Chapter Twenty-Six
Leo
Haley is so soft in my arms. So small.
So still.
Rick stunned her with the fucking paperweight. A glass flower in his hand, hurtling toward my skull. And then, somehow, Haley’s. For that split second he looked like a Morelli. Men like Rick Joseph Jr. don’t know violence. They only know the idea of it. The illusion. The reality is always different. In this reality Haley didn’t drop straight down. She lost her balance and her head hit the corner of my desk. Two blows to one delicate temple.
I fell to my knees. Caught her before she could hit the floor. It was too late by then.
I pull her close, as close as I can get her. Cradle her body in one of my arms, stroke her hair back from her face. She did this for me once. She tried so hard not to hurt me, even though I’d hurt her. Even though I deserved to be left on the hard floor to bleed out alone. I would give anything to hear her voice. Anything for her to open her eyes. Every second that passes forces more fear down my throat. Haley’s unconscious, and I never knew how awful this was, I never knew how deep the terror went. The day Ronan came to kill me, I heard her scream as the world faded away. I understand that scream now. It’s happening in my own mind.
She was screaming for help.
I know better than that.
“That’s not what I meant.” Rick’s voice quavers, and if I had anything left, I would fucking hate him. But all I have is pain. It’s impossible to separate the pain in my body from the pain in my soul and the all-encompassing pain of loving her. Desperately. Furiously. Against every rule I’ve ever made for myself. In spite of the threat of me. I love her.
Rick drops the paperweight. The glass spiders and cracks next to my knee. The structure of the petals separates, each one of them catching reflections of the fire. Those petals used to refract the light from my window. “Oh, fuck,” he says again, that fucking coward. “I didn’t mean to hit her. Caroline sent me after you, not her. Fuck.”
I can’t hear if she’s breathing. I don’t think she is. Rick babbles more excuses. More apologies. He’s a stain on this room. On this moment. He deserves to die for what he’s done to Haley, but I would have to put her down to kill him. I will never let her out of my arms again.
“Get the fuck out of my office. Get out. Get out.”
He runs. Trips over the fallen chair and scrambles away. His footsteps are replaced by quiet. Not silence. The fire crackles softly in the grate. Snowflakes graze the window pane on a night breeze. Air moves in a harsh saw in and out of my own lungs. I have to be calm for her. I have to be steady. I don’t know if I can do it.
Because she’s not breathing.
I press a hand to her chest and pray for it to rise.
“Please. Darling. Wake up.” Her chin in my hand feels unbearably fragile. “Please, take another breath. It’s all right. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. One breath. Wake up.”
Nothing.
“Haley. Darling. You have to keep breathing.” I press down on her chest, trying to coax the air out of her. Into her. It shouldn’t have stopped her breathing. Hitting her head shouldn’t have stopped her lungs from working. But then Caroline shouldn’t have been able to cause permanent damage to me. If it were simple, it would be easy to fix, it would be easy to get her to start again. Haley was strong enough to survive me, to survive the darkest parts of my rage and pain. She weathered me like a storm. Cried for the storm. Loved it, too. I want her to be too strong for this. I push harder, feeling the echo of her hands against my chest. In her nightmares, she’s trying to keep my heart beating. I’m trying to keep hers beating now, though I don’t know if I’m feeling her pulse or mine. “Please.”
Nothing.
I kiss her, put my mouth on hers to feel the sweet movement of her breath. When I kiss Haley her whole body responds to me. Now there’s nothing. I make the sign of the cross over her with a shaking hand. She’s innocent. She’s perfect. God’s mercy is supposed to be never ending. He could offer her a scrap, even if He offers me nothing. Any grace should go to her, not me, not me. I have never been able to accept endless mercy. Always wrestled with it, no matter how many times Father Simon claims to know the truth.
And maybe this is my failing. I knew violence to be a limited resource. The more violence I accepted from my father, the less he would have for my siblings. Why wouldn’t the mercy of God be the same? The more he gives to one sinner, the less he has for another.
An endless capacity for anything is a danger. Endless mercy can lead to endless violence. Endless sacrifice can lead to endless pain.
All of this falls away. What does it matter now? I don’t need endless mercy. I only need one act of grace. Please, for Haley. I confess my love for her. I confess it’s everything, all I feel. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, my entire heart does not belong to God, so much of it belongs to Haley, and if that means I’ll burn forever, then so be it.
She’s not breathing.
Panic winds itself around my pain and screws itself into my flesh. My heart. Raw terror threatens to separate each piece of me from the whole. It’s pulling out ribs and organs. One by one. “God, please. Darling, please.” A little shake to her face. “Not this way. You have to survive this. You have to survive me. I’ll let you go if I have to. I’ll let you go. Anywhere you want to go, just don’t leave.” Don’t leave the world. Exist in the world. It will be enough if she exists. “Forgive me. Stay with me.”
Nothing.
“Anything.” I feel a presence here. I feel witnessed. I don’t allow myself to be seen like this, I don’t, but I can’t stop it, and nothing matters but Haley. The air grows heavy. Harder to work in and out of my lungs but I am painfully awake, painfully alive. “I’ll do anything. I’m so sorry, darling. With all my heart. I chose the wrong things. I’ve done terrible things. I’ve sinned, Jesus, so many times and I would do it all again, I would suffer it all over again if you’ll wake up. Let me take your place. Let me take her place.”
I look down into Haley’s peaceful expression and my soul tears apart. A raindrop falls to her cheek. Another one. It’s too cold for rain but angels could weep for her, Jesus, please. “I’ll sin again. I know I will. I can’t stop. But don’t take her from me, please, please. I’ll do anything. Let her live. She’s so soft. She’s so sweet. Let her live.” Her head is heavy in the crook of my arm, her eyelashes a gentle shadow on her skin. I put my hand to her face, to her perfect face, and run my thumb over her cheek. “You’re—” Another raindrop. “You’re dreaming, darling. Wake up. I love you.”
Haley stirs, the movement so subtle I think it might be me. I hold my breath. Try to stop moving. A stretch in her legs, like she’s wiggling her toes. I don’t dare look down toward her feet.
The fingers on her hand curl in. I gather her arm closer. Take her hand. Squeeze at her fingertips. “Please, darling. Please.”
Her chest hitches, almost like a sigh.
It rises.
It falls.
I put my hand over her heart. Hope is excruciating. It hurts so fucking much. But over that pain, I feel her breath. It’s light. Soft. Like she is.