But it felt like the worst kind of betrayal when Lola and Enzo showed up out of the blue, dirty but fed. When I saw her at the gate with that fuckwad Enzo, and I couldn’t run to her, hold her, tell her how relieved I was to see her, my heart sank in my chest. I wanted to tell her how I’ve thought about her, missed her, dreamed about her since we parted, and how seeing her now revived something in me that was dead. I wanted to tell her I loved her, but once again, I decided I couldn’t risk her life, not even to spare her feelings.
So, I watched as my decisions hurt her, again and again, and I felt the sharp sting of regret every time I looked into her big blue eyes clouded with hurt, doubt, and misery. I put my fist through a wall and puked my guts out after I told her I wanted Marie because she made me feel free of my past.
Because the truth that I couldn’t tell Lola that day and every day after is that Marie may have provided some small bit of respite from the pain, the heartache, the regret, and guilt, but I would rather have drowned in them with Lola than not have her, and every breath I took without her near seared my lungs. I tried, I tried so hard to stay away, to not look at her, not breathe her in.
My heart broke into a million tiny little pieces when she congratulated me on Marie’s pregnancy, and I wanted to go to her and hold her and deny everything. Still, I couldn’t because Lola’s safety was more important than her feelings. I should’ve trusted her with the truth, with my fears and the situation. In this, I always failed her because even though I recognized her strength and that she could’ve handled the subterfuge, I still made the arrogant decisions that left her hurt and confused in the end.
I didn’t trust myself, not with my own feelings and vulnerability, so how could I trust her with anything else? Now that she’s gone, I replay those moments with her over and over again, wishing that I had been honest with her about everything.
“Do you need any help?” Michele asks.
“No, Mich. I’m good, thanks though.” She nods and leaves me at the juncture in the road.
Now that Marie is moving in with Marcus, I no longer need the home, and frankly, I associate it with a lot of less than stellar memories. So, I’ve decided to relocate to one of the designated dormitories closer to the downtown area, which is now co-ed.
Shepherd died a week after Amber was born, far too early for her to have been my child because I was barely at the community six months when she gave birth, and we hid it for as long as we could, but Shepherd had spies everywhere. We were preparing to take our things and escape when his head was blown out one early spring morning.
The rifle’s report was familiar to my ears, and I immediately exited the hall and made my way outside to find Shepherd lying on his side with half his head splattered across the sidewalk. I was hardly sad at the sight but certainly surprised and searched the area, marking the places a sniper could have hidden out and taken a shot. There was a reasonable likelihood that we were in danger, but when no more shots were fired, we eventually surmised that this was personal and specific to Shepherd.
Many cried while others stared in shock and relief. Enzo came up to Shepherd’s body on the sidewalk and stared at it for a while before dusting off his hands and saying, “Well, that’s that.”
I’ve never asked Enzo what happened to Lola. I know she considered him a friend, but I saw the hole that he was digging himself with Shepherd’s help, and I worried she would get caught in the crossfire. In the end, I think she did, even if he insists he tried to save her. I don’t trust him, even now, and keep an eye on him when he’s around.
He’s been holed up mostly, maybe nursing his own emotional wounds because asshole or not, being Shepherd’s right-hand man had to have created some crazy backlash. Right or wrong, though, I will never forgive him for leading Lola out of that room, just like I will never forgive myself for not doing more to save her.
I waited for the end of the sermon because I wanted to spare Marie, but when I emerged and headed straight for Shepherd’s home, Enzo intercepted me and said it was done. After that, I existed in a haze of rage and pain that boiled beneath the surface until Marie begged me to live because she still had the baby to protect. At her tearful plea, I gave in and forced myself to get out of bed and move. After all, I let this happen out of a misguided sense of duty. How could I not try to save what was now most important?
Otherwise, Lola’s death would have been in vain.
When Jase and Michele showed up at the gate a few days after Shepherd’s death, I was overcome, and slowly they’ve brought me out of the darkness. I know I will never truly be whole, though.
And I can’t get past the thought that if only Lola had survived just a little bit longer, if I had stayed away like I should have, if I had never accepted the duty of protecting Marie and her baby, we’d all be together again.
They explained that a former member of the community approached Jase about Shepherd when they learned of his sharpshooting skills, after which they concocted the plan to take him out because Jase, much like me, couldn’t live with the thought of innocent people hurting. Although it all seemed too easy, I knew this wasn’t a novel meant to build the tension and suspense—this was real life, and whoever this person was, they had convinced Jase that Shepherd was a threat that needed to be removed.
Jase and Michele have settled right in and helped with the fallout from Shepherd’s death. People were shocked, scared, relieved, and some even grieved because their whole existence was contingent on the shared delusions of a man who wanted nothing more than to control the world, and I’m not sure we will ever know the level of his perfidy.
No one has been asked to leave the community yet, but I think a few will eventually have to go, Enzo included. For now, we are focusing on evaluating what we didn’t know because Shepherd controlled it so tightly, including how much food we actually have, the use of finite resources, and how to rebuild our psyches after an extended period of mind rape.
The afternoon flew by as I helped Marie pack up her meager belongings and the baby supplies we had managed to collect over the past few months. I spent some time with little Amber, hugging her to my chest and reveling in her sweet face and baby smell, before handing her back to her family and heading to my new living quarters.
Jase and Mich decided to move into the unit next to mine, so we’re officially neighbors, although he’s been avoiding me, and I haven’t confronted him about it yet. I’ve been so caught up in the community and their needs that I’ve let that fall by the wayside, but I can’t shake the feeling he’s disappointed in me, and he definitely should be. But the question is, what for this time?
I chose to move into Lola’s room, the one she occupied before she was partnered with Enzo. The thought haunts me because I can’t help but wonder if they ever had sex. I don’t think so, but I still torture myself because Enzo is clearly a good-looking guy.
Maybe that’s why I couldn’t stay away. Every time I saw them together, anger and jealousy would eat at me. When I fucked her on the couch in their new home, I was scared and angry. Fearful for the kids I couldn’t save, mad at myself for doing nothing about it, but I meant what I said to Lola. She was too important to risk for them.
Our union was rough and fast, but perfect and wonderful, and then I ruined it by getting angry with her. I’m not the most patient man, I get it, but I could have tried harder. I should have done more to make every moment we were together more special.
Instead, I’m left with her memory. This motel room has been vacant since Lola occupied it, and I walk back to the room she slept in and lay my head down on the pillow, smelling the last of her tart but warm scent before I fade off into sleep.
???
LOLA
Mich, always know that I love you so much. You gave me something that I never had before—acceptance and love. Well, don’t hate me, but I’m asking for that acceptance and love one more time. I can’t stay. I can’t be the person who comes between Cole and someone he loves again. You understand, right? Love means giving that person what they need to be happy, not what you need. Anyway, please don’t tell him I’m alive. Let his tortured soul be at rest. XO, Lola
*****
Lola's left behind her friends and the chance at love but Cole’s determined now more than ever to show her that he cares. Of course, with the Turned around every corner and bad guy’s who won’t freaking quit, the fight isn’t over.
Will Lola & Cole find their way back to each other? Or will the sucky hand of fate keep them apart?