And he had to be nearby.
The cottage’s front door creaked open, and my head snapped to the left. I stared at the bedroom doorway so hard, willing Jason to appear in the rectangular opening. My heart was racing so fast that it kept tripping over itself. “Jason!” I scooted to the edge of the bed, and when a shadowed figure stepped into the doorway, I froze, my heart drooping. It definitely wasn’t Jason.
“D?” Zoe stepped into the room, her cheeks flushed and her blue-green eyes bright. And I could sense her mind. I could sense all of the minds around me. I wasn’t being nulled.
I’d imagined it. Or I’d fallen asleep for a few minutes, and it had been a dream. Or it had been a hallucination or anything but reality, so it really didn’t matter, other than the fact that it hadn’t been real. Jason hadn’t returned. The harsh reality stared at me, defiant and cruel and absolutely unwavering.
Jason wasn’t going to return.
I couldn’t help it; I burst into sudden, uncontrollable tears. Something buried deep inside me bent, strained, trembled, and, with so very, very much resistance, snapped.
He was gone. Gone.
He was gone, and it was time for me to discover what had happened that day that had been so awful my mind had repressed it. It was time for me to let Zoe mine my memories, to let her help me remember everything.
“Oh, D…” Zoe sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close. “What is it? What happened?”
I shook my head against her shoulder, my sobs too violent to allow for coherent speech yet. But I knew that Zoe could sense the storm of emotions raging within me, knew that she could feel them almost as intensely as if they were her own. And I knew that my memory of the last couple minutes—of my hope and elation turning to miserable disappointment—was likely filtering through her mind in fast-forward at this exact moment.
“Oh, D,” she repeated, squeezing me tightly. “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll try to help you remember. Just say the word…”
This time, I didn’t refuse. I nodded against her shoulder. “Now,” I managed to say. “I’m ready now…or as ready as I’ll ever be.”
There was a long stretch of silence, filled only by the sounds of my gentling sobs, Zoe’s steady breaths, and the soft shush of her fingers combing through my wild curls. “After you finish your shake,” she finally said.
“Zo…”
“D…”
“But—”
She pulled back, pushing me away by the shoulders, and met my eyes. Her expression couldn’t have been clearer. Or more obstinate.
“I—” I searched her aquamarine eyes, bathing in their cool warmth and familiarity, then took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.” I clenched my jaw, took another deep breath, and reached for the unappetizing shake. “Let’s do this.”
~~~~~
I was sitting in one of the chairs surrounding the kitchen table, counting the cups and dishes stacked on the exposed shelves on the far wall. It was the third day in a row that we’d tried to unlock whatever it was that Zoe was certain I was repressing—that I was moderately sure I was repressing—with zero success.
“I’m sorry, D.” Zoe slouched back in the kitchen chair, her knees on either side of mine, and let out a heavy sigh. A fire crackled in the hearth, just a handful of yards away. “I just—I can sense that something’s off, or missing, but I can’t figure out what—or how or why or anything.” She shrugged weakly.
I worried my bottom lip, disappointment a lump twisting around in my stomach. I tasted sour chocolate from my latest shake, thick on the back of my tongue.
Zoe exhaled heavily, exasperation pinching her features. “It doesn’t make any sense. I mean, you’ve got to be repressing something. With what we have—and haven’t—found out there, it only makes sense.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she rubbed her temples. “This memory-spelunking thing is far from an exact science, you know?” Her shoulders, which had slowly worked their way higher while she spoke, gave way under the heavy defeat lacing her voice.
My chest rose and fell as air whooshed in and out of my lungs. I rested my head back against the top rail of the chair and sighed. “I honestly can’t tell the difference between what does and doesn’t make sense anymore.” Out of nowhere, my mouth opened and I gave in to a jaw-cracking yawn.
“Sleep—or drift or whatever it is you do for rest,” Zoe said. “Doctor’s apprentice’s orders.”
I laughed, groaning as I stood, and rested my hand on her arm. “I love you, Zo.”
Smiling, she crossed her arms. “Love you too, D.”
~~~~~
The man came into view between the trees, the woman not far behind him. He was tall and slender, and when he caught sight of us, he raised his hands up defensively. “Whoa, whoa, friends…no need for guns. We’re simply lost and, well, you see, we were looking for mushrooms to trade in town, and—”
I recognized him. “You’re a trader. I’ve seen you before. You traded my friend and me a bottle of antidepressants for—”
Flicker.
A man and a woman stand directly in front of me.
Flicker.
“Tincture of white willow bark.” The trader grinned. “Yes, yes, I remember. Quite effective, that tincture. I’ve had very happy customers. You’ll have to give me the recipe. How did the Sertraline work on the poor dear?”
“That’s close enough,” Jason said, his voice full of command.
Flicker.
I’m holding a gun to my head. I’m terrified that I’ll pull the trigger.
Flicker.
My gun is holstered once again. “It’s fine, Jason.” I looked at the trader. “Unfortunately, those drugs didn’t seem to make any difference. On to the next, I guess.”
“Hmmm…well, I have a few others you could try. I’ll take whatever’s left of the Sertraline back.” The trader reached behind himself. “Exchange it for the same amount of—”
In the blink of an eye, a small, black pistol was in his hand, and it was pointed directly at me. I took several steps backward, stunned.
Flicker.
The woman is drawing the blade of a pocketknife along the back of her forearm. She smears the blood on my hands, on the front of my jacket, on my face.
Flicker.
Jason leapt in front of me just as the earsplitting crack of a gun firing exploded among the trees. Seconds later, he was down on one knee and bleeding.
I dropped to my knees before him, holding onto him to help keep him upright.
Flicker.
I’m suddenly back on my feet, and Jason is standing in front of me. “You need to remember!”
Flicker.
A gun is pressed to my head. I’m holding it.
Flicker.
“Remember!” Jason screams.
14
ZOE
DECEMBER 11, 1AE
The Farm, California
I thought I’d fallen asleep in the sweltering warmth of Jake’s arms, both of us cozy beneath the soft goose-down comforter on our bed, but the space beside me was cold. Cooper wasn’t in his bed on the floor. I was alone. It was Jake’s first night home in days, and he wasn’t even sleeping.
I peered around the moonlit room and wondered how long I’d been asleep. A few minutes? Hours? Regardless of how long my mind had been resting, it was clear that Jake’s wasn’t, and I knew exactly where I’d find him. Something was strange about Jason’s death, and Jake couldn’t let it go, which meant he was downstairs, planning the next search.
Sitting up, I threw the blankets back. The cool air pricked my exposed arms and toes until I found my slippers and donned my purple fleece robe. And, with a groan, I opened the bedroom door and headed down the landing to the staircase. My head was pounding from lack of sleep and drawn-out days, and although I knew I needed rest, I knew Jake needed it more.
With the exception of hushed voices coming from Chris and Harper’s room—another overdue reunion in the house—and the wood floors creaking beneath my
sluggish footsteps, the house was quiet.
I descended the stairs and wasn’t surprised when I saw the glow of the dining room lanterns. Jake stood in front of the wall of maps he, Chris, Sanchez, and my dad had been consulting throughout their tireless pursuits to find Jason, Cooper sprawled out on the rug beside him. Although my heart ached at the reminder that my brother’s body had seemed to vanish, I tried to ignore it.
“How long have you been up?” I asked, stirring Jake from his fixed, pensive stare.
He glanced my way, looking surprised to see me, then turned his attention back to the wall of aerial depictions—the mountaintops, highways, lakes, and coastlines that spanned a hundred-mile radius around us. “A while,” he muttered.
I moved to stand beside him. The maps were barely readable anymore, marred with so many notes and lines and Xs I wasn’t really sure what I was even looking at. “You need sleep,” I said, my gaze shifting slowly to him, hoping more than assuming he would concede and return to bed with me.
He ran his hand over his head, then his face, and let out a frustrated breath.
“Jake…” I whispered. “Let’s—”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” he bit out, his fist meeting the table as he spun around.
I jumped.
“We’ve found nothing, not in Sonoma or Napa or Marin…” Jake shook his head, his voice nearly boiling over with an anger that was different from anything I’d ever felt in him before. “If he’s dead, why haven’t we found him by now?” The table creaked as he pushed away from it. “We’ve combed this valley dozens of times. People, dead or alive, don’t just vanish.” Jake glared at the maps again.
I agreed. Wholeheartedly. But I also knew the burning emptiness in my chest—the detachment that was beginning to fester inside Dani and my dad, even me—would ruin us all if we let it. Though I hated to say the words, they seemed to jump from my lips, needing to be said regardless of how painful they were. “Maybe it’s time you took a break, Jake. I know none of this makes any sense, but maybe it’s time we considered what needs to be done in Jason’s absence.”
One breath passed. Two. And on my third exhale, Jake turned to me, staring, like he couldn’t fathom my meaning.
“I can’t. Not when someone took—”
“His body?” I shrugged, my head shaking as I tried to grab hold of my waning patience. “I know, but who? The woman? Her friends? Crazies?” I lowered my voice, hating the thought of anyone with my brother’s body, and took a placating step toward him. “I want to find him, too, but…” I scanned the stacks of documents that needed to be transcribed, thought about the trips to New Bodega that needed to be made to barter for food and supplies, about the chores around the farm that needed upkeep and decisions that needed to be made—I thought about all the things that had been neglected in the havoc since Jason’s death.
I pointed to the kitchen, keeping my voice calm and steady as I tried to explain. “There are fruits and vegetables that need to be canned. There are projects that need to be finished so we have a better crop this year. People depend on us, Jake. We can’t neglect everything we’ve worked for, let it all fall by the wayside. Jason wouldn’t want that.”
“And if he’s still out there somewhere and we just give up?”
“Even if he is out there somewhere, there needs to be some measure of structure here if we’re going to keep this place going, if we’re going to stay sane.” All I could think about was trying to keep Dani busy—trying to keep myself busy—trying to get her into a routine so she would think about something else, something besides the child she was having without Jason.
Jake stared at me, impassive, like he wasn’t listening to a single word.
“Jesus, at some point we have to accept the fact that Jason’s gone, no matter how painful, and even if it doesn’t make any sense,” I said, more urgently this time. “Unless he walks through that door, we might never find him. We have no clues. What are you going to do, keep looking forever? Leave the rest of us behind? Leave me? Because I can’t keep doing this.” It didn’t matter the hour and that people were sleeping. I was desperate to make him understand what I’d been trying to since Dani came running home, covered in blood. I was exhausted from hoping and holding on to something that might never come to pass.
“I don’t want him to be gone,” I said, my voice breaking. “I want to be able to say goodbye, to bury my brother’s body, and not have to see the emptiness in my dad all over again, every day for the rest of his life.” I wiped the dampness from my eyes. I couldn’t go on like this. I couldn’t cope if Jake was going to keep searching, keep offering me hope, but delivering only disappointment. “When will it be enough for you?”
“Not until it makes sense,” he ground out, but then he let out a heavy, exhausted breath, like he knew that day would never come.
Taking a step toward him, I made no effort to control the tremble of my chin. I saw the plans Jake still had, the possible hiding places he wanted to check, the towns unexplored, all of it thrashing around in his mind.
“Please, take a break. Rest. You can’t search the entire state, and you can’t possibly scour every single town, every forest and county on horseback and expect to be here, too.”
Jake sat in the chair at the head of the table, bracing his elbows on the dark wood surface. He held his head in his hands like he was so exhausted his neck needed the extra support.
“My dad’s barely even here, you’ve both been gone for days. Even when he is here, he never comes in the house anymore, unless it’s to plan. Dani’s barely eating, and she’s got a baby to think about now. She can’t live like this. We need you both here, with us.”
Jake peered up at me, a look so pointed it stopped any train of thought I had. Dark circles shadowed eyes that used to be soft and affectionate, but were now hardened. “I’m trying to bring her closure, to bring everyone closure,” he growled. His face was an expressionless mask like my brother’s had so often been, save for his eyes boring into me. It was like Jason was haunting me as I stood there, forced to choose between taking care of my best friend and searching for my brother’s body for God only knew how much longer.
I knew Jason would want me to choose Dani.
I pulled the chair to Jake’s right out from the table and sat down. I reached for his hand, big and strong in mine as I held it on the tabletop and rested my forehead against it.
“I know you’re trying,” I whispered, and my eyes squeezed shut. Turning so my cheek rested against the back of his hand, I stared up at him. “This can’t be our lives. Jason wouldn’t want this to ruin all that we’ve worked for.”
Jake’s eyes finally softened. “And if there’s something out there that we’ve missed?” he prompted. His eyes shimmered, like he couldn’t simply let go but knew that at some point, he would have to.
I took a deep breath and kissed Jake’s hand, wiping the silent tears from my cheeks. “And if there’s not?” I stood and gazed out the only window unobscured by maps and lists. There was little moonlight now, and I could hear the wind picking up outside. “What if it’s not supposed to, if it never makes sense?”
He looked at me, and I didn’t need to read his mind to know that he couldn’t let it rest, not after everything he’d seen—what he’d lived through. He needed answers, which is what frightened me most.
Jake slowly stood from his chair, his flannel pajama pants and thermal shirt making my heart ache even more. I’d stared at his perfectly folded nightclothes on his side table for a handful of nights, wishing he were home to scold me for leaving my clothes strewn around the room or to wake me up at midnight with a kiss on my nose and caress of my cheek. And now he was home, but it felt like there were still miles, valleys, and counties between us.
Jake scratched the side of his bearded face before he reached for my hand. Though I knew he wasn’t going to stop searching, not yet, he laced his fingers with mine. “Let’s go back to bed,” he said.
Relieved, I nodded
, knowing I’d at least won this small battle. I followed him up the stairs and into our bedroom, Cooper padding up behind us. I was so tired, so drained my body threatened to give out on me with every step. Once inside our room, Jake closed the door quietly behind me. We were in darkness, and I wanted it to swallow me away.
I felt Jake’s hands at my waist, moving around to untie my robe for me. Like his mere presence could chase away both the tension and what was left of my strength, I nearly crumbled as his arms wrapped around me and peeled off my robe. After he draped it over the foot of the bed, he pulled the covers back enough for me to crawl under.
I peered up at him, seeing only the shadowed contours of his face. Slowly, I climbed into bed. Jake tucked the comforter tight around me before walking to his side of the bed. He crawled in beside me, the mattress protesting beneath his weight more than it had mine.
And as he exhaled, I felt the weight of his mind not lift, but shift as he pushed his troublesome thoughts and fears, his frustration and anger away, and pulled me into him. His chest rose and fell against my back, and his arms enveloped me like he would never let me go. He was comforting me and apologizing, promising that everything would be okay, even though it was something both of us knew wasn’t true.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, shutting my eyes as I felt his heat and strength soaking into my body, into my bones.
He kissed the back of my neck. “For what?” he asked softly.
“For making this more difficult on you. You’ve done so much, tried so hard…I just don’t want to lose you to this, chasing something you may never find.”
Jake squeezed his arms around me more tightly and inhaled deeply before I felt his warm breath caress the back of my neck and ear. “I’m just not ready to give up yet,” he admitted.
It was quiet for a few breaths until, finally, I nodded because it was all I could do. Tears dampened my pillow, and I moved to wipe them from my face, but the rough pad of Jake’s thumb brushed against my cheek before I could.
“You won’t lose me to this,” he promised.
The Ending Series: The Complete Series Page 143