Chapter Thirty
Rory
I’m fine, I’d said to Amelia. Twice in the last two minutes.
I wasn’t fine. The cards and small talk had kept the demons at bay for a while, but as the sky grew darker outside, it all began to press down on me.
It was always this way for me on the Elgol leg of the trek—too many bad memories. It never got any easier. And I didn’t want it to.
I wished we could have pushed on to Elgol, rather than lingering here, but there was just no way. If it had only been me, I would have kept going, storm or no storm. But Amelia had been struggling for the last few hours. And you charging on ahead didn’t help, jackass. No, it definitely hadn’t, but even if I hadn’t done that, there was no way she could have slogged on for another four miles, especially with the cliffs up ahead.
I wanted to down the rest of that bottle of whisky and forget about everything, but it wouldn’t help. I couldn’t forget, no matter how much alcohol swam through my veins. I’d tried that before—more than once.
It was nearly dark. I retrieved our sleeping bags and mats from our packs and went into the back room.
I laid out Amelia’s bedding on the bottom bunk and set up mine on the top. I couldn’t handle having her close to me again, waking up with my body wrapped around hers, breathing the scent of her, my need for her impossible to hide.
I returned to the front room and her too-perceptive stare. “You should step outside again before it gets dark.” She nodded and got to her feet. She was walking a little better than she had been earlier, but I could tell from the set of her mouth that her knee was bothering her.
She slipped into her boots and coat and ventured out into the rain. Then I took my own turn outside. The rain hadn’t let up at all, which was going to make the trail muddy and difficult tomorrow, even if it cleared like it was supposed to.
Amelia was at the table when I returned. “Do you think anyone else will show up here tonight?” she asked.
“No. It’s nearly dark, and it’s been pouring for hours. Anyone else on this leg of the trail would have turned back to Sligachan when that storm hit, or else they’d have been here by now. I’m going to turn in. I’m pretty beat, and there’s not much we can do once it’s dark in here. I’d rather not use our torches if we don’t have to.”
“Okay, I’ll be in soon, too.”
“If you do need the loo during the night, take a torch with you, and be careful. If you’re even the slightest bit worried about it, wake me up, okay?”
“I will.”
“Good night.”
“’Night.”
I went into the back room and changed into the shorts I slept in, then climbed up the ladder and crawled into my sleeping bag. I heard the slap of cards on wood and knew Amelia was playing solitaire, obviously making the most of the last dregs of daylight.
I listened to the wind rattling the windows, the rain falling in sheets outside. It was bad out there. I muttered a thank-you to the Mountain Bothy folks for our shelter. It would have been a rough afternoon and evening without it.
Amelia came into the room a little later, partially covering her torch with her hand so that she wouldn’t wake me. I could have told her not to bother, but I just pretended to be asleep. There was a slight unf as she settled in to the bunk. Then a click, and the room was completely dark.
I heard the rustle as she moved around in her sleeping bag, heard her soft sigh as she finally got comfortable. I pictured her hand curled under her chin, her long hair sliding around her shoulders, her long, dark lashes like wee fans grazing the tops of her cheekbones.
I wanted so badly to climb back down that ladder and join her. I wanted to feel that hand on me, to tangle my fingers in that curtain of hair, to press my lips to those delicate lashes. I wanted to wrap my body around hers and let her feel how much I wanted her—and have her want me back just as much.
I didn’t do any of those things.
“Good night, Rory,” she whispered.
I didn’t answer.
…
I finally stumbled on to the summit, after over an hour of scrambling and fighting the wind and ignoring their calls from behind me—one taunting, the other pleading. But I had barely a moment to look around in triumph before I was completely surrounded by a thick mist.
I froze. Where was the edge?
I had made it all the way to the summit, only to be completely helpless. I couldn’t see, couldn’t move. I was so afraid I’d plummet to my death.
“Rory, where are you?”
I closed my eyes in relief. He’d found me. “Here! I’m at the top!”
“You made it to the top! I knew you could!” I could hear the smile in his voice, and my chest swelled with pride. “Hang on, I’m almost there.”
“Be careful. It’s really socked in. I can’t see anything.”
“No worries. We’ll wait until it clears and go down together. Just stay where you are. Do you hear me? You just stay where you are, and I’ll come to you.”
“Okay,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
I was completely blind. My breath came faster and faster; my heart pounded so fast it hurt. If I could only just see him, I’d be okay. But the mist was too thick.
“Rory, talk to me.”
“I’m scared,” I gasped, cringing at how weak I sounded. If he had heard me, he would have mocked me for that, too.
“I know. Just breathe. In through your nose—hold it—out through your mouth—hold it. And again. Can you do that? I’m almost there, I promise. Just stay where you are and breathe.”
I breathed, just as he told me to. In through my nose, out through my mouth, holding it for a moment in between each inhale and exhale. I found a boulder and clung to it.
The mist suddenly dissipated, and I saw his face. He smiled and took a step closer, his gaze holding mine. “There you are.” Another step. And then…
“Shh, Rory. It’s okay.” A cool hand touched my cheek, then a soft weight settled against me. I reached for it—for her—and held on. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”
I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Amelia?”
“Yeah, it’s me. You were dreaming.”
Something wasn’t right—something other than my nightmare. “I’m in the top bunk.”
“I know.”
“You climbed up here?” I said stupidly.
“I did. It was really, really far. And I didn’t even get a kiss this time,” she joked, reminding me of that other time she’d awakened me from a nightmare and I’d kissed her. Like I could forget.
Amelia ran her fingers through my hair, over and over. I closed my eyes and just let her soothe me. It was so exhausting to keep trying to resist my need for her touch. “Rory?”
“Mmm?”
“Will you tell me what happened, what it is that haunts you?”
My heart seemed to stop, and then started to pound. I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. “I…I don’t know if I can.” I hadn’t told anyone since I told Scarlet when I joined SBF, and even then, it was only what she needed to know.
“Maybe it will help you to talk about it, here in the dark. Just say the words. Pretend I’m not here.”
As if I could do that, with her body pressed close to mine, her scent all around me, her hand in my hair.
“I…don’t want you to think badly of me,” I whispered.
Her hand left my hair to touch my cheek again. She turned my face to hers, and I could feel her eyes on me. “Rory, listen to me. My best friend is in a coma because of my carelessness. I’m the last person who will think badly of you. Tell me.”
Tell her. You’ve kept it bottled up inside for so long. Just tell her.
I took her hand from my cheek and held it like a lifeline. And then I told her.