Page 81 of Melt the Ice

His eyes soften, but his grip stays tight, “I had to disappear, son. It was the only way to keep you safe. I failed your mom. But I won’t fail you.” Flames lick at the hood of the Jeep, the heat building. I’m tired of fire, I’m starting to get a complex.

“Dad, Scarlett. I need her.”

“I know.” He looks past me, scanning the tree line. “They’re coming back. We move now, or neither of us walks away.”

“What the hell is going on?” I yell.

He sighs, “Look, the same men who were after me are now after you two.” His eyes connect with mine, fierce and wet, and a fear I’d never seen in him dances with the reflection of the flames. “It’s time to end it.”

The sound of an engine revs in the distance. He curses under his breath. “Up, Lucas. Now!”

I try, I really do, but my legs won’t cooperate. “Dad, I can’t…”

“You can. You always could.” His hands grip my face, my tears finally breaking free as I look into the eyes I’ve begged to see one more time. “You’re my heart and your mother’s stubbornness. Don’t waste either.”

The roar of the fire grows behind us. He yanks me from the car and behind the line of trees just as the jeep combusts, heat slamming into our backs as we both hit the dirt.

I blink through the smoke, disoriented but reaching out for him. “Dad…” But he’s gone.

“Find the truth, kiddo. End it.” Filters through my ears, then silence and darkness take over. Leaving me to believe this was all some really jacked-up dream. My heart, that was full before, now ripped down the seam once again.

“Goldie, wake up.” Her voice sounds pained, and it rips straight through the fog around me. “Please wake up.” I try to open my eyes, but they’re too heavy.

I try, God do I try. But I can’t feel my body, it’s like I’m floating above it. Here, but not. Is this the afterlife? Suspended somewhere in between, my body and soul ready to go, but my heart still tethered to the woman begging me to wake up?

“Damn it, Lucas.” Her head drops to my shoulder, wetness seeps through the itchy fabric I now feel on my shoulder, bringing me back down. Back to her. “You can’t leave me.” A sob tears from her, vibrating against my collarbone. “You gotta wake up so I can tell you what happened. It’s been weeks since your accident.” Weeks?!

Her voice cracks, “I’m drowning without you, Goldie.”

Her distress drags me down further, back toward the weight of my body. I fight to find my way out of the darkness, searching for her voice until I manage the smallest groan.

“Lucas?” The hopeful plea in her voice propels me into the light.

My eyes flutter open. The fluorescent light burns, shapes start to sharpen, but everything is too white, too sterile. I blink until the brightness softens, and she comes into focus. Lettie. My Lettie. Her eyes are swollen, still my favorite shade of brown, and beautiful as ever. Her relief is palpable as her shoulders soften, then she’s on me. Collapsing against my chest, sobbing into the hollow of my throat.

“Don’t you dare do that to me again.” She mutters against my skin.

A grunt leaves me on impact. “Lettie,” my voice is rough, raspy in a way I’ve never heard it. “Where is he?”

She pulls back, brows drawn tight. “Where’s who?”

“My dad.”

Her mouth falls open, head shaking softly. “He pulled me out of the car. Where is he?”

“Your… Lucas, no.” Her words get softer, like I’m made of glass. “Miller pulled you out. Maybe… maybe you thought it was him with all the adrenaline.”

“No,” I whisper. “He called me kiddo.”

She doesn’t answer. The silence stretches until the awful beeping of the machines fills it. The feelings are too much, the pain in my head threatens to pull me under. It’s too bright in here. Too cold, the beeping from the machines I’m hooked up to makes me want to explode. I don’t want to do this anymore.

I’m alive when I shouldn’t be. I shut my eyes, blocking it all out. I don’t want to think about the possibility that I imagined this, him. He was there. I saw his eyes. Heard his voice. But now, it’s just another loss. One more thing that life decided to take from me.

At this point, giving in to the darkness nipping at the edge of my consciousness sounds easier than fighting for my happy ending.

35

scarlett