Authors: Samantha Towle
I love Craig, like family, but fuck I just want to hit him right now. I feel so angry, so frustrated. I clench my fist under the table.
“Why are you even here?”
I’m picking a fight with him. I know it. I just can’t seem to stop. I feel like I’m being ganged up on here by the two of them. Like I’m some kid that needs setting on the right path.
“I’m here because I’m your friend,” he replies mildly.
“You’re out of line, Nate,” dad throws at me. “Craig’s here more than you are. I needed help on the farm. I needed help with Scarlett. We’d only just buried Sol and you were off searching the world looking for a woman who clearly doesn’t want you!”
Fuck that hurts. I take in a sharp breath.
I hear dad sigh. “Sorry, that was out of line. I didn’t mean that. I know Alex loves you, she would have left if she didn’t.”
He rubs his forehead with his fingers. “I’m just–” Another sigh. “I’m just worried about you, son.”
But that’s the problem. I don’t know if she does love me, or if she ever really did. She wouldn’t have been able to leave if she did – would she? I know I wouldn’t have been able to leave her. No matter what was happening.
I would have given everything up to be with her.
I can’t bring myself to look at dad or Craig. The shame is burning like a fire inside. I pickI’h h my glass up and drain the contents, needed to douse it out.
“You’re driving yourself into the ground, Nate,” dad starts up again. “Don’t tell me you're sleeping because clearly you’re not. You’re drinking far too much.” He points a finger at the empty glass I’ve just lowered to the table. “You’re searching for answers in there that you’re never going to find … you’re back to how you were when you got back from Iraq.”
Right, I’ve definitely had enough now. I back my chair out roughly, slamming it back under the table, grabbing my leather jacket off the back of the chair, I make for the door.
“I can’t lose another child,” he says, low.
I feel sick. My hand is on the door handle, ready to go. I know I should feel guilty for hurting him like this, but I can’t seem to. It’s like my emotions have just stopped working. And then I start to wonder at which exact moment in my life that it was they stopped working, or actually, if I ever had any to begin with.
“You need to find a way to deal with Sol’s death before it kills you too.” He’s standing now, behind me.
I really can’t talk about Sol. Not now. I’m feeling too raw.
Turning angrily, I say, low, “I know he’s dead. I don’t need fucking reminding.”
The raw pain cracks open. It’s like all my pain is gushing out. And I can’t take anymore. It’s like having needles driven into my heart.
He reaches forward, putting his hand on my shoulder. “I’m not trying to hurt you, I just want you to be okay.”
His voice is calm, deep. It reminds me of how he would sound when I was a kid and I’d fallen and hurt myself. But I’m not a kid anymore and I haven’t just fallen over. This pain is deep, and carved into me.
“Yeah, well, I’ll be okay when you all just leave me the fuck alone.” My words are deep with meaning. I push his arm from off me just as Scarlett walks in the kitchen.
“Hey, you're home,” she says sounding surprised, smiling.
“Yeah, and now I’m leaving.” I see the crestfallen look on her face as I turn away, yanking the door open, I slam my way out of the house.
I hear dad come out the door immediately behind me.
“Nate, don’t go. Just stay, talk to me.”
“No. I’ve heard enough for one day.”
“Where are you going?” I can hear the worried tone in his voice. But it just isn’t registering with me at the moment. I just want to get away from him, from Craig. From everything.
“To see my brother.”
I’ve left it far too long already.
*
“Hey kiddo,” I murmur, kneeling down on the cold earth. I trace my finger over the writing on the marble headstone.
Solomon Jacob Hargreaves.
April 4
th
1992 - August 26th 2011
Forever in our hearts and minds.
As my fingers trace the lettering carved deep into the marble, a pain so intense starts to crush me.
This happens every time I think of him. So I rarely let myself. Aside from searching for Alex it’s the other reason why I stay away from home so much, knowing he’s out here, all alone. It’s unbearable.
“I’m sorry it’s been a while since I’ve been to see you. I’m still looking for Alex, like I know you’d want me to.”
I hang my head, feeling ashamed that once again I’ve let him down. “I haven’t found her yet,” I lower my voice. “But I will, real soon. I’ll make sure she’s safe, and I won’t give up until I know she is. I promise you.”
I let out a breath into the cold morning air, rocking back onto my heels.
“I’ve fucked everything up. I wish more than anything it was me down there, not you. I’d trade with you in a second if I could.”
My emotions break through. I pause, pinching the bridge of my nose, swallowing down. “It should never have been you, it should have been me … I let you go there, and I blamed her for losing you when it was my fault … and–” I catch a sob in my throat.
Clenching my fist, I put it to my mouth. “I’m so sorry, Sol. I just don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”
I rest my forehead against the cool headstone as tears I have no control over start to run from my eyes. My heart burning a solid pain in my chest. “I miss you so much. And I know I never said it enough, but I love you, and I would give
anything
to have you back here.”
I stay silent for a moment, almost willing him to speak back to me. Just to hear his voice one last time.
But all I receive back is the painful silence of his loss.
I take a couple of beats to steady my breathing, then I rub at my eyes roughly, removing any evidence of pain. Taking a deep breath, I get to my feet.
“I’ll be back to see you later, kiddo, but for now I’ve got a date with my lady.”
I pat a hand to the headstone and then take off running, heading to the barn, and to the only woman who’s never left me.
And here she is, still right where I left her, and looking as beautiful as ever.
My Ducati.
“Hey baby,” I croon, as I climb on. “You miss me?”
Getting my helmet off the handlebar, I pull it on, turn the engine over and listen as she purrs to life. The feeling calms me somewhat.
“Come on,” I murmur. “Let’s go make some noise.”
And with that I kick the bike stand away and roar off down the track, heading to nowhere in particular.
I had no intention of coming here, until I find myself riding up to the barrier.
Dalby Forest.
I pay the entrance fee and take a slow ride through the quiet forest. I park up at the lake. The one I brought Alex to all those month ago. I haven’t been back here since I came with her that fateful day. Even though she was kidnapped from here, and I had the shit kicked out me, it still is the place where she and I began. The place where I first kissed her.
Dumping my helmet on the bike seat, I walk into the shallow of the lake. The water seeps into my boots, just as I did that day when I was stood in here with her, when I finally let go of holding in my feelings for her. When I realised she felt the same way too. The last time that everything was still okay.
When Sol was still alive. And Cal was still my brother. And Alex was still here, with me.
I let out a sigh into the coming darkness, rubbing my head with my hands.
What the fuck am I doing? Six months looking for Alex and I’m no closer to finding her than I was the day I started. It’s like she’s just disappeared off the face of the planet.
I don’t know where to look anymore. There are no clues. No trace of her anywhere. It’s almost as if she never even existed. I run a hand over my ribs, touching where my tattoo is.
The problem is though, I don’t know how to stop looking. What will happen to me if I do?
I move on with life, like dad stays. But move on to what? There’s nothing left for me anymore. Sol’s gone. Cal and I don’t speak, granted my choice, but really what choice did he leave me with.
I drive my frustrations with fingers into my scalp, scratching over my head.
From the moment that I woke up in that hotel room to find Alex gone, I’ve been consumed with finding her. It’s all I know now. It’s all I have.
I know it was her choice to go, but if I hadn’t said what I said, blaming her for Sol’s death, if I hadn’t treated her the way I did, then maybe she wouldn’t have gone. Maybe she would have stayed. Maybe.
I remember the times I would try to convince myself she’d been snatched by the Originals. It was crazy. I knew she hadn’t. She took money from me. She took the passport and her clothes.
But the reason I did it was because at that point it was easier to believe that, than to believe she’d left after we’d had sex. That she’d left me right after I told her I loved her.
Now, I just try not to think about any of it. I’m just focussing on finding her and bringing her home. The rest can wait for later.
I just … I guess I just feel so angry, all the fucking time. I can feel it scratching under my skin, trying to escape.
I sleep angry. I eat angry. I drink angry.
I feel like I’m going insane.
“FUUUUCK!!” I yell into the night, gripping my head in frustration, kicking into the water around me.
The sound of my anger echoes all around the lake. The only real effect it has is driving a flock of settled birds out from the trees.
And I’m still just left here with my anger ripping pieces off me.
Coming out of the water, I tear my clothes off, and then I’m running, shifting, heading straight into the forest.
I’m out here all day, running and hunting. I fall asleep, waking when the sky is night.
I make my way back to the lake, shifting, just before leaving the safety of the trees. I walk over naked and collect my clothes, which are still lying exactly where I left them. My head’s a little clearer now and I see how stupid and reckless it was of me to shift like I did, here during the day, just leaving my stuff abandoned.
And I know dad will be getting worried about me. He doesn’t deserve this. He’s endured more than anyone ever should have to in his life.
I climb back on my bike and head for home.
When I arrive the house is in darkness, everyone sleeping. Except for dad. I hear the light in his bedroom click off the moment I walk through the front door.
I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Apologise for my behaviour.
I go straight to the kitchen and grab the bottle of Jack I opened earlier, off the worktop. I don’t bother with a glass. Then I head into the living room, peel my T-shirt off, drop it to the floor and sit down in the armchair. I kick my boots off and switch on the TV.
I flick through the channels, there’s some Boxing on. I leave that on. I could really do with watching people beat the shit out of each other right now.
Settling back into the chair, I take a long drink from the bottle. Damn, this stuff is good. It courses through me, just the anaesthetic I need at the moment.
My eyes are heavy. My body is trying to force sleep. But I don’t want to sleep.
I hate sleeping. Every time I shut my eyes all I see behind them is Sol laid in my arms bleeding to his death. And the look on Alex’s face when I told her I blamed her for his death. It’s like those two images have burnt themselves into my retinas and are cursed to stay there for the rest of time.
I take another long swig of whiskey and rest my head back against the chair. I just need to numb the pain, even if for a little while.
So, I take another drink, and another …
I wake with a jolt. It’s a second before I can grasp my bearings.
Someone’s here. Close by the house. Out by the top of the driveway.
Silently, I pick the empty bottle of Jack from off my lap, putting it down to the floor, I quietly get to my feet.
I let my senses go out, trythe ling to get a read on whomever it is that is paying us a very early morning visit. And my heart freezes in my chest.
I’d know that scent anywhere.
Alex.
That’s the way things become clear. All of a sudden. And then you realise how obvious they’ve been all along.
Madeleine L’Engle
Chapter 21: Marked
I let out a long breath into the cold air. Watching as it fogs and then disperses into the night.
I look across the road at the entrance to the driveway. The driveway which will lead me to the farm.
To Nathan.
I know this is the last place I should be, but I couldn’t stop myself from coming. There was no more fighting it. I’ve been looking for a reason to come back here since I left. And Zeff gave me one. Not a rational one I admit. But, a reason, still.
It’s taken a long run, two taxis and an aeroplane to get me here. And now I’m almost within reach of him my feet refuse to work.
I literally can’t move. Like my feet have been superglued to the floor or something.
My mind keeps coming up with reasons why I shouldn’t walk down the driveway and knock on the front door.