Chapter 14

The next thing I knew David and I were driving down the highway at a breakneck speed, a blizzard swirling around us. We’d left my mother’s place quickly, and he’d opened the door for me to climb into an incredibly formidable automobile. The entire car looked as if it could reflect or absorb light at will, the dark windows blending seamlessly into the luxe matte black paint. Once inside, he strapped me into a cockpit-like contraption as I gaped at the dashboard, glowing with panels and screens. Then he took his seat and my hand, and we were off.

The drive out of the city was beyond surreal. Inside the car, aside from his eyes continually scanning the road and absorbing the constant flow of information flashing at him from the dashboard, he made it feel like we were on a normal, typical date. Still holding my hand, he’d asked if I was comfortable with the temperature, the adjustment of the seat. He’d selected a playlist of some new artists and composers he’d discovered. Did I like this song? He thought I might. Then he would smile, kissing the top of my hand.

All of this was wonderful, as long as I didn’t look outside. Once I did, I was reminded that we were indeed in the middle of a car chase complete with high speed, near misses, and screeching tires, the sound of which could only be heard in the quiet moments between his carefully selected songs. Even then, he steadily talked to me, as if nothing extreme was going on around us.

I figured out pretty quickly that he was able to control the street lights from his ominous dashboard, since despite being on the roads in New York City, we never stopped, constantly in motion amid the stream of traffic. Car headlights flashed in the rearview mirror, pointedly weaving in and out of the traffic, patterned after us, following our every move. Once in a while he would whip us around in an entirely different direction, holding his hand protectively out across me, apologizing for the disturbance.

Somehow, in the middle of the whole scene, he was still able to make me feel like our time together was his priority. At one point he quickly turned down a back road, raced in and out of a parking garage and came to a stop under a bridge, killing all the lights. The spot where we parked was remarkably beautiful, looking out over a small body of water, the city lights gleaming in its glassy reflection. The safe cocoon warmed intimate, private, as if he’d chosen the spot on purpose, for me. And it was quite possible he had.

I took this moment to congratulate him on his last completed mission, ask him where he’d spent his time afterward. He told me about a little village near the Philippines built entirely on water. He loved to go there and immerse himself in the culture of the Bajau people, live off the sea. I asked if he did that often, disappear, completely cut himself off from the rest of the world. He said it was the only way he could carry on with his work. It was how he reconnected with what was real, with the heart of humanity.

I asked if I could go with him sometime to one of his villages, to the one built on water especially, where the men walked on the bottom of the ocean, hunting for their meal as if on dry land, and the women raised their children immersed in the water, swimmers from infancy. He promised to take me someday and to many other places, then leaned in and kissed me so sweetly it took my breath away. Shortly after that, he’d turned the car back on, the engine roaring to life, and we’d taken off again.

That was how we’d ended up on the highway, from what I could tell heading upstate, somewhere in the middle of a snowstorm. His speed reached triple digits once we hit the open road, leaving our potential captors far behind. When I asked where we were going, he just smiled and encouraged me to get some rest. We would be there within an hour or so, and he would feed me and offer me some more water then. I smiled sleepily at his joke and took his advice, dozing off, gripping his hand to my chest.


When I woke, we were entering a small town. A sign welcomed us to the village of East Aurora. The streets were quiet, the snow topped trees and buildings reflecting a shimmer of white in the moonlight. The storm had stopped, and all that remained was the heavy blanket of fresh white powder that would no doubt be gone once the sun rose and melted it away.

I was still in possession of David’s hand and sheepishly released it. He was in no hurry to reclaim it, however, resting it along my leg. Content in this quiet moment together, neither of us spoke as he moved the car through the empty streets, the lampposts peeking out from under their snowy covers, struggling to light our way.

We arrived in front of a set of stone buildings, a castle-like tower looming overhead. The surrounding trees were heavy with snow, their freshly sprung leaves, having collected much from the fall, tipped and bent into billowy pearlescent sculptures. In the center of an open area was a small white event tent, softly lit from the inside, casting a glow across the white unmarred canvas surrounding it.

David guided the car over to park, reached into the back seat and pulled out his suit jacket. He slipped it on me, rolling the sleeves in an attempt to not lose me in the fabric. Then he came around, opened the door, and led me onto the grounds, pausing to dust the snow from a large sign at the entrance of the property.

“The Roycroft Shops,” I read aloud. Then it dawned on me where we were. “You brought me to Elbert Hubbard’s print shop?” I looked to him, both of our faces lighting up. It was one of the places he’d recounted multiple times as part of his visits with Grandfather and was actually where they’d made the chair now sitting in my room.

We made our way to the tent, the inside lit up by twinkle and candle light, and a small beautifully formed copper fire pit that warmed the space completely. We were greeted by a gentleman, who heartily embraced David, apologizing for not being able to get access inside due to the time of night. David thanked him profusely for his kindness in just welcoming us, then the man had gone on his way, promising to clear everything once we were through. There was a small table and an entire meal laid out for us to share. Several clear panels lined the tent walls, allowing a perfect view of the frosted beauty around us while we sat warm inside.

Chatting happily, we ate the home cooked meal. David told me the history of the Roycroft Shops. I knew Elbert Hubbard as an author, but his shops were known to support artisans of all types. The mantle I’d admired in David’s apartment, the blown glass vase, the leather chair in the living room, all were inspired by his time spent here. Robert, the man who’d welcomed us, had been one of his woodworking mentors.

We’d just finished eating, and David was refilling my water glass with a crooked smile on his face, when the slow rise of music began from outside the tent. Robert had returned with a friend, each had a guitar, and as they skillfully started to play, David held out his hand, silently asking me to dance. I walked toward him, the lights casting a soft glow on his face, the harmonic strings of the instruments echoing the pull on my heart. We came together, holding onto one another as we turned in the smallest of circles inside the tent. My chest grew heavy. We were so right, so complete, in this moment. And once he was gone, I’d be left with an aching hole in my chest yet again.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” I whispered. I meant more than just our physical whereabouts, and he knew it. It was still hard for me to believe he was in my life sometimes, never mind that I was in his arms.

“We are here . . . and we’ll be here again.” He pulled me even more tightly to him, his lips grazing my neck as he spoke. “I’ll hold on to that when I can’t hold onto you.”

“I will too.” I promised, resting my head against his chest, his musical heart managing to beat in perfect time to the slowing rhythm.

We danced until the music stopped, and even then swayed in the quiet until he softly said we had to go—he had to go—and took my hand, leading me back out onto the pathway to the car. The cold air hit me like a slap in the face, the icy stillness desperate to overtake me. He was leaving, that was the reality, not the stolen moments we’d been living in all night.

He opened my door for me and guided me in. Neither of us spoke as we headed back out of town, the beauty of the village taunting me with its quaintness. I wondered what glorious and typical lives the inhabitants must have and envied them for it. David held tightly to my hand, his large grasp covering my palm entirely, his fingers gripping around it and onto my leg.

After only a few miles, he turned down a small road and pulled into a flat, open field. It was dark and solemn as we sat waiting for what was to come. I leaned over into him the best I could within the confines of the car, but then I heard it in the distance, the beating blades of the approaching helicopter. My heart raced at the sound, the sound of what would ultimately take him from me.

“Thank you for tonight, for everything,” I murmured into his neck.

“I wish I could do more.”

I kissed his hand, still clenched to mine, and looked up at him and smiled. “Maybe next time you can stick around for a sunrise for a change?”

“I think I can make that happen.” He smiled back as the helicopter lights began to light up the field. “Can I ask something of you?”

“Anything.”

“Go see Ona. She misses you.”

“I miss her too.” I looked down, ashamed it had been so long. “I’ll go this weekend.”

He cleared his throat. “And let her feed you too.”

“Like I’d even have a choice?” We laughed together. Ona would stuff me the minute she saw me. I laced my fingers in his. “Truth? I guess I’ve been avoiding Brooklyn. I really miss the kids at the center. I feel like I’m failing them, but if they’re not safe . . .”

He kissed the top of my hand. “You can’t live your life in fear.”

“But how do I—?”

“You’ve got a mini army of men, right?” He winked.

“So you want me to just issue them orders?” I scoffed at the absurdity.

He leaned his forehead to mine. “I want you to Use. Your. Voice.”

I giggled. “That advice sounds awfully familiar.”

He gave a breathy laugh. “Because it is.”

His laughter faded quickly, and he took my head in his hands, his fingers sliding down my neck. “Please take care of yourself.” One thumb gently ran along my collarbone. “I can’t take both being apart from you and being the cause of your pain.”

“I’m fine. And I’ll be fine.” I rubbed my hand along his chest, trying to ease his fears. “As long as you promise more visits like this.”

His coarse whisper followed a sharp intake of breath. “Will that be enough?”

I knew what he was asking, knew he didn’t expect a reply. Neither of us could possibly know the answer. I pulled back to look at him and spoke the only truth I could. “How could there ever be enough of nights like this?”

The car flashed, brightly illuminated from the helicopter, its searchlights making a mockery of the carefully designed black window tint. His eyes washed over my face one final time, before he kissed me softly and slipped out the door.

The lights from the chopper were blinding, his outline a stark contrast as he headed straight for it. I wasn’t ready for him to leave, probably never would be, but I knew that was not how I wanted to say goodbye. In mere seconds he would be gone, and for how long this time I didn’t know. I threw open the car door and ran toward him, leaping in front of his path. His strong grasp pulled me in, wrapping his jacket tight around me, then his arms, trying to block the wind as it whipped and churned around us.

“Bria, what are you doing? You’ll freeze.”

“You promised me you’d work on your goodbyes,” I playfully scolded, my eyes lighting up at the smile that had spread across his face.

“I did.” His eyes glistened, dancing back at me. I was so happy to see that again before he left.

I reached up and grabbed him by the collar, initiating the kind of goodbye kiss that neither of us would forget. That told him I loved him, because somehow I’d managed to go the night without saying it, and I needed him to know before he left, before the weeks or months passed without any contact between us. He returned my kiss, readily matching the intensity, but stopped more quickly than I’d grown accustomed to or was ready for. With a reluctant look, he peered toward the helicopter. I turned, following his gaze . . . to find Jon, standing rigid at the sight of what he’d just witnessed.

No.

God.

Please.

Jon. Jon! My lungs screamed, but I’d stopped breathing. My vision tunneled to him.

Knowing a painful truth and seeing evidence of it firsthand were two entirely different things, and judging from the recoil of his body, this was not a painful truth he’d been expecting to witness tonight. My heart hurt at his forced effort to recover from the jolt. He jumped down from the chopper as David released his hold on me, whispering into my ear that he loved me too, my message at least received, and then ran toward Jon.

David hugged him. Jon tried to hug him back, one arm refusing to cooperate. They exchanged a few sentences, one of which I swear was David mouthing for Jon to feed me. Then Jon handed him what looked like a new phone and started walking in my direction. And just like that, David took off into the air, looking down over the two of us standing alone in the field.

The silence was deafening once the helicopter was gone. We couldn’t even bring ourselves to look at one another as the darkness quickly eased its way into morning. The sun came up over the horizon, casting its colorful glow onto the muted field of white and gray, just as two cars pulled up behind David’s. Ash and Shai jumped out.

“Bria,” Ash greeted with a happy grin. “Look at you going all renegade on us.” He winked at me and ruffled my hair. “I like it.”

My heartbeat still wound wild, but I laughed, thankful for the break in the tension, and swatted his hand away. Shai merely nodded, more aware that Jon was not quite himself.

“Ash, let’s focus.” Jon cut into our antics. He flipped over his watch, much like David had done back at my place, and punched in a code of some sort. Avoiding my questioning gaze, he reached into his pocket and pulled out my watch, re-clamping it around my wrist. His fingers brushed ever so lightly across my skin before abruptly releasing my hand. “Try not to let it make you feel handcuffed.” He shook his own wrist at me, his eyes shifting away frequently, looking over my face instead of holding my gaze. “It’s not easy once you know.”

I nodded, afraid of my own voice if I tried to speak.

“You can’t ever go off grid alone. No exceptions. Do you understand?”

I nodded again.

“We have to repurpose the vehicle due to last night.” He jerked his head in the direction of David’s car. Behind him, Ash made the motions of an explosion, grinning like a little kid about to play with fireworks. My eyes widened in surprise and Jon sighed, obviously not pleased with Ash’s exuberance over the day’s events. “I’ll be back to the city once it’s taken care of, and Shai will see you home now.”

Ash and Shai exchanged a look at this. They probably couldn’t understand why Jon wouldn’t be the one driving me home. They responded to the news accordingly, taking a few steps back and giving us a moment alone.

Neither of us spoke at first, looking out over the field in opposite directions instead. I decided to try to start the conversation, still not sure what to say. “Jon, I—”

“We have that dinner tonight.” His brisk tone made it clear, he wasn’t ready to discuss anything. Then he softly added, “Try to get some rest on the way back.”

“I’ll be ready in time. I’m sure I look a mess.” I pawed at my hair. It was all windblown from the helicopter.

His eyes finally focused on mine, the colors from the sunrise reflecting in the watery blue of his stare, his pain like sharp needles dragging across my chest.

“No.” He shook his head, resisting the urge to cover his face with his hand. “You’ve never looked more beautiful than you do right now.” He swallowed, his eyes once again looking over my face, his own flashing with a twisted mix of emotion. Then he walked away, climbed into David’s car, and peeled off, white snow spraying off the tires, Ash following closely behind.

“You ready for the ride back down?” Shai asked, cautious, unsure of what had just transpired.

“I guess so,” I answered, the high of David’s presence fading from me as fast as he’d arrived, reality settling in by the minute.