Sara Jane

My eyes fly open, my heart thudding in my chest.

Another night.

Another nightmare.

I sit up, sweating, and push the covers from body, needing the cooler air to comfort me. The dream is visceral, my arms empty from the baby I’ll never hold. The vision of Alexander in agony pins me to the spot.

His pain.

I can’t take his pain.

I’m so sorry.

When the first tear falls, I move into the bathroom and lean my hands on the counter, not able to look myself in the mirror. I don’t want to see the effects of the pain I’ve caused, digging into my features. I just want to wake up from the nightmare I’ve been living.

I splash some cold water on my face and pat it dry.

Alexander.

Tossing the towel, I run back into the bedroom and look at the time. 3:32 a.m.

Why is he not here? “Damn it.” I’m going stir-crazy, waiting for his return. Grabbing my robe, I fling it around my shoulders, tuck my phone in the pocket, and leave the room. Maybe there’s some wine in the fridge.

The manor is quiet as I walk down the hall and descend the stairs. But a creak in the wood behind me makes me stop and look back. “Hello?”

Thank God no one answers or I might jump a mile. I turn back—ACK! My scream bounces around the room as I come face to face with April. “You scared me.”

“Good,” she replies, her voice somber, her eyes as soulless as her heart.

I take a step back, gripping my robe closed at the neck. “Are you okay?” She doesn’t look okay. The dark circles under her eyes have hollowed, and her lips appear parched. Such a contrast to the made-up socialite from earlier.

“You remind me of her.”

“Who?”

She takes a step closer and I take another step back. “Who, April? Who do I remind you of?”

“His wife.”

My mind stumbles in the dark of the room, trying to grasp something to hold on to. “Alexander’s father?”

Coming closer, she whispers, “I wanted her dead.”

My voice fails me in fear, and I whisper, “She is.”

“But you’re not.”

I back away, debating if I run for the bedroom or the front door. “I’m not her.”

“No, you’re her replacement. You’re now the one who can take everything away from me. I won’t let you. Not again.”

“I didn’t. You’re confused. I’m Sara Jane. I’m not here to hurt you, April.”

“You already have.”

With my arms in front of me, I try to temper the crazy that burns in her eyes. “Did you take something?”

“Will you help me, Sara Jane?”

“I will.” She sways, and I reflexively move closer for support.

She collapses to the floor, and I drop to my knees. “April? April, what did you take?”

Her eyes roll to the back of her head, and her body convulses. I reach for my phone to call 9-1-1, but a hand is on my throat and my body is throttled back, my head hitting the bottom stair. April is bearing her weight down on me as I grab her arm and attempt to pull it off. When she doesn’t budge, I bring my knee up, ignoring the pulsing pain from my healing wound and push her off me. She flies back, her body hitting the console table behind the couch.

What little light exists shines on her exposed arms, fresh track marks from needles. Gasping for air, I scramble up against the step and pull myself to my feet. She kicks my ankle, causing me to stumble when I try to run. Her voice is shrill as she yells, “You won’t ruin this. Not again.”

“I’m not Madeline. April, please. It’s me, Sara Jane.”

“You’re all the same. All of you.”

I run to the other side of the living room, keeping the two couches between us when she rises. “April, don’t do this. I can help.”

“Help me? I don’t want your help. I want to live the life I should have had.”

“Hurting me won’t help you. Alexand—”

“Alexander is more her son than mine. There’s no saving him, just like there’s no saving you now.”

My throbbing heart stops dead in my chest and falls. “You wouldn’t hurt him. You gave birth to him.”

Her laugh is maniacal, but the laugh stops dead, just like my heart and her expression falls as if she can’t control the fallout of her actions. She slurs, “He’s his father incarnate. I’ve done you a favor.” A favor? What does she mean?

I’m never going to reason with someone strung out. She’s becoming sloppy and sluggish. I have to get out of here. Turning, I make a run for the terrace, unlocking the door and swinging it wide open. I dash across the stone area and down the steps onto the cold grass. I run past the rose bushes and down to the lake.

I pull my phone from my pocket and look back. She’s not following me, hopefully too out of it to keep up. Not able to catch my breath, I go to my recent calls and push the last one I called. The sounds of the night—cicadas, blowing leaves, the water lapping lightly—keep me on edge when they would usually soothe.

The first ring makes me jump, but the second speeds my heart up even faster in anticipation. “Please answer. Please answer. Please answer,” I chant, but my hopes are dashed when I get Officer Langley’s voicemail. “Help me. It’s Sara Jane. April is trying to kill me. Help me. I’m at the manor.” I quickly walk away from the house, deeper out into the property of the estate. “I’m by the lake. She’s in the house. Please—”

“Sara Jane?” I hear her calling me from the gardens, closer than the terrace, but far enough for me to run and hide.

Running, I grip my phone tight in my hand and scan the area, looking for a place to hide. My side aches, but I move as quickly as I can. The lawn is expansive, but there are no more gardens to protect me. I make it to the dock, staring into the inky black of the gently rippling water. I’m trapped. There’s nowhere to run. I’ll dive into the water if I have to, but I’m not supposed to submerge my wound.

Nothing exists out here but the moon that brightens the sky. I look across the lawn, knowing I only have seconds to decide my fate. I refuse to give up. Even injured, I can outrun her. I take off, leaving the lake behind.

“Sara Jane?”

I come to a stop and look back. “Jason?”

Light floods the grounds, blinding my view of the manor. A gun fires, the shot echoing through the dark. “Shit,” he shouts.

Dropping to the soft grass, I lie still but call out. “Jason?”

“Stay down.”

Another shot rings out, and I hear him grunt but see nothing. “Shit,” he yells. I start to crawl back toward the gardens, hating how exposed I am in the open.

I reach the edge of the rose bushes and breathe in relief. Until I hear someone behind me. I flip over in terror, ready to defend my life. April’s hand shakes as she bends down and tells me to be quiet, her finger over her mouth. The small silver gun aimed at me reflects the light that sneaks through the leaves from the manor. Whispering, she says, “Shhh. I’ll free you, Sara Jane. I’ll free you like I freed Alexander.”

Begging for my life, fighting for it seems like something I should be doing, but when she mentions Alexander, I need to know what she means. “What did you do, April? Where is Alexander?”

“It will all be okay. Like your baby, my baby is in heaven. They’re safe now. Together.”

There was a time—before I met the boy who would change my life, before I knew what it was like to experience pain—when I used to jump into swimming pools without a care in the world. I would cannonball right in and hold my breath underwater. I could see the sun through the wavy water above. I could hear muffled voices just five or ten feet from me. I could feel the life leaving my lungs, but I would stay there—drowning—until my instincts would send me up to break the surface. Gasping for air, I struggled to breathe, but knew I would live despite the thrill.

My heart no longer beats. My words stutter as tears sting like acid from her confession. “My Ale . . . xander?” My baby?

“He would turn out just like the man who raised him, the man who tried to rape you. Are you so blind to what he really is that you can’t see what he will become?”

Her eyes plead with me for understanding much like my heart bleeds, thinking Alexander is no longer alive. I can almost see the woman I met that first night—scared, scarred, desperate. She’s frantic for me to agree what she’s done is for the best. Deranged. I think the drugs aren’t just affecting her. She’s out of her mind. The gun wavers when she looks up, and I swing to knock it away, but she moves out of reach.

“It’s not about them for me. It’s only about him.” My tears fall as I stare at her in horror, disgust, and disbelief. “Please tell me you didn’t hurt him.”

“Alexander is better now. His soul can be saved before it’s too late. He can live in heaven instead of this hell they’ve created.” Her lips purse in anger. Her tone is startling and hate-fueled, and she shows no remorse. “He’s a Kingwood, which means he’s evil.”

Was Jason wrong? Has something happened since Jason left? He may not be of this earth any longer, so I take in the pain and breathe in our fate. We were never supposed to last a lifetime. The words once spoken so passionately to the man I’m willing to die to be with again come back in a fading memory . . .

“Bring on your darkness, Alexander. Bring on your burdens, lighten your load, and let me love you.”

“One way or another you’re going to be the death of me and on that day I’ll welcome it wholeheartedly. Like you, I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes in the time I’ve spent with you—living. Loving. I’ll never be over you. I’ll never have enough of you. Stay with me. Stay with me always, Sara Jane.”

“I’m here. I’m never going anywhere. I’m here because of you. I’ll live for you.”

Leaning back to look into my eyes, pain courses through his brow. “No, live for you. Never me, because when I’m gone, I need you to live on, carrying me with you.”

“You’re so set on dying. Take it from me, living is so much better.”

A life without him is no life at all. Our love wasn’t made for this universe. It was made for eternity.

But then again, I feel the same sensation from hours before. My heart recovers, finding its beat again, and I know. Alexander is alive. I feel him in my world. I will fight because I am strong. Kicking April as hard as I can, her body is frailer than her stubborn mind. She flies back, flailing to her side as she struggles to breathe.

I jump to my feet and run to the manor, but I don’t make it far before I see the silhouette. Floodlights off the house illuminate the body I’d know anywhere.

My feet pick up speed. “Alexander.” I run. Faster and faster, closing the distance. Twenty yards away, I call to him, “Alexander?”

His voice rings out just before the gunfire. “Get down, Sara Jane.”

And another gunshot.

I fall to the cool grass.

A scream muted by my mind’s panic—his name the only one crossing it.

Alexander.

Alexander.

Alexander.

The pain I thought I’d feel doesn’t come, so I pat my body wildly, searching for the new wound.

Nothing.

No holes.

No wounds.

No blood.

The weight of eternity falls on top of me, arms wrapped tightly around, and I’m pinned to the ground. It’s just a whisper of a breeze that blows across my skin, but I hear it. “Firefly.”

One word.

One heartbeat.

Followed by another.

I lift my head, turn to the side, and find his eyes. Even in the darkest hour they’re the clearest blue. “Alexander?”

“Stay down, Firefly.”

He ducks, and my head is cradled in his protective arms as a commotion surrounds us, chaos broken out. Voices—male, female, familiar, and unfamiliar—swarm the grounds.

“Are you alive? Are we?”

I can hear the disbelief in his tone when he says, “I think so.”

“Police. Put down your weapon.” I keep my head down and my eyes closed. I absorb the heat of my dark knight and wait to return to that place where only Alexander and I exist.

“Breathe, Sara Jane,” he whispers. “We’ll be okay.”

When I open my eyes, our faces are just an inch or two apart, but I stare as if I’m seeing this handsome addiction for the first time. The quiet has returned, voices only in the distance. He lifts just enough for me to roll over and reach up. I touch his cheek and whisper, “You came back to me.”

“I could never stay away from my girl.”

My girl. It’s so good to hear his voice. See his face. I’ve missed him so much. “Are you hurt?”

“No. April said she killed you, but you’re here.”

“She tried to.” The crunch of the grass underfoot causes him to look over his shoulder. It’s hard to make the person out, but it appears to be a woman. “I need to tell you something.”

Once again, my heart sinks. “What?”

A flashlight shines on the ground next to us, and the woman standing close by says, “Alexander?”

“Is this where you break my heart?” I ask, ignoring her and not ready to hear the truth.

“God, Firefly, I don’t have the strength. You. Your love. You kept me alive.” Touching my cheek, he wipes a rogue tear away. I glance to the woman, and he adds, “My mother is alive.”

My head does a double take. “Your mother?”

“Yes. Madeline.”

The woman kneels down, and the light finally hits her face. A soft smile appears and she says, “I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Sara Jane.”

An officer walks up behind her, his flashlight reveals her beauty and poise, both remaining, even under pressure, just like her son. He asks, “Is anyone hurt? Do we need to call another ambulance?”

Alexander’s weight leaves mine, his body lying in the grass next to mine. “We’re good. My gun is over there.”

Gun?

Gun.

His mother is talking to the officer I recognize as Brown. Certain words catch my attention—April Dorset. Drugs. Hostage. Dead.

My attention isn’t caught for long. Not when I have Alexander next to me. When I turn to look at him, he’s already staring at me. Our hands find each other’s in between and our fingers fold together. “Tell me you missed me, baby.”

I roll my eyes as that smirk that won me over four plus years ago on a tree-lined street just north of the city wins me over again. He’s lost weight—his face and his body looks thinner, remnants of the time he was away. But he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. “What’s a queen without her king?”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement, but he answers anyway, “Very, very lonely. I owe you something.”

I cup his cheeks and ask, “What do you owe me, Alexander?”

“My life. Remembering I had you to live for saved me. I always knew you’d be my savior.” He shakes his head and glances down quickly with a hard gulp. When he looks up again, he says, “You’re just so goddamn beautiful. My little Firefly is all grown up.”

I kiss him, smothering his cheeks and lips as he sings my praises in a melodic chant of my name, “Sara Jane, my sweet Firefly.”

“I missed you,” fills a sob as I drop my head down to his shoulder.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

“I love you so much. Thank God, you’re alive.” At the height of a gasp, I look into his eyes. “Don’t you ever leave me again!”

Chuckling, he says, “Never by choice, my love.”

Just as my fingertips leave his stubbly chin he says, “I love you.”

Langley is yelling for Brown to tend the victim. Alexander mumbles, “Fucking victim?”

Afraid of what I’ll find, I sit up hesitantly. I have to know for my own peace of mind she’s gone. April has rolled to her back and Langley kneels beside her on his phone, calling for backup and for paramedics.

“She wanted me dead,” I whisper, the gravity of the situation hitting me all at once.

Brown mutters under his breath while walking down to join his partner, “The rich are really fucked up.”

“Yeah, they are.” With his attention back on me, Alexander asks, “Are you okay, really okay?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

He helps me to my feet and dusts the grass from my robe. “I’m never letting you leave again.”

“Like you said, I don’t have the strength to, and I don’t want to. Hold me, Alexander.”

His arms wrap around me as sirens blare their approach, and paramedics run from the side of the manor toward us.

Langley comes back to Alexander and says, “Your mother . . . she wants to talk to you.” Alexander looks past him to the spot where April lies. Her shirt’s ripped open as the paramedics try to treat her injuries. Langley adds, “She’s not going to make it to the hospital.”

Alexander kisses the top of my head and continues to hold me. “I’m good.”

Respectively, he nods. No love remains between son and birth mother any longer, if it ever did.

Stepping back, I tighten the belt of my robe. “Where’s Jason? I think he’s hurt.”

Confusion overtakes Alexander’s face. “Was he here?”

“He was. He was trying to help me, but then I heard a gunshot. He yelled and then nothing.”

“What do you mean nothing?” He looks around as if he’ll find him. “Do you think he was shot?”

“I don’t know. I’m afraid to tell the police, because I don’t want him in trouble.”

“Stay here.” He walks to his mother just as Brown heads over to April. I can see them whispering and both searching the grounds. Madeline pulls her phone from her pocket and types. They wait until the screen lights up, and they look satisfied. When he returns to me, he says, “He’s fine.”

“You’re sure?”

His arm covers my shoulder. “Positive, babe. C’mon. Let’s get you checked out.” We start walking, but he stops me, and a wide smile graces his fine-featured face. “Look.”

Holding his hand, he captures a firefly. His palm opens and the light goes dim along with his smile. I scoop up the little bug and hold my palm flat in the air. The insect lifts slowly, the light bright as he flies away. I lift up on my toes, and kiss him gently. “Magic.”