Broken Road (29 page)

“Me too.” She said and smiled.
 
Then she turned around and headed down the hall toward her own room.
 
Two steps forward and three steps back. Their relationship so far was just like a dance, a frustrating dance that made her want to give up some times. It didn’t help that her feeling were all out of whack either. Somedays she just wanted to go up to him and
demand
that he tell her what happened to Shane on that road outside of Baghdad. Other days, like this one, she struggled with her own feelings, her own loyalties regarding Riley Favreau. She had to remind herself why she was there and make herself remember that she was with Riley for a reason and that was to find out the truth. But tonight being with him made her feel like that purpose was secondary and it scared her because she had felt these feelings before. Not with Jon but with Shane. It was love. She was falling in love with the man who had somehow failed to save her husband’s life.

Someone was pounding on the door.
 
Screaming his name.
 
Riley tried desperately to sit up.
 
Where was he?
 
He looked around frantically in the dark.
 
He couldn’t remember. The pounding continued.
 
Someone wanted inside.
 
Who?
 
He couldn’t make out what they were saying.
 
He felt around.
 
Sheets.
 
Pillows.
 
A bed.
 
He was lying on a bed.
 
More pounding.
 
He made an effort to pull himself up.
 
As far as he could tell there was nothing on top of him. Nothing to prevent him from sitting up.
 
Then why couldn’t he? Panic began to set in. He wanted to turn on a light. He hated the dark. He thought he had left the lamp on before he went to bed last night. Last night.
 
He struggled to remember again where he was, how he had gotten wherever he was but his head hurt.
 
Maybe he was back at home, he suddenly thought relieved that he could remember something.
 
The farmhouse.
 
The place that had been his home for many weeks now. He took a deep breath.
 
Maybe he should call for some help, he thought.
 
He tried to open his mouth and call for someone, but he couldn’t.
 
No sound came out.
 
More panic. What was wrong?
 
Pounding at the door.
 
The door?
 
What door?
 
The door he shared with Renae’s room, he remembered.
 
But why would someone be pounding on that?
 
It didn’t lock.
 
Anyone could walk right in.
 
But there was no one in the room.
 
He was alone in the dark.
 
Paralyzed, voiceless, and alone.
 
The panic surged through him like a cold rush of water.
 
Finally, the pounding stopped and the door creaked open.
 
He could hear it.
 
His heart was pounding now-a hundred miles an hour.
 
He could feel that someone had entered the room.
 
He could barely make out the figure walking slowly toward the bed. It felt slow and menacing.
 
His breath came faster and faster.
 
He wanted to scream out, ask who was there, call for Renae, Louis or Doreen. As the dark, figure made its way closer to the bed, it began to dawn on him that it was no more than a little over three feet tall.
 
His breath caught in his throat as the figure came closer and as his eyes adjusted to the dark he was able to make out more details than before. Soon the figure was at his side and he could feel it climb up on the bed.
 
Cold shivers filling him as he felt something crawl across his immobilized body, toward his face.
 
An eerie light surrounding it as it neared his face and he could see what it was. He could see
who
it was.
 
The little face came closer and the light that came from behind gave him a clear look at the features. They were disfigured, almost melted away on one side.
 
Burned.
 
A smattering of singed hairs poking out from the side of that head that was mostly skull with pieces of charred skin attached.
 
The other side of the face was angelic, exotic and perfect in comparison with long locks of dark, wavy hair flowing from it. The eye was dark and inquisitive in comparison to its partner that was nothing more than a sunken socket.
 
The little face flashed a half grimace, half smile and terror filled him in unimaginable ways.
 
He could make out the remains of a blue singed tunic clinging to the charred little body and there was no question.
 
There was no question at all as to who it was.
 
It was the little Iraqi girl he had found in the middle of that godforsaken road all those many months ago.
 
The little girl that had disappeared along with the soldier he had attempted to drag away from the debris of the first explosion, after a second explosion had blown them off the road and into oblivion.
 
He tried to scream, but nothing came out.
 
Then, he felt the icy cold touch of the little girl’s fingers, bones exposed, charred skin scratching against his chin and she cupped her hand around his face and pulled it inches from her own.
   
Riley tried to close his eyes, but they would not obey.
 
He could not take his eyes of her disfigured face or ignore the cold of her tiny hand.
 
Her lips were moving but he was having a hard time making out what she was saying in the dim light that came from behind her. Her voice was an eerie whisper.
 
What was she saying? What the hell was she trying to tell him?
 
His mouth was dry and his throat constricted making it impossible for him to swallow. Fear had taken hold of him completely.
 
The little girl whispered again and this time he could barely make out the words.
You let me die!
Holy shit!
 
Holy shit!
 
He repeated the words to himself over and over. Just when he
 
thought that he would pass out from the terror, the sheer terror of the encounter he heard another pounding.
 
Heavy pounding.
 
Frantic pounding.
 
But where?
 
The door was already open.
 
The little girl removed her hands from his face and moved them to his throat.
 
She wrapped her tiny fingers around his neck and started to squeeze.
 
He could barely breathe.
 
She was choking him.
 
More pounding .

“Riley!
 
Riley!
 
It’s me! Open the door!
 
Dammit, Riley, open the door!”

He struggled to focus on the sound of the voice.
 
It was familiar.
 
It was help.
 
He wanted to yell out but the hands around his throat were too strong.
 
Then suddenly, the hands released him and he found his voice.
 
He screamed.
 
He screamed bloody murder and he was sitting straight up.
 
He was no longer immobile.
 

“Riley!
 
What’s going on?
 
Goddammit open this door” Pounding followed by more pounding.
 
He opened his eyes and found that he wasn’t anywhere near the bed.
 
He was on the floor, facedown near the door.
 
His breaths still came in rapid spurts and he was drenched in sweat.
 
What the hell happened?
 
The screaming had stopped and slowly he forced himself to reach up with his hand and grab onto the doorknob.
 
He used it to pull himself up, undo the top lock and slowly, painfully open the door.
 
He found Renae there, panic, worry and fear painted across her face.
 
He could imagine what he looked like to her.
 
This was something he had never wanted her to see.

“My God, Riley, are you okay?” She asked opening the door and walking in.
 
She noticed that he was barely clinging to the door, unsteady and shaky.

“I heard you screaming.
 
I thought you were being murdered in here!” she exclaimed and reached out her arms to support him as he slumped back down to the floor.
 

“Do I need to call 911?” she said flipping on the light switch.

“N-N-No” he stuttered.

“Riley, what’s wrong?
 
What happened?
 
Are you sick?
 
Are you hurt?” she said kneeling beside him.
 
She laid a hand on his forehead and felt how clammy and cold it was.

“Riley, please, what can I do to help you? Tell me!”

“N-Noth-ing. B-B-ad-d-re-am.” He said, his teeth chattering.
 
He felt he had broken out in a cold sweat.

“There has to be something.” She said and sat behind him, wrapping her arms around him as best as she could.

‘P-P-P-P-lease g-g-g-go.”
 

“Why would I do that?
 
No, Riley, I think we should call someone.”

“N-N-N-No.” He shook his head and leaned against her weakly.

“Why not?
 
Riley, something is wrong with you. What is it?”

“N-N-Nothing.” He said in barely a whisper.
 
Renae said nothing but held him to her chest.

“I heard you all the way in my room.
 
It woke me up.
 
The screaming.” She said and Riley didn’t try to say anything.
 
He just laid in her arms and tried to catch his breath.

“Can you tell me what it was about?” she asked quietly.
 
Riley shook his head slowly.

“No?” He heard her sigh.
 
No, he thought emphatically and closed his eyes for a moment.
 
The image of the disfigured girl was still fresh in his mind.
 
He cringed inwardly wanting to forget every hellish moment of this last episode.
 
The fatigue he felt was tremendous.
 

“Can I help you back into bed?” she was asking, but her voice sounded so far away.
 
His eyes felt so heavy but he was afraid to close them.
 
What if the little girl came back?
 
He didn’t know if he could take another round.
 
But Brenda was already getting to her feet and struggling to pull him up with her.
 
Before long he was sprawled back on the bed.
 
He lay there and tried to forget what it must all look like to her, what
he
must look like to her.
 
He felt the bed move.
 
What was she doing?
 

“Scoot, soldier.” She said and pressed on his back with her hands.
 
They were warm on his skin.
 
He made an effort to roll over to the far side of the bed.
 
She was covering him with the sheet and bedcovers.
 
Then she got in the bed and lay next to him.
 
He panicked.

“W-w-w-what are y-y-you doing?” he whispered weakly.

“I’m bunking with you for the night.” She answered.

“N-n-n-no.” he protested.

“Why not?
 
You’re not looking too good and you won’t let me call anyone.
 
So, I’m staying where I can keep an eye on you.”

“N-n-n-no.”
 

“Riley, I’m not leaving you by yourself.
 
I promised I’d look after you, didn’t I? I told you you’d be fine.”
 

“N-n-n-no.”

“Are you worried about me sleeping in the same bed with you?
 
Don’t worry I’m not planning on taking advantage of you.
 
Obviously.”
 
She said.
 
He was too tired to argue about it.
 
It took too much effort to form the words.
 
Then he felt her gently stroke the back of his head.

“I’m just worried about you.
 
That’s all.”
 
I’m not worth it.
That’s what he wanted to tell her.
 
But the fatigue fell on him like a weight.
 
The darkness was coming and he was praying that it would be the kind that gave him dreamless sleep.
 
His eyelids closed and as they did, he felt her reach over and press herself up to his back, hug him with one arm, while placing her other arm up near his head and stroking his hair.
 

“I’m here, Riley. You sleep.
 
I’ll take care of you.” He heard her whisper as he drifted into the darkness.

When he awoke the next morning, she was still wrapped around him.
 
He could hear her soft breathing and felt the warmth of her body next to his.
 
He vaguely remembered the events of the prior evening and tried to forget them once they became clear.
 
His head had a slight ache pounding in the back at the base of his neck.
 
He reached back to massage the area and felt prickly strands of her hair next to his on the pillow, grazing his shoulders.
 

He ran a short strand through his fingers.
 
It felt like satin in his hands. He wondered what he should do now?
 
He could only imagine the questions she would have once she woke up and realized what had happened.
 
He felt the heat of shame flush over his face.
 
Everything was so messed up.
 
He couldn’t do this.
 
He wouldn’t do this.
 
He tried to sit up but her arm was firmly wrapped around his waist.
 
He didn’t want to wake her up but he couldn’t be here when she did.
 
Slowly he pried himself loose and managed to slowly sit up and leave the bed without disturbing her. He took a moment to turn around and watch her for a minute, laying there, curled around the spot where he had slept without another dream.
 
There was a part of him that gnawed with a distant longing as he looked at her.
 
What if. . .
no
. He stopped the thought abruptly and turned back to the chair where his duffel bag lay.
 
He grabbed jeans, a t-shirt, boxers and fresh socks.
 
He quietly stepped in to the bathroom and put everything on, stuffing everything else back into the duffel.When he came out he saw that she was still sleeping.He felt the tug of desire once more but fought it, put on his ball cap and made his way to the door.
 
He wondered for a moment if he should leave her a note.
 
Something.
 
Apologizing?
 
Explaining?
 
For what?
 
His hand was on the doorknob.
 
He took a deep breath.
Coward.
That’s exactly what he was.
 
He had never thought any different.
 
Now it would be apparent to Renae too.
 
That bothered him a little more than he cared to admit. But he was too confused by everything.
 
Losing Misty, finding Renae. . .waiting for the moment that someone would figure out the truth.
 
And they would too.
 
He knew it.
 
It was just a matter of time.
 
As he left the motel room, there was a part of him that was screaming for him to turn around and go back.
 
To go back and take her hands in his, look her in the eye and tell her everything.
 
Everything.
 
Let the cards fall where they may and wait for it all to come tumbling down around him.
 
But that part was easily silenced by the nightmares, episodes and heartaches that filled him like a jar full of marbles.
 
They rattled inside him cold and hard.
 
He tried to forget everything that had happened in the last few months.
 
During the trip up he had gotten a better look at the Renae he thought he knew.
 
He expected her to be the sassy, vibrant brunette that worked the counter at the café but the stay in South Dakota had changed that and she became someone entirely different; a person battling her own demons, trying to soothe her own scars, discovering her own potential.
 
For a while, he was able to forget his own darkness and bask under her light and it was a relief. Now, he wasn’t sure of anything.
 
So he would do the only thing he knew how to do anymore; he would walk away.
 
By the time she woke up, Riley would be on a Greyhound to anywhere that wasn’t home. And, if he saw her again, which wasn’t part of the plan, he wouldn’t try to give her any reason to come looking for him anymore.
 
He’d let her see the darkness and let it be a warning to her to avoid him.
 
He couldn’t handle anymore. He couldn’t let anybody else in, not now and not ever.
 
Goodbye,
he thought as the taxi pulled up in front of the motel.
Goodbye.