Т Нован - Exposure Season 2

"I thought you were dead," I choke out, a tidal wave of emotion rolling over me, submerging me in its depths. I begin sobbing, unable to help myself.

Harper begins making soothing, nonsensical sounds, carefully pulling me into her embrace. I grab onto her like the drowning woman I am. She is my life preserver.

Somehow I manage to sit up and wind my arms around her neck, pulling myself as close to her as I can. My ribs hurt from this exertion, but I’d rather have their pain than the pain of being separated from her again.

"Shh, chér, it’s alright. I’m here. Even in death, I would never leave you." Even in death, I would never leave you.

I cry myself out in her arms, feeling safe for the first time in days, or it is weeks? I don’t know anymore. Time meant nothing when I was with him.

Him.

I killed him.

I knew he was growing tired of me. I could feel it.

It started when I made my one futile attempt to escape and get past him. He hobbled me. He took a police baton and beat my left knee until it folded under me. That was the beginning of the beatings. I lost track of the others, the pain simply became constant and overwhelming.

I just wanted to be able to sleep, to have it all over with. I wanted him to kill me so I could escape the pain.

That last time, he came to the room and left the door open. I knew then that when he walked out, I would be dead. It was a final taunt to me. Freedom, just beyond my reach.

He came to the bed and pulled my legs, to turn me over. My knee screamed in agony, but I did not. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing me.

"It’s time!" he growled.

I knew what he meant. I was to be like the others — raped and murdered.

At least, it was almost over.

He unchained my hands from above my head. The right one was bent awkwardly. He had broken it before, when I wouldn’t touch him.

He placed his gun to my head again, the same way he had hundreds of other times since I’d been in the room. "I want you to put your arms around me." It was the same request I had refused before.

"Go to hell," was my reply.

I didn’t really feel the slap he gave me. It was just another in a long string of them.

Maybe it was that slap which put some courage back into me. But I decided right then that I wouldn’t give up quite so easily. I wouldn’t let Harper hate me for just giving up. I knew she was dead, he had told me so, but she was watching me. She had visited me. Well, at least her ghost had. And I wanted her to know that I was strong enough to put the sick bastard in jail for what he did to her.

I felt him move the gun so he could get closer to me. I felt his hands on me, tearing my clothes off my body.

And then I knew.

If he was using two hands, his gun was somewhere nearby. Waiting for me.

It was by my left hand, thank God. The one he hadn’t broken. An unfortunate oversight on his part because I reached out and grasped the handle, felt my fingers slide around the grip and the trigger.

And I prayed for God to give me the strength to kill him.

I put the gun to his rib cage and pulled the trigger.

The look of surprise on his face was almost comical as he looked down to confirm what his body was telling him. He had been shot.

I pulled the trigger again.

He pushed himself away from me, standing on trembling legs, blood spilling out of his side. His hands were covered with the dark liquid, trying to hold it in.

I rolled onto my side and leveled off the gun, once again, aiming for his gut. I pulled the trigger again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

I just kept pulling the trigger.

"Sweetheart," Harper whispers, breaking into my memories. "Let’s get you lying down. I know you must be in pain."

"I killed him," I choke out. Will she hate me now?

She shudders and nods tightly. "You came out alive. That’s all that matters. I’m so proud of you for coming back to me."

"You don’t hate me?"

Harper looks genuinely shocked by my question. "I could never hate you, Kelsey Stanton."

"Will Erik?" I ask.

"No, Erik won’t hate you either, Kels. Sleep now. You need to get better. We have a vacation to plan, right?"

I nod, exhausted. Sleep sounds perfect right now.

I wake up again. I don’t know how much later. It’s light outside, though, so it’s been a few hours, at least. My fingers are tangled with Harper’s. I don’t know if I’ll ever let go of her again.

I realize she is talking to someone so I open my eyes to see who our visitor is. To my delight, it is Mama, Rene and baby Clark.

Mama’s sharp eyes focus in on me. "Oh, look who has joined us." She gets up from her chair and walks over to the bed. She bends down to place a kiss on my forehead. "Welcome back, little one."

"Merci, mamman."

Rene comes closer as well. "Hi, Kelsey. Good to see you with us."

"Thanks, Rene. Where’s Christian?" Truth is, if there was a man in the Kingsley family who could take me away from Harper, it would be Christian. He’s precious.

"He’s with his Uncle Gerrard and Aunt Katherine right now. Probably eating sugar and drinking caffeine. It’ll take us a week to get it out of his system."

I smile, but my face is still tender from being struck repeatedly the last few days. "Thanks for coming." I relax back into the mattress.

My mind turns to my other favorite guy. Erik.

Oh God.

The last I saw of him, he was lying there on the living room floor. How could I have not asked about him sooner? Dammit, Kels, nothing like being self-occupied.

Harper raises a quizzical eyebrow. "What’s wrong?"

"How’s Erik? Is he okay?"

The prolonged silence should be enough of an answer for me. But, I need to hear it. To know it for certain.

"Kelsey, honey, I’m afraid Erik didn’t make it," Harper says in a gentle tone, her hand squeezing mine gently.

Didn’t make it. Sounds so benign. Like he didn’t make the train. Or the grade he wanted. Surely death shouldn’t sound so trivial.

He died because of me.

Like those women. They died because they looked like me. Erik died because he lived with me.

My fault.

How come I escaped and they didn’t?

‘And I alone survived.’ What novel was that from? I remember it was depressing, whatever it was.

Just like now. All I feel is emptiness. I suppose I should happy to be alive, grateful to have been spared. And a part of me is, I can’t deny that. But a larger part knows I don’t deserve this. And I shouldn’t be here.

I’ve cheated death and others paid the price.

I killed Erik.

She’s been asleep for about four hours. The doctor had to sedate her after I told her about Erik. I hated having to do that. Yet, I didn’t want anyone else to be the one to tell her. Wow, taking responsibility in a relationship, Harper. Big step.

Kels was inconsolable. She kept saying over and over again she had killed Erik. Nothing that Mama, Rene or I said to her would make her believe that wasn’t true. I hate that she’s in so much pain, both physically and emotionally, and there isn’t a goddamn thing I can do except sit here and hold her hand. Of course, Mama says that’s the most important thing. I’ve always trusted Mama in the past. Best if I don’t start doubting her now.

With Kels asleep, Mama and Rene have gone to look after their husbands. Robie is especially helpless without Rene, except with his sons. We’re all glad for that one area of domestic competence he has displayed.

Even through the sedatives, she’s still crying out in her sleep, calling Erik’s name. She didn’t ask me for specifics and until she does I don’t intend to tell her. And even then I don’t see a need to fill her in on the gruesome details. She knows he’s dead and I really think that’s all she needs to know. It’s bad enough I know. Those images haunt my dreams too.