I shake his head until his eyes reluctantly slide back open. His dilated pupils don’t react when I shine my flashlight in them and are a sure sign of a concussion. Coupled with the gunshot wound, and the fact I’m pretty sure he’s borderline hypothermic, he is in real trouble. And that’s just the stuff I can see.