Epilogue
Salem
An Important Question
Three Years Later
“G irls, come on! The car is already packed!” I shouted up the stairway, zipping my jacket up over my bike shorts. “Rayne and Loki are going to leave without you!”
Right on cue, a bullhorn sounded from outside the house: “Attention Seahawk and Little Chick: I am leaving in five minutes whether you are in this car or not. Your bike tires are already aired up, so you can bike up the mountain with Salem!”
Roused by the terrible threat of mountain biking, Rachel and Rebecca came sprinting from their rooms, duffel bags in hand and backpacks on.
“Don’t make us bike!” Rachel shrieked dramatically as she ran past me and out the door.
“Noooo!” Rebecca gave an equally dramatic protest as she followed her sister into the front yard. Walking out onto the porch, I smiled as Rayne secured the girls’ bags to the roof of our Jeep, which was laden down with camping gear.
As usual, Rayne had insisted on packing everything herself.
The woman would hardly let me lift a finger since we moved in together.
We were busier now that the girls’ adoption had officially been approved.
But if something needed to be built, repaired, torn down, replaced, cooked, or cleaned, Rayne usually did it before I even realized it needed doing.
I worried she would be overwhelmed, but when I brought it up, she said it was the opposite.
“This is what makes me happy,” she told me. “Taking care of you, taking care of the girls—there’s nothing else I’d rather do.”
No exaggeration, I almost swooned.
With the bags secured, Rayne sauntered up to me on the porch, glanced back to make sure the girls weren’t looking, and slapped my ass.
“You jerk.” I laughed as she held me. “I have to be on a bike seat for the next few hours, remember? Take it easy.”
“Or you could sit in the car and let me drive you to the campsite like a normal person,” she said. “Then I could spank you more.”
“You’d better turn down the horniness, or it’s going to be a very long weekend in a very small tent,” I teased. She rolled her eyes before she kissed me, and it was only a matter of seconds before we heard a long, drawn-out “eeeeewwww, stop kissing!” from the Jeep.
“Your passengers are getting impatient,” I whispered.
I laid my hand against her face, over the scars left behind from where the fire had burned her.
There was a patch of her hair that had never grown back, but she’d never tried to hide the marks left behind.
She had started shaving the side of her head, wearing her long hair up so the scars couldn’t be missed.
“Yeah, well, I might have promised to get them ice cream on the way there,” Rayne said. “I figured we’ll be waiting for you all day anyway, may as well take our time getting there.”
“You guys can still bike with me,” I said, laughing at the horrified protests from the girls. They would happily bike with me on the trails, but riding for hours up a steep incline was a bit more than they were ready to handle.
Rayne said riding a bike made her feel like “Mary fucking Poppins” despite the fact that I couldn’t recall the character ever riding a bike.
“You know, we’ll pass on that.” Rayne kissed my forehead, waving as she backed away toward the Jeep. “I’ll pick up a pint of ice cream for you. Be careful, okay? Call me?”
“I will,” I promised. “I’ll see you in a few hours!”
It had been about six months since we made the move to Colorado. Rayne’s new landscaping company was growing steadily, and she had a handful of regular clients. When she first left Blackridge, she’d been utterly lost as to what to do.
She worked at a coffee shop for about a month, until a customer was rude and she threw a bagel at him. I was a little worried about the fact that her new job gave her constant contact with sharp, pointy gardening tools, but she hadn’t stabbed anyone yet.
She no longer heard the whispers, and neither did I. She’d been scared, when she first left Blackridge, that she would still be haunted, that she couldn’t possibly be free. But days, then weeks, spent on the mainland proved it to her.
All that haunted her now was the trauma of her past, and that was a monster on its own. Therapy was an imperfect solution, given that there were some things she couldn’t share.
Rayne still spoke with some of the folks from Blackridge. Dr. Hale hosted monthly video calls for the survivors, and having that outlet of conversation helped her, even though it wasn’t easy to open up.
Working with the land made her happy, and she was confident in it too.
Our new house’s yard had been nothing more than a weed-infested empty lot when we moved in.
Now, our front yard was full of native species of bushes, grass, and flowers.
Our backyard had been transformed into a garden, and our vegetables were already sprouting.
It made the events of three years ago seem like a distant nightmare.
Distant, but not forgotten.
It had taken a long time for me to feel comfortable going into the woods again. For almost an entire year afterwards, I didn’t even touch my bike, let alone go riding.
But I loved the mountains, the twisting trails, the crisp, fresh air. I loved the birdsong and the wind rustling in the leaves. I loved to remember when those things didn’t carry any anxiety for me, only peace.
The dread crept up in me slowly, once quiet suburbia was behind me and the trees blotted out the sun.
I focused on the subtle burn in my thighs, the cold air in my lungs.
But I was braced for something to happen.
For the birds to stop chirping and the trees to fall silent.
For the cold awareness of being watched to wash over me.
But the feeling remained as only dread, nothing more. I passed other cyclists, cheerful hikers, and early-morning joggers on the trail. People who had no idea what kinds of things lurked beyond the shadows of their imaginations.
About halfway to the campsite, I stopped at a small gas station to stretch and eat my snack. My phone’s signal wasn’t very good, but I was able to call Rayne and update her on my location.
“Thank you for calling, beautiful,” she said, the relief evident in her voice the moment she picked up the phone. “I was thinking of you. You—hey, no, Becca, do not light that match, hold up—”
I laughed at the sound of Rayne’s phone dropping to the ground. She’d broken three screens this year already and swore that if she broke one again, she was trading in her smartphone for a flip phone.
“Sorry.” Rayne was puffing when she got back on the phone. “The girls have been running wild since we got here.”
“Go play, have fun,” I said. “I’m a little more than halfway, I should be there by sunset.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come pick you up? I don’t mind.”
“I’ll be okay. I promise.” She was silent for a beat too long. “I have my bear spray. And I think this is good for me. To do this.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I could imagine her running her fingers through her long hair, circling the camp restlessly and watching the girls like a hawk. “I know you’re right.”
“You can’t worry about me forever, babe.”
“Don’t underestimate me.”
As I smiled, I almost told her to come pick me up after all. “I love you. Give the girls kisses for me. I’ll see you soon.”
Sunset colors were painting the sky by the time I reached the campsite.
I’d intended to hurry, but the last stretch of my ride was a steep incline that slowed me down.
The camp was quiet, with a few other families scattered throughout the trees around their own tents and fires.
I followed the winding path until I reached the site number Rayne had given me.
As I walked my bike around the bend and got my first glimpse of the camp, I halted in shock.
Electric candles and lanterns were everywhere: dangling from the trees, placed on the hood of the Jeep, and forming a meandering path into the camp.
Laying my bike aside, I followed the candles under the trees.
The gargantuan pines’ gnarled boughs swooped over the camp, forming a canopy of branches and leaves.
More lanterns hung from those boughs, swaying slightly in the breeze.
If it weren’t for the familiar Jeep, I would have been convinced I’d walked into the wrong camp. Then I saw Loki lying nearby, the old dog lifting his head and wagging his tail at the sight of me.
“What’s going on here, boy?” I said, squatting down to pet him.
The sound of whispering, childish voices came from nearby, drawing my attention. Suddenly, with hushed giggles, Rebecca and Rachel ran out of hiding to greet me, holding bouquets of flowers that they excitedly thrust into my hands.
“Welcome back, Mama!” Rachel beamed, and I struggled not to let my breath catch. She rarely called me that—and I’d never asked her to—but occasionally it would slip out. Every time, it caused the sweetest ache in my chest.
“We’ve been waiting for you!” Rebecca was jumping up and down, practically bursting at the seams. She’d never been good at keeping secrets, so I couldn’t fathom how I hadn’t heard about whatever this was.
Even though I didn’t know what was happening, a warmth bloomed in my chest when I looked up from the girls and saw Rayne. She was standing in front of the crackling fire, her long hair loose and wild around her face.
Beautiful. How the hell had I gotten so lucky?
“Thanks, girls,” she said softly, and gave them a little nod. They scurried off again, giggling, holding hands as they crawled into the tent and zipped it up.
It was just me and Rayne, surrounded by twinkling lights in the middle of the forest, bathed in the warmth of the fire.
“You must have really missed me today,” I said, but I was too breathless to laugh. She took me in her arms and kissed me slowly. From inside the tent, Lana Del Rey’s “Say Yes to Heaven” began to play.
Her body swayed with mine, a gentle dance in the middle of the forest.
“I did miss you,” she said. “I miss you every second you’re away from me. When I wake up in the morning and get to see your face, I forget every nightmare. You chase all my shadows away.”
Laying my hand against her cheek, I smiled as I kissed her again and said, “What’s got you so romantic tonight?”
She laughed softly. “I was inspired by this gorgeous woman, with a smile like sunshine and a laugh I’ll never get enough of hearing.
A woman who believed in me, and who’s been by my side no matter how damn hard it was.
” She stopped swaying and ran her fingers through my short hair.
“I’m not perfect, I know. I have a long way to go, I have a lot of wounds I still need to heal. But I want you there with me, Salem.”
She was fumbling for something in her pocket. When she got on one knee, I began to sputter in disbelief, and she was laughing when she flipped open a little blue box and held my hand.
“Salem, will you give me the honor of being my wife?” I was nodding before she even got the whole sentence out. “Will you be my forever?”
“Yes! Yes, Rayne, of course, yes!”
She slipped the ring onto my finger, the diamonds glistening in the lantern light. She kissed me, and I pulled her up, arms around her, crying and laughing all at once.
It was only a few seconds before the girls weren’t able to hold in their excitement anymore, and excited squeals came from the tent.
They ran out to us, jumping up and down as they both breathlessly told the same story of keeping the biggest secret ever.
Loki barked and circled us, matching the excitement.
Rayne wiped her eyes quickly, but I caught her hands and stood up on my tiptoes to kiss her again. The girls giggled and ran to get water from the creek for my flower bouquets. When I settled back on my heels, Rayne let the tears fall as she smiled.
I wiped them away and said, “Forever, my love. Always and forever.”
Her arms wrapped around me, and I rested my head on her shoulder. The darkness beyond the camp was growing deeper, and for just a moment—I swore I saw a crimson glow.