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His mind was clearing a bit. He remembered the fight now. With Peter. Hays had killed him. He felt regret even though the man would’ve killed him. Too many deaths. Too much death. All he wanted was Liz.
Please, Father, he prayed.
“How long have I been under?”
“Five days.”
“Five days.” That popped his tired eyes open. He tried to sit up and agony ripped through his abdomen.
Jagger pinned his shoulders. “Don’t. Come on, don’t be an idiot. Let yourself heal.”
“I have to get to her.”
“Dude. She’s hiding from everyone.”
“Not me.”
The look in Jagger’s eyes said Hays was lying to himself.
No!
He’d prove his friend wrong. As soon as he could clear his mind, sit up in bed, and get out of this hospital.
His eyes closed and the black fog swirled.
Chapter
Twenty-One
It was late August in Ittoqqortoormiit, Greenland, which meant sometimes they’d see highs of forty-seven degrees Fahrenheit. Elizabeth smiled to herself as she exited the cottage and felt the sting of the chilly breeze on her face, wondering how she’d last through a dark, cold winter. If Hays were here, it would be a different story. They’d keep each other warm. Tugging the hood of her parka over her ears, she walked circles around the small yard.
She hated that she’d left Hays before he woke, and that nobody but she and Paul knew where she was. Would she and Hays ever be together? It was for Hays’s safety as much as her own that she was hidden away. Had he gone into hiding? She’d begged Quaid, Aiden, and his friend Jagger to make certain he went somewhere safe.
She was safe in the beautiful village of three hundred and fifty people. Paul had rented one of the brightly painted cottages next to the sea. They’d been here for over a month now. She didn’t go into town or converse with anyone but Paul, just in case. She was free, in many ways, but her father still held her captive in that she couldn’t be with Hays or live in the open.
She enjoyed this simple lifestyle—cooking, cleaning, taking care of herself, reading, going on walks, answering to no one. If Hays were here, it would’ve been heaven.
Paul was a great guy, a strong man of faith. Was it a coincidence he was who she’d spent the last month with? At her insistence, he’d read scriptures and discussed them with her. He’d taught her how to pray. He had brought her a journal from town shortly after they arrived, and she had written volumes. All the ugliness, pain, and murder from her childhood, all the feelings. It was great therapy. She had burned the first journal late one night, and it had felt good. Like burying her weapons of war. She was far from forgiving her parents, but the festering hatred and fear were behind her.
Her second journal focused on good memories of Quaid and Jacey, the few things she remembered about Nanny Maria, and then she focused on every interaction with Hays—every smile, knock-knock joke, touch, and kiss. She remembered them all perfectly, and they filled the second journal. She kept it on her nightstand next to the Bible Paul had gifted her and re-read entries often.
According to reports, her father was in hiding, stripped of his money and his connections, his guards arrested or dead. It was only a matter of time until he struck. He likely had financial reservoirs and connections that she didn’t know about. He’d return to power at some point. She knew him too well.
She was healing and trusting in heaven. Today she’d prayed and felt peace about her decision. She would ask Paul to contact Aiden on the secure phone when he returned from town. If Hays hadn’t given up on her, she wanted Paul to share their location with him. Aiden had cautioned her to wait two weeks ago when Hays had left the hospital. ‘All eyes would be on him’, Paul had said. Aiden hadn’t told them where Hays had gone after his release.
Would he come for her? She tingled at the very thought and hugged herself. She missed him with every breath. Yet he couldn’t come for her if Aiden wouldn’t let her share where she was.
Reaching the bluff above the sea, she was grateful that the cottage was farther away from ‘town’ and it was rare someone walked their direction. She could at least get outside and do short rotations in the yard, breathe in the fresh, clean, crisp air. Would there ever be a day she could meet other people? Live without the threat of her father coming after her? If Hays were by her side, she wouldn’t need anyone else.
Footsteps approached. Paul was back from the market. She turned.
Not Paul.
Hays strode around the corner of the house.
Elizabeth gasped and put a hand over her mouth.
He was strong, confident, healed, that determined look in his deep-brown eyes that she loved. He was still the handsome, easy-going Hays, but his warrior side was out now. He would find her and make her his.
