Meet Me In The Dark: (A Dark Suspense) (36 page)

“I know,” I say, looking him in the eyes. “And that’s the only reason you’re alive right now.”

I drop the guns and rush him, delivering a two-handed push to his chest. He rocks back, but does not retaliate. I punch him in the face so hard my knuckles split open along with his lip. Blood spurts out and my hand begins to throb.

Nothing from him. I’m not even worth a fight.

The anger, and hate, and feelings of betrayal that I have towards him are seeping out of me like sweat. His cheek turns red where I hit him, but he just stands there.

“I
hate
you.” And then I spit in his face. “I hate you so fucking much.” The tears start to spill out, running down my cheeks in a way I’ve never experienced before. “This was a game to you. You knew he was coming. You knew I was programmed to do this shit. And you used me. You planted that word in my head. When was it? Huh? Before I woke up in that torture cabin? That place you took me to die?”

Case just stares at me. Guilty. “I thought you were unsalvageable,” he says softly. And that kills me. It fucking kills me that he’s so good at that soft stuff. He uses it like a weapon. And because I need that tenderness so much, I actually hesitate. “I figured it was too risky for you to stay alive. But I had an idea. I wanted to help you—”

“Liar! You’re such a fucking liar! You wanted to kill Garrett, fuck me over again, and save your precious princess here. You used that word to make me
love you
. That’s why nothing you did back there bothered me, isn’t it?” He stays silent as I put that piece of the puzzle together. “I hate you. And if I ever see your face again, I will blow it right off your head.”

I turn on my heel and walk away, picking up my guns as I go. Wishing he’d shoot me in the back. Take me out of my misery. But he doesn’t.

So I just step over Garrett’s dead body, get into his truck, slam the door, and drive off.

Be the rabbit, Sydney. Be the rabbit.

Oh, I will,
I assure that inner psycho in my head
. Because running is all I have left.

“It’s a haunting feeling to look back and know you fucked it all up.”

– Case

I
watch the truck drive away with more sadness than I’ve ever felt in my life. And then some muffled whimpers make me realize Sasha is still on the ground. She’s just picking a knife out of Garrett’s pocket, trying to get herself free, when I walk up to her and take it out of her hand.

“One sec, Sash, sorry.” I rip the tape off her mouth and even though that must’ve hurt like a bitch, my Sash stays quiet. I cut her hands free, then her feet, and help her up.

She hugs me. No tears. She stopped crying a long time ago over this shit. But the squeeze tells me everything I need to know.

“You OK?” I ask her.

She nods into my coat. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too, kid.” And then I give her a little push and we start walking back to the snow machine I left on the trail.

“What about him?” Sasha asks, gesturing behind us once we get into the trees.

“Wolves will take care of him. It’s better than he deserves.”

The silence overtakes us as we make our way back to the house and when Sasha gets off the snow machine behind me, I can’t seem to make myself move.

“I’ll be inside,” she says.

“Sure,” I say back, propping my hands on the front of the machine, then dropping my head into them.

I have no idea how long I stay out there, running the day back to the beginning, wishing I could do things different.

Hell, I know I did the right thing when I killed that girl all those years ago. She would’ve ended up just like Sydney. She knew. Her mother told her everything and they were caught trying to escape the compound where they were held. Death or sexual servitude. They both wanted death.

The daughter got off easy, because at least she didn’t end her life being raped by that monster. Garrett would’ve never let her go.

Still, I killed her.

How many people have I killed over the years? Way more than I can remember, that’s for sure.

I think back on my conversations with Sydney. Not the ones out in the cabin, but the ones here at my home.

Are you a
Simple Man,
Case?

Yeah, sure. I’m fucking simple, all right. Kill or be killed. That’s the rule I live by.

My mother would be so proud.

It’s well past dark when Sasha appears in the garage doorway. The lights have been off for hours. I’ve been sitting out here in the cold. The wolves started howling a little while ago and I know, if I were to ride back down the trail, they’d be having a feast.

I momentarily think of joining Garrett out on the dinner table. It would be better than I deserve, and that’s the only thing that stops me.

“Are you gonna come in?”

I look up at Sash and shake my head. “I don’t think I can.” I huff out a long, sad breath. “I know I can’t, Sash. I can’t face what happened in there today. I did it all wrong, man. But I panicked when she said he had you. I just fucking panicked. I thought I was gonna lose you and you know what?”

Sash bites her lip and shakes her head. The worry is plastered all over her face. Has she ever seen me like this? Has anyone ever seen me like this? I don’t think so. I left this guy behind in Boston. The kid who used violence to shut out his fear. Who wanted to be an emotionless mercenary to make the feelings he didn’t understand go away.

No one but my dad has ever seen me like this.

“Tell me. Merc. Because I’m scared right now.” She is too. I can feel the fear all around her. Not
of
me. I’d never hurt her and she knows that. But I’ve always been a very self-destructive man. She’s worried
for
me.

And I do not deserve it.

“I saved you that night because I killed that little girl.” I nod at her, but she says nothing. “And I thought I could wipe that sin away, ya know? But all I did was make it worse for someone else. Sydney was caught in my guilt and she suffered. I can’t even comprehend what she’s thinking right now. The level of betrayal she must feel.”

Sasha walks over and places a hand on my shoulder, giving it a little squeeze of support. “You know what?”

I take a deep breath and ask, “What?”

“I think you made a mistake when you chose me.”

“Fuck that.”

“Because I’ve never needed saving, Merc. Never. I was always gonna get away that night. I knew they were coming for me and I was ready. Maybe I was only twelve, but my father spent every minute of our time together training me to take care of myself. I never needed you that night and she did. And she still needs you, Merc. So I think you just need to admit you should’ve done it different and forgive yourself for it.”

I don’t know what to say back to her. How can I admit that choosing her was wrong? “That decision seemed so easy at the time, Sash. How did I manage to fuck it all up? Would letting Garrett take that first little girl have made Sydney’s life better or worse? There’s just no way to know. And I guess that’s what the hard choices really are. Leaps of faith that you’re doing the right thing. Leaps of faith that you’re doing enough.”

When I look up at her she’s frowning. “You did your best, Merc. No one is judging you for that choice but you.”

“And Sydney.”

“No,” Sasha says. “She’s mad, she feels betrayed. But she’s not judging you. How can she say her life is worth more than mine? I’m certainly not saying my life is worth more than hers. But she can’t judge you, Merc. Because she knows that given a choice like that, she couldn’t be trusted to make the right one either. She can’t even make the right choices for herself, let alone three other people.”

It stings that Sasha includes that first little girl in this equation. Maybe killing her wasn’t the answer after all. Maybe my whole life is a lie I’ve been telling myself.

“No one knows. You just do what you can and hope you did enough,” she continues.

“I didn’t do enough. I know that now. I could’ve gone back for her. I had opportunities. And I didn’t. I let my lust for revenge take over my life. And so here I am. The noble choice I thought I made is just another sin in my long, long list of unforgivable acts.

Sasha sighs. “Sometimes, Merc, things are just unwinnable. You have to accept it like the rest of us little people.”

I shoot her a look.

“Or,” she smiles. “You suck in your pride and take it back.” She squeezes my shoulder one more time. “And then make up for it.”

I look up at her and wonder how to admit I made the wrong choice? Because all her stackable moments add up to this smart, strong, beautiful woman. And if I had left her to fend for herself that night, where would she be now? “It’s unwinnable, I guess.”

“Hey, Merc?”

I stare at her. “What?”

“If you don’t think you did your best you still have time, you know. You’re a genius. Go do something genuine.” And then she walks away and leaves me there.

“When you’ve done all you can, you’ve done your best. No one has a right to ask for more.”

– Sydney

B
rett is sleeping when I let myself into his house and make my way to his room. It’s a nice house, for Cheyenne, anyway. He’s got about fifty acres, which sits idle. Just blah grassland surrounding his home. Not many trees, but there’s a big pond on the property, and that gives it some much-needed character.