pushes at my chest. “Don’t go insulting my Maltesers. I love them, okay? Besides, you should be honoured I shared them with you. They’re delicious.”
“Not really. I only ate them because you kept shoving them down my throat.”
“You ungrateful arsehole.”
I chuckle, running my fingers through her hair. “I haven’t eaten them since back then.”
“Me neither. I remember wanting them when I was a kid, but Aunt’s strict diet didn’t allow me regular chocolate and sweets. I never asked Uncle for them, though.” Elsa pauses. “I guess deep down, I knew I shouldn’t eat them alone.”
“I’ll buy them for you.” I smile.
“I’ll share.”
We remain like that for a few minutes. For a moment, I forget that we’re in the basement where the red woman tortured me and then died.
I forgot the sight of Elsa lying motionless in her own blood.
For a while, it’s just me and her finding our roots.
When I kidnapped her here, all I wanted was to give her back the connection to her past. Not knowing what would happen was dangerous and left me with no backup plans — except for really kidnapping her and never returning.
I’m not comfortable with the unknown. I thought if she remembered she saved me on the expense of her mother’s death and her own metaphorical death, she’d hate me.
“Do you regret saving me?” I ask in the quietness of the room.
It’s the only vulnerable question I’ve allowed myself over the years. Her mother would still be alive if she didn’t save me.
Her electric blue eyes bore into mine with a deep sense of affection. “I regret many things, but saving you was never one of them. You were my light and I had to protect you.”
“Even if the cost was your mother’s life and your memories?”
“That’s mental illness. It’s neither yours nor my fault.”
I nod once.
I doubt she truly believes that, but I’ll let it pass. We have the entire future to revisit this.
“Who do you think saved me?” she asks.
“I don’t know. I was already passed out at the time.”
She bites her lower lip like she does when in deep thoughts. I lean down and kiss it, making her blush.
“I remember how Ma pulled the trigger, but I don’t remember hearing your voice,” she muses. “Then… Someone held me and —” She gasps. “Oh, my God! There was someone else.”
32
Elsa
Past
I’m moving.
The ground shifts from underneath me and someone holds me in their arms.
Daddy?
No. Daddy needs help.
It’s dark in here. I can’t open my eyes. I can’t speak.
I can only remain motionless as someone carries me. The faint shuffling of footsteps is the only thing I hear.
“You’ll be fine. You’re Steel’s legacy.”
The voice is distant, almost from another room. Or maybe is it from another place?
My head lolls against the arm carrying me.
Daddy. Save Daddy, too.
Did Grey Eyes leave safely?
I want to ask those questions and more, but my mouth doesn’t move. Nothing moves.
A small whimper reaches me from the ground. The sound is so haunting and pained, it rips through me.
Ma?
Am I imagining it?
The sound comes again like a howl in the winter.
This time, the one carrying me stops and turns around.
“You just wouldn’t die, would you?” The voice sounds disapproving, angry almost. “You don’t deserve this life, Abigail and we both know that. It’ll all end today.”
And just like that, they march ahead. The whimpers grow far and quiet the more he walks. We’re leaving Ma behind. Why?
I’m trapped in and out of the darkness as if we’re playing hide-and-seek.
The person strides on and on.
I want to call for Daddy or Ma, but I can’t.
When I think they’ll never stop walking, they halt and place me on something soft. “Take her to the hospital. Call Blair and Jaxon Quinn, then watch from afar. Don’t interfere, and only make sure she’s safe.”
Daddy. Daddy. Save Daddy.
“Burn the whole mansion down,” the voice says in a sure tone.
“Are there any survivors inside?” Someone else asks.
“No,” the voice says. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Daddy.
Daddy is still in there.
And Ma, too.
My eyes flutter open the slightest bit. Two men climb into the back of a black van. One of them is Dr Shepherd, Dad’s personal doctor.
He leans over a body wearing a bloodied white shirt.
It’s Daddy.
Don’t leave me.
The other man sits on Dad’s other side, watching him closely.
“Burn it,” he tells a man in black standing near the van.
The man speaks into his hand and the mansion catches on fire.
I stare at the man beside Dad through blurry eyes. He watches the house being eaten by flames