Flawed (Blaze of Glory #2) (17 page)

“I don’t know that they will, Nat,” Stone says, indicating that I’m on speakerphone. “These are the courts we’re talking about. They’re usually pretty rigid in their rulings.”

“I don’t care,” I insist.

“Let us go with you,” Shannon says, and I shake my head. “No, this is something I need to do for myself. I need to be the one to speak to Keets.”

“Okay,” Stone agrees. “But we’re still coming. We’ll stay away unless you tell us not to, but you can’t stop us from going to New York.”

“All right,” I snap impatiently. “Be ready, we leave in an hour.”

Hanging up the phone, I spring into action and pack a bag. Within twenty minutes, Stone, Shannon and Zeke are on the doorstep, ready to go. Throwing my bag in the back, I climb into the back seat with Zeke and stare out the window at the dark sky as Stone flies down the highway. It’s a twenty-four-hour drive, but I know we’ll make it in half the time at the rate Stone is driving. I think briefly about telling him to slow down, but quickly decide against it. This is Keets we’re talking about. His life is hanging in the balance.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I silently berate myself.
You shouldn’t have fucking left him, Natalie. This is your fault. You should have fought harder, should have stayed with him. Why didn’t you tell him the truth sooner?

My nails dig into my hand, breaking the skin as I make no effort to wipe away the tears.

A hand pries open my fist and slips into mine. I turn my head to see Zeke’s encouraging smile. Squeezing it lightly, I manage a small smile in return before turning to look out the window again. I can’t lose Keets, not now when I’ve only just found him. He’s put everything on the line for everyone, never asking for anything in return. It’s our turn to be there for him.

If we’re on time.

KEETS

Although I approach Ground Zero with my head held high, my heart is heavy, dragged down by a myriad of emotions and doubt. For years I thought about how this would end up, but now that the moment is finally here, I’m no longer one hundred percent certain that I’m doing the right thing.

My steps falter as I realize I’ll never see Natalie again, but I force myself forward, nodding as I approach the memorial wall. I know deep down that I just have to get this over and done with. Within the next ten minutes, my life debt to Liz will be repaid and it will be as though I never existed. Running my fingers over the wall, I walk the entire length of it, looking at each and every name. So many people lost, so many lives destroyed. All this senseless violence; when will it ever end? I pause as I see the one name I’ve been searching for: Elizabeth Zaina. There she is, like a siren beckoning for me to go into the light.

Tears well in my eyes as my fingers lightly trace over the letters of her name, forever engraved in this plaque alongside the hundreds of others who perished that fateful day. It seems so little. It’s not enough. Never enough. She deserves so much more than her name on a fucking sheet of metal; where’s the statue they should erect in her honor? Do any of these people know that my fiancée paid the ultimate price for their lives? For their loved ones lives? If I were to tell them she laid down her life, the life of our child for complete strangers, would any of them care? Somehow, I don’t suspect that they would. They’re safe, nothing more than tourists. Chances are, they probably have no idea of the hell any of us went through that day.

Dropping to the ground beside the wall, I pull out her photo in its frame from my leather jacket pocket and set on the concrete next to me. “Here we are, Liz,” I murmur, looking at all the people as they pass us by. “Back where it all began. I’m sorry I didn’t come back before now. I guess a part of me just wasn’t ready, you know? It’s like, if I came back, this would be real, and you would really be gone. I wasn’t ready for that truth, I wasn’t ready to give you up and say goodbye.  I know it’s probably too late to tell you this, but I did this for you, you know. I never wanted to leave that day. Why did you make me leave?” Tears of anger build up inside me and I lash out at her photo. “This isn’t my fucking fault, this is
your
fault. You’re the one who made me walk out of the tower. You’re the one who insisted I leave you and save everyone else. Was our life that terrible together that you would rather die than be with me?”

Tears fall from my eyes and I dash them angrily away, glaring at curious onlookers. “Got nothing better to do?” I yell, laughing maniacally as they scurry away like cockroaches when you turn on the light. This whole thing would be funny, if it weren’t so fucking tragic. These people are about to witness a public execution, and they don’t even know it yet. If nothing else, my death will make a sensational YouTube video. I can just see the title now:
Man fails to save family, kills himself in remorse.
There’d be multi-million dollar movie deals for miles. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I mock quietly to no one in particular. My death on the big screen; how ironic for a man who just wanted to disappear quietly, to be forgotten. What would happen if Stone and Shannon saw it? Christ, what would happen if Natalie saw it? A video like that would destroy her. I know I should still be angry with her for keeping her baby a secret from me, but now that I’m literally sitting at death’s door, I can’t stay mad. In a strange, sick, twisted sort of way, I understand. I understand why she felt like she had to keep her pregnancy a secret from me, a secret from her sister. I may not agree with her decisions, but I get it. And who knows? If the roles were reversed, I probably would have done the same thing.

A rumble above me catches my attention, and I glance up in surprise as the first raindrop hits my cheek. I touch a hand to my skin, wiping away the moisture and looking at it closely. What a strange thing, to have water falling from the sky. I chuckle as I see a young woman screech in horror and hold a newspaper above her head as the rain begins to bucket down, seeing people scramble for cover. Millions of people and animals all across the world die every day from famine and drought, and these people are afraid to get wet. Turning my face to the sky, I allow the rain to wash over me and reach deep down into my darkened soul. For a moment I can almost believe that it works, but then, like always, the darkness comes rushing back, pushing me further down than I’ve ever been before. It sucks my soul free from any light, any happiness. Despair settles heavily on my shoulders and I start to shake. My hand reaches into my jacket and fingers the butt of the gun tucked safely inside. I grip it tightly, ready to end this…

“Keets!”

I look up sharply as the woman who haunts my dreams drops to the ground beside me. Blinking back the rain from my eyes, I take my glasses off to see her better. “Don’t do this,” she begs, grabbing the photo of Liz from the ground and shoving it in front of my face, forcing me to look at it. “Do you really think this is what Liz wants? For you to die?”

I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut against the truth. “You didn’t know her,” I grind out. “You have no idea what she would have wanted.”

“Keets, this is fucking ridiculous. You can’t end your life over something that wasn’t even your fault.”

“You weren’t there,” I explode, glaring up at her. “It was my fault, don’t you get it? I could have saved her and I fucking didn’t. I ran out and I left her there to die.”

“You did what you had to do to survive.”

“No, I didn’t. I could have saved her, I
should
have saved her. Did you know she was pregnant?” I laugh bitterly at the shocked look on Natalie’s beautiful face.
Oh my sweet, innocent girl, you’re finally beginning to understand that I’m beyond rescuing.
“She was,” I nod. “She was fucking pregnant with my kid, and I just ran away when they both needed me. I can see the disgust on your face, Natalie. You can try to hide it all you like, but we both know that what I did was so totally fucked up, so completely unforgiveable that I deserve to be the one that’s dead.”

“Would you really disgrace my daughter’s name in that way?” a soft voice asks. I gasp out loud as I look up to see a face I haven’t seen in fourteen long years.

“How-”

“Shannon called her,” Natalie explained, touching my arm gently. “I know this is difficult for you, so I’ll leave you guys alone to talk. I promise though, I’m not going to be far away.”

I watch her as she walks away, my mind in a tailspin. Have my friends really just gone to so much effort for me? I don’t understand, I thought for sure that when they found out I’d abandoned Liz that they’d hightail it out of here as fast as their legs could carry them. Shaking my head, I glance up as the elderly woman struggles to take a seat on the ground next to me, in the rain. Tormented by the memories that are flashing through my mind at warp speed, I don’t bother to help her, or move out of the wet weather. I guess I really am that much of a bastard. “What are you doing here, Bethy?” I ask, watching warily as rain pelts the top of the eighty year old woman. A twinge of guilt tugs at my heart but I force it back down.
She chose to be out here in this weather, I never asked her to come.

“Shannon called me,” Liz’s mom explains in a croaky voice.

Is she sick? Stupid, stupid woman for being here if she is. She’s likely to get pneumonia.
“So what?” I ask, probably sounding a lot harsher than I mean to.

“So I want to know, why are you disgracing my daughter?”

“Listen, lady,” I say hotly, feeling my temper rise. “I’m not disgracing anyone.”

“But you are,” she says softly. “I know about the letter you wrote. She told you to live.”

“So what?”

“Tell me then,” Bethy says, placing a hand on my arm. “Why would she tell you to live, if she wanted you to die?”

Her words worm their way inside my cold heart and my eyes snap open, staring at her in wonder. “What did you say?”

“Do you remember my sweet George?” she asks, leaning back against the wall and changing the subject.
“Of course I do, he’s a fine man.”

Bethy nods. “He was,” she says, and I detect the sadness in her voice straight away.

“You mean…?”

“Last year,” she says, nodding again and closing her eyes against the sting of the rain. “My sweet Georgie left me last year.”

A lump rises in my throat, and I force myself to swallow it down. Liz’s father had always been such a pleasure to be around, always the life of the party with a terrible joke. “I’m so sorry,” I manage to get out. “May I ask how he died?”

“Prostate cancer,” Bethy sighs, not opening her eyes. “He suffered terribly, but in the end there was only peace. He was able to join our daughter in the Promised Land, with his family and friends by his bedside until the end.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say again, helpless in this moment of shared grief. What do you say to a woman who has lost her best friend and lover?

“You know,” she continues, finally opening her eyes and looking at me. “When he died, I felt like I was falling in this dark hole. I was so depressed all the time, I thought I could never recover from the loss.”

I nod, but I don’t say anything. I know all too well how that feels.

“It got so bad, that I didn’t think I could go on without him. I mean, how was I meant to just get over the loss of my husband? So, one night over Christmas, I sat in bed and I swallowed thirty sleeping tablets.”

I blanch and stare at her, my mouth hanging open. “You what?”

“I did,” she nods. “I was so riddled with guilt that a man with such vibrancy and life was dead, and I was left to survive without him. I didn’t believe I deserved to live.”

“So what happened?” I ask, licking my lips.

“Oh I was found by Elizabeth’s brother, he was staying with me for the holidays. He managed to call an ambulance and they pumped my stomach. I was told I was extremely lucky to be alive. But you know what? I didn’t feel so lucky.”

“So you know how I feel then, and why I have to do this.”

“More than you know,” she says affectionately, patting my hand. “But do you know what I found most interesting? I realized that I didn’t want to die after all.”

“Well what changed you mind?” I ask her, sitting up a little straighter.

“George did,” she gives me a soft smile and then looks out into the distance, as though recalling a long forgotten memory. “He came to me in a dream, right when I considered trying to end it all again.”

“What did he say?”

“He said,” she pauses as her eyes mist over, and she digs in her pocket for a handkerchief, delicately dabbing the spot below her eyes. It’s stopped raining by now, and the sun peeks out from behind a dark cloud, shining a ray of light onto the memorial, and it’s like a bolt of warmth straight to my broken heart.

“He told me to live,” Bethy finishes, and I turn my head to gape at her. “What?” I gasp, not quite sure I heard her correctly.

“He told her to live, just like you need to live, Keets,” Natalie says, joining us once more as she kneels down in front of me. “You need to live for her. You need to live for your child. But most importantly, you need to live for yourself.”

“I don’t think I know how,” I say brokenly.