At First Touch
Page 26
“Anyway, this went on for a while, a few days. They’d let me sleep a few hours and then they’d come back, wake me up, and work on me some more. Every time I tried to fight them they’d just flip that switch. I was terrified of that pain. I would have done anything to make it stop.” I was surprised to feel tears rolling down my face as I reached the part I was most ashamed of.
Carey opened his mouth to say something, but I held a hand up. “No, let me finish. I’m almost done,” I promised. He subsided and watched me, his hands gripping mine almost painfully.
“Finally, they cleaned me up and made me put on some clothes, just plain white scrubs like most of them were wearing. We left the room and went through a maze of hallways until I didn’t know where we’d started. At last, we came to a room with bookshelves all over the place and leather chairs and stuff. I think it was a study or library.
“Anyway, Kaufman was sitting there at the desk, with Samuelson, the man Carson knew as Bergen. He welcomed me and told me to take a seat on the couch next to this man who was balled up, his face all bloody and his arm hanging funny. I hesitated, but one of the orderlies showed me a taser, so I sat down and waited for instructions. Kaufman told me that I was to download the man on the couch, that he knew something important but wouldn’t tell them what it was. I didn’t want to, but the orderly hit me with the taser. I downloaded the man, and I knew what they wanted. He was a doctor and had treated a Coalition agent who went crazy from a bad reaction to one of the experimental drugs they had him on. They were trying to develop some drug that would make soldiers feel less pain, something they were working on for the Defense department. Anyway, the doctor had kept a blood sample from the agent and sent it to be analyzed. He was trying to hide it from the Coalition, was going to expose them.
“Kaufman made me tell him who the doctor sent the blood sample to. Then he told me I did a good job, that I should be proud, and told the men to take me away and make me comfortable.”
I started sucking in the air, feeling like I had when Carson was dying, like I couldn’t catch my breath. Carey pulled me into his arms, ignoring my resistance, stroking my hair and murmuring quietly.
“And then the next day, Samuelson came to see me, and he said that thanks to me, the Coalition was able to find the blood sample and kill the lab tech who had analyzed it. And then they killed the doctor, and he was so pleased with me for neutralizing the threat to the Coalition.”
I screamed into Carey’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. “I killed those men, Carey! I killed them! It was my fault, my fault,” I begged, feeling something break inside me and give way, releasing the pain I had never really let go, never let anyone see. “And he told me no one would hurt me that day as a reward. And I was glad! God forgive me, I was glad.”
Carey just held me and let me weep, telling me it was ok, that it wasn’t my fault, that no one could blame me, I had no choice. Finally my tears quieted and I pulled away, wiping the sopping mess of my face with my sleeve.
When I could speak again, I told him what I had done to Carson. I told him he had to know the truth about me, and that if he thought I was a monster, I would understand. I knew there was something deeply damaged inside me, a poisoned wound that leaked out its toxins, and that I hurt other people when I was vulnerable or angry. I waited for him to tell me to get out of the car, to drive away and never speak to me again. I waited, hunched over like a dog expecting to be struck.
He was quiet for a while, just absently stroking my hair like I was a frightened animal. Finally, when I thought I could stand the silence no longer he let me go and got out of the car.
“Oh, god,” I breathed, my heart twisting into a hard, implacable knot. I gasped as my door was wrenched open and Carey’s outstretched hand brushed my shoulder. I took it with my good hand and he gently pulled me out of the car.
“Come here,” he said gently, pulling me up into his arms, cradling me against his chest, draping my good arm around his neck. “Hold tight.”
There was a rushing noise and I closed my eyes, my stomach lifting and dropping like I was cresting the peak of a roller coaster, my entire body going weightless, defying gravity for one heart-stopping second.
By the time I let out my breath, we were stopped. Cool air teased my cheeks, and the scent of pine was on the breeze. I opened my eyes.
“Oh,” I breathed, and tightened my grip on Carey. We were standing on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the surrounding mountains, the town stretched out beneath us like a perfect miniature, the old worn down buildings of downtown charming from this distance. Over the hills I could see the bright gleam of swiftly moving water, a creek or stream I hadn’t known was nearby. The wind whistled briskly around us, but Carey’s warmth filled me, and a strange peace untied the knot in my chest, winding its way through my veins and slowing my pulse to an easy, restful pace.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, gazing at the soft, rounded peaks covered with the fading brilliance of late autumn trees, making the mountains look as though they would pillow my landing if I fell. There was something infinitely comforting about the well-established land, as though it had long made its peace with the environment and simply abided, shielding the tiny town within its embrace against all destructive elements.
“Listen to me, Liz. Listen to my thoughts while I tell you this so you know I mean it. I love you. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. And whatever has been done to you just makes me want to protect you from anything or anyone that could harm you. You are not responsible for what you do when you are being tortured, no one is.”
He held my head in his hand, forcing me to meet his eyes. My control was completely obliterated and his thoughts poured into mine, sincerity humming within him like something tangible.
“Look around you. One of the things I’ve loved about living here is that these mountains protect us. A few years back there was a tornado headed this way and the town was totally unprepared. But the mountains blocked it. All we got was some gusty wind and rain. No one was injured, no property was damaged.”
Carey’s lips brushed my cheek and I closed my eyes in deep contentment. When I opened them again resolution blazed in his eyes and his thoughts. “I will always keep you safe, always. I’m your mountain. You’ll never be in danger again, I swear it. I love you, Elizabeth Anne Mason. No matter what.”
His lips bore down on mine, ignoring my tear-stained cheeks, and I let Carey kiss me, reveling for the first time in a week in the warm, faintly woodsy smell of him, the solid weight of his arms, the silk of his hair brushing my cheek. I surrounded myself in his thoughts, in the security that he loved me, that he didn’t blame me, and breathed a little easier.
“I love you too, Carey, “I whispered, and the last of my doubt disappeared with the wind.
Acknowledgements
No book, even a self-published one, is ever completed without a lot of help. Thank you first and foremost to my parents, who are endlessly supportive and never complain when I ask them to read yet another draft or obsess about the habits of people that don’t really exist outside my mind. They are wonderful editors and cheerleaders, and I am so lucky to be their daughter.
Thanks also to the rest of my family, who have always been supportive and encouraging, and have always believed in me, no matter how ridiculous my goal.
And thank you to the other self-published authors out there who paved the way and proved the industry is always changing, and the only thing that really matters is having a good story to tell.
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