Undone: The Complete Duology, page 14
“Just hang tight. We’ll be there in no time,” I murmured, more for my benefit than his.
The path faded and I navigated the jeep off road through the trees.
Bobby jolted forward, his palms flat against the dash. He heaved over and over.
“Oh, no, don’t do that. Oh, my god, Bobby, don’t you—”
“I need out,” he slurred, turning towards the door.
I’d already lugged the guy’s piss out of the basement. I wasn’t about to clean up his puke too.
I slammed on the brakes. He all but fell out of the jeep then stumbled a few steps before dropping to his knees and vomiting.
I stood next to the hood of the jeep, waiting for him to finish, uncertain what to do. What happened if he threw up too many of the pills? Had they digested enough to keep him drugged sufficiently for his transport?
When the retching subsided, he remained in position, one hand in the leaves of the forest floor, prepared for another round.
I went to offer him water, but I hadn’t packed any.
Not my best planning.
“Let’s just—”
Bobby scrambled to his feet and took off through the trees.
“God dammit!”
I bolted after him, bracing against the wet leaves slipping under my feet. He grabbed trunk after trunk as he passed, keeping himself upright, his body bobbing like a kite on the breeze as he scurried through the woods.
Towards town.
Not a chance that was happening. I turned back to the jeep, as much as it pained me to let him get away for the moment, then slammed on the gas. If Bobby were smart, he would head deeper into the woods, where I couldn’t follow him in a vehicle, but the space between the trees widened on the edges of town. Of course he was heading towards help.
Towards Mac.
The jeep gained on him as he staggered through the woods with intermittent bursts of jogging. He glanced over his shoulder and his entire body sagged before he dropped to his knees.
I parked and got out as he gasped for air.
“Are you fuckin’ insane?” I grabbed him by the back of his head and yanked his head back to stare up at me.
His eyes were dark and heavy, his lips swollen and smudged. Sweat trickled down his forehead despite the fact we were just this side of a snowstorm.
Without a word, I helped him up and guided him back to the jeep. He went willingly and sank into the passenger seat. I paused, assessing where we were, then worked the jeep through the trees in a large U-turn back towards our destination
I wasn’t entirely sure how far off track we were, but I would orientate myself as we made our way. The jeep rocked as it took to the uneven ground of rising mountains.
In another life, Thorn Tree would be beautiful with its quaint buildings, surrounding greenery, and sweeping landscapes of distant mountain ranges.
All I could see was every dark memory that crept in like shadows in a fading light.
That light would extinguish on the full moon.
I reached over to check Bobby’s breathing, placing my hand on his chest. His eyes popped open as he snatched my wrist and yanked me towards him. I jerked the steering wheel, and the jeep jumped down a small rocky drop. Bobby grappled with my shoulder, trying to pull me over out of the seat. I beat at him with my free hand in between adjusting the steering wheel so we veered back towards flatter ground. He grabbed my hair with his other hand as he scraped up my back, fumbling to grab my shirt.
He was going to throw me straight out of the moving vehicle.
I twisted and tried to pull out of my shirt. His wet fingers clawed at the skin of my back, my sides, trying to find purchase. I rammed the top of my head into his chest.
The jeep slammed into a rock outcropping and stuttered to a halt.
I flailed one arm behind me and wrenched open the driver side door, rolling my weight back with it. Slipping from Bobby’s hold, I tumbled to the ground with a resounding thud, knocking the wind out of my lungs. I scrambled back, but Bobby launched from the jeep, landing on top of me.
He was fighting the intoxication, hard.
He grabbed my face with his sticky nasty hands. I reached up blindly, beating at him, then grabbed his arms and tried to shove him off. He rolled with the momentum, dragging me with him. We hit an incline and skidded down, rocks and fallen branches scratching at glimpses of skin as we fought for the upper hand. My only chance was that he was still too high to be coordinated.
I brought my leg up and around his waist and tried to flip him. He bit down on my shoulder where it met my neck. Stinging pain radiated up to my jaw and down to my elbow. I beat at the back of his head.
We slammed into rocky ground, dislodging our holds. I elbowed him in the side and shoved out from under him, scrambling away.
He caught my ankle. I twisted around to punch him in the face.
The ground trembled.
Bobby jerked his hand off me and stared in the distance. I turned to watch, cold dread seeping through me.
In the near distance, a slice of forest shuddered and shook. Then, it began to slide, as if not attached to the earth. The trees shifted as another segment slid the opposite direction. The trees tightened closer together as the forest just beyond the boundaries of Thorn Tree rearranged itself.
I had seen the reformation numerous times, but it never left me less dead inside.
“Look what you did,” I said, voice hoarse. “We went too far, you fuckcicle.”
Bobby crawled over to me and peered over my shoulder, his head hovering next to mine like we weren’t mortal enemies who had just tried to beat the life out of each other.
“I’m trapped, aren’t I?” he asked softly.
I didn’t look at him, my gaze fixed on the new outline of the forest. “We all are.”
Bobby had been given a chance to escape. They had asked the forest to let him through, and it had agreed.
Even the enchanted forest didn’t think Bobby Bruno was good for Thorn Tree.
But his dumb ass had come back.
I skirted out from under Bobby. He remained on hands and knees, staring into the forest, no doubt contemplating the terrible mistake he had made by listening to his mother’s pleas to visit her. The forest wasn’t going to let him leave, and even if it did, I wasn’t.
Finally, Bobby Bruno understood the score.
As he watched his fate pan out in front of him, I rummaged around in the supplies I’d brought in the back of the jeep. He paid no attention to me, his face paling as he worked through each scenario. In every one of them, he died.
He didn’t notice as I removed the shovel from the back of the jeep, or when I walked up behind him.
He did notice when I hefted it up and swung it at him, but it was too late. The back of the shovel slammed into his skull. His head jolted back, then he slumped to the ground.
I returned the shovel to the jeep before I tried to lift Bobby. There was no way I was going to be able to carry him, so I grabbed him with both hands on one ankle and dragged his unconscious form towards the jeep. I made a wide turn to align him with the door, then hooking him under the arms, I strained to get him up in the seat.
My back would never be the same again.
My muscles spasmed and burned, and I wasn’t sure I hadn’t torn something in my leg by the time I got him into the passenger seat. He crumbled forward, his head against the dashboard.
The jeep started on the first try and I pulled us out and back in the direction that the forest approved.
Mac had known that wasn’t an earthquake the day of the picnic, but he had been thrown too off balance, in every sense, to look just beyond where we stood. Had he watched, the distance would have rearranged itself. Then he would have known: he wasn’t leaving either.
The forest wasn’t going to allow us to come and go again. It only occasionally humored Lou’s Restore and More. To keep us from becoming too restless and staging a coup, if we could ever do such a thing. Most of Thorn Tree was just fine living this way, trapped inside the town, with our contact filtered at the selection of a bunch of damn trees.
The Reverend told us God built the forest just for us, to protect us, the beloved residents of Thorn Tree, from the outside world. Within the town, we were perfect and whole and safe.
We just had to do as God said. He didn’t ask for much, after all.
The rocky rise I had been looking for came into view. I pulled up the jeep and, leaving Bobby still unconscious in his seat, I stood in front of the alcove in the rocks. It was almost a cave, but too shallow for me to bestow the title. There was enough room for a grown man—such as Bobby—to lay flat out inside. I took up shelter here once, a few years ago, when I had been driven out of town. When I knew I was no longer part of Thorn Tree.
It was fitting Bobby would finish his days here. I hadn’t meant for this situation to become so poetic, but I enjoyed the touch.
While Bobby slept, I used the shovel to clear the floor of the alcove of leaves and twigs and a dead bird, then laid out a plastic tarp.
On top of the tarp, I spread out blankets then rolled up another and placed it like a pillow against the wall.
When that was finished, I bound Bobby’s hands behind his back, then grabbed my gun and sat on an outcropping to watch the stormy sky, waiting for him to come to. My body couldn’t take trying to relocate him entirely on my own again. Every time I moved my right knee, a wave of nausea swept through me, though it wasn’t hurting too badly yet.
That would change by morning.
As I stared up at the sky, I focused on not remembering my first night here, in the cave. It had been fall, a chill in the air, and I had taken shelter in the rocks with literal blood on my hands.
Finally, Bobby stirred. I hopped down and stood next to the passenger side as he blinked back to the land of the living. He groaned, trying to sit up, then halted. He tugged at his restraints. With a sigh, he dropped his forehead back to the dash.
“Sorry, champ,” I said, with no remorse at all. “Come check out the new crib.”
He rolled his head towards me, his exasperated gaze settling on me. Blood splotches covered the dash and the back of the passenger seat.
Cleaning that was going to be a pain. At least he didn’t seem to be bleeding out. That was all that mattered.
I gestured with my fingers for him to step out. He eased his legs over and slowly lowered to the ground as I braced him by the bicep. He trudged a few steps, then halted, staring at the alcove I’d made up.
“Gracie…”
“I could just tie you to a pole,” I said, poking the barrel of the pistol into his side.
He shook his head, then winced. Without another word, he shuffled over to the alcove. I covered his head with my hand as he ducked inside. He settled back against the rolled-up blanket and I bound his feet, keeping the gun handy. I wasn’t sure if he cared about the weapon as much as he had no fight left in him, at least for now.
It had been a rough few hours for both of us, but mostly him.
The alcove provided no convenient option to secure him in place, so the restraints on his arms and legs would have to do. When I came back with water, I would have to bring his chair. The alcove should accommodate the height.
Couldn’t risk my prized possession running off.
When I finished securing his ropes, I draped a few blankets over his lap and tucked them up around his shoulders.
“It’s gonna get cold,” I said as I tightened them around his thighs. “I would suggest sitting as still as possible so they don’t fall.”
I retrieved the flashlight from the jeep, his eyes on me the entire time, and held it up.
“See, I won’t leave you in the dark, either.” I flipped on the flashlight then set it next to him. “It gets dark out here in the woods. I would know.”
I flashed him a smile, and his expression sagged, his gaze averting to the middle distance, where I didn’t exist.
I secured a clean gag around his mouth, and he didn’t resist. Few people came out this way close enough to hear if he shouted, but I didn’t want to press my luck.
Then I began piling up the logs from the jeep right in front of the alcove.
He gave me a questioning look.
“It’s as much for your safety as mine,” I said, still stacking. “It’ll keep out the cold.”
He tipped his head back against the rock wall behind him and stared up at the low ceiling.
When I ran out of logs from the jeep, I gathered more from the surrounding forest floor. The stack didn’t quite reach the top, but it formed a nice barricade that would block out the worst of the approaching winter weather.
“I’ll be back later,” I called through the gap at the top of the opening, then ignoring his muffled response, returned to the jeep.
On the drive home, I clenched the steering wheel until my hands ached. The entire day, I had planned to invite Mac over as soon as Bobby was in his new accommodations. I wanted one more time, unhindered, to enjoy everything that Mac was and I would never be.
But the close call with him nearly discovering Bobby had been the reminder I’d needed: I had a more important task at hand.
When I reached home, I slammed open the front door and stormed through the house, anger rolling off me.
I wanted to see Mac. I wanted to make him mine, again and again. I wanted to seal that he would never be anyone else’s again.
I wanted that moment back, the one we’d had last night.
Gritting my teeth, I swiped the container with the herb paste and blood off the countertop.
I wanted to be with Mac, but I couldn’t. Not yet. First, I had to clean the blood from my vehicle. Then, it was time to collect the next element for my spell.
This was going to be unpleasant.
18
GRACE
I showered before I left my house so I didn’t arrive in town looking and smelling like I had wrestled a hostage in the woods. The hot water and soap had alerted me to every scratch, scrape, and bruise that I had gathered during that adventure.
As I stood under the showerhead, my thoughts wandered to Mac. I could imagine his hands on me, trailing down my sides before parting my thighs. Nothing I could do here and now would satisfy me. My craving for him ran deep and ventured into territories I had not yet explored. I didn’t want anyone or anything else.
But first, I had to collect my second element. After I dried off and dressed in clean clothes, I headed into town with the container of my potion in a messenger bag slung across my torso. On the way back, I would pick up more donuts from Mr. Jimenez to cover my reason for being in town. Then I would need to take food and water to Bobby. Make sure the pills and alcohol had cleared his system and he hadn’t died.
He was such a nuisance.
The town was quiet, but not locked down. Lights were on in the windows of the small buildings as I passed, but the streets were empty as they often were. Someone who didn’t know the town might mistakenly believe it was deserted.
A glimmer high up on the hill caught my attention. Dread sank into my chest, even as I found myself turning towards the display: the church on the hill flashed with fiery light, a signal calling out to the town.
The light focused into a wide strip and like the beam from a lighthouse, swept slowly over the town. It came to rest on me. I shielded my eyes from the glare in my face as I reveled in its warmth. Everything else was so cold, inside and out.
I shuffled towards the hill, within the embrace of the light. Within it, my world was familiar and safe. Like it had been once.
Voices whispered in my ears, though no words were spoken. I knew I shouldn’t be going towards the light, but it drew me in.
I forgot why I was supposed to resist.
My soles slipped on the ground as I climbed the hill, my mind focused on the front door of the church as the whispers cooed and soothed in my ears. They were familiar: my mother, my grandma. My father was in there somewhere. Everyone I cared about, everything I had feared losing—it was here in this light.
Gracie Miller had been so loved.
The door to the church opened. The Reverend stood in front of me in the doorway, swathed in the churning golden-red light.
“Gracie.”
He glided towards me, and I did not resist as he cupped my face with both hands.
“Return to us,” he said. “You have been missed. It’s so hard out there, and you’re so alone. Let us protect you. Come home.”
“I can’t,” I whispered, leaning into his hold as if the weight of my existence was too much for my body to carry anymore. “You want to take him away from me.”
The Reverend smiled.
“They were mistaken.” He glanced in the direction of the town. “They did not understand the gift that has been given to us, to Thorn Tree. You have my blessing, child. Malachi is yours.”
Just like that, I would have everything I wanted. My town would understand me, accept me again. Malachi was staying anyway. They had already decided. Now, he could stay with me.
If I went inside, if I listened to the Reverend, if I surrendered to our god again—it would be best for Malachi. Safest for him. We would be here in this together.
I couldn’t imagine how lonely my life would be knowing he was out there and that I couldn’t have him. An ache formed in my chest at just the thought.
“No,” I whispered to the gloom of the future.
I could never allow that to happen.
The Reverend slid his hand down my arm and linked his hand with mine, leading me into the church.
With the first step over the threshold, into the glow of the million candles, I sucked in a shuddering breath. Memories assaulted my brain, but I shoved them back, both the good and the bad, and let the Reverend lead me down the aisle between the pews.
At the stage, he parted from me and retrieved a small dish from the pulpit.
I dropped the messenger bag at the base of the stairs before mounting them to join him on the stage.
