by J. Bengtsson
Not trusting myself to speak, I answered Casey’s question with a nod.
Sensing my fragile state of being, she placed her hand on my chest and whispered, “Why? Why didn’t you just… just…”
“Tell someone?” I finished her question, shame licking up my heated skin. “I don’t know why.”
We stood silently, her expression twisted in pain…for me. She deserved more but the words were stuck in my throat. There was so much I needed to say to her but that required a courage I wasn’t sure I possessed.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Casey traced my face with her hands as a tear trailed down her cheek. “Why are you sorry? There’s no reason.”
“There is. So many reasons. I’m so ashamed of myself, Case. I did this. I kept them here all these years. All I had to do was just tell someone, anyone. They had lives. They had families… people who loved them… people who still don’t know what happened to them. I was the only one who could save them, and I did nothing. I was such a fucking coward.”
Casey stepped even closer, hands still touching my face. “No one knows what it was like being you… how much you hurt. You did the best you could, and I will never look at you as a coward. You didn’t put them here, Jake. This… isn’t… your… fault.”
I clutched Casey to me, my throat holding back something between a howl and a roar. Why me? The two words I swore I’d never say threatened to escape through clenched teeth. They were weak words, pathetic, really, and didn’t deserve to be allowed passage. Yet my whole life could be summed up by that simple question. Out of everybody he could have chosen, why had Ray picked me?
People speak of fate – the predetermined course of a person’s life – but I’d always refused to believe I’d been placed on this earth solely to be the plaything for a demented killer. And so I worked to change my destiny, pouring my soul into music and making a name for myself outside of Ray’s demented control. I reconnected with my family and made lifelong and lasting bonds. And, most importantly, I opened my heart up to a beautiful woman and allowed myself to love.
I did all those things to prove that fate didn’t own me. But now I realized what a fool I’d been. I could change my destiny all I wanted, but I could never outrun my fate. Almost my whole life had been lived in his clutches. Ray’s secrets were now my own, and his crimes had become my cross to bear.
As if it weren’t bad enough that he’d taken away my freedom and my innocence, Ray had also taken any chance I might have had at a peaceful life by forcing his memories on me with his boastful claims of death and destruction. I couldn’t even close my eyes at night without the fear that his victims would visit me in my sleep. Jack, Anton, Ren, Wilson, and Felix. I knew their names and had seen their faces, both dead and alive. I knew the towns they’d lived in before Ray destroyed them and who their families were and what they’d been like in life. But I also knew what their last words had been, how they died, and where they were buried. I knew all this because Ray had bound me to them for all eternity.
And when I’d come home, a tragic shell of myself, I’d tried to forget, blocking them from my memory for years until one day they found their way through the barriers of my mind and infiltrated my dreams. They weren’t ghosts at all, but living memories forced upon me by the man to whose fate I’d been forever linked.
Yes, I should have told someone; but like Casey said, no one knew what it was like being me. There was no handbook for me to study or any tried and true path I could follow. I had to find my way through hell on my own, and the mistakes I made had brought me here into the loving embrace of the woman who was willing to forgive my sins for no other reason than because she loved me and trusted that my heart was good.
“I promised you answers, Casey, and I’m ready to lay myself bare for you, but first, there’s something I have to do. I’m not going to keep his secrets anymore. This ends today.”
I tipped my head in the direction of a row of SUVs driving toward us. They’d come in through the front gate at the main house, where they’d had to stop first to deliver the warrant. That’s where I was supposed to meet them too, but my need to follow the map was too strong. This was the last time I’d ever come here. After today, I would burn those morbid directions and never feel guilt for them again.
In response to Casey’s questioning stare, I replied. “They’re with me.”
Casey stayed behind for the rest of my journey, although she did put up a good fight. I understood she wanted to be there for me, but this was something I needed to finish on my own. James, who’d arrived in one of the vehicles, remained at the barn with Casey. I didn’t need him because the closer I got to the end, the stronger I felt.
#6 Due South. A single boulder in the meadow with five marks carved in the base of the stone.
I led the agents to the place on the map where the bodies could be found, and then stepped back out of the way and watched them work. Although there was some doubt amongst the FBI agents that anything would be found, I knew better. They were there, waiting. Soon their purgatory would come to an end, and then they would be free.
It had taken me a long time to right the wrong, but now that I had, my hope was that there might just be a little bit of peace left over for me. My fate might have been tied to Ray’s, but he didn’t have any more rights to our story than I did. I could, and would, change the narrative. He didn’t get to write the ending. I did.
About an hour into the dig, sudden activity caught my attention. I knew it then; I could feel it. They’d been found. The tightness in my chest instantly eased as I breathed out a sigh of relief. My voice low, I spoke to them for the last time. “Rest in peace, brothers.”
They were finally going home.
Later that night, Casey and I were nestled under blankets by the fire and sipping hot chocolate. It was one of those rare nights in Los Angeles where the temperatures had dipped down into the 30s. And yes, while I was aware that such a temperature was considered downright balmy in some parts of the country, here in Southern California, we were a bunch of ridiculous cold weather wusses.
“My toes are frozen solid,” Casey complained, before proceeding to prove it to me by running her ice-cubed digits along my leg.
“Stop it,” I protested, flinching away from her. “You’re going to give me frostbite.”
“Speaking of frostbite, I’m worried about the orange trees out back. Do you think they’re going to freeze over and die?”
I didn’t have a lot of experience with Arctic temperatures, but it seemed logical to assume that tropical trees would be as pampered and fragile as we So Cal babies were. “Probably, yes.”
“Maybe you should go out right now and pick the ripe oranges so they don’t all die and go to waste.”
“See, here’s where I question your use of pronouns. It sounded like you wanted just me to go into the frigid outdoors… to pick oranges for you.”
Casey laughed as she pulled the blanket higher. “Okay. You’re right. Let the oranges die a glacial death. If it’s a choice between juicy, colorful fruit and your ballsack, I’ll pick the family jewels any day. No way is this baby going to be an only child.”
“No way do I want it to be.”
“Really?” she said, gazing up at me with stars in her eyes. “You want more?”
“Well, let’s get this one out of you first, but yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, you weren’t real thrilled about this little one at first,” Casey whispered as she pointed to her extended belly. “I don’t want it to hear.”
Reaching my hands out, I cradled her stomach before bending down and kissing my baby. “I’m ready now.”
Casey ran her fingers through my hair, warming me with her loving gaze and gentle touch. “Ready for what, babe?”
“For him. My son. I’m ready to be a father.”
24
Casey: Epilogue
Cold, bright, sterile. My hand was locked in Jake’s, and fear and excitement kept my body
in a constant state of shivers. In just a few minutes, this would all be over, and I would be holding my baby. I closed my eyes and made a silent plea for a healthy child and a safe surgery. It was a scheduled C-section, but that didn’t rule out complications. Apparently, the baby was too big to pass through my average-sized pelvis. Damn the McKallisters and their perfectly robust babies.
“I’m just about to cut the bag,” the doctor announced.
I glanced at Jake, who seemed a bit paler than normal.
“You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?” I asked.
“No, I’m fine,” he answered, making a show of standing up straighter. He was staying strong for me, but I could imagine that seeing my stomach opened up wouldn’t be the most pleasant sight for him.
“You’re a trouper,” I complimented him.
“Me?” He chuckled, nervously shifting from side to side. “I’m not the one with hands in my stomach.”
The doctor interrupted. “All right, Casey, you’re going to feel some tugging now as I pull the baby out.”
Looking to my husband for support, I found comfort in the intensity of his stare. Jake tightened the grip on my hand. He was my protector, and I felt safe with him by my side.
“We’re almost there,” he whispered.
I bit down on my lower lip and nodded. This was it. Every struggle we’d been through culminated here, in this room… with our baby. Jake broke eye contact with me the minute a hollow scream emanated from behind the sterile screen.
“Listen to that talker,” the doctor marveled. “Already screaming and not even born yet.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Jake said, his voice sounding full of both amusement and pride.
And then a real shriek, loud and insistent, echoed through the room.
Mesmerized by the birth of his child, Jake completely forgot about me, but I wasn’t the least bit offended. In fact, nothing made me happier than to see my husband fully vested in our baby. Once fearful he wouldn’t be a good father, Jake had bravely worked through his issues and, in the process, had come to embrace his new role as a daddy.
I studied his face for reaction. It was my only guide to what was happening on the sterile side of my body, and when I saw the smile light up his face, all my worries fell away.
“He’s here,” Jake said with nothing but awe in those simple words. “And he’s perfect.”
Tears of joy flooded my eyes as I waited for a glimpse of my new little man. Squeezing Jake’s hand tighter, I felt the force of our connection. Every shared milestone became a memory we could look back on with love and pride – and this, the birth of our son, was a triumph that would last us a lifetime.
A nurse carried the baby to me, rubbing his cheek up against mine. With his red, swollen eyes, splotchy skin, and screams so loud they ricocheted off the walls, our baby boy was pissed off and he wanted the world to know. I could only assume his current mood was the result of being kicked out of his nice, warm apartment only to be manhandled by the landlord’s hired help.
“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re all right,” I soothed. He instantly reacted to the sound of my voice.
“He knows you,” Jake said, marveling at the connection we’d already made. But I wasn’t surprised at all. This wasn’t our first meeting; not really. I’d been talking to him non-stop since the day I found out I was pregnant. And mine wasn’t the only voice he’d been hearing.
“Sing the song for him,” I urged. “He loves it.”
And so Jake softly crooned the chorus of a ballad he’d written specifically for his son – a song that had instantly pacified the rising soccer star who’d lived and kicked in my belly for the last nine months. And just as he’d done countless times before, our baby listened. The screaming subsided, and both Jake and I gazed at his gorgeous face. He was a miracle created from our love, and the reason for the joy that filled our hearts on this momentous day.
“Okay, mom and dad, I’ll bring him back soon. We just need to warm the little guy up.” The nurse smiled affectionately, looking between us, before whisking our son away.
“Casey, you’ve got a little more work to do,” the doctor said. “Jake will follow the baby to the warmer while I deliver the placenta.”
“Okay.” I nodded, feeling a sudden chill race over my skin.
Jake bent down and brushed his lips across my forehead. “I’ll be right over there.” He seemed just as hesitant to let go of my hand as I was with his.
“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. Keep an eye on our baby.”
“You know I will.”
And then Jake was gone. And the baby was gone. My only connection to either of them were the occasional updates Jake called out to me. I lay there for what seemed a very long time, alone on the cold table, dreaming of the moment I would be rejoined with the other half of my beating heart. I closed my eyes and waited.
“Casey,” the doctor’s voice boomed loud as he zapped me from my trance. “Everything went fine. We’re going to transfer you to recovery, and then we’ll get you all set up in a comfortable room. There’s someone who wants to see you.”
My droopy eyes snapped to attention when the nurse returned with Jake and our baby. Suddenly the sterile room erupted with color, and my body warmed as if it were basking in the sun’s rays. The moment he was placed in my arms and those liquid blue eyes gazed upon me, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. He was mine. Ours. I wondered if my heart was big enough to hold all this new emotion.
“He’s a big boy,” she announced. “Eight pounds, eleven ounces, and twenty-two inches long.”
I flicked my eyes at Jake, rolling them dramatically. He grinned. It was our running joke, and I couldn’t help but point out his culpability in the size issue.
But I was only willing to spare a second away from the beauty that was in my arms. “Well hello there, handsome. I’m your mom. I’ve been waiting a long time to finally meet you in person.”
Jake cradled the back of the baby’s neck and bent down to kiss his chubby little cheek. “Welcome to the world, little guy. It gets better, I promise.”
I gazed adoringly at my loving husband and treasured son, feeling nothing but grateful for the life I’d been graced with. It wasn’t that long ago my spirit had been broken in half by the loss of Miles, my beloved brother. At the time, I couldn’t even imagine a moment as beautiful as this one would be waiting for me down the road. That was the truly wonderful part about life – it just kept moving along, bringing with it new and unexpected surprises for those willing to open their hearts and minds to love. I kissed the top of the baby’s head and then reached my hand up to run it along Jake’s stubbled jaw.
Bursting with happiness, I whispered to my men, “It doesn’t get any better than this.”
25
Jake: Epilogue
My heart pumping wildly, I pushed through the double doors and into the sitting area where both my family and Casey’s were awaiting the news. Although everyone had been aware of the gender months before his birth, I still felt the need to announce it to our loved ones.
“It’s a boy! Casey and baby are doing great.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Linda said, blowing out a long, relieved breath. She and my mother exchanged a quick hug.
“How are you holding up?” my father asked, feigning concern.
“I was a little queasy, I’m not going to lie,” I answered, a smile spreading across my face. “But I stayed upright, so you lose.”
“Yes!” Kyle jumped from his chair. “Pay up, old man.”
“Nope,” my father shook his head, unwilling to accept defeat. “First I want confirmation from Casey.”
“The lack of blood speaks for itself,” Kyle protested. “You’re just stalling.”
Yep, they’d bet on whether I’d pass out in the operating room, and my own father had been hoping for a full-on smelling salts revival.
“Scott, you need help,” my mother said, waving him off before asking about the baby.
I went on to share his impressive measurements, his fiery disposition, and just his overall perfection.
Sydney flung her arms around my waist. “When can I see the baby?”
“As soon as they move Casey into her room and she’s feeling up to visitors, I’ll come get you.”
Holding the baby in my arms, I rocked him back and forth, singing softly in his ear. Casey was on her way over from recovery and the first thing I wanted her to see when she came through the door was me being the father she always knew I could be. From the very start of our relationship, Casey’s faith in me had been absolute and unwavering, and that, in turn, had given me the strength to face my demons and free the guilt that had slowly been chipping away at my battered soul. Casey had given me the one thing money could never buy: hope.
Now I could see the path ahead, and it was a beautiful one, filled with love and laughter and babies. There was a time where I wouldn’t have dared dream of such a life. I couldn’t imagine there would ever be a white picket fence or a beautiful wife or a team of kids running around. Not for me. But I’d been wrong. Through all the trials I’d faced in life, through all the spilled blood, and through all the hopeless tears, all it had taken to save me was the love of a patient woman.
The baby jerked in my arms as the peaceful little face I’d been gazing upon shifted without warning. Suddenly, my son was seized by a nightmare of his own making. I watched in fascination as his lips pouted and his forehead wrinkled in consternation. What perils could he possibly have faced in his very short existence? I could see maybe if he’d had a rough passage through the birth canal, or had a cord wrapped around his neck; but as it was, he’d had a fairly cushy entrance into the world.