Vengeance (18 page)

He sighs.  Waves
of raven black hair falls over his bowed face, tangling in the growth
along his jaw and neck.  I have seen Bastien scratching at his
new beard and can tell that he’s not happy about it but the
Roamers aren’t about to hand him a knife to have a shave with.
 

“Eamon and I
have a touchy past.  You can imagine that we weren't exactly the
best of friends when my intentions towards you became clear.  He
was very protective of his best friend.  I don’t fault him
for that.”

I laugh.  “You
make it sound as if you two had an old fashioned brawl over me.”

When Bastien doesn’t
say anything I swallow.  “Seriously?  You two did
that?”  He turns his face away and says nothing.

“Oh
man.”  I blow out a breath and shove my hair back out of
my face, thinking for the millionth time that if the Roamers ever
did
give
Bastien a knife to shave with I will be chopping off my hair too!

“I guess I’m
starting to see why you felt erasing my memories was the easy way
out.”

“Easy
way out?”  Bastien’s head whips around.  I
blink, shocked to see tears in his eyes.  “You have no
idea what that decision cost me.  I lost everything I ever cared
about the day I walked away from you.  Nothing mattered anymore.
 I worked.  I slept.  I went through the motions but
it meant nothing.”

I press my lips
together tightly as I stare into the depths of his raw pain.  His
eyes are wide.  His hands quaking against his legs.  Blotches
of red appear on his face as he fights to hold back the tears.

“You are the
only good thing I ever had in my life.  The only thing worth
fighting for.”

A
lump forms in my throat as I swallow.  “Then why did you
stop fighting?”

He
hangs his head further, so far that it looks like his neck is broken.
“Because sometimes surrendering is the only way to truly save
the person you love.”

I
do not think I have ever seen a man endure such great pain before.  I
have seen men fall on a battlefield, heard their moans and pleas for
death, but in this moment I realize that Bastien is far worse than
any of those fallen men.  At least the grave brought them
relief, but Bastien...he is still a dead man walking.  

I stare into the
dark, listening to Bastien breathe as his chest rises and falls with
the steady rhythm of sleep.  I can feel his warmth pressed
against my back, his arm wrapped around my stomach.  Protective.
 Comforting.  Deeply unsettling.

That he loves me is
painfully obvious.  The problem is that I don’t have a
clue how to process it all.  I feel trapped, helpless to make
him feel better and yet knowing that even if I tried it wouldn’t
make a difference.  

Bastien didn’t
speak after his admission.  Instead he pulled deep within
himself, resting his head on his knees, his head bowed until night
arrived.  It didn’t take long for the cold to steal away
the day’s warmth, forcing us to seek out each other’s
company.  He was hesitant when he lay down behind me, pressing
me in close to the wall to shield me from the cold.

He lay awake for a
long time before sleep finally took him.  I could feel his
frustration and couldn’t help but wonder if it was directed
more at me or himself.  I know how hard he has tried to keep his
distance these past few days, how much choosing to leave me behind
before cost him.  At first I was ticked at him for stealing my
memories.  Who wouldn’t be?  They are a part of who I
am. But then I spent time with him.  

Bastien is not a
self-serving kind of guy.  He is kind, gentle and always willing
to give of himself for my benefit.  I don’t need my
memories to know that about him, but even still...it is hard to
accept.

I can’t sleep.
 Not now.  Probably not any time soon.  

I can’t stop
thinking about how right it feels to be in his embrace.  Instead
of being riddled with guilt, which would be the normal reaction for a
happily married woman, I find myself thinking of what it would be
like to place my hand over his, holding him close instead of pulling
away.

What
is wrong with me?
I silently chide, raising a hand to brush my hair down over my neck.
 The feel of his breath against my skin sends goosebumps along
my arms as it slips beneath the collar at my neck.  
You
are happy with Eamon.  Does it really matter what may have been
with Bastien?  He is practically a stranger!

This reasoning
sounds logical, but pressed up against him now I know that logic was
never the basis of our relationship.  I may have forgotten our
time together but I know exactly who I am and how I feel.  There
is an undeniable need to be near Bastien and it is growing with each
day that passes.  I am starting to feel more than just a basic
need for companionship or reliance.

Tears
slip between my lashes as I think over what a mess I’ve gotten
myself in to.  
I
love Eamon; there is no denying that.  I am carrying his
children, a gift that could never be undone, nor would I want it to
be, and yet...
the
fact that there is an ‘and yet’ in my thoughts frightens
me.  I wipe my nose, sniffling.

“Are you
cold?”

His whisper
surprises me and I jump instinctively.  His arm tightens around
me as he waits for me to relax once more.  “I’m
sorry.  I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I never fell
asleep.”

His simple statement
brings a smile to my lips.  “You’re sneaky.”

I can feel the
rumble of his chest through my back.  “I have my moments.”
 He presses up onto his side and I know that he is looking down
at me even though I can’t see him.  “I’m sorry
about earlier.  I never should have said--”

“No.”  I
reach out and grab his arm as he starts to pull away.  “I’m
not.”

His intake of breath
echoes in my ears.  I can feel the tension in his arm but I do
not let go.  “I do not need my memories to know that I
once loved you, Bastien.  Probably more than I should have, but
you are right.  I am married now.  I can’t change
that, even if I wanted to.”

This time when he
pulls against my grasp I let him go.  He rises to a seated
position.  The cold sweeps in to fill his place and I roll over
to face him.  “I didn’t mean for that to come across
like that--”

His hand settles
atop my shoulder and I fall silent.  His fingers clench but do
not cause pain.  It is almost as if he needs to physically keep
me at a distance for the moment.  “I knew what I asked
from Kyan would be something I had to live with.  On Alenida I
thought that I could go through with it.  That you could live
your life and never need to know my name.”  He blows out a
long breath.  I can hear him run his fingers through his hair,
his hands curling around his cheeks, scratching against his beard.
 “When Kyan asked me to come and protect you while he was
away on his honeymoon, I wanted to tell him no, to remind him of the
very reason why I fled in the first place, but he is a good man.
 Without his guidance you would have died back on Earth.  I
owed him a debt for that so I agreed, but it was not a decision that
I made lightly.”

He pauses, dragging
in several slow breaths before he continues.  “When I saw
you coming down the aisle during the wedding I knew it was a mistake.
 I shouldn’t have been there.  I just knew that when
you saw me Kyan’s hold on your mind would slip, and I panicked.
 When you took my arm for me to help you up the stairs I
couldn’t bear to look at you. It was like all that time we had
spent apart vanished and the pain came rushing back in.  And
then I looked up and saw you meet my gaze and the world stopped.  I
saw that you recognized me – but not fully.  You were
confused and I so badly wanted to go to you, to comfort you and tell
you that everything would be ok, but I couldn’t.  I gave
up that right nearly a year ago.”

His voice falters.
 He clears his throat and draws back his hand.  “I
never meant to hurt you, Illyria.  That was the last thing I
would ever want.”  

“I know,”
I whisper, wrapping my arms about my waist.  “Some things
just happen.”

Bastien scoffs.
 “Only to me.”

“To us,”
I counter.  “I’m part of this too, you know?”

“But you
shouldn’t be.”  He scoots forward.  His hands
search for mine.  When he finally discovers my hands about my
waist he pauses, seeming unsure.  I release my hold and allow
him to take my hand.  He seems to breathe a bit easier.  “I
promise that I will get you out of this place.  I don’t
know how or when, but I will.”

I bite on my lower
lip to keep my tears at bay.  The turmoil brewing within is
stronger than my resolve and a small sob escapes.  Bastien’s
hand tenses as I draw my hand up to cover my mouth.  

“Illyria?”
  I bite down on my lip hard enough to split the skin.  The
taste of blood is on my lips when I feel his hand flutter up my arm.
 He pauses over my shoulder and then searches higher. When he
reaches the moisture on my cheeks he goes still.  “Why are
you crying?  Have I upset you?”

Without stopping to
consider the consequences of my actions I lean into him, pressing my
cheek against his chest.  His whole body stiffens and for a
moment I lean against him awkwardly but then his arms envelop me and
draw me close.  I wipe at my nose as my tears fall unheeded.  

He comforts me long
into the night.  My tears come and go but still he holds me.  He
doesn’t press me for an answer to my tears.  He just lets
me cry.

When daylight
arrives I wipe my cheeks and dab my swollen eyes.  I know that I
must look like a frightful mess, but Bastien’s gaze is tender
and filled with love that I know I don’t deserve.

“Please don’t
look at me like that,” I whisper and hang my head.  My
hair drapes over my shoulder, concealing my face.

“I don’t
know of any other way to look at you.”  The pure honesty
of his words cuts me like a knife, just deep enough to cause great
pain but not so deep to be fatal.  Oh, how I wish it could be
fatal.

I draw my knees into
my chest and begin to rock, knowing that I must tell him. I owe him
that much, though I can’t bear to look at him when I do.

“I’m
pregnant,” I whisper, so low that I pray he didn’t hear
me.

I
clamp my eyes closed when I hear his breathing catch.  He
doesn’t move.  Doesn’t speak.  The temptation
to raise my head and look at him is nearly great enough to draw me
out from my protective covering, but I dare not.  I don’t
think I could bear the pain that I know my words have caused him.

After several
moments of silence Bastien clears his throat.  I hear him shift,
moving away from me.  Putting a physical distance between us
just like before.

Tears trail down my
cheeks.  “I’m sorry.”

“No.”
 His voice comes out strangled and pinched.  “No.
 Don’t say that.  It’s a good thing.  I
always knew you would be a great mother.”

I lift my head and
peer through the veil of hair covering my face.  His face is
ashen, his hands tremble before him but there is determination in his
eyes.  It scares me.

I pull back my hair
to face him.  “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”
 His gaze shifts to meet mine and I see his withdrawal as
vividly as if he had just shut a door in my face.  

“Is that your
answer for everything?  To run and hide?”

“Hide?”
He spits out.  Color floods back into his cheeks as his gaze
narrows.  “I am not a coward.  I have faced more
horrors on a battlefield than you can even begin to imagine.  I
have held men as they took their final breaths after having been cut
in half.  I have watched women and children slaughtered for the
mere fact that they were in the way.  I’ve watched men
burned alive for sport while scouting enemy camps.  I am no
coward.”

I refuse to look
away from his anger, watching as his chest rises and falls rapidly.
 His fingers clench into fists, his body posture curled inward.
 I sigh.  “Those things do not define you as a man
Bastien, but as a soldier.  You have seen terrible things and
come through them, but do not think you have been left unscathed by
them.  I can’t believe that you have always been this
remote.  No.” I shake my head.  “You may think
that shutting off your emotions is the only way to live but it is a
lie.”

Bastien grits his
teeth and looks away.  “It’s how I get by.”

“That doesn’t
make it right.”

He tosses his hands
up in the air.  They fall heavily on his legs as he turns to
glare at me.  “What do you want from me?  Huh?  You
want me to tell you that I’m thrilled you’re carrying
another man’s child?  Is that what you want?  You
want me to tell you that I’m happy for Eamon, that he got
everything he ever wanted?”

“Not
everything,” I whisper and lower my gaze, knowing that a part
of me, that emptiness in my chest that I feel each time I wake from
one of my dreams, has always belonged to Bastien.  

Bastien
pushed up onto his knees and approaches me. The broken chains dangle
from his manacles as he reaches out to grab onto my arms, waiting for
me to look up at him.  “What do you want from me?”
he asks again, but this time there is a pleading in his voice.  

The wall in his eyes
has faltered.  As I stare up into the sapphire color that has
haunted my dreams for many months I can see only pain, raw and
festering, a wound left far too long without attention.

“I can’t
do this on my own.”  I tremble from head to foot as my
plea makes him deflate completely before me.  He sinks back onto
his heels and hangs his head.  “I’m terrified,
Bastien.”

I watch the muscles
along his neck pulse as he clenches and unclenches his jaw.  Though
his grip on my arms is not tight I can feel the effort it takes for
him to control the emotions rolling over him.