Jace doesn’t need me interfering in her life again, holding her back even in death. I need to get back to my old man’s house, the same sorry tale I told myself when I left before, and return to haunting the rest of his miserable existence. I’m better off forgetting I saw her, and she’s better off too. The lie wormsits way into my mind, plaguing me with ‘what-ifs’. What if she wakes up? Worse, what if she wakes up, sees me, and then decides she wants nothing to do with me? What if she can’t see me at all?
I press my hand to the window, taking in the sight of her one more time. Where the glass should feel cold, I only feel the gentle tingling pressure of solid matter against my ghastly hand. The idea of leaving her again suffocates me, but I force myself to turn away. Trudging back across the pasture, I turn my head over my shoulder and almost turn back.
Tomorrow. I can come back tomorrow, just to check on her. If she’s not still here, I’ll sit with my choice. Either way, I have to try. I have to see if those wide eyes are filled with the same sadness, or if a new day brings some relief.
“Goodnight, Little Doe,” I whisper into the darkness. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”
5
JACE
1 YEAR AGO
Rays of sunlight strike my eyelids. I groan, stretching my aching limbs, unsure how long I’ve been in bed. My stiff body screams, telling me it’s been too long since I last moved. Brig squirms beside me, pressing his warm torso into mine and providing the only comfort I have left in my sea of despair. My face is puffy and my eyes are almost swollen shut, tears still falling from the remnants of a nightmare floating through my thoughts. Even in my dreams, I can’t escape the loneliness, screaming out into the darkness to someone who won’t respond to my call. The warm rivers of salt run down my cheeks until they pool onto the pillow, leaving a wet puddle against my face.
An abrupt knock on my bedroom door pulls my attention away from the murkiness of my mind. I go rigid, holding my breath and waiting for someone to come in and find me as a crumpled mess on this bed. Whoever it is will surely voice their displeasure at what I should be doing instead. The door creaks open, my pop’s head appearing through the opening. His expression is grim, his lips forming a tight line across his face.I’m sure he’s tired from his previous attempts to fix a situation he can’t understand, just as tired as I am from living through it.
“Jace, you gonna git up today?” he grumbles, trying but failing to keep annoyance out of his tone.
Brig’s head lifts at the sound of Pop’s voice, his tail beating excitedly against the bed. At least someone’s happy to see him. I love my pop, I really do, but feelings aren’t his strong suit. I don’t need another one of his lectures, preferring to be alone to rot and let my emotions consume me until there’s nothing left. I tried to lock the door once when I first came home, only to wake up and find the lock removed the next day.
I hoist myself off the bed, resting on my elbows and trying not to cringe as my muscles protest the movement. Brig leaps to the floor, the jostle making me wince. He runs to sit at my pop’s feet, looking up at him expectantly. Pop rubs his ear, but the action seems distant, like he’s only trying to do something with his hands while he waits for my response.
We stare at each other in silence until I finally fold, giving an exasperated exhale as I fully sit upright. He doesn’t want to hear the truth, and he doesn’t need to. The evidence of the shell I’ve become is right in front of him.
“What am I getting up for?” I answer, giving a question to his question. I don’t have the energy to lie, or the will to risk being honest and listen to his contempt masked as concern.
His weight shifts between his feet before he settles himself against the door frame. Brig pushes through the newly opened space between him and the door, bolting from the room. Pop looks after him, likely wishing he could follow. He returns his focus to me, clearing his throat. “I needa take ya with me to the Gibson place today. Elias has a new fence line goin’ in, and he could use an extra set’a hands.”
The mention of Cyrus’ last name makes my heart sink. Why would he think taking me to my ex’s house would be a goodmove for my mental wellbeing? I hang my head, groaning more dramatically than necessary and rubbing my hands over my face. Even if Cyrus’ dad wasn’t involved, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do less right now than help two grumpy old men do manual labor. What if Cyrus is there? What would I even say?
Maybe getting out of this room is what I need? Fresh air couldn’t hurt at this point. At the very least, it will be a decent distraction for the next few hours—if I can get out of my head. I convince myself if I happen to catch a glimpse of Cyrus, at least I’ll know he’s okay, that he’s still alive.
“Fine,” I croak reluctantly. “Does Mama know?”
His eyes narrow, his jaw clenching. I brace myself for an outburst, but he just shakes his head. The action silently tells me everything I need to know. He didn’t tell her, and he doesn’t mean to either.
“Get yer boots on and meet me at the truck,” he barks and then quickly heads down the hall before I have a chance to change my mind.
The frigid airstings my lungs with every labored breath. I try to break through the rough soil, already beginning to freeze. Even with my gloves on, my hands stiffen from the cold, making it hard to grip the shovel. I hit another rock, sending harsh vibrations shooting up my sore arms. If my limbs fall off, at least I’ll have something new to be upset about.
“Remind me again, why are we putting in a fence at the start of winter?” I complain mostly to myself, but loud enough for them to hear. I don’t expect either of them to answer me, so Elias catches me off guard when he chuckles. I pause my digging to stare at him questioningly.
“Time to rotate tha hogs, darlin’,” he spits out between raspy bursts of laughter. His mocking tone and the use of ‘darlin’ churn my stomach, hitting me with a wave of nausea. I re-adjust my grip on the shovel to keep from dropping it. “I already put in a fence post or two last night, but I could use a little help with tha rest.”
“Why didn’t Cyrus help you?” I blurt, regretting it instantly. My pop stares daggers at me, a look I’m no stranger to, in an unspoken demand for me not to embarrass him. Both men remain silent, neither offering to answer. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, chewing on it to keep more words from flying out. As torn about seeing Cyrus as I am, it’s still strange he’s not here helping. I give Elias a curt nod, the tension between us growing uncomfortable. Both men shake their heads, moving a few paces away.
I huff, turning my focus back to dislodging the rock obstructing my hole. While I continue to struggle, their whispers distract me. I keep my head down, sneaking a glance at them while pretending to casually pick away at the dirt.
“Think she has any idea?” Elias asks my pop under his breath. “She not know she ain’t never gonna see that boy again?” He wipes the sweat from his brow, tossing his head in my direction. I quickly avert my eyes before he notices I’ve been listening, straining the muscles in my neck to keep my head from popping up and giving me away. Hot tears bubble in the corners of my eyes. I silently plead for them not to fall. Whatever I’ve done to warrant Cyrus completely wiping me from his life remains a mystery to me.
“She doesn’t need to know,” my pop murmurs, annoyed and throwing one hand up as Elias starts talking again. “Just let it be, Elias. In time, she’ll forget all about ‘im.”
Ah,time, the great healer of all things. If we just give ourselves more time, everything will work out on its own.My eyes wander, desperate for something to say to interrupt them and change the subject. A burlap sack next to the hole Elias is working on catches my attention. The bag is full of a beige, almost yellowish, substance, which looks suspiciously like fragments of bone. My stomach heaves. I probably don’t want to know the answer, but I ask anyway. “What’s in the bag?”
Elias looks down at it and then at me, a wide grin spreading across his face. He bends down to grab a handful, mixing it around with a sickening crunch. “Don’t you worry about that, girl.” My head snaps back to my task, sorry I even dared to ask, but Elias continues, “Just an old farmer’s secret. Keeps them boogers away.”
Bile rises in my throat, but I force my face to crinkle in disgust. Instead, I roll my eyes, striking my shovel on the ground. Hopefully, it’s enough of a hint I’ve heard enough. The shovel wavers beneath me, catching me by surprise. I stumble backward as the stubborn rock breaks loose, flinging it behind me. I’m ready to be done with whatever it is we’re actually doing out here. The rock lands dangerously close to Elias with a loud thud.
