Fury (27 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Finley

             
The morning came brilliant and dazzling. The day laid before me full of hope and gorgeousness. I was healing, helping those who were just like me, and in love with someone I never thought would love me back.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d been okay with that. I knew my worth. Through soul-searching and heart-building, I’d built myself up. I’d chipped away at the hard exterior, rough sense of self, and years of built-up hate, and exposed myself to the woman I’d become. Yet with that cleansing came a vulnerability I didn’t know I’d had, scars put upon me I did nothing to merit.

So, yes, I knew my worth. I knew I was worth anything and everything. I knew it. But I did need to make amends with those stripped-down burdens. I needed to shake them off, shed them at my feet, step out of them, and walk away without looking back.

It was a feat I could have done by myself. I was strong enough, but just because I could do it by myself, didn’t mean I had to.

In walked Ethan. Someone I’d fought hard to forget. Someone I’d crushed so hard on at one point in my life, I’d been convinced I’d been in love with him then. But knowing what it meant to love and to be loved, I discovered I’d only really been at the tipping point. It was a beautiful house, the tipping point, with its stolen glances, butterfly-induced nearness, and intoxicating presences.

And Ethan
was
that house. I’d backed down his hill, tumbled and fell, and rolled my way back down to its understory depths, content to find a
different
tipping point, secure I would discover a new place to climb, but that was not what fate had laid out for me, it seemed. No matter how I fought her, she was a resolute mercenary.

And so, reluctantly at first, I hiked up my skirts and marched upward, but this time with the help of Ethan’s hand. This time
he
pulled me to
him
, shouldered my weight, up to the tipping point, that place bright and that lived under the sun. He’d wrapped his arms around my shoulders and we both fell, on toward the other side. The side full of green, burgeoning love. The side with lush, verdant, and passionate adoration with its redwood possibilities.

I showered and dressed for the day as usual, but my heart felt heavy. I thought of the envelope full of Ethan’s hair and took on that concern once more.
My poor Ethan
, I thought.
What secrets he must keep. What heavy concerns sit cumbersome on your shoulders?

I helped Sister, who’d more than likely already been up for hours, finish laundry and set up the common room for school lessons. We laughed and joked with one another the entire time. She was eager to know the details of my “courtship,” as she’d put it, with Ethan, and I was in no hurry to divulge. I told her of his sweet dedication and thoughtful considerations but kept our tortured business to ourselves, as it was just that.

She sighed appropriately and fanned herself at all the right parts.

“Do you like him?” I asked her as we set the dining tables for breakfast.

“I really do,” she said but stopped folding a napkin.

“
But?
” I asked.

She continued with her task, remembering herself. “I can’t place my finger on it,” her French accent purred, “but there is something in that boy that gives me peace, security, but also frightens me.” She looked at me, earnest. “Is that not rubbish?” she laughed.

I swallowed back the fear her words built upon my heart and tried to smile, but failed miserably.

“My dear, I did not mean to make you uneasy. Come,” she said, extending her arms and rushing over to me, her skirts swishing about her. She bent me to her height and hugged me in that way a woman who knew how to love better than anyone in the world could hug. She ran her hands along my waves, smoothing it all out as she did so because she was a genuine mother at heart, despite her vows. Or, perhaps, because of them.

She released me and smiled so wide it didn’t seem like it could fit in her petite face, yet it was a pretty smile, a feminine smile, full of kindness and wisdom, sweetness, and understanding.

Ethan came into the room at that moment, his height an imposing thing, his presence a little appalling. He looked run-down with bags beneath his beautiful grey eyes. His shoulders looked glutted, straining against his T-shirt. His hands were fisted at his side. He breathed as though he’d run the entire length of the beach to me. His eyes frantically searched the room and when he caught my gaze, he stilled.

“Finley,” he gritted with that unbelievably deep voice that sent shivers up and down my body. He took one large, loud step with his boot, heading my direction, before noticing Sister was in the room.

“Oh,” he started, “I’m sorry, Sister. Hello, how are you?” he asked, stopping short and tucking his muscular arms behind him.

“I’m well, thank you, Mister Moonsong,” she answered back, but her eyes studied him anew. Finally, she smiled at him. “I’ll leave you two to greet the other.” She looked at us sternly. “Keep your hands clean,” she told us, but her ornery grin appeared as she left through the door toward the common room.

“Ethan,” I said, smiling at him.

I expected a smile in return, but he didn’t give me one. Instead, he rushed me, threw his arms around my waist, and buried his face in my neck. We stayed like that for quite some time. I refused to pull away until he did, so I wrapped my arms around his own neck tightly, letting him know we could stay there all day if he needed to.

Finally, he pulled away but held my hands in his. “Good morning,” he said.

I reached up and ran my thumbs beneath his eyes.

              “You look so tired,” I whispered. “Why don’t you run back and get some rest. We don’t have much to do anyway.”

He shook his head. “No, I’ll, uh, just stay here with you, if that’s okay?”

“Okay, of course,” I told him.

              “What were we supposed to do today?” he asked me.

              “Well, Father had another bust planned but it fell through. Our informant’s told us the cell has no children they’re aware of. So strange, right?”

              He nodded. “Yes, strange,” he parroted.

              “Detective Tran called, though, says another girl was dropped off at his station early this morning. He can’t locate her family so she’s coming here.”

              “Cool,” he said, but his face looked ill.

              “Are you sure you don’t want to lay down? I hope you didn’t catch something.”

              “No, I’m fine. Really, Fin. Just glad to be near you.”

We started walking toward the common room together.

              “Tran is so bewildered by it all. He says he’s going to try to install cameras.”

              “What does he want with the guy, I wonder?” he mused.

              “Not sure. Maybe just to talk with him. Find out where he’s getting all those girls?”

              Ethan’s face lit up with a large smile. “And how do they know it’s not a woman who’s dropping them off?”

              “Because one of the first girls described a man, remember?”

              “Yeah, but that could have been a fluke.”

              “I don’t think so,” I told him.

              “Maybe the locals are seeing it can be done and they’re finding and turning them in anonymously but as a collective.”

              I shook my head. “That’s not likely.”

              “Why not?” he insisted. “It could happen.”

I looked at him, confused.

              “I-I guess,” I answered, though not believing that for a second.

              Ethan fixed his expression. “Well, you’re right, that’s probably not likely. Anyway, who cares how they got there. Let’s just be glad they got there.”

              “You’re right,” I told him, squeezing his hand.

Ethan

              I couldn’t believe how careless I’d been. Akule would have been ashamed of me. I’d thought I was being vigilant, but the community that surrounded the traffickers was too tightly knit. I knew this. I was instantly recognizable too, which didn’t help at all. Too tall to be mistaken for anyone else; it was only a matter of time before I was caught.

              My hands trembled at the memory of sliding the trafficker’s body off my knives. I knew why I’d needed to do it, knew the little girl had been my priority, but nothing could ever prepare you for taking another human’s life.

              I remember seeing an interview back home while watching TV with my dad about this soldier who’d been stationed in Iraq. He knew his job had to be done and he’d told the interviewer he felt he’d been prepared for that job, mentally aware of the task that had to be done, but then the soldier went on to speak about the feeling that first kill earned him.

              There’d been a known terrorist they’d been monitoring by drone and by foot for quite some time. They’d followed him and caught him planting IEDs along well-used and well-known American tank and humvee roads but had yet to catch or kill him. He was shifty and intelligent.

The soldier had been tasked to watch those roads and one day, on his drone patrol, he’d recognized the terrorist. The man was burying a bomb set to detonate and kill American soldiers. Without thinking, the soldier said he painted his target and sent in a fighter pilot.

In less than thirty seconds, the terrorist was dust. There was much celebrating and backslapping, but that soldier said he’d never forget the haunting aches in his chest knowing he was responsible for taking another’s life, even in defense of his fellow soldiers.

The interviewer asked him if he had a chance, would he do it all over again? The soldier, without hesitation, replied yes, but that it didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of the value of a human life.

See? Killing these men to save those girls is a necessary evil. They’re killing themselves, really, just by being part of the operations,
I thought.
Yeah, I’m just the instrument when you think about it. Those men needed to die. They needed death.

I looked over at Finley. We’d gone outside to change a tire on one of the bikes that had gone flat. Her hair whipped around her face as she sat on her ankles, her hands tucked under her stomach, against her legs, waiting for me to ask for a tool. She was lovely. She was everything good that had ever happened to me, and I loved her with the fire of a million suns.

For her. I’ll do it for her
.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Finley

             
We were given a few free hours while the girls were in lessons. We told Sister we’d be swimming in the cove right outside of Slánaigh if she needed us. She promised she’d try to bring the girls down for a swim later, if they all got their work done. This possibility sent the girls into a tizzy, making me laugh.

              “Get your work done, my loves!” I told them. “I’ll be waiting for you at the beach!”

              Pen and paper went flying as Ethan and I made our way out the door. He hadn’t brought his boardshorts so he improvised with a pair of cargos instead.

              We walked toward the water. I fought the instinct to run.

              “What’s up with you?” I asked him.

              “What?” he asked, distracted.

              “You’re actin’ all weird. Seriously, what the hell is up?”

              “I’m not acting weird,” he answered, defensive.

              “
Ethan
.”

He kept silent and walked ahead of me, reaching the water before me and shedding his T-shirt.

              “Whoa!” I said, examining his muscles. “What have you been doing?”

              “What are you talking about?”

              “Ethan, your muscles are, like, huge all of a sudden. Have you been working out when I’m not around or something?”

              “A little,” he said, sitting on the beach, resting his forearms on his knees.

              “That’s crazy. You’re working all day with me, going on busts, and then working out? Tryin’ to kill yourself or something?” I laughed.

              He whipped his head my direction. “Why would you ask me that?”

              “What?” My smiled dropped. “I just meant it’s a little much for one person to do.”

              “Oh,” he said.

              “Ethan.”

              “Let’s get in the water,” he said, standing and walking into the bay.

              “Don’t do that, dude.”

              “Do what?” he asked.

              “Ignore me like that, Ethan.”

              He turned toward me. “I’m not ignoring you, Fin.”

              “The hell you are. Is this about your hair?”             

He laughed. “You think me that shallow?”

              “Well, no, but, I mean, it was a huge part of your heritage and you’d had it for so many years. I’d thought-thought you’d kept it long because of your mom.”

              He was ankle deep in the water. His head hung when I mentioned his mom, making my gut ache. I wished I’d never said a word.

              “I did,” he answered, staring out into the bay.

              “I shouldn’t have mentioned your mom. I’m sorry.”

              “Why?” he asked, his face drawn in confusion. “I love talking about her. I loved her. I
love
her.”

              “I just thought I might have offended you was all.”

              “I could never be offended by that,” he told me softly as I joined his side. “I did wear it long because of her. She always talked about her Echo Tribe ancestry, how it defined her in so many ways, how she cherished it, and how she wanted me to be familiar with it.”

I grasped my throat.
Don’t ask him why he’d cut it
.

              He looked at me and smiled. The smile I’d been missing for a few days and didn’t know how much I’d wanted back. A little piece of my heart set at ease when I saw that smile.

              “Don’t,” he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, his eyes still on the water.

              “Don’t what?”

              “Don’t pretend like you’re not owed an explanation anymore. I belong to you, Fin. You know this. You have a right to know anything and everything about me.” He swallowed and dropped his arm, leaving me feeling ill to my stomach for some reason. “You just have to ask.”

              “
Okay
. So why did you cut your hair?” I asked him.

              He looked at me with severe eyes. “I was shedding an old skin when you cut my hair. Ridding myself of an old Ethan.”

              “I don’t like the way that sounds,” I told him. “I liked that
old Ethan
, as you put it.
I loved him
.”

              “Well, you’ll have to settle for this new one then because he’s long gone, Fin.” He paused. “He’s forever gone.”

              “You’re so confusing right now.”

              He turned toward me and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m being an asshole.” His hands found my shoulders. “Let’s test these waters, shall we?” he asked cryptically.

              I eyed him, trying to figure him out.

He’s off
.