Genesis Lost - Books 1 - 6, page 84
I watched her grow smaller in front of me and hopeless and hurt. Her hand slipped off my shoulder and bounced against her hip. It dangled there as if detached from the rest of her body, the only moving thing on her otherwise struck-dead self.
“You’ll be looked after,” I blurted. “You won’t ever have to worry about food, or wood or… or safety.”
“And Rose?” Something in her tone turned the pit of my stomach into a boiling, aching mess.
“I’ll try my best to be a good dad. She’s my daughter, Darya.”
“Because that’s what others think?”
“No! No, no, no.” I took a step closer. Reassuring her Rose was one of the best things ever coming into my life. “Everything I said about loving her was true. I love her as if she was mine. No. She is mine. Now go to Autumn, get her and take her home.”
The large door gave a creak, and Adair hurried back inside, the way his steps slowed, proving the air inside the longhouse had turned thick and toxic.
My wife put on a smile, sad but thicker than a bullet-proof vest. She took my hand into hers. “You will be a great, great dad.” Then she slipped her hand off my fingers and disappeared through the door. And with her, the only thing I ever cared about.
“If I interrupted something then —”
“We were done anyway.” I turned away from him and walked up to the table, taking a few deep breaths. They did little, and the pain all but burned through my organs. “Did you brief the scouts?”
“Yeah, but there’s something else.” He waved at his holo-band, throwing white and gray pixels between us. “Oriel had that cool idea to connect to one of the remaining satellites. He checked the coordinates, and this is what he got.”
“Ok, help me here. What am I looking at?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. See this here?” He pointed at a smudge, too irregular to be a roof. Also too black. “We figured it might be some sort of old shack, or perhaps a vehicle. But neither one would show up this dark in winter.”
I let my finger glide across the image, pointing out the little dimension the surrounding area offered. “Yup, and the trees over here are covered in snow. So is that road over there. Whatever it is, it doesn’t belong in the area. It should be covered in snow if it did.”
“Unless…” Adair stabbed the air with his index finger. “Unless something melted the snow in that spot.”
“A fire pit?”
He let his finger tab against his teeth now. “That’s what Oriel suggested, but I said it’s too big for that. Would’ve been a huge ass fire otherwise, considering this thing is like… what? Ten times the size of our fire pit outside?” He shut down the projection and put his hands inside his pockets. “Whatever it is, we can see something’s odd about the area. I was thinking to dispatch the scouts tonight. And go with them.”
“I don’t like that idea at all,” I said, letting myself drop onto one of the benches. “I need you and the guys around in the next few weeks until I got a better handle on the people again. Besides, you’re responsible for looking after Ruth.”
He took a deep breath and let the air rush out it short, interrupted sputters. “It’s not like she would be alone. My sister is still there. And I believe Ruth wouldn’t mind getting a little break from me.” Adair tried to smile, but it was almost as if the attempt caused him pain.
“She’s difficult, huh?”
“Actually, she’s pretty easy,” he mumbled and gave a lighthearted scoff, not matching those worry-lines above his eyebrows at all. “Anyway, we will be back tomorrow afternoon. I don’t think they’ll come for your head just yet.”
Suddenly, the idea of losing my head sounded a lot less scary than having to face my wife again. Look into her eyes once more, heartbreak and confusion fading the green into something pale and dull.
“I sent her away.” It had leaked out from me like a nasty, little secret. Forming a black puddle of self-pity and regret right in front of Adair. Of all people, it had to be Adair who was there at that very moment. What did he know about the pain of losing someone you loved?
“Might be better that way. I’m sure it took guts,” he said quick and to the point.
He had trimmed his vowels short and sharp, making me jealous about how certain he sounded. Whatever confidence I had felt a moment ago, now turned on me and slapped that stupid face of mine. It didn’t take guts. All this needed was a coward like me.
Twenty-Four
Darya
The cold rocked my body. Or perhaps it was the fact that Rowan had sent me away. Whatever had happened came with something dark looming over it, wearing down on me without a name or an explanation.
Another step.
More distance between Rowan and me.
My feet stalled.
I wanted to turn around and confront him. Understand why. Because confusion never plunked down heavier on me than it did at that moment. Something inside told me, no, screamed there had to be more to it.
No, keep walking.
It’s not like things weren’t complicated enough already to justify his decision. Many months ago, I ran. Now I had to face the consequences, no matter how hard they squeezed my chest.
Dipping the white-capped pines in a glister, the midday sun shone through the thinned branches. I sunk my boots into the wet snow, meltwater pecking on my head, churning foolish ideas.
I passed a few people of my own damn Clan, their mumbles and whispers coming on like the wind before a storm. Sure enough, the more distance I brought between us with quick steps, the nastier the storm grew. Their voices turned violent, whipping offensive comments my way. The walk to Autumn’s and Max’s cabin never seemed as steep as it did that day.
I gave three desperate and painful knocks against their pewter steel door, mumbled cries pushing through from whatever was going on behind it.
Max opened, his forehead in wrinkles. “Thank god you’re here. Rose won’t take her bottle. Slapped it out of my hands at least three times, and now she’s super fussy and upset.”
“Did you warm it up?” I asked and stepped inside, leaving my coat on the makeshift wardrobe in the shape of a crooked nail in the wall. “If the milk isn’t warm enough, she’ll get a tummy ache, so she usually refuses it right away.”
“As per Rowan’s instructions.” Autumn walked up to me, her hands and arms wrestling Rose’s restless legs. “But we won’t have to worry about that anymore, do we? She’s your problem now.”
She plopped Rose against my chest and handed me the bottle, almost cool to the touch.
“This milk wasn’t warm enough,” I said.
Max crossed his arms in front of his chest and shook his head. “Well, it was twenty minutes ago. That’s how long we’ve been trying to get her to eat. She’s clearly hungry. Just refuses to take it from us.”
Rose gave another high-pitched screech which bounced against the bare walls and echoed through the empty home. The tiles on the floor lacked the warmth of rugs, not to mention the non-existence of most all furniture pieces. Going by the sparkle in their eyes, excited about starting a brand spanking new family, they didn’t seem to mind much.
“Got a couch?” I asked.
“Not yet,” Autumn said, pulling a step ladder out from the cupboard underneath the unfinished stairs. “You can use this. Whatever it takes to make her stop crying. It’s driving me insane.”
“We have to warm up the bottle again.”
“Yeah, about that.” Max gave Autumn an embarrassed glanced from the corner of his eyes. “I kinda might have forgotten to clear the snow off the collectors. Our battery bank went dry a few minutes ago. We already sent Peggy to fetch Uncle Peter so he can help me clear them.”
“He’s still getting used to having to work for electricity,” Autumn said, a taunting smile lining her lips.
“Yeah,” Max mumbled, “still getting used to it.”
I sat and placed Rose across my lap, cradling her head in the pit of my elbow. She rooted for the nipple of the bottle as soon as I offered it, paused for a moment, then began to suck. Her face scrunched up at the taste of the cold milk, but she continued without another fuss.
“Guess it wasn’t the milk. Probably hates us,” Max said, the humorous tone of his voice just barely masking his concern.
Autumn pushed herself in front of him, taking his arms and wrapping them around her waist. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’ll do amazing with our kids.”
“Kids… man, I still can’t believe it will be two of them.” He gave a subdued laugh, his gaze drifting off into the room. “My mom once joked about having twins. Told my dad over dinner that having me and Nathalie was like overeating on a Sunday roast. Said she enjoyed it, but in the end, she felt like she might have overdone it a little, and would remind herself not to do it again.”
The room fell silent for a bit, and Max closed his eyes as if he tried to relive the moment in his thoughts. That Rose might never get to enjoy something like it punched against my heart, making me crouch over her little body.
“Rowan and I will divorce,” it blurted out of me, leaving a rancid taste along my gums.
The silence continued, except for the quick gasp Autumn took. She gave Max a questioning look, but he only shrugged his shoulders, his wide eyes rolling around in their sockets. I didn’t have the energy to question his reaction. It all went into easing the pain.
Autumn stepped away from her husband and kneeled beside me, leaving a large gap between us and me looking straight at my past. My sister-in-law wouldn’t forgive me. One of the few who knew the truth about what happened in the Districts. If she wouldn’t forgive, how would others ever?
“He will come around,” she said in a voice that left no doubt it was well-meant but not heartfelt.
“No, he won’t,” I said, wiping a tear from my eye before it would rain down on my baby. Losing my shit in front of everyone and bawling my eyes out? What right did I have to that?
I left Rowan over a year ago — thinking he’d take me back was stupid to begin with. The shaking returned, and for a second I feared I’d throw up onto Autumn’s not-yet-sealed oak floors.
“I mean, he did,” I went on. “When we traveled to the Clan of the Mountains, he did. But everything has changed now, and there won’t be any going back.”
Autumn threw Max a reproachful look. “You knew he wanted to call off the divorce?”
“Not exactly,” he said, waving his hand about as if it might deflect Autumn’s now cold stare. “But I kinda figured, why else would he show up at the clinic? It’s not like you get a semen analysis done just because the mood hits you.”
“That’s what he did?” I asked, something inside me turning numb and transfixed, my voice dropping into a low mumble. “I never thought he would do something like that.”
“Oh, he wasn’t too willing, I can guarantee you that. Guess the fact that River had himself tested made it less humiliating for him. Acted like a big baby when —”
“What were the results?” it rushed out of me, hardening my stomach as soon as the words were out. Why would it matter to me now? “You know what… never-mind. It’s not like it’s any of my business anymore. Don’t feel like you have to answer.”
Max gave me a cast-down glance. “I wouldn’t have, anyway.”
“Yeah, because of the confidentiality.”
“No.” He sucked in his upper lip and let it go in a noisy smack. “It’s not my place to tell. That’s entirely between you and him, and I think he should be the one sharing it with you.”
I let out a sharp breath and picked up Rose, pressing her chest against mine while tapping my palm against her back. “Well, he didn’t and he won’t. Fact is, we will divorce, but he wants me and Rose to stay here.”
Everyone watched me, including my daughter. Something paralyzing crept up my spine, grabbing me by the shoulders. Autumn had worked one of her eyebrows up, spelling out the obvious for me: staying was the best thing I might do. Not for me. For Rose.
“That’s insane,” Max said. “I get he wants to make sure you and Rose are taken care of, but how are you supposed to stay here, surrounded by people who —”
“Not insane at all,” Autumn said, pushing herself up to full height and pointing at me. “Where is she supposed to go? And with a baby girl? Women can’t… they can’t just leave and live on their own.”
Max wiped his palm over his face, his expression as desperate as Autumn’s was furious. “Have you considered what life would be like for her? People are avoiding her as if she had the small-pox.”
A familiar shake took hold of me once more. Definitely not from the cold now. Shunned by my own Clan, I would have to live out my sad, lonely life among people who hated me. The outcast, the snitch, the traitor. That would be me. Alive only because they thought I once gave birth to the chieftain’s daughter.
Goosebumps wrapped me in a blanket of disgust — I saw them pointing at me, felt the tips of their fingers dig into my skin.
My mind wouldn’t quit racing, showing me future scenes of a recluse at the edge of society.
Hated. Avoided. Loathed.
Pain needled my heart.
Realization woke my conscience.
Rowan meant well, but did he ever consider what Rose’s childhood would look like? Growing up as the daughter of a chieftain was tough enough — no need to bring a traitor mother into it.
He had said he would look after us. Have everything we need. But what about friends, kinship and love? What about a place where we belonged? Where I belonged?
Autumn took a deep breath but still didn’t hold back a quick scoff. “Small-pox is still better than worrying about your child’s safety every single day, and the people would think Rose isn’t his child after all if he would let Darya take the baby away. I don’t even know why we argue about that. It’s not like she’s got a choice. There’s nowhere else to go for her.”
“The Clan of the Mountains,” I said, the sudden confidence in my voice making me sound like a stranger to myself.
Autumn took a step back and shifted away from me. “What?”
“Their chieftain offered me a home there, in case I ever needed it.”
Rowan’s words replayed like a distant whisper at first, growing closer with each breath I drew. I was a mother now, and I was bearing a mothers responsibility. Number one? Rose was the only thing that mattered. No room for sentiments, hurt feelings, and broken hearts.
The weight of this responsibility trembled my fingers, and I quickly folded them in front of my chest. I could stay here and try to make the best of it, my Clan being my only worry — day in, day out.
Or I could give Rose a life at the Clan where she belonged — without the shadow of her mother’s actions looming over her future. A life without me.
“You can’t trust those people,” Autumn snarled.
“Rowan trusts them enough to let one of our people marry their chieftain,” Max said, pushing his chest out knowing well he had a point. “So why not give Rose and Darya a chance to make themselves a new life there?”
“Wait…” Autumn shook her head and blinked her eyes like an old digital camera in sports-mode. “Are you suggesting she takes Rose with her?”
“Did we ever talk about anything else?” Max asked. “You can’t expect a mother to leave her child behind, can you?”
Autumn flung her hands onto her hips and gave a mini-stomp with her heel. “She is his daughter, too!”
“Except that she isn’t,” Max said like a boy who talked back to his mother after she sent him to bed without dinner.
Autumn eased her posture. “Ever heard of that old saying? Like… every man can be a father, but not everyone has the guts to be a dad? Or something like that?”
Max arched a brow. “But Rowan isn’t the father?”
“God damn it, Max, you’re driving me insane. I get he isn’t the father. I’m just trying to say that he’s her dad nonetheless, and a damn good one at that. You know how it would destroy him if Darya took her away from him. You know it!”
Max turned silent and grew small as if the reasoning inside him shrank because it couldn’t argue with feelings of the heart.
“You understand he loves her, right?” Autumn took my hands into hers, a plea filling her eyes. “I’ll be a mother soon, but I won’t pretend I get what kind of agony you’re going through. But I want you to know… I want you to really understand how much he loves her. And that he would protect her with his life. Nobody would ever hurt her. She would be safe. Always.”
Yes, Rose would be safe, wrapped in Rowan’s cloak of protection. But there was another message clinging to the edge of Autumn’s words. One only those could hear who knew how much her brother would suffer if I took Rose away from him.
“You owe him that much, don’t you think?” she added.
My heart punched against the lump in my throat. Everyone around me turned into a blur. I broke Rowan’s heart three times.
Once when I ran.
Once when he met Rose.
Once when I returned.
Ripping her away from him would break his heart once more — a fourth time. Something I promised would never happen. Sweat formed along my hairline — nothing but a confirmation. I knew what I had to do. After everything Rowan did for me, for us, my senses assured me it was only right.
“I need you to buy me some time,” I said. “Not much, just enough for me to leave unnoticed.”
Autumn gave a nod.
Crack.
The sound of my heart splitting in two.
I’d leave both halves behind. One with the man I loved. One with our daughter. As for me, I’d have to learn to live without one beating inside my chest.
Twenty-Five
Rowan
My heart produced the pain quicker than my lungs could breathe it away. They hyperventilated, sending tingles through my body and fading the fucking maps in front of me.
