The commune. It had been the place we’d gone for directions, and it had been our last contact with a large source of people – a large enough source that it would definitely be the most likely place in which to find the medicine I had needed.
But he had been there: the man I most hated out of everyone who had ever existed. She wouldn’t go there; she would know to stay away from him.
Unless she thought I was dying, and that going there was the only way to save my life.
I jumped to my feet, ignoring the woozy feeling in my head and grabbing her backpack; I placed it around my shoulders, then started sprinting out of the grove.
The sprinting didn’t last. My head started spinning and I collapsed to my knees just outside the trees.
But Candace might need me. She might no longer be at the commune, but I was certain she’d at least been there, and that was a start. I needed to find her. I could not rest. Who knew what sort of situation she was in?
Sleep snagged me by the chest and pulled me in.
~ * ~
When I came to again, the sun blazed over my head. It was so hot for March; I could tell summer would come quickly in southern California. What would it be like if I ever convinced Candace to come to Mexico with me?
I had to find her.
I was on my feet again, moving forward cautiously, not wanting to pass out like I had before. Several minutes later, I remembered to take my medicine.
I felt better this time; my feet didn’t feel as heavy, and my shoulder stung less. I moved faster.
Judging by the place the sun held in the sky, though, I wouldn’t make it to the commune by nightfall – not at this pace. And I couldn’t risk slowing myself down even further by moving faster. And no one would be willing to help me once I did reach the commune if I arrived when everyone was asleep. I’d have to wait to talk to anyone until morning.
A shiver traveled through me at the thought of talking to anyone there, and I especially dreaded the chance of seeing him again. But I had few options; the severity of Candace’s absence weighed like a cloak on my back, getting heavier with every passing moment.
Something was definitely wrong, and tomorrow morning might be too late to do anything about it. I desperately wanted to find her, desperately wanted to touch every part of her and make sure she was completely uninjured. But I myself was injured, and I was only human.
I walked all day, focusing on the idea of the commune – it was my only lead, and I didn’t even know whether going there would help me find her, but what else could I do? I stopped just off the exit that night and fell asleep in the gutter, horribly missing the feel of my arms wrapped around her.
Morning came slower than I had hoped, but it did come. I headed straight for the house, walking directly to the guards without taking my gun out – I needed to get through them as quickly as possible.
“You again?” one murmured, raising his eyebrows; I barely recognized him from the last time I’d been here. The other one was new. “You look like hell.”
“I’m looking for someone – the girl I was with last time I was here. Have you seen her?”
The man exchanged a look with his mate, then shook his head. “Can’t say that I have,” he said. His eyes flickered.
“You’re lying,” I said, my tone even. I wanted to grab him by the throat and choke the truth out of him, but I knew I didn’t have the strength to win against both of them right now.
He shrugged. “Can’t say that I’m not, but I can’t answer your questions.”
“Can you at least let me in?”
He immediately stepped away from the door. “Have at it.”
I walked over the threshold, the fear that my eyes would land on him surging through my every thought. I couldn’t worry about that, though; she had been here, and I just needed to find someone who would tell me what had happened while she’d been here.
I tapped a scrawny man on the shoulder, and he turned to face me. “Has there been a girl here? About eighteen? Asking for medicine?”
His eyes were wide as he quickly shook his head. “N-no,” he replied.
“What about you?” I asked an older woman who stood a few feet away, watching us. “Have you seen anyone by that description?”
She quietly shook her head, not saying a word; her eyes seemed sad.
I searched the entire house for anyone who knew Candace, anyone who would tell me something about her; everyone said they’d never seen her.
But someone had to have been lying. She had definitely been here.
I didn’t come across him anywhere.
I stood in the entryway, staring up at the ceiling, hoping that it would somehow speak and give me some answers.
“I’ve seen her,” a quiet, lilting voice said from behind me.
I turned, my eyes landing on a young woman, her belly just beginning to swell.
“Have you?” I said. “Why has no one else?”
“There’s a man who lives here; he somehow manages to procure things people need, and gives them to us at no cost. People feel a debt toward him, I think.”
“What man?”
“Thin. Sunken eyes. Black hair.”
Him.
“The girl you’re asking about came here looking for medicine; no one would trade with her, because he had requested that they refuse, even if they had the medicine she was seeking. Then, as she was about to leave, he came forward and offered to trade with her.”
“What did he trade?” I asked, almost wishing she wouldn’t answer.
“Her pain,” she murmured, “in exchange for the medicine. Are you Gideon?”
I nodded, closing my eyes. Why her pain? To hurt me? Or simply because he couldn’t bear to see me happy with someone else?
“Do you know where they went?”
“He was going to take her to another house after they’d left the medicine with you. He said they’d come back here, but to another house, so I assume wherever they are now is close by.”
Close. I clung to those words, that promise.
“How long ago was that?” I asked.
“Almost two days now.”
Two days. That entire time Candace had been with him, and his goal was her pain. What state would she be in when I found her?
I nodded once. “Thank you, “ I said before turning around and heading for the door.
Then something occurred to me, and I stopped. I pulled Candace’s backpack towards me and rummage in it till I found what I was looking for.
“Here,” I said, handing the bottle to the woman. “She has a special attachment to these, but I think she’ll be okay with me giving them to you.” Candace was a different person now than who she had been when she’d stolen the prenatal pills off a dead woman’s body. Back then, she had been mad and vengeful. Now, she was loving. Forgiving. She had forgiven me.
I suddenly felt sure that I hadn’t imagined her saying those words.
The woman blinked at the pill bottle. “I wasn’t going to keep it – the baby; it won’t matter if it gets the proper nutrition.”
“Take them,” I insisted. “You might reconsider that decision; the best blessing in the world is family.”
“In this world, though? Family is a curse, and it wasn’t my choice to risk pregnancy.” She looked sad as she stared down at the bottle.
“In any world, I think. If you keep the baby, he or she might become your greatest weakness. But I think you’ll find your greatest strength in his or her eyes.”
She finally looked up at me, confusion clouding her face. “Thank you,” she murmured.
I nodded, then left the house, ignoring the men as I went.
I stood just outside the gate, looking along the block, recognizing every house that stood there, and realizing just how many houses occupied this exit. How would I ever find her in a maze such as this?
I closed my eyes, focusing, willing my connection with her, my love for her, to pull me in the right direction.
But nothin
g did. No spiritual energy or magical feeling tugged me towards a certain house, or even encouraged me to go right instead of left. Nothing was going to help me find her now. I was just human.
That wasn’t going to stop me from trying my hardest to find her on my own, though. Pain – if that was his objective with her, then he would draw it out. He had never caused me anything but emotional pain, but I understood well enough the driving force behind someone wanting to cause someone else pain. Candace had wanted it of me, and I would bet anything that, at the time, she would have loved to draw out my suffering for as long as possible.
I was sure he would do the same. I had time to search before he took her life, even if it meant she experienced more pain for it. But where could I possibly start from within this maze of houses?
One at a time, I decided, looking along the line and choosing the house that came after the commune. That’s all I could do: search one at a time.
~ * ~
House by house, I searched. I looked through every room of every house, hoping for even a hint that she had once been there. Even if she wasn’t there anymore, a hint was better than nothing.
For each house I entered, I would walk through the door and pause, listening for any sign of life. A few times, there were sounds, and I followed them to reveal some loner cocooned in blankets, or a boney dog clawing at the wall. Other times, there was silence.
For each room I looked into, I hoped to lay eyes on her; this never happened.
All the while, I dreaded the moment I would come into contact with him. After so many years, my worst fear had grown to a point that I hadn’t foreseen. I would do it, for her, but I would have given anything to know I could get her back without facing him.
After ten houses, I came and rested on the curb, setting my head in my arms. I’d been working on the first circle of houses in the neighborhood, and was now past the backyard of the first house where the commune was.
I had the worst headache, even though the medicine was doing its job. I didn’t want to rest – the longer I left Candace with him, the more hurt she’d be when I got there. Each moment I was away from her, she was sure to be breaking all the worse. I needed to get to her.
But would I be able to help her if I’d worn myself down beforehand? I already knew I was stronger than him, but would that be enough, injured as I was? What sort of fight would he put up?
I sat there, resting, dreading what my resting might mean for her. That’s when a muffled sound came from behind me.
Pain. That was the only word for what I was hearing. I had never heard Candace shout out in pain, but that wasn’t going to keep me from investigating that sound. It had to be her.
How did I know? Maybe it was that connection I’d hopelessly been feeling around for a few hours ago, the connection that would lead me to her. Maybe I just recognized the character of her voice better than I’d realized.
Whatever it was that made me believe that cry of pain was her, it brought me through the backyard of the house I was sitting in; I jumped a fence and sprinted to the back door of the house behind it, all the while listening for another sign that someone was in agony.
No sound came.
I raised my gun and shot through the glass of the back door; it shattered into too many pieces to count, and I stepped over the wood paneling. I listened, wondering which direction to take. The house was dark, too dark for shadows, and several hallways branched off from where I was.
Soft footsteps thudded from above my head, and I started searching for stairs.
My eyes adjusted to the light in time to see them at the front of the house, a grand banister beckoning me upward. I gripped it and surged forward, climbing as fast as feasible, considering how few stairs I’d climbed since getting shot in September.
I turned left, knowing the footsteps had come from that direction. I studied the hallway, trying to think which door would lead to the room above the kitchen.
That one.
I turned right and tried the handle. Locked. I raised my gun again and blasted the lock; the door swung open.
Four walls. The doorway I stood in. A closed closet door.
And them.
Chapter 21 – Gideon
Candace, flopped against the ground like a ragdoll, from what must have previously been a sitting position. Her limp hair was splayed across her face, hiding her eyes, but it was obvious that she was unconscious – the scream must have been the last before she had become so. Her neck pulsed, showing clearly how alive she still was, even though finger-shaped bruises encased the pulse. Her wrists and ankles were tied and, most gruesome of all, blotches of blood speckled the fabric of her clothing. Holes, obviously produced by a stabbing knife, rimmed with deep red, lined her pants and shirtsleeves up and down. Her cheeks from under her hair looked purple and gray, discolored from slapping. Careful slices lined her chest and torso, blood staining the cut fabric there, too. Her abuser had obviously been careful to only give wounds that wouldn’t kill her; he hadn’t been ready for that yet.
Now, though, her head rested in his lap, and he held a gun to her head.
“Hello, Gideon,” he said pleasantly. “It’s so nice to see you again.” There was a warmth there that didn’t fit the scene.
I didn’t break my composure, even though the pain of seeing Candace like that seared a hot iron right through my chest.
“I can’t say likewise, I’m afraid,” I said, taking a step forward, “considering the predicament of my sweetheart there.” I nodded at Candace in his lap, but immediately refocused my eyes on him, giving him my full attention. I walked closer, noting the way his grip tensed on the trigger of his gun. But, rather than go to him, I sat down in front of him, crossing my legs and meeting his eyes.
The dread about this meeting had vanished. In its place was one desire: get Candace out alive.
“What’s your price?” I asked.
“We leave her here; you and I walk out together. When she wakes, we’ll be gone. She’s not hurt enough to be unable to manage by herself.”
“You want me to leave her for you.”
“To stay with me.” Those cold blue eyes melted, leaving in their place longing and desperation, loneliness and hope.
“You realize I’ve never felt that way about you,” I clarified.
The blue froze again. “That’s my price.”
I studied Candace for a long while, wishing I could look into her eyes.
“How are you going to keep me from running away from you again?” I asked, looking back at him.
“I’m not.” The blue melted again.
He wanted to trust me. He wanted to believe that I wouldn’t leave him, even though I had before. Despite the fact that he had caused me so much inner pain when I was growing up, he still had hope that I could somehow love him.
This was why I hadn’t been able to kill him ten years before. Even with everything he’d put me through, he’d protected me. And I knew him. I knew there was something in his heart that was kind, despite the way he chose to use people.
He was human.
I had to save Candace.
“Okay,” I finally said. “I’ll go with you.”
His stern face crumpled into relief; he set the gun aside and gently lifted Candace’s head from his lap, setting her to the side. He brought out a knife, cutting her bonds, before laying that aside as well. He dug in his backpack and brought out a blanket, laying it out over her body. Then, he gathered his possessions.
Had this always been his plan? Had he somehow foreseen that I’d find Candace? Possibly foreseen that Candace would need medicine for me? Even the man who’d shot me had come out of nowhere. Could he have planned everything out that far, simply in the hopes that I’d come with him? That I’d stay with him?
Was that possible?
He stood, and I followed suit. Then he took my unarmed hand, tugging me toward the door.
“Come on,” he said, a corner of his mouth uplifted. “We have a lot of catch
ing up to do.”
“Yes,” I said. “We do.” I raised my gun and fired.
There wasn’t time for his face to register surprise; blood gushed from his skull, and he dropped to the ground.
Distasteful as it was, I untangled his bag from his body and opened it, spilling the contents on the ground. He didn’t have any more medication, but there was a bottle of rubbing alcohol, completely unopened.
I turned back to Candace, lifting the blanket off her and screwing the cap off the bottle. I tore a piece of my shirt away, pouring the alcohol on the fabric and beginning to blot at her skin.
Anywhere there was blood, I rubbed the alcohol into the wound. After everything we’d been through, I wouldn’t risk her getting an infection like I had.
My hand snaked up and down inside her clothing, all the while being careful not to do anything that might seem intimate, even though it definitely would not have felt that way in this situation.
Finally satisfied, I patted her hair down, then swept her off the floor, into my arms, even as my shoulder protested. I carefully swung her onto my back, just as I had carried that doe so many months before. Then, I walked past his body, and left the room.
I hadn’t ever forgiven him, even though I’d previously let him live. Somehow I’d never managed to let it go, especially considering my fear that he’d somehow creep back into my life. I wouldn’t even have killed him now, save for one thing.
Candace. I wouldn’t let him ever have a chance to hurt her again.
Maybe I’d be able to forgive him one day. It would definitely help, knowing that I’d never come across him again. He was finally gone, and that would give me the power I needed to let go.
I still didn’t know how Candace had found the power to forgive me, after what I’d taken from her. Hadn’t that been similar to what he had done to me?
It all came down to love. Somehow, she fell in love with me. I had known that’s all it would take – love – I just hadn’t realized her loving me was truly possible.
Love was what had finally given me the strength to kill him. My love for her would make me do anything necessary to keep it – even face a demon I wanted to forget.
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