Lingering Echoes (6 page)

“W
ell, you’re taking your time getting up today.” Aaron’s voice entered from the doorway, the smell of bacon drifting through the door. My stomach gurgled in response.

I sat up in bed as
Aaron offered me a warm plate consisting of three strips of crispy bacon, two fried eggs, and buttered toast slathered in red jam. He placed a tall glass of orange juice on my nightstand.

“Wow. What’s the occasion?” I
asked. I crunched into the toast, spilling crumbs down my shirt. Aaron sat down beside my legs.

“No occasion. I can’t take the credit for cooking it, though. Clara and you
r dad cooked together.”

Dad
helps cook now? Hmm. That’s different.

“But,” Aaron continued, “I did have to fight Nick off to save this plate for you. He said a
nyone who sleeps in past eleven doesn’t deserve a breakfast like this.”

I dropped my bacon.
“What? It’s after eleven?” I fumbled for my phone with my left hand, my right fingers too covered in bacon grease to be of any use. I checked the time. It was eleven-fifteen. I never slept in this late.

“Yeah,
you even overslept
my
record, at least for this trip. And trust me; I’m a guy that likes my sleep.” He assessed my features. “Rough night?”

             
In an instant, nightmares swamped my mind with images I didn’t want, and memories I tried to hide. I remembered now. The first half of the night tortured me with its usual cruelty.

Aaron put a hand on my knee
, leaning closer. “You ok, Allie? You don’t look so good. No offense,” he added.

“Um
...I think I’m just coming down with something.” I looked away. I didn’t want to see whether he believed me or not.

“W
ell, it’s a good day to be sick if there were any day to pick one. The weather channel says a cold front is coming through.” Aaron patted my leg. “Your parents ditched out to do some shopping downtown. So the rest of us can all just hang out and play games or something. It’ll be fun.”

I felt like it was raining already. Spending an entire day c
ooped up with Nick around hardly sounded enticing, but I played along for Aaron’s sake.

“Sure. That would be fun.” I forced an encouraging smile.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, you better finish that entire plate or all breakfast-in-bed privileges just might be revoked.” He winked at me with an attractive smile. He stood up, preparing to leave.

“Thanks for breakfa
st, Aaron.” I waved at him as he exited my bedroom, his tall, lean figure barely passing under the doorframe unscathed.

“I’m here!” Brooke announced a few hours later, hanging up her wet umbrella. She was dressed in jeans
and a tight, long-sleeved hoodie. She swung her hair, shaking off imaginary water droplets.

“Was it necessary to
use an umbrella to walk over here?” I asked her with a contained smile.

She walked over to the dining table where the three of us sat, still running her fingers through her silky hair. “It’s pouring outside!”

“Yeah, and it’s a five-second walk from your cabin to ours,” Nick chimed in.

She pushed
out her lips. “Did you invite me over here to play games or to make fun of me?” She crossed her arms, standing at the edge of the table.

I laughed. “I’m sorry, Brooke. I was just teasing. I’m glad you’re here.” I patted the empty chair next to me. S
he sat down in a bit of a huff, and then scanned the game board.

“All right, what are we playing?”

“After ransacking the stash in the closet, we found a game called Hotels,” Aaron informed her. She brightened when he looked at her. “It’s an old board game, like Monopoly, but it’s way better. You have to upgrade your purchased hotels to be as fancy as possible. That way you get more money when other players land on you.”

We played for the next two hours, making it through a couple rounds of Hotels
, and then started on a game of Clue. Just as I was deciphering whether it was Mr. Plum, with the dagger, in the billiard room, Nick tried to cheat by lying about the cards he had in his hands. Something didn’t add up and I caught on to his trickery.

“Y
ou can’t withhold information,” I complained, grabbing at his cards across the table.

He pulled away, shoving my hands back. “I’m not! I’m just playing the game.” His dark eyes glared at me.

I was so sick of his attitude.

“You’re cheating
and that ruins the entire purpose of the game.” I glared back at him.

“Hey, a
ren’t we just trying to have some fun?” Aaron’s attempt to mediate was futile.

“Don’t look at me. Allie’s the one ruining it for everyone, making a big deal out of nothing. But we all know that’s just the way she d
oes things,” he added, his voice heavy with spite. “All the drama to be the center of attention.” He stared me down.

My face flushed with anger. In my mind, I knew this discussion was worthless. But it wasn’t about the game anymore.

“I don’t like cheaters. They can’t be trusted, for anything,” I spat out.

“
I
can’t be trusted? This is just a stupid game!” He threw down his cards, knocking game pieces all over the board. “You want to talk about trust? Hm. I wonder how your aunt and uncle must feel about that topic. I bet they’re not going to trust
you
again. Oh, wait. From my understanding, they don’t have anyone
left
to trust you with.”

N
ick’s words sliced at my soul, and he knew it. His face was smug in comparison to my tortured expression.

My body shook
but not with rage. With shame. A shame so painful my chest felt like it was being pierced from within. My eyes burned with tears that I refused to let fall.

Brooke reached a hand out to
me, but I didn’t wait. I shoved back my chair in one fast movement, bolting for the door.

“Nick, man, what is your problem?” Aaron’s voice was the last I heard before the door slammed behind me.

The torment I felt could only be compared to the torrential rains that pounded on top of me. The cold front had released its fierce army, strong winds driving against me. My bare feet tore at the dirt, splashing through muddy puddles. I ran hard, plastered with incoherent thoughts and emotions. My lungs burned with the icy air, my heart heavy. I barely saw the trees that whipped past me in a blur. Swaying branches scraped across my face, tore at my clothing. I fell to my knees.

At last, I let out a strangled cry, a flood of tears mingling with the pummeling rain. The thunderous river shouted back, taunting and hateful.

“Maddie!” The throaty sob was mine. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.” I shut my eyes tight, desperate to hold back the nightmares that remained my reality...

“Come on, Allie! Hurry up!”

“Madison, don’t run off.” I dodged a couple of trees, running after her while her blond waves of hair blew in the wind. The gathering rain already made the ground slippery and unsteady. It was all I could do to keep up with her giggling, nine-year-old form. By the time I reached the river, Maddie was already stepping onto the rocks.

“Hey, get back here! Didn’t you notice
it’s raining? We can’t play here today. It’s not safe!” I made a desperate attempt to snatch her arm, but that encouraged her to creep further out onto the large boulders sticking out above the current.

“You’re going to get us both in trouble
!” Despite my annoyance, a begrudged smile escaped at the liveliness of her blue eyes, the undefeatable laughter in her face.

Barefoot, I step
ped into the water, already drenched from the downpour. “It’s freezing!” I complained. The icy water sent chills through my body, a physical protest.

Maddie
laughed at my failed attempt to catch her, two arm’s lengths away. “How much do you want to bet that I can make it all the way across to the other side and back?” She asked me, judging the distance without fear, as she wiped the rain from her eyes.

My st
eps wobbled and I threw my arms out for balance. Maddie’s motions mimicked mine, her steps becoming more hesitant from the middle of the river.

“Madison, get back here! The current is
too strong.” I had to yell to be heard over the sheets of rain and flowing water crashing against the rocks.

Maddie
observed the rapid flow of the river beneath her. She frowned in admitted defeat. The wind swirled furiously, shaking the branches overhead. The rain continued to slice against our skin, pelting our faces heavily from the dark sky. She pivoted, taking a slow step towards me.

I lean
ed over, reaching my arm as far as I could. Our fingers were just inches apart. One more step...

In an ins
tant, she slipped. Her knee slammed down under the water and I heard her cry out just before her body was swept into the water.

“
Maddie!” I lunged back onto the embankment, sprinting alongside the river to keep sight of her. Her small body bobbed up and down in the water. She fought a fierce battle to keep her head up, but was sucked back down seconds later.

Frantic,
I searched the river for my cousin. There, gripping a protruding boulder, I saw her, gasping for breath and struggling with all her might to hold onto the slippery surface. I grabbed a fallen branch, tugging hard to remove it from the thorny bush it had fallen into.

My body numb with cold and fear, I thrust the branch out, inches from w
ithin Maddie’s reach. She swiped at it with one hand, straining to make the reach.

“Allie! Allie
, please help me!” Her voice was withdrawn, choked with panic.

“Come on, Madison! You can do it!
Just a little further!” The terrified, shrieking voice could not be mine.

Yet there we wer
e, just the two of us.

I
lay down on my stomach, desperate to close the gap. Maddie made a final, frantic dive. Her hands wrapped around the branch with a secure grip. Relief surged through me.

In that same moment, I lean
ed too far. My sudden movement pitched me headfirst into the water. All rational thought was lost as my head submerged into the freezing water. When I came back up, I gasped for air. My empty hands flailed.

Maddie
! Oh, Maddie!

I caught
one last, fleeting glimpse of her, innocent blue eyes terrified, before she was dragged under once again, disappearing beneath the swirling surface...

My body was lifted off the ground where I lay curled by the river’s edge. Strong arms cradled me close, my eyes half-opened. Exhausted, my limp body did not resist. The rain had softened but the cold air lingered. My limbs felt numb, my clothing heavy and soaked all the way through. My teeth chattered inside my clenched jaw.

Within a minute, a warm voice spoke to me, still holding me against his chest. “Allie, I need you to sit up, ok?”

My mind felt as weary as my body. The words sounded a universe away, a soft hum that I struggled to understand. I didn’t respond, but allowed him to adjust my body. My legs straddled the bike, a familiar black sheathing now splattered with mud. I slumped forward with sagging shoulders, my spinning head heavy and weighing me down.

Rough, yet gentle
, hands cupped my face, lifting my jaw. My eyes struggled to focus...and then I froze in recognition.

Piercing, blue-
gray eyes stared back into mine. A warmth of electricity jostled my body—a breath of life reviving my faded mind.

He released his hold, removing his
black leather jacket, and pulled it around me. I slipped my arms into the dry sleeves, following his commands. Satisfied, Damien swung his leg over, now sitting in front of me. He tried to look at me over his shoulder, blinking rain out of his eyes.

“Can you hold on?”

I placed tentative hands on the sides of his wide torso. He put his hands on mine, pulling them closer together, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“You need to hold on tight,” he ordered. It took a couple kicks to start the waterlogged motor. He revved the engine. The bike lurched forward out o
f the mud as we took off. I adjusted my grip, feeling my body slip backwards.

Driving parallel to the river, I laid
my cheek against Damien’s damp, cotton shirt. His back was warm, his body heat seeping through the thin material. I closed my eyes, feeling the tight muscles of his back against my face. I could hear his rapid heartbeat muffled through his clothes.

With the way we cut through the wind as we flew through the trees, time felt surreal in those moments. Were the cold not biting through my skin, I might have believed I was dreaming. But a dream like this was welcomed against my recent nightmares.

Damien pressed on the brake as we approached the wooden bridge. “We need to cross,” he called over his shoulder.

His words sounded familiar, conjuring up a recent memory of colorful square cards laid ou
t before me.

The red tent.
The overwhelming fragrances.

And the fear.
The hesitancy.

My eyes looked down at the rushing river below. I squeezed tighter against him, closing my
eyes. Sensing my trepidation, he folded one hand into mine, his voice low and comforting. “Don’t be afraid.”

He waited until he felt me nod agains
t his back. Then he drove across the bridge, crossing the arch at a slow speed.

We arrived at a small cabin.
The construction on the outside seemed new; its smooth wood frame still intact with little chipping or weathering. Damien cut the ignition. I slipped off the back, while he locked the bike into place. My legs wobbled. In moments, Damien reached my side, securing me with one arm. We stepped through the doorway.

The interior was clean and simple in design. From the
entrance, we stood in a comfortable living space. Directly ahead was a narrow kitchen with a small dining area. A bedroom filled the space next to the kitchen. To my left was a bathroom.

Finding
my voice, I said, “Is this your home?” Damien led me to the long, leather couch and sat me down.

“No. But I live here.” His distinction was clear with th
e sudden tartness of his voice. He walked to his bedroom, while I wondered about the change in his tone.

An involuntary shiver shook my body, remi
nding me of my saturated body. My sopping jeans left a trail of puddles from the doorway and continued to drip under my bare feet. Damien returned with a green towel and a handful of clothes. I accepted the thick towel, holding it against my face. I eyed the remaining clothes in his arms. He gestured towards me.

“I
t’s not Nordstrom’s or anything but it’s warmer than what you have on.”

Accepting the clothes, I murmured a thank you.

“You can use the bathroom right there,” he said, pointing to the room beside me.

I hurried onto the cool tile floor, shutting the door behind me.
I jumped in shock at the figure in the mirror.

Battered on the outside and broken within, I touched my reflection, watching the hand of the girl in agony reac
hing back. Her face was pale. Fresh scratches crisscrossed her face, almost masking one long, fading line stretching across the right side. Sorrowful green eyes gazed back, appearing darker with the dripping, wet strands along the sides of her face.

My
face.
My
agony.

With a deep sigh, I stripped my clot
hes and observed the options Damien gave me. Throwing a red T-shirt over my head, it parachuted on top of me, reminding me of my favorite oversized pajama shirt at home. Slipping into the long, grey sweatpants, I experimented successfully with the drawstring. I gave up any efforts to tame the tangled layers framing my narrow face.

Abandoning my wet clothes, I opened the bathroom door and
stepped across the wood flooring. The first thing I noticed was the glow of the fireplace, and then the large, steaming mug sitting on the coffee table. I looked over at the bedroom and stopped.

Through the door that lay ajar,
I could see Damien. His black sweats appeared identical to mine, the back of his naked torso facing me. He slipped his arms into a long-sleeved, white thermal. Something about his back caught my eye. A darkened, discolored patch of skin covered from one shoulder blade to the other, though it was hard to distinguish next to his tanned skin. He finished pulling the thermal all the way over his long upper body before I could make out the distortions. Grabbing another T-shirt off the bed, he turned around. He stopped short, catching me watching him.

I turned away
, but my eyes darted back to where he stood, pulling a short-sleeved gray T-shirt over his head. Damien met my gaze. Searching my face, he moved towards me. I noticed that the baggy sweats fit him just right, and the tight shirt outlined his upper body and the curve of his biceps.

“Oh, so is that how it’s supposed to l
ook?” I said to him, attempting to cover up my unease. “Somehow, I don’t think I pull it off as well as you do.” I threw my hands along my body, modeling my voluminous attire in jest.

He couldn’t help but laugh a deep, low chuckle. H
is dimple accompanied his grin as he sat down beside me. “The shirt doesn’t look bad on you.” He eyed me up and down again. “The pants could use a little work though.”

He motioned to the steaming mug on the table. “Go ahead. Drink up.”

I cupped the heated mug, my fingers tingling as the heat seeped through them. I took a sip of sweet chocolate. Swallowing, I enjoyed the warm sensation that traveled down my throat, spreading throughout my chest, and then to the rest of my body. I sighed in contentment, leaning back into the leather couch. I noticed Damien watching me, empty-handed.

“Where’s your drink?”
             

He shook his h
ead, his expression serious. “I’m not the one who tried to drown myself in the rain.”

Pausing mid-sip, I looked
down into the brown murkiness of my drink. Somehow, it was not as appealing as it was moments ago. Pulling my knees up, I cradled the mug close to my chest. My fingers tapped the top of the porcelain, stalling.

“Will you tell me what happened?” he asked.

He wasn’t asking if I
wanted
to tell him, but asking would I. They were two very different things.

It was silent for a couple minutes after that, neither of us saying or
doing anything. Just sitting—Damien with his persistent inquiry, and me with my unyielding privacy.

I put the
mug down and turned to face him, taking in his defined, dark eyebrows and the cut outline of his jaw. “I don’t even know who you are.”

He
studied my face, observing me with his calm confidence. “But do you trust me?”

My mouth opened
in surprise, taken aback by his question. How could I trust him when I barely knew him? Haunting words floated into my mind—Alina Ivanova’s voice low, eerie, and so penetrable that I could almost smell the incense.

“Be careful who you trust
...”

A brief moment of fear breached my emotio
ns, tapping my senses. And yet an indiscernible force drew me towards him, summoning me.

“Something happened up here last summer. I’ve never
really talked to anyone about it.” I stared into the safety of his eyes, and he willed me to continue, securing me in his gaze. He gave a brief nod.

“E
very two years or so, my dad’s side plans a family reunion. My dad has two older brothers and a younger sister, Aunt Heidi. She’s always been my favorite. And her nine-year-old daughter and I—we were close.” The past tense pained my face.

“
Maddie loved the river. We both did. Any chance we had, we’d run over there. We always took our shoes off at the same place, right next to this giant pine tree. We used to race each other to the river to see who could get across the fastest without falling in. It didn’t matter that I was seven years older. She loved competition more than anyone I know.” I gave a quiet laugh in bitter remembrance, followed by a sorrowful sigh.

Damien waited with patience
while I wrestled with my emotions, preparing to voice details I’d never shared.

“It was
our last afternoon at Hidden Pines, so, of course, we were playing in the trees. We were told to be home by dinner, especially since it had been storming the last couple of days. We lost track of time and it started raining again. Maddie ran to the river, wanting to cross one more time before we had to leave. I chased after her.

“She tried crossing the rocks to the other side of the river. And
then it all happened in a split second. She slipped. The river was rushing fast, the current so much stronger that year.” My voice picked up in pitch and speed, recalling the final moments with Maddie, aloud for the first time since that day.

“I—I
tried to save her. Her hands were on the branch and all I needed to do was pull her in. But I fell. She was right there and I let her go!” The helpless tears that I thought were dried up resurfaced with the memory, cascading down my cheeks. I threw my hands over my face, hiding my shame, my guilt.

Damien circled me in his arms, pulling my head against his warm chest. He let me cry. He didn’t hush me when
I wailed with a grief so heavy I felt I was sinking in the river all over again. My body shook against him. My sobs tore at the wall I had built to barricade myself from my emotions—pain, misery, guilt, shame, sorrow, love—until the floodgates were lifted, and I released them all on Damien.

At last, my cries subdued. All that was left was an occasional shuddering breath as I inhaled. Damien stroked my hair, his fingers brushing across the side of my face. I felt safe in his arms.

But tired. I was so tired.

He didn’t move when I spoke again, my voice low and calm.

“I should have drowned, too. But someone saved me that day.” My eyes met his with bewilderment. “Pulled me right out of the water. I don’t remember much after that. I awoke in the hospital. My dad and sisters were there, and Aunt Heidi. I couldn’t look at her, couldn’t tell any of them what exactly happened, but of course, they knew. They found Maddie’s body the next morning.”

Sitting up
, I rubbed my face and my burning eyes. Embarrassed, I focused on the puddle of tears that had absorbed into his shirt.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. Nobody should
have to lose family like that,” Damien said.

Silence carried us a minute more. My thoughts seemed to etch
visibly in my face. With uncanny understanding, Damien concluded, “You think it’s your fault.”