Page 41

getting zero

Christian

“I know why I risked what I did in the fall. No matter how dicey the climb, no matter the hour.”

Of course, she does. Her dreamy voice is mirrored only in the look on her face. My wife, mesmerized by what most take for granted, entirely enchanted by the view.

I step behind her and gingerly wrap my arms around her waist. “Yeah?”

“I mean”—she throws her arms out wide—“how could anyone not?”

I clear my throat. “Because, my love.” I pause, my words tentative. “You’re seeing it again for the first time?”

“Well…” She never finishes the statement. She just stands in the circle of my arms, melting into my chest, breathing as if she can imprint the image on her soul with just one more breath.

I want to be mad. Hell, I am mad. I’m terrified and concerned and always on edge waiting for the next thing, the next moment.

When something else disappears or it all comes flooding back.

Mostly, I hate that she was here, hate that she still justifies this, no matter that she’s the most talented person I know and I want, more than my next breath, for every dream of hers to come true.

“You know, I can’t think of a better place to tell you this.

But you’re incredible. Your talent, your gift, the success you’ve made off years of hard work.

Early mornings, late nights, heavy loads.

The danger—” She stiffens and I squeeze her, hoping she’ll listen.

“The danger I hate. It’s unsafe and it terrifies me.

But your gift is something that has a life of its own.

I’d sooner crush my own arm than dial back your dreams. You deserve every accolade.

I’m so proud of you. So proud to call you my wife. ”

She takes a huge inhale and holds it before letting it go. “Thank you for not putting me in a cage. I’d wither if you constrained me.”

“No disrespect, wife, but you’re not someone who can be constrained. And I don’t want to cage you. I just want you safe as you trek these trails. I know you’re mad about Fitz, but, baby, he’s for your protection, and for my sanity.”

“I’m not mad about Fitz. Well, not anymore. I wish you’d talked to me about it, though.”

“Would you have agreed?”

“Nope.”

I can’t help the laughter as my chest moves against her back. I dip toward her ear. “I’m in love with you, Ayla Barone. Your talent, your heart, your spirit, even your obstinance.”

She sucks in a deep breath before turning in the circle of my arms. Her eyes bore into mine as she lifts onto her toes and presses her lips to mine. I slant my head and take her mouth, taking control of the kiss, pulling her into my body.

When she pulls away, her eyes are dreamy, my second favorite look on her. She glances toward the ledge and asks, her voice so quiet I have to strain to hear, “Where was I?”

Ice pools in my veins. I slide a hand down her arm and lace our fingers together, walking to the area where her equipment was and where her broken body was found.

“There was a tripod here.” I mark an X on the ground. “There was another here and about here.” I dig the heel of my boot into the soil and leaves to mark two additional spots. “These two went over with you if the tripod leg skids in the dirt weren’t tampered with.”

She stares at the spot and then squats to eye level with where her viewfinder would’ve been. She grimaces. “Why here? The shot would’ve been better over here.” She moves three feet to her right. I reach instinctively, and her eyes search my face.

“Back away a little for me?”

She looks over the ridge before her face morphs into the defiant one I know as well as my own. “I’m not prone to falls and, statistically, the chances are so unlikely.”

“Statistically, I’m trying not to lose my shit with you dangerously near where I almost lost you, so please, please, do it for me if you won’t do it for you.”

She makes a face but manages to move two steps away from the ridge, though she can’t help but announce her acquiescence with a gesture that says look, I moved.

Are you happy now? When the relieved look on my face registers with her, she extends an olive branch.

“So cameras were there, there, and there.” She points to the three marks on the ground, before gazing toward the sun breaking toward the west, and continuing quietly, “And where was I?”

I suck in breath, closing my eyes, and swallowing back the rising bile. I lift a finger for her to stay and walk to the edge of the ridgeline, holding my phone over the line and snapping a picture.

“I’m going to want to look.” Her hands rest on her hips though, somehow, she avoids tapping her toe.

“I know, Princess. I wanted to show you here instead of me trying to describe it with you that near the ledge.” I zoom in on the image, hovering my finger near the rock outcropping too far to the left from where her cameras are, now that I actually look at it. Hold up. “What the?—”

“What?”

“It doesn’t make sense how you landed there…

” I leave the sentence dangling as I step to the edge again, staring down at where the EMTs and helo staff said my wife was found.

I’ve seen the pictures. Those images are seared on my brain.

They haunt my nightmares. What the fuck though? How did she get there?

“Christian?”

I return to my wife and zoom out on the image. “You were found here.” I circle the area with my finger so she can see. “Walk with me and I’ll show you, but…”

“But what? You’re scaring me.”

She steps with me back to the ridge that drops below our toes. I hold her around the waist and eventually take a large step back with her when she leans too far over for my comfort.

“I don’t understand why you’re not speaking in complete sentences.”

“Because, Princess. I’m putting two and two together and getting zero.”

She scrunches her brows together, two lines forming between them in confusion. She looks so young when she does that. I glimpse who she was as a teen… or who our daughter will be, and my mouth goes dry.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re beautiful, that’s all. Sometimes it catches me off guard and takes my breath away.”

“Riddles, incomplete sentences, and compliments. My day is complete. You still never answered me.”

I look over the vista again and finally say what my head and heart don’t want to be true. “There’s no way you tripped and fell, Ayla. The momentum it would take to get that far… and that far off course, isn’t physically possible without you taking a running leap. And?—”

“And I’d never do that.”

“And you’d never do that.”

Ayla

So I was pushed or hurled over this ledge. Someone tried to kill me.

I’m shaking. It’s as if I have had an adrenaline surge at the same time my blood sugar bottoms out. I’m vibrating with rage but rooted to the spot.

“Whoa. Come here.” It’s the coaxing in his voice that brings me back to the present. But that doesn’t matter. I can’t move.

Someone tried to kill me. I mean, I knew it. I know it, but there was always that thought that it could’ve been me. I might’ve tripped. Could’ve fallen. Had a clumsy moment and hurt myself.

But that didn’t happen. Someone was okay forcing me over a cliff’s edge, in the dark, and left me here.

“Baby.” The caution in his voice rattles me, but I can’t look away. It’s a car wreck when you know you shouldn’t look—the blood, the gore, the tragedy—but your eyes stray, because they can’t not. “I’m coming to you.”

I think I nod.

“You’re safe.” Quiet footfalls greet me.

“I’m stuck.” I choke on the words.

“You are safe.” Strong arms surround me. The moment they do, my legs stop working, and I collapse.

“Baby.”

“K-k-k-ill.” My voice quakes. “Someone… tried… to kill me.”

He says nothing but holds me tight. The fear and sadness overwhelm me. “Who would do such a thing? Why me?”

The longer he holds me, the more secure I get.

The more secure I get, the clearer my brain becomes.

Two things are certain. First, it wasn’t my husband.

He was just as shocked as I was, just as confused seeing it in person.

That was no act. And second, I’m pissed as hell that someone tried to end me, and in trying, made me forget some things that should never be forgotten.

“I’m. Fucking. Pissed.”

“That’s my girl.” The smile in his voice is unmistakable even if his face is serious as a heart attack. “You ready to go home?”

I nod against his chest, knowing he can feel it. “Home.” I say back, not giving away that for the first time since I woke up, it means something different. He’s safe. That’s my home. I can exhale knowing both of those things.

The hike down pushes both my mental and emotional limits. The physical? Well, tomorrow will tell that tale, but I suspect I’ll be sore and glad for it. The view was worth it. The reality that view levied was too.

More than an hour later, I open the back door to the warmth of something Corinne has cooking on the stove, beef something and some kind of bread.

Good thing I hiked. Between the sweets this morning, and the bread tonight, I need the exercise.

After the revelation yesterday, the bank heist this morning, and today at Beaver Brook, I’m tapped out.

I want a nap, but the hot tub will have to do.

“Hey, Corinne.” I smile as the older woman leaves the butler’s pantry.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Barone.”

“It smells delicious. How much time do we have before it’s ready?”

“Corinne.” Christian’s deep voice fills the space.

“Mr. Barone,” she replies in the same tenor as her comments to me.

“Dinner needs another hour or so, Mrs. Barone. I can have it ready any time after that.”

A glance at my phone shows it’s nearly five. “Would six thirty work?”

“It’s perfect. I’ll have it on the table then.”

I twist over my shoulder. “That work for you, Honey?”

“Absolutely. I need to check in with work.” He turns to Corinne. “Thank you.”

I wave to them both and head to the bedroom. I strip off my clothes, wrap my wind-mussed hair into a knot on top my head and grab my phone before sliding into the hot tub.

I find some spa music on one of the apps and dial the volume where it doesn’t overpower the sounds outside but enhances what little nature is still out to play. Bubbles skim over my skin as the heat permeates my weary muscles, and I close my eyes to allow my body to feel and my mind to rest .

I have no idea how long I sit here. I don’t think I’ve fallen asleep, but a gentle nudge on my shoulder is more of a waking from a nap than a surprise. Christian extends a stem with deep red wine in it before climbing in next to me with his own.

He says nothing. The silence is neither loaded nor is it awkward. It’s two people who don’t have to fill all the spaces. It’s unusual but feels… right.

He eventually sets his glass aside and takes mine when it’s empty and does the same. “Today was… a lot.”

“Yeah. But it settled some things for me, too, and I can’t say there’s not some relief in that.”

“Relief isn’t a word I would assume would be associated with today.” He takes my hand under the water and tugs me closer to him, our sides in full contact. He rests our joined hands on his thigh. His very naked thigh.

“Working with facts is a whole lot easier than conjecture.”

“Always. Want to tell me about it?”

“Not really. Is that okay with you?”

He squeezes my hand on his thigh, releasing it and placing it on that solid muscle before his covers it, playing along the length of my fingers. “Of course. There’s something I want to tell you… about the conservatorship.”

I shake my head, staring out over the “patch,” as he called it, reveling in the peace. “Not tonight. I’m on overload and I don’t have the capacity to think anymore.”

“Okay, baby,” he says with a kiss to my temple. “But soon. You need to know.”

I keep my gaze at a distance. The air is crisper as night falls, the steam is visible as it rises, and the chlorine tickles my nostrils. “Mundane things only for the rest of the night.”

“Done.” The smile in his voice is unmistakable. “I love when you call me Honey when it’s not tart and snarky.” He runs a finger up the outside of my thigh. “Not that I mind your snark.”

A chill slithers through me.

“Are you cold?”

“No. I’m content. And after how crazy the last twenty-four hours have been, I’m not complaining about content. I have questions. I have things to sort through that make no sense. But, in this moment, here, with you, the only word I have is content.”

“At some point, you need to tell me about what happened with your mom and dad.” He sees my protest and holds up a hand, his fingers barely breaking the surface. “Not tonight. That’s certainly not mundane. Tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” I grab his arm and lean in closer. It’s not sexual. It’s intimacy. It’s closeness for the sake of closeness. I eventually drop my head onto his shoulder. “Thank you for today, Honey. It was shit and it was worth it. And I’m grateful.”

He shakes his head as if he can’t understand but keeps me there, glued to his side, as the sun plays hide and seek with the Rocky Mountains.

We sit in companionable silence, staring out over the vibrant orange spray of the sunset until only the palest pink remains, giving way to the dance of stars.

“It’s well after six thirty,” he murmurs to my temple. “Are you ready for dinner?”

I nod against his skin. “Is Corinne still here?”

“She was leaving within minutes of me coming out here. And that was at least an hour ago. It’s just us.”

“Didn’t you have work you needed to do? I assumed you’d be in your office until we ate.”

“My gorgeous wife stripped and walked naked, bold as brass, outside to climb in the hot tub. I was… distracted.”

“Your wife was tired and sore and wasn’t trying to distract you.”

He turns, our faces so close our breaths mingle. “Everything about you has always distracted me. From the moment we met, and it’s never dampened. I see you or even a picture of you and I have to fight my brain to focus on anything else. Tonight wasn’t worth the fight.”