and I rest my head against his shoulder as he rocks me, comforting me. And I know damn well I don’t deserve it.
With that thought comes the nagging prick again. The one that tells me Cody knows more about Marcus than he’s let on over the years. The pictures flash in my mind. And the realization dawns on me. Why weren’t there pictures of the other boys? Why was it all about Marcus and his brother?
The nagging prick comes back as I stand there, feeling the chill of the air before the click of the heater comes on. I know Cody knows something. I know he does. I knew it the second I mentioned Marcus came to me. It’s what’s gotten into me.
Cody remains calm and comforting as the feeling of deceit takes over once again. This is what’s making me crazy.
“I need to ask you something.” My heart races as I give voice to words a part of me knows I shouldn’t, not daring to look up. “I don’t want you to lie to me, though.” I pray I’m not wrong. If he doesn’t know something for sure, he at least thinks it. He has a theory. I know he must. I can feel it.
“I won’t,” Cody swears, trying to look down at me but I cling to him, refusing to look up. “What do you know about Marcus that I don’t?”
But I Need You
To my husband.
My hero and my love.
“It’s so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.”
- John Steinbeck
Prologue
Marcus
Twenty-one years ago
It’s warmer in the barn. Here in the corner, nestled in the hay, it’s far warmer than it is outside. More importantly, in this back corner, there’s not a place for the brutal wind to slip in. The tips of my fingers could just as well be pieces of ice tucked under my chin as I hunker down in the hay. It smells like dirt and pigs, but the warmth is more comforting than anything I’ve felt in days. By the looks of it, there hasn’t been a soul here in quite some time.
I spent the past three nights outside. Last night I dug into the ground to try to hide from the vicious wind that whipped through my tattered clothes. The hard earth was like a brick of clay and it took far too much energy to dig deep enough. It helped, but my throat is sore, my body is weak and I don’t know that I’ll ever get my hands warm again. There’s only one thing I’m certain of: I can’t keep going on like this. Something has to give.
Late fall in the northeast turns frigid sooner than most cities. My teacher used to refer to all the backwoods towns off the highway outside of New York City as Podunk. So that’s what I’ve been calling them all, the Podunk towns. I don’t even know where I am other than somewhere deep in the woods but to the left of the farms. It’s open fields out there, wide open with nowhere to hide.
This barn looks abandoned, a lonely decrepit place, and perfect for one night. Just one night to close my eyes and get the strength to keep moving. I don’t know how far I’ll run, but he told me his home was past the Podunk towns and that’s where mine used to be … if only I can find it.
When I close my eyes and ignore the smells, all I can hear is his voice. I try to forget the worst parts and only think about the stories he told me. He had so many good ones about his mother and how she was going to find us and save us. I remember how sure he was whenever he said we were safe. It was the only way I could sleep although I would have never admitted that to him. I was the one who was supposed to be protecting him, not the other way around. Safety surrounds me for a moment; a long enough moment that my eyes feel heavy and my body sags against the barn wood, begging me to give in to much-needed sleep.
Every muscle still burns from running. Even worse so because I ran up the mountain and into the thick, dense forest when I heard the cars coming. I won’t let them get me too. I’ll never be caught again. Each little cut stings and seems to sear the