The young student we’d spoken with at the motel strode up to us in the dark, and I stepped forward eagerly.
“What do we need to do?”
He glanced at me, and then at the locked door. “I have a key…so, nothing.”
“Oh,” I said, deflated. “I thought we had to break in.”
“Well, this is breaking in. We’re not supposed to be here, remember? And I’m just an assistant. I’m not supposed to be letting in strangers.”
I nodded as we mounted the steps. “What’s your name, anyway, man? I didn’t catch it at the motel.”
“I’m Anderson,” he answered. “And you’re Clay Forbes.”
He slid his gaze to Beau.
“I’m Beau,” he said, holing out his hand. “I’m in love with his girlfriend.”
Anderson’s eyes widened, and he glanced at me warily. I grinned, and he shook his head.
“All right,” he said, unlocking the door. “Keep quiet, and follow me.”
He led us down the darkened hallways to another locked door, which he unlocked with another key on his ring.
Anderson sighed. “I’m going to be so fired for this.”
I patted him on the back. “I’ll get you another job.”
He led us into a small office lined with filing cabinets. He led us to a tall one in the corner, and pulled open the second drawer.
“This is it,” he said, thumbing through the folders inside. “We’re just lucky this office hasn’t gone digital yet. Take out your phone.”
I did, and he read out two addresses. I keyed them in and placed my phone back in my pocket.
“We owe you, Anderson,” Beau told him. “When we find Paige, we’ll make sure to find you and take you out.”
He nodded. “No problem. I hope you find her, and that she’s okay.”
“She will be,” I said with determination. “She has to be.”
Twenty-One
Paige
“Professor Schilling?”
We hadn’t spoken in a long time. I was still lying on the bed feeling sorry for myself, when I realized that we hadn’t come up with a plan for what we were going to do when Krista showed up again.
When he didn’t answer me, I sat upon the mattress to take a look at him.
He was slumped on the floor again, his eyes closed and his body still.
“Oh, crap,” I muttered, sliding off the bed.
I crouched down next to him. “Professor Schilling?”
He didn’t stir; I reached down to touch his head. It was cold and clammy, and his head wound was an even darker purple.
He’d passed out again. If he didn’t get medical attention soon, I guessed he wasn’t going to make it.
I sank to the floor next to him. He wasn’t exactly a good man, but I didn’t want him to die. I didn’t want anyone else to die. I rubbed his hand while I waited for our fates to be sealed.
When I heard the sound of the lock sliding back on the door above me, my heart accelerated, because I knew this was it.
She was going to kill me, and there was nothing I could do or say that would change her mind.
The door swung open, and Krista descended the steps, her arms laden with a huge black plastic tarp and a coil of rope. She dragged it down the steps, groaning the entire way.
I glanced up the step at the door she had left open, wondering if I could make a run for it before she had the wherewithal to stop me. I shook my head, dismissing my own thought. I would have to run right past her to make it up the steps, and I wasn’t confident that I’d be fast enough.
This was a situation that I’d have to use my mouth to get me out of.
“Krista,” I said sweetly. “Dr. Schilling is unconscious again. You left us down here a long time. Has it been half a day? What are you going to do with him when he wakes up? He’s still going to be pretty pissed at you. Probably more so, since it looks like you’re going to do away with me right here in this cellar. Or worse, what will you do with him if he doesn’t wake up at all?”
My hands were trembling, so I placed them behind my back and clenched them into fists.
“Shut up,” she muttered, still busy with her bundle. She set it on the floor and began to spread out the tarp.
“But,” I tried again. “Do you think you’re going to be able to get my”—I tried not to choke on the word—“body up those steps in that tarp all by yourself? That’s not possible.”
She froze, and eyed me suspiciously. Then she glanced at the steps, and back at me.
The thrill of my tiny victory crept along my spine. She hadn’t thought about how she was going to get me out of here.
“Maybe I’ll just leave you here,” she said nastily. “This isn’t my house, anyway. It’s a rental.”
The bitter wind outside was making the door flap against the ground above us, a hollow thumping that sent an ache through me. How close freedom was! If I could only get her to move me from this cellar before she killed me. If she got me outside first, I’d have half a chance at fighting her, or escaping her.
“I’ll cooperate,” I blurted out suddenly. “If you swear to me you won’t hurt anyone else after this, I’ll walk up those steps with you and let you put me in your car. Then you can take me to wherever you plan to bury me and I’ll cooperate every step of the way.”
She stared at me, her eyes widening with surprise. “You would do that? Even though you know once we get to where we’re going, I’m going to kill you? Because I can’t go back on that now, Paige. You know everything. It’s obvious that jerk”—she pointed at Dr. Schilling—“ wasn’t worth all this, but I can’t end it now.”
She was starting to feel remorseful! Hope sprung like a latch inside my chest, and it blossomed and bloomed even more fully when I glanced up at the stairs to see the shadow of a person standing at the top.
He bent, sticking his head into the cellar opening, and I almost sobbed from the relief of seeing Clay’s face. I stared at him in disbelief, and then forced myself to place my eyes back on Krista.
She was still watching me, and she almost turned around to see what caused the change of expression on my face.
“Yes!” I said quickly, to distract her. I spoke louder. “I’ll do it. I’ll walk up those stairs with you and go wherever you want. Just stop hurting people.”
She assessed me another minute.
“You’d better hurry,” I pointed out. “He’ll wake up any minute, and don’t you want to be gone by then?”
I saw the moment she conceded. Her head bobbing in a satisfied nod, she reached behind her and pulled the shiny silver pistol out of her waistband, and I shuddered at the sight of it.
“Move,” she ordered briskly. “Up the steps.”
I did as I was told, and prayed Clay had some sort of plan for when we reached the surface.
I stamped my feet loudly on each step, just so he’d know we were coming up and prepare himself for whatever he was going to do.
“It doesn’t matter how much noise you make,” Krista snapped. “No one can hear you out here.”
When my head cleared the top of the steps, I breathed in wintry air and looked for Clay. He was nowhere to be seen.
We walked across the hard, cold ground with Krista and her gun at my back. I found myself wondering how strong she was, questioning whether I could take her. With the gun in the picture, I didn’t want to risk it.
She guided me toward a car in the distance, but when we were closer, she stopped.
“What the hell?” she muttered.
She was staring at the car parked behind hers, a large silver Land Rover.
She whirled, searching, forgetting to keep the gun glued to my back. I took the opportunity to crouch to the ground, and that was when Krista was thrown sideways, hurtling across the ground at the mercy of what could have been a freight train.
Clay was suddenly there, helping me up, dragging me a short distance away to crouch beside the Rover.
“Are you okay?” he asked
frantically, framing my face with his hands. “Are you hurt, Paige?”
I shook my head and glanced back to where Krista was struggling to keep her gun away from a very resolute Beau.
“Help him,” I said in a strangled tone. “She’s psychotic!”
Clay stared into my eyes for a second more before he took off toward the struggling Beau and Krista. They were rolling on the ground, and I could tell from where I was crouched the he was attempting to pry the gun from her grasp. My body was frozen from the cold and from shock, and all I could do was watch helplessly while Beau struggled to free the deadly weapon and wrench it away.
Clay was halfway to the twosome when the shot rang through the frosty night air. A scream rent the night, and with a burning in my throat I realized it was mine.
Clay stood motionless for a second, and then sprinted the rest of the way, sliding to the ground beside them. He reached in between the two and ripped the gun free. Krista scrambled away backwards on her hands and feet like a crab, screaming.
“He did it! He did it!”
I ran.
I ran to Beau, because something inside me told me that he needed me.
I bent next to where Beau lay so still, and stared down into his eyes. I brushed a strand of hair out of the way.
He smiled up at me. “Didn’t I tell you I’d do anything for you?”
A sob escaped from my throat and I reached out for his shirt. There was a blooming red stain over his stomach, and I lifted the soaking fabric to see a ragged, gaping hole where solid, clean skin should have been.
“Oh, God,” I whispered. My hands covered the hole, and my stomach wrenched at the contact with his meaty flesh.
I heard sirens in the distance, and I looked toward Clay. He was holding the gun aimed at Krista, who was sitting on the ground rocking back and forth with her knees pulled up to her chest.
“Hey, beautiful,” Beau said, his voice just a breath. “Eyes on me.”
I looked back at him, unable to see him clearly through the tears brimming my eyes.
“You’re going to be okay,” I said in a panic. “Beau. They’re coming. You hold on, you hear me?”
He blinked, and it was a struggle for him to open his eyes again.
“Not gonna happen, baby girl. Listen to me. You were worth it. You deserve everything. Everything. And now you’re going to have it, okay?”
I nodded, the tears falling freely down my cheeks. I reached out and cupped his face in my hands, trying to hold the warmth inside of him. My palms left red streaks on his too-pale skin.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I sobbed. “Stay with me, Beau.”
“I’m right here,” he whispered, and used all of the strength he had left to reach up and graze my chest. “I love you, sweetheart. Always have. Always will.”
His eyes drifted closed, and I lay my head down on his chest as I wept for the man who loved me first.
The paramedics had to pry me away as they arrived on the scene. The police weren’t far behind, and as soon as they took the gun from Clay, he was upon me. He lifted me up into his arms and carried me to the Land Rover.
Clay
I took my girl home.
She was silent in the car, after having given her statement to the police who arrived on the scene.
I never wanted to face the fact that she loved Beau. I never wanted to think about their relationship, never wanted to imagine how deep her feelings for him really went. But driving back with her to my apartment, I watched her out of the corner of my eye, and my girl’s heart was shattered. Her head lolled against the cold window, her eyes stayed closed. The tears never dried on her cheeks, and her chest shuddered with every breath she took.
I pulled her from the Rover, carrying her up the sidewalk and into the dark apartment. I wasn’t sure where Drew and Rob were, but I was grateful that I had the place to myself. The last thing Paige needed at this moment was an audience.
I led her to the bathroom and lifted her up onto the counter. Pulling off her muddy shoes, and stripping her of the dress she’d been wearing since the night she was taken, I turned on the water in the shower as hot as I thought she could stand.
Her eyes never met mine as I stripped, and then her head found my shoulder as I lifted her and placed her, shivering, into the shower. I sank to the tiled floor with Paige on my lap, cradling her close to my chest and letting the water run all around us. Steam began to fill the space, and I leaned my head back against the wall and finally, finally allowed my own tears to fall.
I wasn’t sure why I was crying. I guessed it was for the man who saved her life. She loved him, and I was totally unable to deal with that fact, but he took a bullet for her. And he’d paid the price for it. Now she wasn’t going to get the closure she needed, and I’d never get the chance to tell him thank you.
The world was such a fucked-up place sometimes.
When I thought we’d had enough hot water and steam to make us moderately clean, I brushed Paige’s slick, dark hair out of her eyes. Peering into her face, her eyes locked onto mine and the desolation I saw in them grabbed a hold of my heart and crushed it to smithereens.
I turned off the shower and stood her up in front of me, wrapping her up in a towel and carefully rubbing her dry. There were no words; I knew that. All I could do was be here for her.
Until she was ready.
~**~
I watched Paige as she bent over the casket. I was afraid she’d climb in to lie next to Beau, and I was ready to retrieve her if she needed me to.
The girl I loved was broken, once again. Since Beau had literally thrown himself in front of a bullet for her, the guilt was swallowing her whole. She thought the whole thing was her fault, and I couldn’t get her to see that he did it because he loved her, because he wanted her to live.
It was swallowing her whole, the entire situation. The sadness, the loss. I think the loss was the worst, because how much loss was one person expected to be able to handle? Paige had endured more than her fair share.
All I could do was be there for her when she needed my shoulder to cry. I refused to be separated from her during this time. She needed me.
As the last of the funeral guests trickled out of the church doors, a petite woman approached Paige and placed a hand on her back.
Paige straightened, and her eyes fell on the woman. Her face crumbled.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Reynolds,” she said. “I’m sorry he’s gone.”
Beau’s mother patted her shoulder. “Me, too, sweet girl. But he loved you. He loved you something fierce, and Beau always knew his own heart. If he died saving you, then you were worth saving.”
Paige shook her head wearily in disagreement.
“Now, you listen to me,” Mrs. Reynolds said sternly, brushing a strand of silvery hair out of her eyes. “No more of this wallowing, girl. You need to remember that Beau is watching you, and he wants nothing more than for you to be happy.”
She nodded toward me, and I watched, fascinated, as Paige turned to stare at me.
“You got people who love you, and that will carry you through this. After today, you’re going to be all right. You hear?”
Paige let her gaze slide back to Beau’s mother. “Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s right,” the woman said. “Now, we’re going to go bury my son, and after that there’ll be no more crying.”
She took Paige’s arm, and led her out of the church doors and around to the cemetery in the back of the building.
I followed them at a distance, and stood in the front row. I held onto Paige tightly as they lowered Beau into the ground, warring with my own emotions as well as hers. When her knees buckled, I once again picked her up and held her to me as I carried her to my car.
I strapped her into her seat and walked slowly around the front of the Rover. When I climbed into my own seat I turned to face her, reaching across the console to cup her face with one hand. My thumb gingerly rubbed the imperfection on the side of her cheek,
and I was reminded that though she was epically gorgeous, she was scarred for life.
Add one more scar to the tally.
“Where do you want to go now?” I asked her.
She stared out the windshield. “I watched them lower him into the ground today, Clay. I don’t know how to come back from that. Not again.”
My heart, which had begun to crack for her since the moment I met her, broke cleanly in two.
“I know, baby,” I said softly. “I know it hurts. I know you’re broken. But Paige, you will survive this, too. I know because I’d never met a true survivor before I met you and you’ll make it to the other side of this. And this time, you have me.”
Beau and I hadn’t been friends; at one point I would have said we were enemies. But in the end, I had to respect a man who loved my girl as much as I did. Jealousy didn’t even matter past a certain point. He had died saving her, and for that I owed him my own life.
“Home,” she finally said. She looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time since we found her in that basement. “I want to go home.”
Twenty-Two
Clay
I was right. She was broken, but she was strong. In the days and weeks following Beau’s death, she cried. She got angry. She asked why.
She Skyped with her therapist from Simpsonville, long conversations in the darkness of her bedroom that I wasn’t a part of.
And slowly, she healed.
I watched the entire process from the space beside her. It was riveting, inspiring, and terrifying all at once. Paige rocketed through the gamut of emotions as a result losing Beau. I didn’t always know what to do with them. Sometimes I even wondered if maybe she wanted him here instead of me.
“Clay,” she said one day, about a month following the shooting. “I am so sorry. You’ve been sitting here with me, watching me go through all of this, and I haven’t once considered your feelings.”
“My feelings weren’t a priority this time, Paige,” I protested. “This was a time for you to heal. I’ve been dealing with everything okay.”
Settling Ashes: A New Adult/College Romance (The Ashes Series Book 2) Page 17