Desolation
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”
I pull back and look up into his eyes, and he’s staring down at me, his face full of horror. I reach up and cup his jaw in my hand and whisper, “I’d do it again, for you.”
My eyes flicker to the pile of medical supplies on the bed. He really did have it delivered. Relief floods through me. Rainer takes my face in his hands and presses our foreheads together. “Please tell me that he didn’t . . . that you didn’t . . .”
It’s in that moment I realize Rainer will break if I tell him what I bargained with. So, I tell him, “He never got that far. An emergency call came in and he shoved me out.”
“But he’s going to want it,” he says, pained. “He’s going to want it. God, Pippa, you should have just let me be. You silly, stupid, beautiful girl.”
I sob again and whisper, “I’d do it again, Rainer. You would have died if I didn’t . . .”
“No,” he rasps. “No. You don’t save me, do you hear me? You never save me.”
“I’ll always save you.”
And I will.
Because it’s your job to always save the only person you have left in your world.
CHAPTER TEN
NOW - Pippa
Tyke’s warm hand is curled around mine as we walk slowly over the sand. Our lunch together was amazing—I don’t think I’ve smiled so much since I’ve been back. He made me laugh, he told jokes, and he smiled at me and made my insides turn to liquid. Spending the day with him is the best choice I’ve made this week.
“Mind if I ask you a question, little one?” Tyke says.
“Ah, sure.”
He squeezes my hand. “I know you haven’t spoken about it to anyone, because obviously you don’t want to, but . . . how’re you recovering from everything that went on?”
“You mean being a slave for over five years?”
His jaw tics and he nods sharply. I’ve never told Tyke much about my time away. I haven’t really told anyone. I guess a big part of me feels ashamed, even though I know I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m worried that if people know what I saw, they’ll feel guilt, or worse—they’ll look at me with even more pity than they already do.
“I’m fine,” I say. “I don’t really think much about it. I notice it more in my personality. I struggle with a lot of things, still.”
“Yeah, I bet you do. It wouldn’t be easy. You know you can always talk to me, don’t you?”
I squeeze his hand. “Of course I know that.”
“I’ve felt a connection with you since the first time I laid eyes on you, and I know you feel the same. I want you to know that you can trust me.”
“I do trust you,” I say softly. “I just don’t like talking about what happened there. It changed something inside me and when I think about it, I get distressed.”
He stops us and turns to me. “Then we’ll talk about something else. How’re you feeling after lunch?”
I beam. “So proud of myself. I’ve never done anything like that before. It felt amazing.”
“You did amazing, Pip,” he says, his eyes growing warm.
“Thank you,” I say, flushing. “For helping me like this. I know it’s a lot of time out of your day and . . .”
“Don’t,” he says, his voice gruff. “Wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to.”
No, I suppose he wouldn’t. I’m learning that.
“Now, it’s time for our next challenge.” He grins wolfishly and takes my hand, leading me into a quiet cove.
“What are we going to do?”
“Yell.”
“Yell?” I say, eyes wide.
“Yeah, Pip, yell. You’re soft-spoken, but it’s okay to have a say. It’s okay to stand up for what you believe in. It’s okay to be angry and vent. Those are all normal things that you shouldn’t be ashamed of. You’re not in that monster’s grips anymore—you’re allowed to feel.”
My heart starts pounding and I fumble my fingers together nervously. Tyke notices and takes my hand, pulling me closer. “No one is here to hear us. Don’t be afraid.”
“I don’t . . . I don’t know, Tyke,” I say hesitantly.
“It’s just me, little one. I’ll never judge you. Come on—we’ll do it together.”
He steps back and lifts his head in the air. “Woo hoo!”
He yells this loudly, and I can’t stop the giggle that escapes my lips. It does look like fun. He turns to me with a massive grin. “Come on, it’s two words. Give it a go.”
I swallow and tilt my head back. “Woo hoo.”
That was pathetic. It was weak and lame. I frown and shift nervously.
“Try again. Open your voice box and just scream, Pip.”
I take a deep breath, close my eyes and bellow, “Woo hoo!”
“Yeah.” Tyke laughs, clapping his hands. “Atta girl. Now do it again.”
Both of us tip our heads back and scream the two words over and over, until we fall back laughing. Tyke, wearing a big smile, turns to me and suggests, “Now let’s get angry.”
I shrink instantly. Laughing is one thing, but anger . . . no.
“I can’t do anger, Tyke,” I say.
“You can; it’s easy and it’s natural. You don’t have to let people push you around forever, little one. You’re the master of your own destiny.”