Page 57 of Deadfall

“Emersyn, listen to me damnit,” he said roughly.

Pain was etched on every line of his face as he gripped my wrist, slippery with blood.

“Who were those men?” I asked.

“My past—” He let out a painful breath. “I knew–I knew they would come—eventually.”

A cold, sinking feeling washed over me. “Is that why you sent me away? I never go that far from the cabin!” I choked on a lump in my throat as anger fought with grief. “I could have helped you!”

Sacha shook his head vehemently. “No—this wasn’t your fight. It was mine. Now, listen—when you leave—”

“I’m not going anywhere!” I exclaimed as the rage pushed through the pain in my heart.

Sacha ignored my protest. “When you leave—call this number—” He said a phone number and made me repeat it several times back to him. “Use the code word ‘sanctuary’ and–and someone—someone will take you where you want to go.”

“But—”

Sacha grabbed my shirt and pulled me close, his eyes urgent and frantic, so unlike his usual calm.

“Promise me, you won’t stay—” he gritted his teeth. “There is nothing left for you here.”

The tears blurred my vision. I pried his hand off my shirt in order to hold it firmly between my own. I nodded. I didn’t trust my voice. He seemed satisfied by my agreement and leaned back against the wall again. He looked out over the room and tried to pull a box toward him. I helped, and with shaking hands, he pulled a photograph from the box.

“I had a daughter,” he rasped as he held it out.

I studied the photo. Sacha had his arm around the shoulders of a young girl with blond braids. He was looking at her with obvious love, while the girl had her arm around him and was laughing in the direction of the camera.

“She’s beautiful,” I stammered.

“I–I refused to teach her,” Sacha continued, his voice pained and thick with emotion I’d never heard from him. “She was killed–because I didn’t—” He paused. “Because, I couldn’t protect her and she couldn’t protect herself.”

I looked back up to see Sacha staring at me with the most open expression I’d ever seen on his face. It was full of pain and anguish of a past he’d been trying to run from.

“You remind me of her.”

I choked on a sob, unable to stop the tears as they streamed down my face. The pain overcame Sacha and he groaned, eyes clenched tightly. I pressed the photo into his hand, then placed his hand against his chest where he clutched the photo tightly to his heart.

“I don’t know what to do,” I gasped around a sob, terrified of being alone again. “I’m not ready—”

“Yes, you are.” Sacha fixed me with a glassy glare. “Small—small stones, yes?”

“Yes, but—”

He tightened his grip on my hand. “Make them pay. For–for everything they took from you—”

“I’ll avenge you too—who were those men, Sacha?”

Sacha shook his head. “My past is my own. You have your own—battle. Forget about mine. Take down the men who hurt you piece by piece until they can’t—until they can’t ignore you anymore.” He coughed and blood ran from his mouth. “Show them what it means to have you as their enemy.”

He grew breathless and his voice faded. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, his breath rattled in his chest with each painful inhale. Fang whined and nuzzled into Sacha’s other side, resting his head on Sacha’s thigh. Death hung in the air as it waited to claim Sacha.

Panic gripped me. I didn’t care what he thought—I wasn’t ready.

Sacha sensed my distress and his hand squeezed mine and his grip brought me back from the edge.

“Breathe, girl—the moment you panic, is–is—” His words faltered.

“Is the moment I lose,” I finished. “I know.”