Finding Refuge

by J. P. Oliver

  “Zach Savage—Isaac Savage. Yeah. I know all about you. I’ve done a little digging.” Edward nodded over his shoulder, back to Curtis. “Did you tell him about it all, or should I?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, leveling him with a glare made to kill.

  “I know all about that mess you got into back—what? Ten or eleven years ago? What were you then? Eighteen? Seventeen? I’d go ahead and guess seventeen, since you didn’t do any jailtime for getting that other kid killed in a wreck.”

  Guilt, white-hot and raw shot through me. It was as strong as any bullet. The anger and desire to take Edward down began to bow to a stronger emotion: regret, years in the making.

  “Shut up—”

  “What was his name again? Joseph… something? Doesn’t matter, though, does it? I bet none of it does, when you’re part of the town’s most influential family, I’m sure anything you do could get covered up, murder included—”

  I felt my mind sway from the blow. It was low. It was cruel; old wounds, exposed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, but I do. I’ve got my sources, y’know. You’re not the only guy around here with friends in high places, and a little birdie told me all about your great fuck-up. Wanna know who?”

  Edward’s smile curled viciously, like he was enjoying every bit of this.

  “Winston Savage.”

  I wanted to call him a liar. I wanted to believe it was bullshit, but I couldn’t; Winston hated all of us, some more than others, but the family was an entity he’d devoted himself to contending with. Any weakness he could exploit, he would. And I was one of them.

  I knew all about Winston’s manipulative, unyielding nature, but it still hurt. I was his brother. I was his family and he betrayed me.

  “Apparently he heard you talking about it to Victor, years and years ago. Said he was holding onto it until the time was right. Not that you stopped there.”

  My fingers twitched on my holster.

  Was he going to draw this out? Or was he going to make a move?

  “Navy SEAL?” Edward asked, feigning being impressed. “That’s amazing. How many people have you killed, Zach?”

  “You don’t know what—”

  “What I’m talking about? That’s what SEALs do on their missions, right? Kill? Take out the enemy? And you’ve been hiding another dirty little secret, working as a mercenary on the side.”

  I felt my mouth go dry.

  “Yeah,” Edward smirked, waving the gun a little at me, taunting. “I know all about it. Hunting people, tracking them down just to get paid. But was it always really about just the money, Zach? Or was it just to satisfy the cold-blooded killer inside?”

  “Zach….” Curtis murmured.

  “I’m guessing you haven’t told him?”

  I glanced at Curtis, wanting all of this to go away, for the world to fall apart around us so we could just have a moment together. I’d come home to tell him the truth, but here we were, reunited and faced with another secret. I was planning on spilling all of this information to Curtis in private—not that it was entirely correct. I wasn’t a cold-blooded killer; I was working for the CIA, tracking down terrorists.

  I wasn’t trying to argue with Edward, though. You couldn’t argue with crazy—especially when crazy was wielding a gun.

  “Put the gun down, Edward,” Curtis tried again softly. “Please. We can work this out—”

  “I told you how many times?” Edward snapped, unhinged. “Because of the two of you and your fucking meddling, and your precious, precious little bumfuck town, I lost everything. I lost everything.”

  Edward’s mouth twitched in and out of a smile.

  I saw the idea reach his eyes, resolution followed by his mouth.

  “And now,” he said, “so will you.”

  My mind went blank, zeroed in on Edward as he turned sharply and pointed his pistol at Curtis. I heard Curtis shout in surprise, my body moving on its own accord, snapping into action, pushing past the strain in my leg as I lunged at Curtis, throwing my body between him and Edward to protect him.

  My body collided with his.

  The sound of a shot fired, exploding in a small space.

  As we landed in a heap on the floor, I looked up and saw Curtis on the floor, assuming the worst. That first second, I felt the desperation, the fear of losing him coming to life—and in the second, I felt the pain, blooming like a forest fire in my shoulder.

  Curtis hadn’t been shot.

  I had.

  My head slammed into the floor as I gasped for a good breath, groaning around the sudden shock of pain. My mind struggled to process all that was happening around me, fighting hard to keep its bearings—but it was a blur. Chaotic and frenetic.

  I heard a second shot and saw the blur of a body falling.

  Edward, I realized, blinking against my wavering conscious. He was lying in front of me, his arms flung out on the floor, wrapped in his cheap suit.

  I rolled onto my back, body singing in its pain. Muscles tense, I fought. I fought hard to stay awake, to stay alert, to know what was happening. I felt the warmth at my shoulder, dripping onto my neck. It soaked into my shirt: blood.

  People rushed around me as I began to fade out, the darkness creeping in on all sides of my vision. Someone touch my head, something soft pressed to my forehead. People were yelling from everywhere, barking and shouting things to one another that only made half-sense. Forcing my eyes open one last time, I found Sara hovering over me, falling to her knees at Curtis’s side. Vaguely, I registered her mouth opening, words spilling out, but it was all a fuzz, a bleary excuse for understanding.

  And then it was nothing at all.

  22

  Curtis

  Zach will be fine. Sara is a good doctor. You can trust her.

  I repeated these words over and over to myself like a mantra, like a prayer, like they were the last things on Earth I could believe in. Zach was in surgery, and I paced uselessly around the waiting room with his family. I should have been in there with her, helping, but it was Zach. I couldn’t operate on him—not knowing what was at stake, and not after what had just unfolded.

  Edward was dead.

  That was one truth we could all cling to; one problem solved.

  As his body fell away from the frame of the open door, I saw what lay outside: the police and their swirling, shining lights. Specifically, Wyatt, gun smoking in his capable hands.

  The police surprised us all. They’d made the decision, they told me, to keep the lights off as they surrounded the clinic; apparently, the call came in from Sara, who saw everything happening from the receptionist’s office. They were quick to respond, but not quick enough to anticipate Edward’s trigger finger.

  One problem solved, but that still left another: tending to Zach. I stared at the door to the back of the clinic, knowing that Sara was with him on the other side, working hard to save his life and take out the bullet.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder suddenly, drawing me from my thoughts.

  Beth smiled up at me, offering a little bag of chocolates she’d gotten from a vending machine. “Want one?”

  I shook my head. “No. Thanks, though.”

  She squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “He’ll be okay, Curtis. You know him. He’s strong.”

  “You’re right,” I huffed, because she was right. Rationally. I just needed to think about this rationally. “It was only his shoulder. He didn’t lose a lot of blood and he was here when it happened, which counts for something.” I glanced at Beth. “Right?”

  “Right.” She rested her head against my shoulder, giving me a small side-hug. “The facts don’t lie, Curtis. He’s gonna be okay. I can feel it.”

  “Women’s intuition?” I asked, grinning small and tired.

  She returned it. “Savage women’s intuition.”

  “Ah.”

  “The strongest kind, really.”

  “I don’t doubt it,”
I hummed.

  As we fell into a mutual silence, I couldn’t keep my brain from wandering to other things: I needed Zach to be okay, but I also needed to know what he was doing back in North Creek. What did it mean that he was home three months early, and what did it meant that he had shown up at the clinic when he did, my knight in shining armor? I had too many questions and the only person who could answer them was Zach.

  It was hours before we heard anything, and then the door I’d been staring at all afternoon was nudged open, and that simple movement breathed life back into the room. We all sat up just a little taller, breaths held in anticipation as Sara revealed herself, with a tired, accomplished smile.

  “He’s okay,” she confirmed. “It went off fine.”

  The family rushed her. Cousins and brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and parents crowded around her, asking a dozen questions at once. Sara laughed as Ashley Savage clasped her hands and thanked her a hundred times over. It was a flurry of news and activity and relief as Sara repeated over and over, “It all went well. He’s just resting up now.”

  The relief filled me. I felt whole and full with indescribable emotion. Happiness was too simple a word to describe it. It was many things, vibrating with the desire to see him in one piece for myself.

  Sara caught my eye and smiled.

  Ashley turned and followed her gaze, reaching out for me to come to the front. I let her tow me closer and touch my cheek with a motherly smile.

  “Would you like to see him first?” she asked.

  Eyes wide, I looked around at all the family: people who deserved to see him more than me, who he would probably prefer to have around him. “Me?”

  “Yes,” she laughed. “Yes, you.”

  “Go on ahead,” Victor encouraged. “We don’t mind.”

  Everyone who heard Ashley’s offer sounded off that they approved.

  I flushed, excitement roiling through me. “If that’s all right—”

  “There’s no one he’d rather wake up to,” Markus confirmed, grinning up at me knowingly from his wheelchair.

  “Just me?” I asked. “That doesn’t seem fair—”

  “Beth,” Ashley called. “Go with him. You two let him know that we’re all out here waiting for him, will you?”

  Beth looped her arm into mine, and her presence gave me a strength and support I wouldn’t have had all on my own. These people—they were my family. I felt it in that moment, stronger than ever before. Maybe not biologically, but they had always been there, all my life. The Savages and the Crosses—North Creek—was my family, and we would all see this through together.

  Sara nudged the door open, gesturing for us to follow.

  When it shut behind us, the sound of the family’s chatter was dulled instantly. Without them behind me, I felt my heart beating hard in my ears. We were going to see Zach. Finally, finally, after months apart and this crazy incident, we could be face-to-face again. Under any other circumstances, I might have been resistant to the idea. Now, all I wanted was to be by his side.

  “He’s in that one there,” Sara said, pointing to an innocuous door. “Just buzz if you need anything.”

  “You’re not coming?” I asked.

  She shot me a knowing look. “You’re a big boy. And you’ve got Beth with you. I’m going to go talk to Mrs. Savage some more, all right?”

  “Thanks, Sara,” Beth said, giving me a soft pull. “Ready?”

  “Yeah,” I said, taking in a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

  Zach was fast asleep.

  Beth joked about waking him up as we sat in the bedside chairs, watching him sleep. The rise and fall of his chest was steady. His breathing was normal. I checked over all his vitals on the monitor, and those were normal, too; doctor’s habits. The results of the surgery were enough to let me breathe a little easier.

  “He loves you, you know.”

  Beth’s words startled me quietly. When I tore my eyes away from Zach’s sleeping form, I saw she was looking at me, watching carefully.

  I nodded slowly. “I think part of me…knew that. Deep down.”

  “But you broke it off.”

  “He was leaving.”

  “He wouldn’t have gone if he didn’t have to,” she murmured. The conversation was hushed, soft; she wasn’t chastising, and I didn’t feel defensive. It was just an honest conversation with a truth I’d always known. “He wanted to stay in North Creek with you. I’m not one to tell other people what to do, but I do love giving people unsolicited advice.”

  We grinned at one another.

  “You ought to give him another chance,” she said.

  I considered it. What we had was good. Better than good, it was just about perfect before it had all fallen apart. The root of that had always been his position in Virginia, and that was still there, still between us.

  “He isn’t staying, Beth,” I whispered, emotion clogging my chest. “His life and his career is in Virginia—”

  “It’s not,” she said, taking my hand in hers. “He’s home for good. He didn’t reenlist.”

  I thought instantly of the ring in my desk. Of what Beth was saying. Of what Sara had said. All signs pointed towards Zach, and as I looked at him in this delicate, vulnerable state, knowing he loved me and came back for me and had saved me, again, I saw the truth that had always been in front of me since we were both little kids running around on the playground together: Zach was my future.

  Did I deserve a love like his, after all I’d thought about him? After how many times I pushed him away? Would he still want me when he woke up?

  I thought of kissing him. Coming home to him again. It would be nice to not go back to that house alone every night, rebuilt but still holding the memory of him inside it. To see him when I woke up and hold him as I went to sleep. To touch and laugh and argue and live every precious moment of life together….

  Beth gasped quietly, squeezing my hand.

  There on the bed, I saw Zach’s fingers twitch softly. His hand moved slowly and blindly across the bed to where my free hand rested against the sheets. The brush of his skin against mine, featherlight but there, took my breath away.

  Slowly, those blue eyes opened.

  “Hi,” I whispered, fingers curling into his.

  23

  Zach

  I felt my lips pull into a tired smile. It was the best I could manage at the moment, and I hoped Curtis understood how much I meant it. Then again, the painkillers Sara had me on were pretty great.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured, words a bit slow under the weight of my exhaustion. “I just… I never meant to hurt you when I left. I can’t believe you’re here right now—that’s all I wanted, to see you and just tell you how sorry I was—”

  My words stopped in my mouth.

  Curtis shut me up with a light kiss. I was lightheaded with it. His lips were still perfect and soft. I wanted to pull him close and melt into it, but this was fine, too. Perfect, even.

  “I forgive you,” Curtis whispered.

  Okay, fuck the painkillers. Curtis was the only drug I needed.

  “But I want to hear it all,” he added quietly. “You have to tell me everything.”

  I nodded slowly. “I will.”

  And that was a promise.

  I could have fallen asleep like that, just lying there with Curtis’s hand clasped in my own, but then I saw Beth and her watery smile, and couldn’t stop myself from waking up just a bit more.

  “You’re here, too?” I asked.

  “Yeah, you dumbass,” she laughed, sniffling a little. “God, you gave us all a good scare, you know that?”

  “All?”

  “The family,” Beth said. “They’re all here, waiting to see you.”

  There was a bump at the door. And then another. Before I knew it, the damn thing was flying open under the weight of too many family members—Victor and Dominic, Mom and Dad, Uncle Anthony and Wyatt and Kat, even Jared and Samantha had turned out.

  We l
aughed as they tripped into the room.

  “Waiting,” I repeated, laughing a little.

  “Hey, Zach,” Victor greeted, smiling his hundred-watt smile. “You don’t look too bad for having taken a bullet.”

  There was laughter in the room; that was what my family was best at, after all: filling a room with all the best things.

  “Thanks,” I groaned, trying to prop myself up.

  Hands flew out from all directions to guide me back down.

  “You’re gonna pop a damn stitch,” Sara said from the door. “Take it easy.”

  “For today, at least!” said one person.

  “Is Zach even capable of taking it easy?”

  More laughter. I smiled up at Curtis, who returned it with too much intimacy. I loved my family and was happy to see them all here to support me, but I couldn’t wait to have him to myself.

  Slowly, person-by-person, they filled me in on what had happened since I passed out: on Edward, the case, and the property.

  Uncle Anthony spoke up first, intent on no more keeping secrets. He was the one to break the news: it was confirmed that Winston Savage did, in fact, own that big hunk of property southeast of North Creek, but there was no sure idea about what he planned on doing with it.

  “Yet,” Anthony said, making it the operative word.

  Not that the family took that too well, of course. It was a special kind of hateful of Wyatt to buy up the land for some vague purpose. Markus and Victor exchanged many concerned looks. I could only imagine what they were thinking of all this.

  Wyatt spoke after him. He told me that the sheriff’s office was able to confirm that Edward was acting on his own when he set the fires and tried to kill Curtis and Jared. The project would have brought him a lot of money, personally, and they’d all done too good a job ruining his chances.

  That relieved something in me. Knowing Edward was working for Winston, there was always that suspicion: that Winston had something to do with the fires. He was toxic and feuding deeply with the family. But that wasn’t his style. He was careful and perfectly precise. When he came for us, it wouldn’t be through violence or crime. It would be calculated.