Dark Child (Wild Men 5)

Looking at the faces of his family around me, I think I can safely report I’m not the only one feeling that way.

“Cos, come here,” he rasps, even though he’s just drunk a glass of water, and lifts his arm for me to snuggle against him. He tucks me into his side so that my cheek is pressed to his chest.

He seems to like having me close when he’s reliving those awful memories, and who am I to deny him? I crave his closeness, and am glad to help in this small way, even if it’s the only help I can give him.

What I want is to wrap myself around his body, like a vine, protect him from any enemy. But how can I, when it seems the enemy is his own mind?

His memories.

Which he’s now laying bare, peeling off the layers of dreams and fear.

“I’d fallen in the water in my rush to get away from the body,” he says, and I hear his voice roll through his chest like distant thunder. “I was fucking terrified. She was all wrong, so still, eyes wide open, mouth open, all that blood.” I hug him more tightly, and he pets my hair. His heart is thumping so fast under my ear. “When he came back for her, because that’s what I’d missed, of course. He’d dumped her there, for whatever reason, then came back for her, and I just tried to crawl into the reeds, to hide better.”

“And you saw him drag the body away.”

“I saw that, yeah. I remember staring, trying to understand what was going on. I’m actually not sure I saw a shovel, or anything else. Because…” He swallows hard, his pulse accelerating. He lifts his arm, stares at the old scar there. “I lost my footing and fell into the stream.”

“Goddammit, Merc.” Matt drags his wife against him, puts his arm around her, and it’s only then I realize she’s gone pale. “This is like a horror film.”

“What happened then?” Gigi is leaning forward in her seat, holding her mother’s hand.

Oh God, I’m so sorry their mom has to hear this. She’s gripping her daughter’s hand like a lifeline. Her boyfriend isn’t here today, no idea why.

“I think I was washed downstream. I have this sensation of drowning and panic.”

My hold on him becomes frantic. If his family weren’t here, I’d climb on top of the bed, sit on his lap and fold around him like an octopus. The thought of little Merc almost drowning in the river, all alone, has me all twisted up inside.

“I made it out, obviously.” Merc drops a kiss on top of my head. “I’m here. Okay, Mom? I’m here.”

But she looks stricken. “Oh Lord,” she whispers and wipes at her eyes.

“Mom, do you want to go out?” Gigi asks, though it’s obvious she wants to stay and hear everything Merc has to say.

But Maggie shakes her head. “I’m staying.”

“It’s all my fault,” Gigi whispers.

“No, no.” Her mom squeezes her hand. “You were just a tiny thing, barely older than him. It’s my fault. I should never have left you two alone, even for an hour, with that neighbor.”

Gigi turns and wraps her arms around her mom, and this reunion has turned as much into a family healing session as a telling of what happened to a little boy many years ago.

Which is cool, though my focus is on Merc, the rest background noise. I’m both dying to know what happened next in his tale and dread it. It’s one thing to drown in a suspenseful story, and quite another to know it happened to someone you love.

“So you got out okay?” Octavia says, with some effort, it seems. She’s holding on to Matt, as if for dear life. I get a feeling she feels as responsible for what happened to Merc as Gigi and their mom. “You must have been so cold.”

“I remember crawling out onto the bank, and there was a house. The stream didn’t take me very far. It’s very shallow.” His hand resumes stroking my hair. “There was a house, and I saw the ax.”

I press my face to the soft cotton of his T-shirt.

“Where was it? Why did you notice it?” This is Jarett who’s sitting next to Gigi and looks absolutely absorbed by the narrative.

“The ax was propped on a tree log. Then that guy came out, grabbed it, and then saw me. The guy who was bent over the body earlier.”

“Oh boy, Merc. Are you making this up to scare us?” Gigi mutters.

He shrugs. “You wanted to know what happened after.”

“Good God,” Octavia says. “Mary and Baby Jesus.”