She snaps her arm away and turns so her back is to me. “You didn’t believe me when I told you there is no way out. He knows everything. I’ve watched for years how he works. I know you think I’m weak and scared. You thought that because you are stronger than me you could outsmart him.” She spins her face to glare at me. “You were wrong! If you had just listened, those people would still be alive. My cat would still be here with me!”
“Hate me if it takes away your pain,” I say. “Blame me. Crucify me in all ways. I’d prefer anything else but to know you hurt.”
“I don’t hate you,” she says softly between sniffles. “I just feel so… lost. I feel like I’m sinking and drowning in a hole of despair. I wish Papa Rich would have just pushed me in the pit. I’m so tired. So tired.”
I inch to her and take her into my arms from behind. She tenses but doesn’t push me away. “I love you, Ember. I love you and wish I had no part in causing you this misery.”
She slowly turns her head to look at me with red-rimmed eyes, wipes at her nose, and asks, “You love me?”
I pull her close. “I do. I love you and will do whatever I can to make sure this never happens to you again.”
She begins to cry again, harder. “There’s nothing you can do. This is our forever, Christopher. Fake happiness, false hope, and nothing but dark and evil. I lied to you when I told you that you could borrow from my happiness. I never had any. I know only sadness and loneliness. I’m a liar. I’m a liar and God finally punished me today. This is all my fault.”
“No, Ember.” I stroke her hair and squeeze her to me. “There’s one person to blame, and he’ll pay someday. He’ll pay.”
“Face reality, Christopher. Trust me. It’s the only way.”
Broken.
My captured bride now finally reveals just how shackled she is.
“I’ll save us. I will.”
I lower her down to the bed and hold her close as she cries herself to sleep.
Closing my eyes, I see the couple.
Haunted. I will forever be haunted.
22
Christopher
I wake to Ember holding my foot as she examines it. She notices I’m awake and says, “We need to get these cuts cleaned up. I’m worried they’ll get infected. We shouldn’t have gone to sleep with them like this.” She furrows her brow and looks at the bed. “We got blood and dirt on our bedding. I’ll have to do the wash today.”
If it weren’t for her puffy and blood-shot eyes, I wouldn’t know she had nearly died of a broken heart last night. She almost seems like my normal Ember again.
I sit up and cup her cheek. “I’m not worried about my feet. I’m worried about you.”
She gently pulls away from my touch. “I’m fine. I’m not the one with gashes on my feet.”
She reminds me of my mother right now. When my father died, my mother gave herself a mere twenty-four hours to mourn and cry, and then it was as if she locked all the emotions inside, never to reveal where the key was. No mention of my father again, all pictures and memories stored away, clothing boxed and donated. She simply wiped him away. Not a single tear was shed again.
Survival.
Ember knows how to survive.
No time for tears in survival.
Knowing that Ember will not be happy until she can tend to my feet, I hobble over to the pitcher of water by the wood stove.
“We’ll wash it up first. But I may need to go to the main house to get antiseptic and bandages.” She begins to wipe at my feet and focuses on her mission. “Yes, we need to get to the main house. I can’t clean these enough with what I have here.”
I consider asking her if she’s okay but see that she doesn’t want to relive yesterday. She’s moving forward as if nothing horrific happened, and I need to allow it. I need to allow her to cope with tragedy however she does. Clearly, she is an expert at it.
Instead, I need to focus on what happens next for us.
We need a plan.
I don’t think going back to the main house is a good idea. I don’t want to face Richard yet, and I don’t think Ember should either. The homicidal thoughts in me are strong, and I’m not sure I’d be rational when facing the man so soon after his monstrous acts. But I also know that is where the food is. I’m also half expecting for him to arrive today and force us back into the cellar.
He should.
He should expect that I will only try to escape again with more vengeance.
The only lesson he has taught me is that I need to get out of here now. There is never going to be the right time. He’s a smart man who I didn’t give enough credit to. I thought I could outwit him, but now… I know I have to just force the hand. I have to make the escape happen at whatever cost.