Grounded (Up in the Air, #3)(104)

Mr. Desolate





JAMES

I could have wished that the twenty minute drive was just a blur for me, but of course it wasn’t. It was the longest drive of my life. I died a million little deaths on that drive, my mind going to the darkest places.

I even found myself cursing God, when I’d always been the most agnostic soul. Why did he hate me so much? I wondered angrily. First he took my parents, who I’d adored, and now I’d found a home and a family again, one that I coveted and worshipped with a single-minded purpose. I couldn’t bear the thought that I would lose her just when I’d found her. I rejected the thought. This couldn’t be happening. If her father had attacked her, surely the security had subdued him before he could have touched her. There was no acceptable alternative.

I watched the clock on the dash for the entire drive. Clark ran red lights, weaved through traffic, and drove like his life depended on it. He made good time, and we were pulling into her neighborhood less than fifteen minutes after we’d gotten into the car.

I was jumping out of the car before it had stopped, rushing to the front door. It was locked, and I cursed as I dug out my keys. Absently I noted that Clark took another route, jumping the fence into the backyard while I entered the house. It was where she’d been when I’d been talking to her, so I looked inside first.

The first few rooms were empty, and I heard sirens drawing close as I scanned the kitchen.

Clark was standing in front of the back door that led into the yard from the bedroom when I stepped inside. My gut clenched, nearly doubling me over. The back door had been open…

I rushed forward, but Clark moved to stop me. He caught me before I reached the door.

I fought him in earnest. There were no seconds to waste.

“Please, James,” he said in a soft voice I barely recognized as coming out of him. “You don’t want to see what’s back there. No one should have to see that. The paramedics are here. Let’s let them in to do their jobs.”

I heard a horrible whimper of a noise as though from a distance, barely noting that it had escaped from my own throat.

He would only say a thing like that if there was nothing to be done, and clearly Bianca was not in the house.

“Is she back there?” I asked him, my voice breaking on the words. It felt like every part of me was breaking.

He nodded, and a tear ran down his cheek. “You can’t do anything for her, James, but you can save yourself the pain of seeing her like that.”

Of course, I couldn’t stay away. I refused to accept what his words implied, even as I felt my own face growing wet with tears.

“Let me by,” I told him, a quaver in my voice. “I have to be with her.”

He bowed his head and let me pass, seeing my resolve.

The sight that greeted me literally brought me to my knees.

There hadn’t been a second since I’d met her that I felt as though I’d taken her for granted. I’d loved her, I’d treasured her, I’d coveted her, and adored every inch of her, but it still didn’t feel like it had been enough. I’d misstepped with her, I’d screwed up plenty, but we’d been working through it all. Life could have been perfect. All we’d needed was more time…

I crawled to her, only distantly noting that hers was not the only body lying in the small backyard.

She was on her back, her head turned sharply to the side, obscuring one side of her face. What was showing of her face was strangely intact, almost peaceful. Her hair was spread around her, the pale blonde strands now wet and dyed red with blood. I tried to tell myself that she might be fine, that she could survive this, but I could see clearly from where the blood pooled that it must be a head wound.

Raw sounds of anguish tore out of me with every movement as I made my way to her.

Lightly, carefully, as though she were made of glass, I held her hand and sobbed. I wouldn’t survive this. I didn’t want to survive this. There was nothing in the world that I wanted to live for after enduring this.

For the first time in my life, I began to pray. For her life or my death, I didn’t know. I would have taken either just then.

I didn’t even look up as the paramedics arrived in force. I only noticed the body that had been lying beside hers as it was shifted away. Apparently, the paramedics weren’t going to try to help that one, since it was missing a head. Its massive torso was riddled with holes, and I perceived that it had been her father. His death gave me no satisfaction. It wasn’t enough, and certainly, he hadn’t died in time to spare her.

How had it come to this? I wondered wretchedly.

My vision was blurred and I just couldn’t bring myself to focus on anything but that hand. It was limp in mine, but unscathed, and if I looked up, I knew there was a good chance I’d find answers that I wasn’t willing to accept. Somehow, uncertainty was something to cling to when the worst-case scenario was so much more likely than the alternative.

A paramedic was crouched on the other side of her, but I couldn’t look directly at him, couldn’t let myself see what he found as he swiftly checked her vitals.

The paramedic called out loudly. I didn’t catch what he said. My mind wasn’t processing words just then. I was still focused with a single-minded purpose on that lovely hand. There was no telling how long I crouched there, motionless with dread, trying to prolong the moments, telling myself she would be fine, but filled with a stark desolation that made it hard to even breathe.