Page 74 of Bitter Truth
“But I do,” Garrett cuts me off. “You’ve been a very ungrateful guest. I want you to think about that while I’m gone. And what you can do to try and make it up to me when I get back.”
He gives Jake a shove toward the door, but Jake plants his feet, refusing to leave. I cover my eyes, afraid of what I might see. My voice is thick with grief as I say, “Jake, please. I love you.”
His voice is full of defeat as he answers, “I love you too, Cassie. Always have. Always will. You’ll find a way to get through this.”
But as I lower my hands until our eyes meet, I’m not sure that I will. Because Jake didn’t saywewould get through this. He believes that I alone will survive what happens. And I’m terrified that he might be right.
This is all my fault. If I had told him what I had planned, he wouldn’t be here right now. He’d be safe.
Until this moment, this was only about me. I’m theone Janine wants gone. I’m the one who caused this to happen.
Now, I can only pray that the consequences are mine alone to bear, that Janine’s reach will be enough to keep Jake safe. The grin that Garrett gives me as he shoves Jake outside, though, let’s me know that it’s not.
I’m on my way across the room before the door is even closed. It slams with a deafening bang. I’m close enough to hear the lock click. Grabbing the knob, I give it a twist, but it won’t move.
Dropping to my knees, I study the latch. The strike plate has a raised bar, concealing the deadbolt. There’s no way to get to it to try and pry it open.
I look around for something to knock the pins on the hinges up, but the only things I see that might work are the nails holding the crates together. Even if I managed to pry one of the crossbars off, I’d have to then get one of the nails out of the wood in order to use it and most appear to have been driven in at an angle. There’s no telling how long that might take to do with my bare hands.
I’m trapped. If I don’t get out of here, Jake is dead. Even if I do, I have no idea how I’ll be able to find him to save him. But one thing at a time.
There are no windows in the building. Just corrugated metal walls. The concrete floor. The ventilation fans on the ceiling, two stories up. My gaze trails from the slowly spinning blades to the towers of crates beneath them.
It’s a crazy idea. I’ll probably break my neck trying. But what’s the alternative? I wait for Garrett to come back and find out what he has in store for me?
I walk over to the highest tower of crates. Try to gauge how far it is from the nearest fan opening. Realizeit doesn’t really matter and start climbing.
Placing the toe of my tennis shoe on the thin crossbar, I reach up as high as I can. My arms tremble as I pull myself up. My legs do, too. It’s a shock to discover how weak my body feels. How quickly fatigue sets in. The way my head begins to throb, my pulse making the tender flesh over my bruised temple ache.
But the pain doesn’t make me give up. Instead, it takes my despair and turns it into something else. Fury.
I’m enraged by the men out in the woods. By Garrett. But most of all, by Janine. And the best revenge will be getting out of here and living a long, happy life with her son.
I vow to do exactly that as splinters gouge into my palms. My fingernails bend painfully and break. The rusty head of a nail snags against my shin, tearing my skin open. Each new injury fuels my anger and strengthens my resolve. Iwillget out of here.
There was a time when this climb wouldn’t have been a challenge for me. When I would have done it just for kicks. Suddenly, my weight isn’t such a heavy burden on my limbs as memories wrap themselves around me, drawing me back into the past.
I’m four years old. Jake and I sit side by side on the branch of an oak, swinging our legs. A warm breeze ruffles the leaves around us. The scents of the swamp, sulfur and sweet grass, tickle my nose.
Tipping my head back, I peer through the branches above us. Jake wraps one of his hands around my arm. Holds onto me as he warns, “Careful.”
Shifting my gaze to his, I ask, “What do you think the sky feels like?”
“Like the air around us. It’s the same.”
Shaking my head, an act that threatens to upset mybalance, causing his grip on me to tighten, I say, “I mean the sky up there.” I point toward the patches of blue visible through the canopy above us. “I want to touch it.”
“Cassie,” he warns.
“I’m going.”
“It’s too high. It isn’t safe.”
“Will you come with me?”
I hold out my hand. Jake looks at it for a long minute before he takes it and smiles, revealing his missing front tooth.
“Always.”
