Read Beautiful Sacrifice Online
Authors: Jamie McGuire
“We’ll be down,” Taylor said.
Phaedra offered him a small smile of appreciation, the wrinkles around her mouth deepening. “All right then.”
She closed the door, and once again, Taylor and I were alone, wrapped in each other’s arms under the blue blanket.
“I wasn’t prepared for how good this feels,” Taylor said. “Every muscle in my body is relaxed.”
“Like you’ve never sat and held a girl before.”
He was quiet, so I looked up at him.
“You’re full of it,” I said.
“I don’t really …” He trailed off, shrugging. “It’s not my thing. But this is kind of awesome.”
“What is your thing?” I asked.
He shrugged again. “One-night stands, angry women, and fighting fires.”
“If you weren’t sitting here with your arms around me right now, I’d say that makes you kind of an asshole.”
He considered that. “I’m okay with that.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
He chuckled. “This surprises me. You surprise me.”
I smiled, feeling another tear slipping over my lips. I reached up and wiped it away.
“Here,” he said, offering his T-shirt.
He touched the cotton to my lips as I looked up at him.
“Why did you stay away?” I asked.
“Because of this. You make me feel weird.”
“
Weird?
” I asked.
“I don’t know how else to describe it. Any other girl, I could bag and not think twice about it. Not you. It’s kind of like that feeling you got as a kid, right before you did something you knew would get you an ass-whipping.”
“I have a hard time believing you’re that intimidated.”
“Me, too.” He paused. “Falyn?” He took a deep breath, as if saying my name was painful, and he rubbed his eyes. “Fuck, I thought I wanted to know, but now, I don’t think I do.”
“Ask me,” I said, readying myself to dodge the truth.
“Just tell me one thing.” He paused, unsure if he wanted the answer. “Does your connection with Eakins have to do with my brother?”
I sighed, relieved. “No. I just looked up the fire today.”
“So, you know about Travis.”
“No. I didn’t have time to get a good look, and you don’t have to tell me.”
Taylor rested his chin on my hair, his muscles relaxing again.
I was glad he couldn’t see the look on my face. Just because I wasn’t involved with the fire didn’t mean I didn’t have an agenda. “Taylor?” I said with the same hesitation he’d had in his voice.
“Ask me,” he said, repeating my earlier response.
“I do want to go to Eakins for a reason. I was hoping you’d take me there. I’ve been saving. I have enough for a plane ticket. I just need a place to stay.”
He took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. “I thought that might be where you were going with this.”
I winced. “It’s not what you think. I agree, it’s a coincidence. But I’m not trying to find out anything about your brother.”
“Then tell me.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “What if I prove it to you—that it’s not about your brother? Will you consider it?”
Taylor shrugged, confused. “I guess so.”
I stood up, leaving him for my bedroom. I pulled the shoebox out of my closet and returned to the sofa, pulling out an envelope and shoving it at him. “The address on your license is on this street.”
He looked at the return address, frowning. “This is next door to my dad’s house. How do you know the Olliviers?”
I breathed out a laugh, my eyes filling with tears. “Next door?”
“Yeah,” Taylor said, handing back the envelope.
I pulled out a photograph and offered it to him. He looked it over—a four-by-six picture of a young girl standing on a sidewalk, leaning against her brother, Austin. Her waist-length platinum-blonde hair was pinned away from her face, her enormous green eyes peering up at the camera over a shy smile. Austin hugged her to him, proud and protective, like a big brother should be.
Taylor handed it back to me. “Those are Shane and Liza’s kids. How do you know them?”
I shook my head and wiped a tear that had escaped down my cheek. “It’s not important. What is important is that you believe my reason for wanting to get to Eakins has nothing to do with your brother.”
“Falyn, it’s not that I don’t believe you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck again. “It’s just … Shane and Liza are neighbors and family friends. They’ve been through a lot.”
“I get it,” I said softly, trying to quell the frustration welling up inside of me. “It’s okay. I understand.”
Taylor’s face seemed to be weighed down with guilt. He started to reach out to me but didn’t. “Just … give me a second. I thought you were undercover or something, to get info on my brother. This is a lot to wrap my head around.” He hesitated. “What do you plan to do?”
“I …” I took a deep breath. “I’m not really sure. I don’t want to cause their family any more pain. I just know I want to start over, and I can’t do that unless my story with that family ends.”
Taylor blanched and then looked away. “You don’t have to say anymore. It’s all starting to make sense now—why you don’t drive, why you’ve started all over here, away from your family.”
“Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong,” I said, shaking my head. I put the envelope and picture away in the shoebox and closed the lid.
Taylor watched me and then touched my cheek. I recoiled.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling his hand back. His eyes gave away his frustration—not with me, but with himself.
“You’d be doing me a huge favor, and I’m willing to do almost anything to get to Eakins.”
He sighed, unable to hide his disappointment. “You have priorities. I can appreciate that. God knows I’ve left plenty of girls behind because of what I wanted.”
“Which was what?”
His mouth pulled to one side. “To be the hero.”
“Look, I haven’t been honest with you. I wish I had been, now that I know you.”
“Now that you know me?” he repeated.
“I know it’s in your nature, but I don’t need you to save me. I just need a little help to save myself.”
He breathed out a laugh and looked away. “Don’t we all?” He swallowed and then nodded. “Okay then.”
I sat up. “Okay what?”
“After my tour here, I’m going to take you back with me.”
“Are you serious?” I sniffed.
The skin around his eyes tightened as he thought about what he was going to say. “If you promise to be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt, and I don’t want them to be hurt either. We can’t show up and interrupt their lives.”
“That’s not what I want.”
He stared at me and then dipped his head once, satisfied that I was telling the truth.
“Taylor”—I felt my eyes filling with tears again—“are you screwing with me? You’re really going to let me come with you?”
He scanned over my face. “I have one more condition.”
My face fell. Of course, there was a catch. This was the part where he was going to ask for sex. He’d already said he didn’t want a relationship, and that was the only thing I had to offer.
“What?” I said through my teeth.
“I wanna hike Barr Trail up Pikes Peak. None of the guys will go up with me.”
I puffed out a breath of relief. “Pikes Peak. That’s your condition?”
He shrugged. “I know you’ve hiked it before. A few times.”
“I’m probably one of the few locals who has.”
“Exactly. Will you hike it with me?”
“Really?” I wrinkled my nose, dubious.
He looked around, confused. “Is that stupid?”
I shook my head. “No.” I threw my arms around him and squeezed, pressing my cheek against his. His skin was soft, except for the stubbly parts. “It’s perfectly reasonable.”
His arms snaked around me, his muscles tense. “Not really. You don’t know how much hell my brothers are going to give me for bringing a girl home—especially a girl I’m not fucking.”
I pulled back, looking at him. “I’m the first girl you’ll be bringing home?”
“Yeah,” he said, frowning.
“We’ll just tell them that we’re friends. No big deal.” I lay back against him, nestling into his side.
He pulled the blanket up and around me. “Yeah,” he said with a sigh, “I’m going to end up punching one of my brothers over this.”
“What? Like it’d be the first time?” I teased.
He poked me in the ribs, and I squealed. The sound made him cackle.
He quieted. “I’m sorry … about what happened to you. And I’m sorry about Don. I tried. I saw the look on your face. I didn’t want you to lose him.”
“He was a good Papa,” I said, leaning my head back against his shoulder.
“Nope. No more seats left on the Cog Rail,” I said, glancing down at Taylor.
He was bent at the waist, grabbing his knees.
“Look,” I said.
The peaks and valleys below us were spread out for miles under a blanket of green that turned bluish farther out. We were above the clouds. We were above everything.
Taylor took a swig from his canteen and then let it fall to his hip from the thick green strap hanging from his shoulder and across his chest. He pulled the black fleece pullover over his head that he’d had tied around his waist for most of the climb, and then he returned his Oakley sunglasses back over his eyes.
“It’s gorgeous, but so was Lightning Point.” He turned toward the building behind us. “There’s a fucking gift shop up here? Really?” His breath was still labored, so he took another drink of water. “A gift shop and no way down.”
“And a restaurant. I thought you interagency guys were supposed to be in shape?”
“I’m in shape,” he said, standing a bit taller. “Almost thirteen miles of uphill rocky terrain, breathing thinner air, isn’t part of my daily workout.”
“Maybe you should quit smoking,” I said, arching an eyebrow.
“Maybe you should start.”
“It’s bad for you.”
“So is that energy bar full of high-fructose corn syrup and saturated fat you ate an hour ago.”
I pointed at a gray-haired gentleman posing with his wife at the Summit Point sign. “He’s not whining.”
Taylor’s face screwed into disgust. “He probably drove up here.” He put his hands on his hips and took in the landscape. “Wow.”
“Exactly,” I said.
Both times that I’d hiked Barr Trail were with my parents, and we were some of the only locals who had hiked the Peak once, much less twice. My parents were always passionate about seizing opportunities, and failing to hike a famous trail that was practically in our backyard when hundreds of thousands would travel to experience it would have most certainly been a missed opportunity.
That was back when I had been their Falyn—the girl they felt died the night they’d found me in the bathroom, crouched and sweaty, praying for help I couldn’t ask for. But the Falyn they had known didn’t die. She never existed, and that was probably what was so hard for them to accept—that they’d never known me at all. Now, they never would.
Taylor and I ambled about the summit. People were talking, but it was quiet. There was too much space to fill with voices. Taylor took pictures of us with his cell phone, and then he asked the older couple we’d spoken about before to take our photo at the summit sign.
“You’ve got to get a cell phone,” Taylor said. “Why not just get one of those pay-as-you-go phones?”
“I save all my money that doesn’t go to bills.”
“But think about all the pictures you’ve been missing out on.” He held up his phone. “I’m holding these hostage.”
I shrugged. “People have forgotten to use their memories. They look at life through the lens of a camera or the screen of a cell phone instead of remembering how it looks, how it smells”—I took a deep breath through my nose—“how it sounds”—my voice echoed over the smaller peaks below—“how it feels.” I reached out to touch his upper arm.
Something familiar sparked in his eyes, and I pulled away, stuffing my hands in the front pouch of my hoodie.
“Those are the kinds of things I want to keep, not a photograph.”
“When we’re their age,” Taylor said, gesturing to the older couple, “you’ll be glad we have the photograph.”
I tried not to smile. He probably didn’t mean it the way it sounded to me.
Taylor kicked at my foot. “It was a good day. Thanks for riding my ass all the way up.”
“I knew you could do it.”
“I’m just glad I did it with you.”
We locked eyes for an indeterminate amount of time. I knew I should look away, that it was awkward and weird that we were just staring at each other, yet I couldn’t seem to find the desire to look at anything else.
He took a step. “Falyn?”
“Yeah?”
“Today wasn’t just good. It might be my best day so far.”
“Like … ever?”
He thought for a moment. “What if I said yes?”
I blinked, gripping the strap of my backpack. “We’d better head down.”
Disappointment came over Taylor’s face. “That’s it? I tell you that you’re my best day, and all you can say to me is,
Let’s go
?”
I fidgeted. “Well … I didn’t bring a tent. Did you?”
He stared at me in disbelief and then lifted up his hands, exasperated. “Maybe we can hitch a ride from the Summit House employees?”
I shook my head. “No, but we can hitch from there,” I said, pointing toward the highway.