Lock

“Jules …” I repeat, but she doesn’t respond.

In the middle of the open field filled with ashes of burned down trees, she stands.

Towering above the remains of the metal bird. The helicopter.

Her hands firmly clutched, close to her unmoving body.

I approach.

A short but bitter glance makes me stop.

She’s never looked at me that way.

Not even when I put her down in that pit.

Or when I tied her to my bed.

Not even when I told her about the girl who died because of me.

It’s a look of pure hatred.

And it destroys me.

My eyes widen the moment she opens her hand to show me something.

An arrowhead.

My handcrafted arrowhead.

But she dropped the arrow back there ... I saw it myself.

A sharp pang in my stomach makes me clutch my jaw. I can’t fucking breathe.

She found it here … on the very ground she’s standing on right now.

My head hurts. Pain rushes through my veins.

Everything is unraveling before me.

I can’t let it happen.

“Jules …” I mumble, taking a step toward her.

“You … monster!” she yells.

The tears rolling down her cheeks scar me in ways I didn’t think were possible. Wound me in a place I never thought I’d feel. My heart … bleeds.

“Jules, please …” I say, shaking my head.

“No,” she says, placing her feet firmly on the ground. “Stay back.”

I bite my lip but stop. Even though my entire body screams to go to her, wanting to hug her tight, I can’t because I don’t want her to hate me even more.

“You … did this?” she yells, holding up the arrow as though it’s a piece of her soul.

My lips part, but I don’t know how to respond.

How would anyone when faced with an impossible choice?

“Those arrows … I knew I saw them somewhere, and then I remembered what happened in the helicopter,” she says through gritted teeth, swallowing down more tears. “You shot at us!”

I suck in a breath, but it burns like the fire from the day I met her.

The fire that scorched the very earth I love so deeply.

The fire … I caused.

I lower my head, unable to keep looking at her as I hear my own truth through her voice.

I’ve lived with this guilt for so long, I almost learned to cope.

“Did you?” she screams. “Answer me, Lock!”

“Yes.” It comes out as one word, but it repeats itself over and over in my head.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

I killed that little kid because it’s my fault she fell.

I killed countless other people in the cage with my own bare hands.

I killed the metal bird that carried her and more people.

And now I killed her love for me too.

“How … how could you?” The tears stream across her face again.

I don’t know what to do, so I stand here frozen to the ground.

There’s no place I can go where she won’t be.

No place she can flee where I won’t stalk.

We’re bound to each other by this island.

Bound by tragedy and despair.

“I’m sorry …” I say, pulling the words from the deepest pit of my soul.

“No! You don’t get to say you’re sorry and pretend like everything’s okay!” she yells, her face completely red. “Sorry won’t bring Pete and Ollie back! It won’t bring the pilot back! It won’t bring back the plants destroyed by your hand, and it will never bring back my life as I know it!”

Suddenly, she stomps toward me. I don’t know how to react, so I stay put and allow her to come into my space. She points her finger at me and says, “You destroyed everything I had and turned it into dust. Why? Tell me why!”

She pushes me in the chest.

I let her.

I don’t know what else to do but let her. If it’s the only comfort I can give her, then I’ll gladly let her throw herself at me for as long as she needs to. I’ll endure all the hatred she can give. All the suffering she’ll bring.

I deserve every inch of it.

“Why did they have to die?” she yells in my face, punching my chest.

“I … was hunting birds. That metal thing … it looked very dangerous.”

“So you just decided to attack us?” she scoffs. “How dare you!”

“It wasn’t like that. I did shoot two arrows at it. But it didn’t cause the crash.” I can’t even look at her. Can’t face the pain I’ve caused her. “Nothing I say will change what happened.”

“Why? Why would you do that?” she yells.

“Because the birds flew in the direction of that thing. And when I hit one, the rest of them flew straight into the windows. I don’t know what happened inside … but I saw the crash happen right in front of me.”

For a moment, her hands freeze, and even her breathing stops.

“What …?”

I bite my lip. “The bird I shot scared the other birds, and they all flew into the helicopter, smashing the windows,” I say, looking away.

“The pilot … that thing on the controls …” she mumbles, her eyes drifting off. I have no idea what she’s talking about.

I only know that I wish it never happened. “If I had known you were inside, I would’ve never—”

“Shut up!” she says, punching me again. “Don’t you dare make this about me! I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” She points at the metal wreckage. “Apologize to them. They died because of you,” she exclaims.

I turn to look at the molten metal and say, “I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I really am.” I shake my head as our eyes lock again. “But I don’t regret saving you. Ever.”

“You didn’t fucking save me!” she yells. “You broke me!”

“But you’re still here. Alive,” I reply, making a fist.

“Those people lost their lives while I’m still here. They died while I live. How is that fair?”

“Life isn’t fair. It’s not supposed to be fair,” I growl.

How can she not appreciate her own life?

I get that she’s upset with me, but she’s still alive and well. That’s more important to me than anything else, and it should be to her too.

“Easy for you to say. You did this.” Tears still stream from her eyes. “You caused all of this. All this pain. This misery.”

Her fists come at me, but her strength is gone. It’s just a gentle tap, but one with immeasurable emotions. When she tries again, I grab her wrist and stop her, midair.

I gaze deep into her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She bites her lip, shaking her head, her eyes red and big.

She has every right to be angry.

Every right to want to scream and fight.

But I can’t let her destroy herself like this.

“I couldn’t save them,” she mutters.

She must mean the people who were in the helicopter with her.

“It’s not your fault,” I say, lowering my head.

“No … it’s yours,” she hisses.

She tries to slap me again, but I grab both her wrists now.

“I’m sorry,” I say again.

I don’t care how many times I have to say it. I’ll keep saying it until she realizes I mean it. Until she knows how much guilt I feel … and that I will do anything in my power to make it up to her.

“Get out of my face,” she spits.

For a second, I’m tempted to do what she asks. But I don’t want to avoid her hatred. I want to face it. Conquer it. Devour it until it no longer exists.

I still want her, and I know she still wants me. She just can’t see past her hatred, and it will suffocate her.

I can’t let it happen.

So I lean in and kiss her, right on the lips, pouring every ounce of my love into her.