The Dark and Hollow Places - Carrie Ryan [48]
“If he stops caring about you, you become useless to us. Well, to me. Perhaps some of my men would find a use for you. And if you start to cause trouble trying to escape or having a bad attitude that brings morale down …” He pauses, a wide grin breaking over his face. “Then we’ll get rid of you.
“Remember this: Catcher is what matters. You’re just ancillary to that end.”
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to force more distance between us. His point made, he takes a step back, his shoulders relaxed as if he hasn’t just threatened me and my sister.
“No matter what you’re thinking right now, I’m not a bad person,” he says. I snort in response, rolling my eyes, which causes him to laugh. “I’m a fair leader—that’s how I got to where I am. But I’ll give you another warning: be careful around my men. Some of them are good and honest guys and some aren’t. The thing is, they know I always side with them, and you should too.”
With that he claps a hand on my shoulder, squeezing hard to remind me of his strength. “Welcome to the Sanctuary,” he rumbles, then turns and starts through the door.
“Wait,” I shout, chasing after him. “What about my sister? I want to see her and Elias and Catcher.”
He pauses and glances out one of the windows lining the other side of the hallway before pointing to a door at the end of the corridor. “Follow the stairs up to the main level and through the glass door. It’ll lead you to the courtyard—you’ll find them there.”
As I race up the stairwell I hear Ox laughing behind me, but I drown him out with my pounding feet. I climb the last few steps and run toward a door with a narrow window set along one side. The glass is yellowed and aged, laced through with metal wires. It makes everything outside look like an old photograph.
Through the window I see Elias sitting on a bench, Catcher standing on the far side of the courtyard, his back to both of us. My heart rushes with relief, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I’m just about to turn the knob and bolt outside when Elias jerks his head up, his body freezing.
A door opens to my right and a girl races out, white-blond hair trailing behind her. Her squeal of joy is muffled by the thick window between us but nothing dulls the look on Elias’s face.
The pure joy and adoration.
She throws her arms wide and he reaches for her, grabbing her around the waist and spinning her so that her legs kick in the air. He stumbles under her, losing his balance, and they fall into a thick patch of snow-dusted grass, her landing on top of him with her body pressed against his.
That’s when I get a clear look at her face: it’s mine. It’s me. My blood refuses to pump, my mind to process what’s going on, my lungs to draw breath.
I watch myself lean over Elias, clean hair falling over my shoulder and skirting the edges of his jaw. Him reaching up a hand to tuck it behind my ear. My fingers touching Elias’s cheek and him smiling, his eyes seeing only me.
There’s nothing in the world except for me and Elias.
Except it isn’t me. I’m here in the hallway. I’m just a spectator as he reaches up his hand to her left cheek. Traces his thumb along the edge of her lip.
And because it isn’t me on top of him, because it isn’t me he’s touching, there are no scars. The skin’s flawlessly smooth.
Because he’s not touching me. He’s touching my sister, Abigail.
Then and there my heart shatters—shards of it slicing through my skin, razor sharp along each and every scar covering my body.
Abigail smiles, her expression purest joy, and Elias can’t help but grin back at her, his eyes bright with love as he pulls her face to his and kisses her.
It’s passion and need and worship as his hands tangle in her hair and she grabs for his shoulders.
It’s white-hot pain searing through me. He nibbles at her ear and she swats at him, laughing, and he grabs her hands and pulls her to him again. Pulls her fully against him. Over him and along him. I can’t hear the words he speaks