32.

Elise

When my eyes had popped open, they opened to dark, the darkest of dark, darker than the cave Beau had taken me to at Carter Caves, and soundless. Only the sound of my breathing, my blood pumping in my ears, my heartbeat kind of sensory deprivation. About two point five seconds after that, my freak out commenced. About two point five seconds after that, I realized how cramped my quarters, as in just big enough to hold my body. Then about two point five seconds after that, I shut the hell up.

My head hurt then, it still hurts now.

Darkest of dark, sensory deprivation and the softest padded satin surrounding me, it didn’t take a genius to figure out where I am. A coffin. I don’t know how much time has passed since I woke up and came to that eerie realization, but now all I can do is sit with my memories, waiting, hoping someone will find me in time, that my Beau doesn’t lose his family today. I rest my hand on my small baby bump. Mommy’s little parasite.

The ferry. Levi and I watched it glide back across the river toward us. I guess we both let our guards down. But the ferry was coming. We’d be safe. Away from Houdini. So neither of us thought anything of it when he grabbed my hand and pulled me to start for the dock. “Let’s go.”

He’d sidled over so his feet rested in the water to prepare to help me climb on board the boat. And then it all happened so fast…so fast.

Houdini was there. He’d found us. He’d found us with his gun out, trained on Levi. And Levi dropped. Well first his body jerked several times, I screamed bloody murder because I think I had, in fact, witnessed a bloody murder, and then Levi dropped.

Scared immobile. I’d been too stunned to move because my badass biker buddy might have just died to save my life. Then my flight instinct kicked in, but kicked in too late. Once I turned to run, Houdini, he’d already caught me.

I felt it when the butt of the gun connected with the back of my head. It hurt for a second, after that second, nothing hurt. Not until I woke up here. In a freaking coffin. The real Houdini, the magician Houdini’s most difficult trick. The one he never got to perfect before his untimely demise.

Come on, Elise. I know I have to listen to that inner voice inside my head. All this reminiscing serves no purpose, save messing with me enough to get worked up again and thus using up my limited oxygen stores. And as I’m not keen on using up my limited oxygen stores, I force my eyes to close, to think of Beau and how he looked at me as I walked down the aisle toward him. The love, the pride he wore for all his brothers to see, but it was all for me, just for me.

Then I let myself drift off to an imaginary world where Beau and I relax on the beach, the setting sun still warming our skin while we hold each other watching the ocean waves lap, break after break, eating away the sandy shore until the salty water finally laps our toes.

Tears sting my eyes.

I wanted that imaginary world. I still want it, but the chances of ever getting it slip further and further away with each passing minute. So I let it go, imagining another, where I rock our baby on the swing out front of Beau’s house, leaning against his chest. Beau’s powerful arms hold the both of us.

And I begin to sing. Softly. I pick a lullaby my father used to sing to me when I was a little girl. He’d sing it those nights I’d wake up scared from some unidentified monster hiding in my closet or under my bed, or when the thunder rattled the house so fiercely, my child mind thought it would crash down around us.

I sing because I would have sung to my little parasite when he or she woke scared from some unidentified monster hiding in the closet or under the bed. Or the nights when the thunder rattled our little bungalow so fiercely, his or her child mind would think it would likely crash down around us.

As I sing, my words muffle out from a loud thud. A heavy, loud thud. Like maybe the edge of a shovel hitting the coffin lid, thud?

“Hello?” I call. But my voice comes out softer than I mean it to, probably due to the sheer surprise of hearing the thud in the first place. “Hello?” I call out louder this time.

“Elise?” I hear my name called back. Muffled, but called nonetheless.

“Beau?” I yell this time. “Beau?” A screech now.

“Calm down baby girl.” Thud. “I’m here.” Thud. “I’m here, darlin’.” Thud. Voices grow louder. Thud. “Elise?” Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Here!” Thud. Then there’s a crack. And blinding light, so blinding, so light I have to close my eyes to shield them, missing that first look at my Beau. That is until I hear the thunk of his boots hitting the wood, his broad, strong body shielding me, I see the light dim through my closed eyelids then open them. And I have never seen anything so beautiful, so wonderful in my entire life.