29. Colton
TWENTY-NINE
COLTON
I’m not a gambling man. I like a sure thing, else I’m wasting valuable time and precious energy.
But right now, I have to gamble. Because something is at stake either way I go.
Forrest curses to himself as he mounts his horse. His clothes are stained in a merlot, quickly fading to brown.
I bring the back of my fist to my mouth, stifling the bile that threatens to burst free. I know what that is. I wore it on my clothes in that cellar for a month.
Drying blood.
If I show myself now, I’m committing myself to a battle. A gun fight, likely, but a battle. Only one of us will win, and while I know I’d like to believe I’d prevail, I have to think of Carsyn here, too. Even Nash.
I didn’t come here to exact revenge. I came here for answers, and to help those women. And now? I’m here to get my goddamn girl.
So I have to let Forrest ride off, even after what I know he’s done.
I can feel it in my bones. She told me this is what he would do. Hell, even I knew it. I just hoped I could get back in time. Once he’s riding off, I’m sure looking for me, I make a break for it, dashing to the back door.
It’s unlocked, so I push inside, locking it behind me. If he comes back, this is only a small barrier but still, every barrier buys time. And I don’t know what situation I’m in. Murphy is tied off at the tree, where I’ve got ammo and another weapon stashed away, in case.
The house is warm with use, the fridge humming its usual song. I keep my hat on as I move through the small space, turning my torso slightly so as to not knock bills off the counter, or send keys clattering to the floor. I take the stairs two by two, trying to convince myself that I am calm.
But behind my ribs, my heart is so fired up, thudding frantically. I can’t deny the hiccup in my breath as I come to her door. I push it open, and find her comforter crumpled on the floor, torn panties right on top, as if he knew I’d come here.
He knew what I’d see.
Crimson appears almost artfully on the bedsheets, some of it in heavy, thick smears and others dots and drips. He beat her here, and I know what else. The what else makes me want to murder him, pulling him limb by limb, piece by piece, until he’s nothing more than gross parts in a bloodied heap.
Focus , I tell myself, sucking in air through my nose as my eyes stumble upon something that knocks the wind from me.
The promise ring. With the chain next to it, broken.
I push every single door in that house open, going through bedrooms and closets until all that’s left is downstairs. I move through the office, noticing some things are gone but not caring. The women are free, they are safe. Nothing in this house no longer matters except her.
The mudroom is empty. The kitchen is empty.
My eyes come to the cellar door, and the hairs on my neck rise with a sick sense of foreboding.
I push it open, and a trail of blood leads me down the stairs. In the bed I laid in for what I now know was thirty-seven days , Kinleigh lays, her cheek on the pillow, facing the wall. I don’t waste a moment to see if her back is moving. There is nothing poetic in a moment so profound, when you learn if the only person you love is either dead or alive.
Slowly, I turn her onto her back, revealing her face covered with an ombre of purples, blending seamlessly into somber blues and watery reds. One of her eyes is swollen shut, so puffy that her eyelid turns out at the curve. My chest hollows achingly as I gasp, forcing myself to breathe. I move my hands over the torn terrain of her beauty, slowly taking in each slice, every jab.
I will heal her. I will fix this. I will make her better. It’s going to be okay.
“Kinney, baby,” I whisper, dusting my lips along her ear. My hat gets knocked off my head, and I don’t go for it. Pain leaks from my eyes down onto her cheek, and my greatest fear seems to be realized as Kinleigh remains motionless beneath me.
I hear her voice in my mind, the way it sounded when we were kids. Soft and gentle, but amused and playful. “ You just get me .”
She’d always say that, and it sounded so funny to me, for her to be saying something so grown up while sounding like a sweet little girl.
No .
This is not how it ends.
This is not fucking it.
“No,” I say, tears smearing against my hand as I swipe beneath my nose. Carefully, I slide my arms under her, making the unsettling and horrifying discovery that she’s lying in blood. I want to tear off her clothes and hunt for the source, but I can’t . We can’t stay here.
If he comes back, I’ll have to waste precious time fighting him when I should be saving her.
I will save her.
This is not it.
“No, Kinney. You’re not dead. You aren’t.” I hoist her up, finding her so light that a wave of crippling nausea hits me. I wonder if she ever starved, I wonder what depths of hell she’s been forced to explore. Forced to exist in . I cradle her against me, one arm beneath the underside of her knees, one at her upper back.
I walk calmly up the stairs, dropping promises and kisses over the top of her head. “I’m gonna get you home, baby,” I tell her, though it doesn’t sound like me. The voice I hear is hoarse and groggy, wavering with emotion. That’s not me.
Is it?
“Home is my folks’ place for now, but we’ll get our own place real soon, okay?” I kiss her head again, and cross the kitchen to the back door. With her cradled to my chest, I struggle with the door, finally using my body weight to pop it open. Stepping over the threshold, the fresh air stings my senses, giving me a needed jolt of adrenaline.
We’re outside.
We’re getting closer to safety. It’s going to be okay.
“We’re almost home, Kinney. Hang on. I need you to fight one last time and hang on for me, okay?” My shirt warms and I know it’s her blood soaking through.
It’s fine . It’s going to be okay.
I swallow, my ears throbbing. Spotting Murphy, I walk a bit faster, tugging Kinleigh tighter to my chest. I can’t put her on her feet, and we’re in the middle of a barren pasture. I’ll need to mount Murphy with her in my arms, and considering the amount of damage I’m still recovering from, I worry I can’t do it.
Murphy, however, is well-trained. Carsyn has been training all of Dad’s horses since we were little. Just like Kinleigh did for Forrest. “You’re going to love Carsyn,” I tell Kinleigh as I approach Murphy.
She hasn’t done this for me in a long time because I haven’t been around in years. In fact, the last time I visited, I couldn’t get her to do it at all. With Kinleigh in my arms, I stand in front of her and take a moment to talk to God.
Let her remember. Let her remember and I will do the rest.
She shakes her head, letting out a snort I recognize. A snort that says shit or get off the pot.
“Kneel,” I say, wasting no more time. “Murph,” I say her name slowly, loudly, because I am trying not to lose my fucking mind right now. My heart is racing. “ Kneel .”
I will thank God at the foot of my bed with steepled hands for the rest of my life.
She kneels, and as carefully as I can, I get on my animal with my woman in my arms. When she rises, I take a moment to position Kinleigh’s ass on the saddle between my legs. I’m still holding her back, but now her legs are draped by mine, and I can hold Murphy’s reins. I kiss her head again, a terrible, awful, sickening feeling slowly worming its way from my toes upward.
I refuse to believe she is dead.
I will save her. I came back for her. She freed those women. She saved them.
“Murph, we’re going slow, aren’t we?” I snap the rein gently, and she begins a steady pace toward my father’s house, nearly two miles away. “It won’t be long now, sweetheart,” I assure Kinleigh, pressing my lips to her head. “I came back for you, and you’re going to be fine. We’re going to fix you up,” I tell her, willing the house to move nearer, for time to go both slower and faster, in case this is the end and in case it isn’t.
We ride for a few more minutes, but she doesn't move.
Not even a little.
I take a breath, and do what I know needs to be done. I have to keep talking to her, no matter how hard.
“Kinleigh, I love you so much. I can’t imagine my life without you in it anymore. Coming back was the best thing that has happened to me in years, and I’d live in the cellar my whole life if it meant having even only a single percent of you.” I swallow around the emotion in my throat, kissing her head again, not taking my eyes off the horizon. “But you gotta live, baby. You gotta keep breathing, keep fighting. Because I want to marry you. I want to lie in bed with you when the sun is down, I want your arms around my waist while I’m pouring us coffee, I want my babies in your belly, I want your lips on my neck, I want our wedding and our vacations. I need you for that, Kinney.” I nearly choke on my sob. “I need you for all that.”
I think I see the house up ahead, still so far off it’s only a dot, but that dot gives me some hope.
Carsyn, Nash and Liam are there, and they’ll help. We’ll help her.
She hasn’t moved at all.
“You are going to be fine,” I breathe, the night sky cold against my wet cheeks.
My face falls as I think about what I’m saying. There’s so much blood. The blood on his clothes was dark.
She’s needed me for hours.
I hold her to me, my entire body slowly trembling, and I think it’s from the inside out. My heart is shattering so violently that it’s shaking me to the core.
I don’t say anything for a few minutes, trying to commit it to memory; the weight of her in my arms, the crisp breeze sifting through my hair. My hat is gone, I realize now, and the wind against my face triggers a rush of emotions, one that I hold back.
I won’t break with her in my arms. I owe it to her to stay strong.
Murphy slows down some, though we aren’t far off from the house now. It’s like she knows we’re home, and knows what I’m avoiding.
I take in a breath, challenging myself to steal one more glance at her while it’s just the two of us and open skies, the place where we used to flourish.
But now it’s the place I tell her I’m sorry.
The place where I tell her I failed her.
And where I say goodbye.
When I gather the courage, I finally look down, and a strangled cry flies from me, loud and sharp, a noise I’ve never made before.
Kinleigh is blinking up at me, her bloodstained lips curled into a tiny smile. “You saved me,” she whispers, her voice so quiet that I don’t even think I hear it as much as I read the words straight from her lips.
Heavy shudders rack my chest. My breathing is unpredictable, coming in short, quick bursts through both my mouth and nose all at once. My vision blurs. My cheeks grow hot. Murphy comes to a stop, and I don’t know if it’s intuition or if it’s because we’re home but I don’t look away.
I don’t look away from the best thing I’ve ever seen.
“Oh my God,” I finally manage, my words shattering as they slip out of me. “I love you,” I tell her right away, because she has to know. “Oh my God, Kinney, I love you so much.” I pull her toward me. “Thank you for living. Thank you for fighting.”
Fatigue eats at her features, her body still heavily traumatized and needing care. “Kneel,” I call to the horse, keeping my eyes fixed on Kin. She lowers obediently, and I am truly grateful for her on this journey. I tell Kin the plan. “There’s an EMT inside my house right now, sweetheart, so don’t worry, okay? We’re gonna fix you up. I promise.”
She nods, her slender hand gripping tight to my shirt. Her hand is bruised badly, as well as her wrist. “I’m going to take care of you now, baby,” I tell her.
No, I don’t just tell her.
I vow.