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Sara turns her head, avoiding my gaze. The action tells me more than I ever wanted to know. “At first…” she pauses, clears her throat, then meets my eyes. Hers are full of shame and self-loathing.
Fuck.“Forget it,” I say with a wave of my hand.
“No, don’t, Zain. I need this. And so do you.”
Nodding, I reluctantly drop my ass to the sofa and rest my elbows on my knees.
Sara sits on the sofa opposite me, hands clasped as she looks down at the floor. “When I met Tony, it was amazing. He was sweet and gentle, and we were happy. About six months in, he changed. He was moody and withdrawn. And he was so damn angry.”
I clench my jaw and ball my fists. I can’t begin to count the hours I’ve spent over the years fantasizing over the things I would have done to him if I’d had the chance.
“It’s not what you’re thinking, Zain. He wasn’t abusive, not physically at least. He was just—it was the drugs that made him do those things.”
“Jesus Christ! You’re making excuses for that piece of shit?” I get to my feet, pacing the living room. “He’s the reason you’re dead, Sara! Do you get that?” Sara’s expression of pain has me attempting to reign in my temper. My attempts are useless. There’s no disguising my anger when my voice cracks. “Tell me the rest,” I demand.
“At first, I was just delivering the stuff and picking up the money. I was safe, everyone knew Tony, and he made it known that I was off limits.” Sara sighs heavily. “I would use here and there to have a good time, but I didn’t think I had a problem. I thought I had it under control, you know? By the time I realized how deep I was, I couldn’t get out. You don’t understand, Zain, I had no one else. Tony had isolated me from everyone and everything I cared about.”
“Goddamnit, Sara, you still had me!” I slap my hand against my chest. “All it would have taken was one call, one fucking call and I could have—”
“STOP!” Sara stands and shoves her trembling hands into the pockets of her worn jeans. She shakes her head. “Tell you? You were a world away! What were you going to do, run home and rescue me?” She glares at me, face twisted into a scowl. “I wasn’t a little kid who needed her brother to protect her from the big, bad world anymore. I grew up, Zain!”
Pain lances my chest. “I made you a promise…” I trail off and Sara kneels at my feet her voice too gentle, serving only to fuel the rage and regret I’m choking on.
“You wanted to be the knight in shining armor, but we were never meant for a fairy tale, Zain.” Look at me, “I didn’t choose to die the way I did, but it was a result of the decisions I made. A price that had to be paid. I know you don’t want to believe it, but the decisions… I chose those, Zain. I took those drugs. I stood on those corners and sold my soul to any man who was willing to pay so I could get my next fix. I don’t blame youfor any of this, but I’m not blameless either. So please, don’t put me on some kind of pedestal. I was nowhere near as perfect as you wanted me to be.”
Devastation and denial tear through me. “You were fucking kidnapped and murdered. You weren’t to blame for this, not one fuckin’ bit.” Balling my hands into fists, I stand, and Sara moves back, her eyes brimming with pity. “It was not your fuckin’ fault,” I say again.
She closes her eyes and releases a heavy sigh. When her attention is back on me, she gives me a small smile. “It doesn’t matter what I say. You’ll never see me as anything but a victim, will you?” She shakes her head. “God, I thought if I could just talk to you, tell you the truth, that I could change your ending… but I can’t, can I?”
I rub my hands over my face. “Sara—”
“No, just stop,” she says, “I may not be here anymore, Zain, but I stillfeel. I still experience happiness and sorrow the same way you do.” Sara sighs, her eyes downcast as she walks away from me. When she finally turns, tears well in her eyes.
“I’m sorry you had to lose me, I’m sorry for the pain and the hurt. But can’t you see that you’re doing the same thing to me? Because now I have to stand by and watch you lose yourself.”
Just as I predicted, Sara disappears.
Ten minutes later, I’m straddling my bike racing down the open road, alone.
And doesn’t that describe my fucking life now.
Alone.
***
Two hours later, I pull up at the lookout of Blackheart Mountain. Tall, leafy green trees create a canopy of shade over the uneven ground. Beams of light flicker through, dancingacross the forest floor, highlighting jagged stones and fallen branches.
I continue my ascent along the well-worn path until I reach the top. The view from up here never fails to take my breath away, but the pang of guilt that sours my stomach, ruins the moment. Hands gripping the railing, I stare at the empty sky and search for answers I may never have.
Why Sara? Why not me?I would have traded my life for hers in a heartbeat. Seeing her now—in death, should be enough. It should lessen the guilt knowing she doesn’t blame me, but the guilt is like a living, breathing thing. An all-consuming force that’s slowly sucking the life from me.
Would I be better off dead?Now that I’m aware of the afterlife, death no longer feels final.
It wasn’t until Priest told me about Azrael that I even believed there was life after death. For all of five minutes I was a skeptic. As Priest laid himself bare, I came to believe pretty fuckin’ quickly. Priest was never one to spin tall tales. He wasn’t a liar, and the devastation in his eyes when he told me about Doe… that was fuckin’ real. What I didn’t expect was to experience that same utter devastation.
I clench my fists around the railing before I drop my head and focus on the letters etched into the steel in a messy, childish scrawl…Z + S
“Hey, squirt, you know that’s vandalism. What have I told you about things like that?”
