The Way We Burn

by M. Leighton

  “Carly, I don’t have the answers. I wish I did. I’ve been winging this since my wife and daughter were taken from a park two years ago. I’m just trying to survive. Just like you.”

  “Oh, God, Noah,” she whimpers, walking slowly toward me and pressing her face into my shoulder. Her arms slither around my waist and she tightens them, as tight as she can, like she’s trying to hold us together.

  Because we might be falling apart.

  Or doing something that will tear us apart.

  Or maybe both.

  “Call it in,” she mumbles against my shirt. “Then get me the hell out of here. I can’t stand to breathe the same air as him.”

  Relief washes through me. Such profound relief, I’m dizzy with it. I widen my stance and brace myself so that I don’t waver. Carly needs me to be her rock right now, and rocks don’t waver.

  I take my phone from my pocket and dial Gregory. I tuck my wife under my arm and turn to guide her from the bathroom. Before I can stop her, she wrenches from my grasp, yanks the knife from my hand and lunges at the tub.

  Dazed, I watch Carly’s arm sweep back in a graceful arc. It’s a slow, beautiful movement. The flicker of lightning before the deafening crack of thunder.

  Hand descends toward Finch.

  Knife plunges into crotch.

  Blade disappears to handle.

  One heartbeat.

  Two.

  Carly twists then jerks up on the hilt so hard that the tendons in her forearm strain. In the quiet, I hear it rip viciously through tissue, nerves and veins.

  Three heartbeats.

  Four.

  There is utter silence for ten long seconds. I’m stunned, Finch is still unconscious and my wife…

  I look up when she turns to me. Her lips curl into a smug smile. I recognize that look.

  “He won’t be using that anytime soon.”

  Simone.

  I watch, mouth agape, as she dusts off her hands like her work here is done, walks four steps out of the bathroom, and collapses onto the carpet.

  29

  Noah

  I sweep my wife up into my arms and carry her to the bed. I don’t lay her down. I don’t let her go. As it was from day one, I can’t. I can’t let her go. She’s my world, my universe. My everything. I’ve fought too hard to find her, to get her back. Not a chance I’m letting her go now.

  I cradle her against my chest and wait for her to wake. With my free hand, I dial Gregory. I wasn’t able to call it in before Simone popped in to throw a wrench in that plan. But I have time now.

  He answers on the second ring.

  “Gregory.”

  “It’s me. Listen, I have a favor to ask, but I can’t really tell you much now. We need to talk. I’ll explain everything. But right now, I need you to get an ambulance to my location. I’ll drop you a pin as soon as I get off here. When you get here, you’ll find Carter Finch in the bathtub. He’s injured, but alive.”

  “Carter Finch ?” he interrupts incredulously. “Noah, what the hell?”

  “I told you I’ll explain later. Just come to my place when you wrap up here. We can write it up then.”

  He only hesitates for a quarter of a minute, but still…he hesitates. “All right, brother. You got it.”

  I knew he wouldn’t like it, but this is the best way to handle things, I think. Gregory knows me. Has for years. And he knew Carly, too. I think he’ll be on board with this. And if he’s not, I won’t involve him. He can just walk away.

  “Thanks, man. Be seeing you soon.”

  We hang up and it can’t be more than a minute or two before Carly wakes up. I see the flutter of her long, long lashes a tenth of a second before she opens those gorgeous eyes and looks up at me. I say nothing. My heart is in my throat as I wait to see who she is. I’m fairly certain she’s not Simone. Simone has this look about her, no matter what she’s wearing, what she’s doing, that comes across as raw and sexual. Even her eyes, the same eyes that belong to Poppy and Carly, show it.

  But these eyes don’t. I’m almost positive this is one of the other two, and still I’m hoping for Carly.

  “Noah?”

  “I’m here, baby.” I stroke her cheek, her temple, the curve of her jaw. I brush a strand of wig hair off her forehead.

  “You stayed.”

  “Of course I stayed.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I love you. My place is with you. Always.”

  Her eyes fill with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  Her mouth works as though she’s trying to speak, but her forehead is wrinkled into a frown of confusion.

  “I…I don’t know. I just feel so…so…heavy. And sorrowful. I feel like I’ve done something awful, but I…I…”

  I rub my thumb over her trembling lips, whispering to her, “Shhhh, baby. Don’t worry about that now. Everything’s gonna be fine. I promise.” I bend to press my mouth to the corner of her hers, injecting as much confidence and calm into my words and my touch as I possibly can. If I could just make her see, make her feel that everything will be all right.

  Because it will.

  No matter what.

  Whatever I have to do, I’m going to make sure my wife is safe and happy. That she can get the help she needs, whether it’s here or in a non-extradition country. I have a plan for either course of action.

  Since I began to piece together what she was into as Simone, I realized that it might come to the point of having to run. The man in me who has dedicated his life to bringing criminals down squirms a little at the thought. I’d like to have more faith in our justice system, but I’m realistic enough to acknowledge that it doesn’t always work out like it should. So ideal situation or not, if it means keeping Carly out of trouble—especially when she had no real idea what she was doing—I’ll do whatever I have to do, even if that means running.

  “How do you know?” she asks tearfully.

  “Because I know you. And I know me. I know that there are no lengths I won’t go to for you. I’d have killed the man lying in the bathtub a few feet away from us if it had come to that. I’d kill for you. I’d die for you. Everything else…well that part’s easy. We can figure it out as we go.”

  “But why? Why would you do that for me? I’m not worth it.”

  The guilt she carries, even though she’s not even sure why she carries it and has no idea what the details of it are, is like a knife to my chest. She didn’t ask for this. She didn’t ask for it and she didn’t deserve it. She’s the victim here, no matter what she’s done to criminals along the way.

  And I believe that down to the bottom of my soul. Carter Finch is pure evil. He tortured my wife. In ways most of us will never understand, he tortured her. She coped the best she could, and when she couldn’t cope anymore, her mind took over and did it for her in the only way it could find. It’s rare for an adult to experience a complete disassociation like she has. It has to be a significant trauma to cause it. Something that shatters a person’s world.

  But he did it. Carter Finch destroyed her whole world.

  But that’s not her fault. Neither is what’s happened over the last few months. What she needs now is help and healing, not blame or a prison sentence. And hell if I’ll let it happen any other way. Carly is going to get her life back, her smile back, her happiness back if it’s the last thing I do on this earth.

  “You are worth it. You’re worth anything. Everything. You’re my moon, my sun. My stars and my heaven. You’re my whole damn galaxy. Life is shit without you in it. You’re my ‘why’.”

  “You should leave me behind, Noah. Go. Save yourself. You’ll find someone else.”

  I bite back a sigh of frustration. I know this is a product of everything that’s happened. It’s not my Carly .

  “There will never be someone else for me. I loved you as Carly, as Poppy, as Simone. And, believe it or not, you fell in love with me, too. Because I’m yours and you’re mine. Forever. We’re
written in ink. Tattooed inside each other, in the only place that matters. So, no, there will never be another woman for me. Not ever. You’re not getting rid of me, no matter how hard you try. No matter what you do or what your name is. You’re mine. Mine. You got it?”

  I give her what I hope is a wry grin.

  “God, Noah. How did we get here?”

  She presses her forehead to my chest and sighs. I know her question is rhetorical, so I say nothing, just hold her and wait. Wait for help to come. Wait for Finch to rouse. Wait for the next step, whatever that is.

  But wait I will. I’ve come this far. I’m not turning back now.

  30

  Noah

  W ith Carly awake and, for the moment, herself, I don’t waste any time getting her the hell out of dodge as soon as it’s prudent to do so. We huddle close and keep our heads down as we descend the staircase and walk across the parking lot to my car rather than the one she’d been using.

  I drive straight to my place.

  Carly is moving slowly by the time we arrive. She isn’t saying much and she doesn’t even ask about my apartment. She just raises her face to mine, her eyes clearly burdened, and asks, “Do you have any Tylenol? My head’s killing me.”

  I lead her to the bed, pull back the covers and wait for her to snuggle in. When she’s situated, I go for a glass of water and something for her headache. I know the stress of what just happened, coupled with the switching is responsible for her pain. Evidently it’s a common complaint among people with multiple personalities. Going from one to the other and dealing with the “missed time” in between causes a headache.

  Her lids are already dropping when I return. She takes the pills and then I hold out my hand. “Give me your contacts. I’ll throw them out.”

  I don’t want her to know how anxious I am to see her, as my Carly, with her green eyes again. I saw Poppy and Simone without the contacts a time or two, but they weren’t my wife. Not fully. But this…this will be the woman I married, right down to her beautiful green eyes.

  She frowns. “I wear contacts?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “But I won’t be able to see.”

  “You keep some in your purse.”

  “Oh,” she replies, her voice as small and delicate as she appears right now.

  Obediently, she pinches the thin lenses from her eyes and hands them to me. I curl my fingers around them, wishing getting rid of this whole mess and her need for Poppy and Simone were so easy.

  “The wig, too. I want you to be comfortable.”

  She snatches it off her head and hands it to me without question. The only thing left of the other two women is the light brown hair. I don’t know whether she’ll dye it back or just let it fade. Honestly, I have no idea what to expect over the coming months. From Carly, from Poppy and Simone, from life. All I know is that I have my wife back and we can do anything together, get through anything together.

  When she lies back, her eyes are focused on mine. Her chin begins to tremble. “I know you’ve seen me, and, to me, I just saw you back at home, but…in my heart,” she says, her voice watery with emotion, “I’ve missed you.”

  I drop into a squat beside the bed, my face only inches from hers. “You don’t have to miss me. I’m not going anywhere. I haven’t yet and I don’t plan to. Ever.”

  I place a tender kiss on her lips, looking into her big soulful eyes one more time before I rise. “Get some rest. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

  “And you’ll be here?”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Her smile is tentative, like she knows there are a thousand things out of my control, but she wants to believe me anyway. Right now, that’s enough. It’ll have to be.

  I turn and walk toward the door, but her calling my name stops me before I can exit.

  “Noah?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Ca-can you stay with me until I fall asleep? I just want to feel your arms around me. I-I need you.”

  God, I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that. So much has happened, I wasn’t sure if I could ever be what she needed again. What could help her and comfort her. What could make her feel safe and loved. When she ran, became someone else, it hurt. I stopped lying to myself about that a long time ago. It hurt a helluva lot. But I understood it wasn’t intentional. It’s not like she chose to leave me, leave our life and our home, but still…

  I’ve carried those questions and worries for months now, wondering how things would be, how she’d feel if she ever made it out of her self-imposed respite from the pain of her life. Maybe this is a good sign.

  I sure as shit hope so.

  Without a word, I toss the wig and the contacts into the corner and walk to the bed. I pull back the covers and she moves toward the center of the bed. I crawl in beside her and draw her into my arms.

  She throws her arm over my stomach, like she has since we first moved in together, and her warmth seeps into the cold places of my soul, the places that couldn’t be sure we would ever find our way back here again.

  I smooth her hair and snug her head against my chest, inhaling the scent of her. That’s one thing that has never changed. She still smells like my wife, not matter what name she’s using or what kind of clothes she’s wearing.

  I feel a single wet tear slide down my cheek as I lay my hand over hers and wait for her to fall asleep.

  * * *

  Nearly two hours later, there’s a knock at the door. It’s Gregory. He looks…exasperated when he walks in.

  “Man, what the hell?” he asks, running his fingers through his hair.

  “I hated to do that to you, but listen what I have to say first. Alright?”

  He exhales loudly. “Alright, but get me a drink first.”

  I pour us both two fingers of Jack and tip my head for Gregory to come join me in the kitchen. He does a double take as he passes the bedroom door. He hikes his thumb that way, his mouth agape, and says, “Is that—”

  I hold a finger to my lips and nod.

  He walks on into the kitchen and he leans up against the cabinets directly across from me, his brows lifted in a silent question.

  “It’s a long story, but I’m gonna break it down to nuts and bolts for you. You have my word, though, that if shit goes sideways, I’ll swear you didn’t know.”

  “Didn’t know what?”

  “Obviously, I found Carly.”

  “Obviously. Like you obviously found Carter Finch, too.”

  “That wasn’t me. That was Carly.”

  “How long have you known where she ran off to?”

  “I found her a month after she left.”

  “How? There were a shit ton of people looking for her.”

  “I kept looking for Finch.”

  “You were taken off that case.”

  I give him a withering look. “And you knew I’d really honor that, right?”

  He shrugs. “I wondered why you gave up. That didn’t seem like you.”

  “I didn’t. I’d never give up on her. Or him. Never.”

  “So,” Gregory begins, shaking his head and frowning like he’s trying to piece it all together. “Where did you find Carly? And why didn’t you tell anybody?”

  “The FBI put me on mandatory leave for a month then they required me to see a therapist before they’d let me back in the field. I saw a guy in Maryland and then when I got a lead on Carly, I had him recommend someone here in Chicago. I’ve been talking to him about Carly, about what’s been going on with her. He’s the one who advised me to wait this out, give her time.”

  “Wait what out?”

  I take a deep breath. “When Savannah…died, Carly didn’t recover like we thought she did. I mean, I knew she was hurting. We both were. But I didn’t realize how Finch…damaged her. Her personality split and she entered a fugue state. Left Carly Williamson completely behind. Took on two new identities. Moved out here and started a life, a life she thought she had a hist
ory for. She had no idea what was going on.”

  “Holy fu—” Gregory says, but I shush him with a hand clamped over his mouth.

  “I don’t want to wake her up,” I tell him in the same soft, even tone I’ve been using.

  “Sorry. Go on.”

  He sips his Jack. I down mine before I continue, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “She just couldn’t cope with what she’d seen, what she’d been through. What he did to her baby.” I get choked up just thinking about it. I clear my throat. “Anyway, I was tracking an alias Carter Finch had been known to use. Didn’t turn up anything on him, but it did lead me to Carly. At first I thought maybe he’d found her, too, so I kept a close eye on her. It wasn’t until recently that I realized one of her personalities was doing some undercover work of her own, trying to track him down.

  “Anyway, I transferred to this office, as you know. I didn’t know it at first, but those couple of shitbags we were looking into, the ones that were suspected of raping and killing that girl in Michigan…well, that’s where things sorta get sticky.”

  I straighten away from the counter and look my partner right in the eye. “Man, you’re my brother. You know that. That’s why I’m gonna stop right here if you don’t want to know anymore. I wouldn’t ever ask you to lie for me. Or for Carly. Never want you to take a bullet that’s meant for me.”

  Gregory straightens, too. “Let me stop you right there,” he says with one palm held out at me. “You’re good people. You and Carly both. What happened to you two…” He shakes his head. “We’re family and you know we don’t let the criminals mess with family. Tell me the rest. I’ll have your back. I figured you’d know that, but…”

  He shrugs and I smile.

  “I thought you’d say that, but I wanted to give you the option.”

  “Consider me opting in then.”

  “Okay, so Carly’s been operating a dark web business behind a blog. It’s set up to lure in guys like Finch, guys like the ones we spend our lives trying to find. She sets it up to look like she’s giving them what they want—everything from captives to BDSM to…disposable hookers—and when they meet, they get one helluva a surprise. She was running a second operation that sells…well, homicide. Killing. She was setting up these rapists and killers to be the victims for some other sick bastards who just want to kill.”