Page 43

43

SAWYER

A fter lunch, we head outside. Jamie takes my hand and tugs me toward an empty path along the river.

“Do you mind if we talk outside for a few minutes, Sauce?”

It’s cold and overcast, but I sense something from him that makes me say, “No, I don’t mind.”

He removes his scarf and wraps it around my neck before zipping my coat up to my chin. Then, he raises my hood, effectively bundling me up like a child. My heartbeat stutters at the gesture. The way he’s trying to protect me from the cold, at his own expense, can’t fail to matter. Jamie takes my hand and puts it in his pocket with his own, tying us together.

“Once I start, don’t say anything till I’m done.” Jamie grimaces as he glances around. “It’s the only way I’ll be able to get to the end.”

It’s hard to imagine what would be so difficult that someone as tough as Jamie wouldn’t be able to talk about it. I glance between him and the cobbled path where I’m trying to keep my feet so I don’t step off into the mud. Drawing in a deep breath, I nod. If he’s going to confide something important, I wouldn’t dream of interrupting. I want him to let me in.

“My brother Jude and I were best mates our whole lives. We fought of course, on and off, as all brothers do, but on the whole, we got on. Less than two years apart in age, as I told you.” Jamie tilts his head, staring into the middle distance with a small smile. “He could be really silly. At times, too much so for the others in our family, but not for me. Jude made me laugh like no one else could. I never went anyplace without him. It’s just how it was.” Jamie slows around a curve and pauses where the path is submerged in a murky puddle. Turning to face the water, he tightens his grip on my hand in his coat pocket. “The day it happened, we were meant to go fishing. Jude had to pee, so he stopped at a tree near the road. I climbed all the way down with the fishing poles and our tackle box.”

Jamie’s body is so rigid now, he could be a pole himself. “He was seven, by the way. But small for his age.” He puts a hand out to gesture how tall that was. Not very. “There was a noise—I can’t remember what. A shout from Jude or something. I looked up, and a man was standing over him, so close there was no way for Jude to get away in time. The guy snatched him up and carried him toward the road with Jude screaming and fighting to get free. Ever been in a car crash where you’re hit from behind? Suddenly, the world’s upended, and your mind struggles to understand what’s happening. For a split second, that’s how it was for me. Confusion. It was so surreal.

“When I saw the man’s expression as he looked at Jude, I knew what he had it in his mind to do. I scrambled up to the road as fast as I could, hoping my brother would manage to break free. But he hadn’t.”

My heart cracks, and I feel sick, understanding, too, what’s coming.

Jamie doesn’t look at me. Instead, he stares at the brush on the side of the path, probably seeing nothing but his memories anyway. “I ran flat out. Once clear of the trees, it’s easy to see the road for miles. I spotted the car in the distance and kept going, running as hard as I’d ever run. By the time I got there—to the abandoned stone cottage—the assault had already taken place. The man had gone. He left Jude tied to a pipe, planning to come back for more, I suppose. I’ve always wondered if the man had to leave so he wouldn’t be missed. Maybe by family or business associates. Or if he left in case someone had summoned the guard—the police—and he was watching for the coast to be clear for him to come back. Doesn’t matter. The damage was done. Though, I didn’t understand how badly at the time.”

Jamie’s jaws work as he clenches his teeth. “In my mind, it was a rescue. Jude was found and came home alive that day, so I thought he would be all right. Yeah, of course, he was upset. But that would fade, surely.”

He shrugs slowly. “Except, it didn’t fade. It ate away at him. And I took some bad advice. My dad claimed Jude would be better off if we all pretended it never happened. So, when Jude tried to bring it up, I cut him off and swept it aside, changing the subject. I failed him on the day of the assault because I didn’t get there soon enough to stop it. But I failed him way worse on all the days that followed. Every time I shut him down, he had to face those demons alone. The guilt and shame were killing him. And I—” Jamie’s voice cracks, and he covers his eyes and rubs them with his free hand. “I let him die alone.” Drawing in a breath, he shakes his head.

He doesn’t cry, but it’s there under the surface, threatening like storm clouds. “He hung himself. I found him, as I should do. He left me a note to tell me how sorry he was. He was sorry. That fucking gutted me. As if any of us deserved an apology. Least of all me.”

I’m crying now, quietly but decidedly. I can’t stop myself. Hopefully he understands he could cry in front of me, too, and I wouldn’t think less of him.

Jamie jerks me to face him and wraps his arms around me in a hug, as though I’m the one who needs comforting. “Found the journal later.” His voice is distant and steady, the recalling of it hard worn in his head, apparently. “Read the things the man said to him. About how he was the most beautiful boy. About how he’d been meant for him. Utter fucking rot. Things meant to twist a kid’s mind into thinking he somehow deserved to be kidnapped and raped.”

I press the heel of my hand against my eyelid, trying to get control of myself. I want to hear everything Jamie’s telling me because the last thing I’d ever do is ask him to repeat anything that hurts him so much.

“Jude wrote about how our dad took him to buzz off his blond hair so he wouldn’t look like such a ‘pretty boy.’ And how Da didn’t want him to be in the school play. He wanted him to play rugby and told him he’d need to eat more so he wouldn’t be so skinny. Jude felt ashamed and disgusted with himself. He was made to believe he liked ‘the wrong things.’ He even wondered if it was partly because of what happened—did he like acting in plays more than playing rugby because a man had forced him to be a girl for him? Those words, ‘be a girl for him,’ I don’t think my brother came up with them on his own. Sounds like something Dad and my sister said, which… I’m the most to blame for losing him, but my whole fucking family shares in it. Those two especially.”

Jamie’s more in control of his grief now because he’s angry. His voice is laced with the kind of fury you find in cornered animals. It takes several moments for his harsh breathing to ebb into a normal rhythm. My arms stay locked around him the whole time, as if he’ll fly away if I don’t.

“We thought the man who grabbed him might be American. It’s why I came to the States. I’m hunting him. And he’s not been the only one. I’m very good with computers and hacking. I got good because I wanted to find them.” He exhales a mirthless sigh. “I catfished pedophiles using old pictures of me or Jude. Once I hooked one, I’d steal passwords, drain bank accounts, tip off the police to kiddie porn on their systems. Anything to ruin their lives the way they did to the kids they prey upon. As I got older and stronger, I tricked them into meeting me, so I could beat them into the fucking ground before I destroyed them with a hundred keystrokes. My rage against that kind of man is something that’s very, very hard to control.” His breath is hot against the top of my head.

After several moments, he whispers the word “sorry” into my hair. “You’re half frozen, Sawyer. Come on. Let me get you inside.”