CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It’s early morning, and I’m lying on my bedroll staring at the sun shining through the window. The orange glow paints the room in brilliant color and warms my skin. Although still reeling under the news that Cole is alive, it’s also as if I’ve been released from a burden I didn’t realize was weighing so heavily on me. Cole didn’t die. He didn’t die because of me, protecting me.
He probably doesn't know I'm alive. I doubt Enzo would bother to share the news in the state I left him, mainly because he lied to me in the first place. I don’t know why, and the knowledge hurts, but I push it aside in the wake of everything else. I’m sorry, too, that Cole is carrying the same weight that I have been, believing me dead, but I also wonder at Jase’s questions last night.
What did Jase see? I don’t know, but it was enough to have him asking me things I wasn’t ready to share for fear of him misinterpreting everything.
Now, I can’t help but think that maybe Cole turned to her in his grief, and now . . . perhaps they truly are what I feared from the beginning: together, even if I’m not sure how their relationship works.
Fuck, I don’t know. All I can do is to be happy that he’s alive and tell him the minute I see him how much he means to me, even if he never returns the words, even if he stays with Marie to take care of her and his baby, at least I assume it’s his baby.
Of course, I will be upset if he chooses her, but I know deep down that everything Cole does is for a reason. He’s mentally incapable of being selfish and always tries to save the person who needs saving the most. The problem is, it’s not usually me. And just like Manny said, Cole has made this his reality. I know this, and I can’t stand in his way. But the selfish part of me wants to tell him to stop being such a dick.
I force Jase to take me on his next stakeout, and Mich pouts when Jase insists she stay behind, but after what I’ve revealed about this place, I don’t blame him for being extra cautious with her.
We walk through the trees before coming upon the abandoned shack. It’s nothing more than a room with a wood stove and musty cot inside. Jase points to a small stand a hundred feet beyond and I eye him curiously until he says, “Maybe a deer stand?”
After climbing the ladder, we sit at the edge and wait for dawn to approach because we won’t see any action until breakfast when people make their way to the diner and daily sermon.
Part of me wants Jase to take the first chance he can get and take Shepherd out, but he resists, telling me we need more intel before he seals the deal. I don’t know what intel that is, but I assume we’ve altered our plan to include saving Cole once Shepherd’s head goes splat.
The wait is interminable, and I’m going out of my mind by the time everyone begins making their way toward the diner. I gaze over the crowd, trying to spot anyone I know, but it’s difficult from this distance. Jase finally spots Cole and allows me to view him through the scope, and I adjust the angle, eager to see his face, gasping when he comes into view.
He looks tired and weary, and the sight makes me teary-eyed but still with a faint pulse of hope in my heart. I’m sure I looked exactly the same these last few weeks thinking he was gone, and I’m so overly excited to see him and wrap him up close. But everything stops painfully, including my heart, when Marie appears and hands him a tightly wrapped bundle and his face lights up, the darkness fading from his gaze. I adjust the scope, confirming that this must be Marie’s baby, before I move back to Cole, and the last flicker of hope dies.
He holds the tiny bundle wrapped in pink blankets close to his chest, and I can’t see the baby’s face, covered as she is, but I don’t need to because I see the complete love and peace that eases Cole’s features when he looks at her.
A tiny sob hitches in my throat, but I push it back. I’ve never seen this expression on Cole’s face, not when he looked at his sister, not when he looked at Sissy, not Marie, not even me. He loves this little girl with everything he has, and he’s happy. Well, maybe happy is a stretch, but he is content.
He’s found his purpose. I can see the duty and the love in the tender way he cradles her close, and with a strange crack in my heart, I realize I can’t take that away from him. I can’t bring conflict and confusion into this. The last time, he was so torn, so unhappy. How can I do that to him?
The answer is I can’t. As fucked up as it is, sometimes love means letting someone go, even if it makes my gut churn. If he can find a slice of happiness in this fucked up world, I have to let him have it.
This may be his only chance, his last chance.
I move away from the rifle, and Jase takes it from my hand with a commiserating glance, but I ignore him as I drop to the floor of the stand on my back and stare at the sky. I finally get it. Love doesn’t mean having someone care for you, take care of you, protect you. Love means being the one that wants to do those things for someone else, and if you’re lucky, and you’re worthy, those who love you would want to do the same.
It doesn’t fix the cracks in your soul, though, and it doesn’t save you from yourself because it’s not supposed to be about you. I’m just sorry it took me so long to realize it. I’m sorry I never told Cole that it was okay, never made him understand that love means letting him go and that it’s okay, that I’m okay as long as he is.
I don’t know how long I sit there and stare at the sky, but eventually, Jase lowers the rifle and lays down beside me, holding my hand while I cry at the sky.
???
The next few days pass quietly. After my mini-breakdown on the hunting platform, I pointed out Shepherd to Jase in the crowd. Jase does more recon, and Mich stares at me while I sit and stare at nothing. I have no appetite, but I force myself to eat. I have no desire to chat, but I push myself to respond because the whole point of letting Cole be happy is allowing myself to be so too.
It’s not easy, but I know with time, I can heal, maybe grow. I don’t know if I can let someone in as I did him, but perhaps I can find someone who is content with what I can give.
We eventually reveal to Mich that Cole is alive and still inside the community, and Jase must explain about Marie and the baby because Mich no longer gives me questioning looks, but I don’t say anything, and neither does she.
We’ve decided that it doesn’t matter when we take Shepherd out. If we’re not going in covertly, then he might as well go quickly and without fanfare. Cole will recognize what’s going on, and he will do what he must to protect his family, and that’s all that matters right now.
Therefore, in three days, Jase will take his rifle back down to the abandoned shack one more time and shoot Shepherd’s brains out before he can make his last sermon. He’ll never enter the building, and many may not even know it’s happened until it’s too late, but it will be done.
Jase will wait to observe what takes place and plan accordingly, and it may take a few days, but with some observation, he can decide when a safe time is to approach and make himself known. If I know Cole, he will have established himself as the one in charge before the day is out, but I won’t be there to see it.
Jase and Michele don’t know it, but I plan to leave. Cole is better off believing me dead, and I know once they realize I am gone, I can depend on them to keep my secret. I plan to leave a note as insurance in case their stupid asses need reminding, though.
The only way to ensure that the expression I saw on Cole’s face never wavers is to excuse myself from the situation and remove any strife I may cause. Maybe it’s arrogant to assume I even still have that power, but I’m not willing to take the risk.