Absolution(101)



“Can I help you?” he asked, keeping his tone conversational.

“I’m looking for a friend.” Even his voice reeked of trouble. “Maybe you know him – Jack?”

“There used to be a Jack here, years ago. Haven’t seen him recently, though,” he lied, following his gut instinct.

The guy nodded, but Callum had the feeling he wasn’t convinced. “Any chance he might be coming back around here anytime soon?”

Callum snorted derisively, mentally crossing his fingers that he was doing the right thing. “Unlikely. Haven’t heard from him in years.”

The guy nodded and Callum got the impression he was waiting for something. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, then up to the house.

“Hey, if you want to leave a number with me, just in case, I’ll be sure to pass it on if he shows up,” he offered, shrugging casually.

The guy appeared to think it over, then started backing away. “Nah, it’s fine. Thanks anyway.”

Callum watched him lumber across the lawn towards a car parked across the street. Someone else was in the car but he couldn’t see for the late afternoon sun reflecting off the windshield. As soon as the big guy got in, it pulled out onto the street slowly and drove away.



Ally stretched, getting comfortable. She closed her eyes as the warm breeze rustled the branches overhead, feeling more content that she had felt in a long time. Her stomach was full and the relaxed air that had settled over them during lunch had hung around, lulling her into a contemplative mood.

She and Jack seem to have found a middle-ground – somewhere they could talk and be themselves where it wasn’t so awkward. The roller-coaster ride of the past few days was exhausting, but it finally appeared that things were settling down.

She glanced sideways at him, sitting in the lounger next to her in her back yard. The sun filtered through the leaves above them, dappling his features. With his eyes closed like that, he looked peaceful. Taking advantage, she let her gaze linger over him; long legs, crossed casually at the ankles, hands laced over his abdomen, the complete absence of worry lines on his forehead, the fading bruises marring his skin. Again, it felt as if the last four years had just been some kind of nightmare, that they had never actually happened, and everything was as it should be.

She let herself believe that for a moment, allowing the warmth to fill her heart as she let go of all the concerns that had plagued her. Without that anchor, she felt lighter – so light, she felt like she might float away. It was a comforting thought and she smiled to herself as Jack uncrossed his ankles, his eyes still closed.

She glanced down at her own legs. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her crutches on the ground next to her chair. Suddenly the fantasy was over and reality crashed into her.

Why couldn’t things have been different?

She pushed the thought aside, trying to convince herself that this was all she wanted, that being near him was enough. She should be grateful to finally have that. Glancing over at him again, she found him staring back at her curiously. Not wanting to ruin the moment, she forced a smile. “What?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “You tell me?”

She shook her head and mentally wiped her mind clean, just in case her thoughts were written all over her face. With the way he was looking at her, she wondered if it was too late. “It’s nothing, I was just thinking.”

“I could see that. Do you want to think out loud so I can follow along?”

The habits of the past few years were quick to make an appearance. Distraction. Sleight of hand. Re-direction. A burning question that wouldn’t go away.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked finally.

“Sure.”

A single word, swimming in a sea of anxiety. She picked up on it immediately, but she didn’t let it stop her. “Where have you been, all this time? Where did you go?”

His jaw clenched, as if locking up the words, afraid they would leak out. Tearing his gaze away from hers, he stared at his boots. She watched his chest rising and falling with each breath. “Does it really matter? I wasn’t here. Isn’t that enough?”

He was right, it didn’t matter. And yet, in so many other ways, it did. And it wasn’t enough.

The leaves rustled overhead but it was no longer soothing. It reminded her of static electricity and it seemed to charge the air around them.

“What are you so afraid of?” she asked.

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