Blackbird (Redemption 1)

I showered slowly and dried my hair the same. I wasn’t in a hurry to spend the day in my room, and there was no way I could spend the day with Lucas while he acted indifferent, like nothing had ever happened.

After finding my comfiest clothes, I walked into my room and slowed to a stop when I saw what was on my bed. I glanced over to my shut bedroom door then hesitantly walked over to the bed to pick up the papers and a thick envelope underneath them.

The first was a printed itinerary with my name at the top. My eyebrows rose as I wondered if this was how things would be now, but then I paused and started from the top again, sure I had gotten it wrong when I saw two key words . . .

Atlanta, Georgia.

“Oh my God,” I said on a breath. It was an itinerary for a one-way flight to Georgia. The flight was circled with Lucas’s scrawl next to it: Tonight! Below, was a number for a cab.

I flipped to the next page, and my heart dropped to my stomach when I saw the two hand-written pages. I barely noticed myself sink to the floor.

My blackbird,

I don’t know how to do this at all, but I know I can’t do it looking into your broken eyes. While I watched you sleep this morning, I thought of a life without you, and knew I would rather welcome death than go through one, but I can’t continue to force you to live this way.

You said your wings were broken without me near . . . if you stayed, one day you would realize that your wings are broken because I’m near. And watching them break over and over again because of something I do or say . . . I wish you knew how many times I’ve wanted to tear out my own heart.

You were never meant for this life. I mean that literally. I should have never looked you up. Never. I expected you to lie and say things about people coming to look for you, but when I saw the tan line on your finger and remembered the engagement ring you’d asked about, I wondered if you hadn’t been lying—and that wouldn’t have

matched the girl the sellers had supposedly taken. The type of girls they always take. So I looked up your name.

From what I’ve pieced together, you covered a shift at work for the girl who was supposed to be taken.

I became obsessed with knowing what the updates were on your case, and that included checking his social media. I’m sorry for keeping it from you, but I was worried about what it would do to us if you knew.

I could force you to stay here forever—I’m supposed to—and I know we could be happy. Incredibly, if the past couple months are any indication. But a part of you would always hate me, Briar. Always. I can’t give you everything you want, and eventually we both know there will come a time when I would break your wings all over again, and I don’t think I can watch that happen again.

It’s obvious he’s still waiting for you, and like you said, you still love him.

Go. Run, Briar.

I promise not to chase you.

Your devil.

I choked on a sob and pressed my fist over my mouth, trying to force my tears back, but they poured from me as if my greatest love had just been torn from my life. Looking at the envelope, I saw it was full of money, and I wished Lucas was there so I could throw it in his face.

I hated him. I hated him for doing this to me. Why couldn’t he see what he meant to me? Why couldn’t he be the man who wouldn’t shut down at the mention of me loving him too? And why would he give me this ticket after today—the hardest day I’d had in over a month?

Grabbing the papers and envelope, I went through the upper level and down to the street level, my steps slowing as I did. It still felt odd to be down there. Lucas never had said I could be there, or that he trusted me . . . there’d just been last night and then this morning—and then I’d been thrown in the starter room.

I went through every room looking for him in the off chance he had stayed, and finally went into his office. It was empty, but the large computer was a glaring reminder of what had happened, of what had stolen our moment of happiness.

I walked slowly to it and sat down in the chair, and stared at the black screen as minutes came and went before grabbing the mouse and moving it to bring the screen to life.

My shoulders sagged when it asked for a password, and I realized I didn’t know Lucas nearly enough to guess at one. A life kept secret from the world. A mentor who had shaped and molded Lucas into the devil. Work. I didn’t know if he had any friends, but it wasn’t likely. I only knew about us, and that made me feel very foolish. He had to have a life outside of this house.

But I still leaned forward and typed devil, then Briar, and then finally blackbird.

In awe that his password was about me, I forgot to get excited over the fact that I had actually figured out the password. I immediately pulled up the Internet and typed in Facebook. Lucas had logged out, but his password was saved so it was easy to log back in.

I didn’t think it would be a good idea to log into mine.

I went to Kyle’s profile to look at the picture of the sign he was holding but was sidetracked when I saw a link for a news update. I scrolled down to see that most of his posts were about that, and wondered briefly if that was why Lucas used Kyle’s profile, but soon my mind was consumed with the disappearance of a girl I was struggling to have a connection with.

For the next hour and a half I searched through news articles until I realized I was reading the same thing over and over again, and then I went back to Kyle’s profile . . . then mine. Looking at the old pictures and seeing posts from friends made the ache in my chest grow and my eyes water more than once, but I never thought about the plane ticket.

I just thought about Lucas’s letter and Jenna.