Chapter 42
Kit
We rejoined everyone as Warren and his family were getting ready to leave. I’d done what I could to fix my mussed hair on the walk back from the barn, but Sayla still gave us a knowing smirk when her mother’s back was turned.
I’d never seen Penny blush that shade of red before.
After the house emptied, Amelina bid everyone goodnight and retreated to her room. And before Sayla could comment on our crooked shirts and the hay stuck to our trousers, Penny said a hasty goodnight of his own and dragged me off to our room.
He didn’t release me until we’d tumbled into bed. I braced on my arms so I wouldn’t flatten him to the mattress, and he grinned.
“Always afraid of crushing me, you silly man.” He tugged on my hips. “I don’t mind.”
The lump in my throat choked any response I might have given. Instead, I lowered myself so I could rest my cheek on his chest and tuck my head beneath his chin. He gave a contented sigh and looped his arms around my back.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” he said through a yawn. “We shouldn’t sleep in our clothes.”
When I leaned up on one elbow a few minutes later, he was asleep.
A smile tipped my lips as I levered myself out of bed just long enough to ease Penny’s socks and trousers off and tug the blankets up over him. Then I climbed back in and stretched out beside him with my head pillowed on his shoulder.
My thoughts chased endless circles until I was sure I’d go mad with them.
There were so many things that I wanted, but I couldn’t have them all.
I had to choose. None of the options available to me would leave everyone unscathed.
But the more I thought, the surer I was that there was really only one choice.
I was going to have to hurt us both.
I waited for Sayla to join her mother in the other bedroom, and then lay in the quiet for several hours listening to Penny’s heartbeat. As tired as I was, sleep remained out of reach. There was too much to do, and it couldn’t wait until morning.
Eventually, I peeled away from Penny and pulled myself out of bed.
I tucked him in a little tighter, straightened my shirt and smoothed my hair again, then opened the top dresser drawer.
It only took a few minutes to pack my things and set my bag by the door.
But I quickly found that resolving to leave and actually leaving were two very different things.
I stood at the bedside far longer than I should have, watching Penny’s chest rise and fall, memorizing the way the moonlight cast half his face in shadow. He shifted in his sleep, making a lock of hair brush across his cheek.
When I tucked it behind his ear, my fingers lingered, curled in the straw-blond strands for several moments more.
The longer I delayed, the more chance there was of Penny waking and putting a stop to things, so let go of his hair and stepped back. Already my heart was aching.
It would only get worse.
Penny’s sketchbook laid on the bedside table, and I flipped it open to a blank page and plucked his pencil from where it threatened to roll onto the floor. I didn’t know what to say, but I couldn’t leave without word. As the minutes dragged on, I scribbled down the best I could manage:
I’m sorry. I’ll come back, but I need you to be safe. Please stay. I love you, and I hope you can forgive me for this when it’s all over.
It was a promise, but what if I couldn’t keep it?
Penny’s concerns that I might die in Ashpoint weren’t exactly unfounded. That I might not make it through this alive was a risk I’d accepted at the beginning, but now the thought of sacrificing the life and love I had with Penny was almost unbearable.
If I left him here then didn’t live through dismantling the Bone Men, he would languish waiting in vain, and that hurt.
How long would he wait before he gave up?
Six months? A year? Two? I wasn’t sure if it was worse to think of him growing old worrying about me, or eventually moving on with another man.
One way or another, I would survive.
I would come back.
There was no other option.
Setting the pencil in the crease of the spine, I left the sketchbook open and returned to my bag at the door. One last lingering look back was all I allowed myself before I slipped out of the room.
I stepped into my boots and grabbed my cloak from the hook by the back door, then ventured out into the warm night.
Every step on my way to the barn to retrieve a bridle and harness felt like torture, but I persisted.
By the time I got the horse from the pasture, my hands were shaking and I was fighting the desire to go back to bed and pretend I’d never even considered this.
While I harnessed the horse, my thoughts clamored louder as new worries crept in. Surviving Ashpoint and finishing what I started did not mean I would return here to open arms. I promised Penny I’d never leave him, and yet I was leaving anyway.
I was doing the one thing he’d begged me not to do. How could he trust me again after this? Whatever happiness he’d found with me might not be enough to salve such a blatant betrayal. He might decide I wasn’t worth the pain or the waiting and take Dawson up on his offer to reconnect.
The thought made my stomach churn.
Dawson was an ass. I was the one Penny loved. I was the one he wanted to marry in front of a backdrop of sunflowers. He might spend the next few months angry at me for leaving, but he would eventually understand that it was the only way to keep him safe.
I dumped my bag into the bed of the cart and led the horse out to the lane before climbing onto the driver’s bench. I sat there for several minutes until I plucked up the nerve to click my tongue and goad the mare into motion.
When I made it out to the main road, I turned toward the distant Shattered Peaks. I didn’t get more than a few paces before yanking the horse to a stop. My chest tightened as my vision narrowed, then blurred through a film of tears.
What was I doing?
Behind me, Eastcliff remained dark and quiet.
I could go back.
I could stay.
I could leave Ashpoint in my past where maybe it always should have remained.
I could wash my hands of it all, and then take Penny to my real home in Forstford.
We’d done plenty by setting the wheels in motion, hadn’t we?
It may have been the worst decision I’d ever made, but I couldn’t stop now. Penny would never leave Ashpoint behind. He wouldn’t abandon our resistance—our friends—without help.
Neither could I.
The balmy night air somehow felt suffocating as I urged the horse into motion again. I wondered if this was how Penny felt when the weather was foul. I hunched in my seat, gasping for breath while my head grew lighter and lighter.
It was my fault he was damaged. I’d give anything to make him well again but, barring that, I’d leave him here where he couldn’t be harmed any further.
The looped reins slipped in my sweat-damp hands, and I gripped them tighter until the leather pinched my fingers.
That tiny spark of pain built a dam before the anxious thoughts rushing through my head.
My ragged breathing deepened, my thundering heart slowed, and my vision slowly returned to normal.
As the horse plodded on, the first of many tears fell.
I had days to reacquaint myself with quiet, with solitude. I’d excelled at it once. Surely, I could do it again.
But that was before Penny. It felt like a lifetime ago. And I wasn’t the same man anymore.