fight. I had to get them down. Then all would be well. I would make things good again.
I cast a watery smile at Flame. “I am here to help you, Flame. You and Isaiah.” Flame’s shoulder relaxed slightly. “But you must allow us to help you down from the tree. You are hurt.” I smiled at Asher, trying to reassure him everything would be okay. His head fell, averting his gaze from mine. “Let us save Isaiah, Flame.”
Even speaking the words was a dagger strike to my heart. To even speak his fallen brother’s name in such a way made my soul cry out at the injustice of my husband’s plight. At how, even now, he had to deal with the trauma of losing his brother in the tragic way he had. At how Flame had yet to accept that he too was an innocent in this story, the victim of an abusive father who tormented him each and every day of his young life. “Can we save him, Flame? Can we save Isaiah?”
Flame’s eyes darted over the brothers, and then landed on Viking and AK. He didn’t meet their eyes, but his head remained angled their way. “Them,” he rasped. I knew he was referring to AK and Viking. “They can do it. Only them.” A burst of heat blossomed in my chest. Hope. It was the blissful feeling of hope. Even in the fog clouding his mind, Flame recognized his best friends.
AK and Viking slowly moved to Asher. I drifted closer as they began to cut the ropes that bound him. As the ropes fell away, Viking lifted Asher from the tree, as gently as a disciple lifting Christ from the cross of Calvary. When Viking placed Asher down on the ground, Asher’s legs buckled. He was too weak to walk. I dared not leave Flame, fighting the instinct to run to him and wrap him in my embrace. Flame’s agitation increased and panic set on his face as he watched his brother being freed. AK moved closer to Asher, and I had to stop myself from sobbing as Asher fell against AK and wrapped his weakened arms around AK’s neck. Asher wouldn’t let go, tucking his head into the safety of AK’s chest. AK realized this, and simply held him. “It’s okay, kid. I got you,” AK whispered, letting Asher slip deeper into his embrace.
In that moment I was reminded of what Asher was—a child. A child who, like Flame, had lost his mama and was thrust into a life no one should have to endure. He had a brother who loved him, but who struggled to show this love. To ensure that Asher knew, with unwavering certainty, that Flame needed him in his life.
AK slowly carried Asher away. Rider rushed to Asher as AK lay him on the ground. But AK did not let go of Asher’s hand. Kept telling him he was going to be okay. Flame began thrashing against the ropes. When I followed his line of sight, he was reacting to Rider giving Asher aid.
“They are saving him,” I assured Flame, who stilled and looked into my eyes. Even now, in the hell in which he was trapped, Flame met my eyes. I was the only person from whom he never looked away. I did not know if he recognized me as his wife, but his soul called to mine, still holding the bond that God, or destiny, had created for us. For us to find one another when all was lost, and we feared salvation could never be found.
I stepped closer. My very presence seemed to calm Flame. His breathing slowed and his body lost tension. I still registered the confusion in his eyes. Saw how the snake venom had affected him—his dilated eyes, the sweat on his skin. “Do you… do you know who I am?” I dared ask and fought the urge to lay my hands upon his chest. To feel my husband’s heartbeat against my palm and pray that he knew the touch of his wife.
Flame studied my face. Sadness engulfed me when I realized he did not know me. I opened my mouth to speak, when he whispered, “Angel.” I could not move as he spoke. “The angel in my dreams who rescues me from the flames, from the cellar.” I exhaled, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces. “The angel who finds me when I’m lost…” Flame’s voice slurred, and his eyes began to close. I