29

Ugh. Kasia’s head swam and throbbed, swam and throbbed.

“Kasia? Can you hear me?” That was A.J.’s voice, right? “Open your eyes.”

She tried for a split second, but her head ached, the pain constant and awful. “Too bright.”

Footsteps, then Jayce’s voice. “Kyle, get on the mic. Find a doctor.”

More voices, and then a thud beside her. “Kasia. It’s Zan. Can you look at me?”

“It’s too bright,” A.J. said for her.

“Here,” he said. “Try now.” His voice had moved in front of her.

Her head still pounded, but maybe whatever Zan had done worked. Scrunching up her face, she cracked one eye a slit. It was better. She opened her eyes and found A.J. kneeling right beside her head, holding her hand.

“What happened?” Zan asked. Kasia tried to make out the dark mass in front of her. It sounded like Zan, but what in the world was he doing?

“Do you think you can sit up?” A.J. asked.

“Probably, but that doesn’t mean I want to.” Seriously.

“We shouldn’t move her until somebody checks her out anyway,” Zan said. He turned and shouted into the crowd, “Where are we on finding a doctor?”

That’s when she figured out why Zan’s voice was shrouded in darkness, why it blocked out the too-bright flames. He knelt, spread his sweatshirt out behind his head, giving her a shadow to hide in. Good thing they were next to the fire. He’d freeze in just that T-shirt.

“I’m a paramedic,” somebody said. He rushed over.

“Good.” Kyle’s voice was right behind the blur of the paramedic.

The guy immediately started hounding her with a penlight. She couldn’t tell if he preferred the interrogating or the poking and prodding more. He never asked the right question though.

“Blake.”

“What?” Zan snapped.

A.J. leaned down. “You saw him? Here?”

Her head swam for a second. She breathed deep. Equilibrium slowly returned.

“Something hit my neck, and I…I don’t know why I fell.” Unless it was possible to collapse from sheer shock and disbelief. She’d never expected Blake to actually hurt her. He’d always made empty threats. But this…

“Let’s have a look, all right?”

Soft, cold fingers gently turned her head. Penlight whistled. And Zan swore. The fire suddenly brightened. Zan was still there, but he wasn’t holding his shirt up.

“Kosh.” A.J.’s voice was too whispery.

Kyle and Jayce mumbled something to each other, and Kasia didn’t like their tone. Her vision was still blurry.

The shadow came back, clearing its throat. “I’m…I’m sorry I cussed. You said you saw Blake. Did he do this?” He sounded furious. She didn’t answer right away.

Penlight was being as gentle as possible, but her neck was so sore. He prodded a particularly sensitive spot and she inhaled through her teeth. “Do you think you can sit?”

He slowly helped Kasia sit up. She closed her eyes for a moment, found her balance.

When she opened them, Jayce squatted beside A.J. “Kosh, where’d ya see him?”

“Over there.” She pointed. Twenty feet away, two o’clock. “Right before I fell.”

“On it.” Jayce was gone before she could take a deep breath.

“Me too.” Kyle started off in the other direction but stopped suddenly. “Kasia?”

She looked up at Kyle, sucked in air at the pain.

“You should call your dad. He’ll want to be all over this.”

The words stung as much as whatever Penlight was dabbing on her neck. For all kinds of reasons. Kasia had broken her promise to Tatuś and gotten herself hurt. She had to admit she was in way over her head. And there’d be no way to avoid the protective order after this.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t pretend this wasn’t crazy serious. And terrifying.

Blake wasn’t playing.

~*~

Zan knelt beside her, his heart ripped in two directions. Leave Kasia to help find the jackleg who hurt her and beat him within an inch of his life, or stay and make sure she was all right.

Kasia won.

Zan’s shoulders burned from holding his sweatshirt up for so long. He’d brought it down for a bit, and then raised it again. His shoulders were strong, but it’d been, what, ten minutes? He’d never tested their stamina before. “You good with the light now? Or do you want me to keep holding this?”

“Um, I’m a little chilly. Can I wear it?” she asked.

“Of course.” He offered it, and she frowned.

“Never mind. I—can you get the hoodie out of my backpack for me?”

“I’ll get it,” A.J. said. She mouthed, “And call her parents.”

“Just one more moment,” the paramedic said. “Bandaging this, and then I need to peek at the back of your head. I think you just jarred it from the fall itself.”

“What about my neck?” She sounded so lost.

“You’ve got an abrasion there, but it’s going to bruise deeply. I’d like you to change the bandages twice a day. Do you have antibiotic ointment?”

She nodded, winced.

“Use that. I saw a few pieces of black debris, and pulled them out easily. It appeared to be asphalt.”

Was he kidding? The loser pulled up a chunk of pavement and hit her with it? Zan couldn’t keep his questions to himself anymore. “Is there any danger of whiplash or concussion? Anything like that?”

“It’s possible. She should be watched closely tonight, woken every half-hour or so. Will you…” He appeared to be searching for A.J. Where was she?

Still on the phone. “I’ll be there,” Zan said, as if that’d been the plan all along. “At least long enough to deliver a message to her parents.” His announcement seemed to surprise Kasia, but he wouldn’t let her out of his sight until he handed her over to her father.

“Good.” The paramedic continued his instructions and then got up to leave.

Kasia tried a thank-you smile but didn’t quite get there. It squeezed on Zan’s heart.

As soon as campus security got her statement and left, Zan knelt in front of her. “Hey, Auburn. You good?”

She shrugged. A painful expression still marred her face.

“If I promise to stick to yes or no questions, will you stop shrugging and hurting yourself even more?”

A half-smile crept up her cheek. “Yes.”

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yes.” He didn’t quite believe her. Something about the way she tightened her lips right after she answered.

“Wish you didn’t have to?”

“Yes.”

“I was having a lot of fun making s’mores with you. We’ll have to try again sometime.”

He got a real smile, dialed back just a notch with carefulness.

He eased her to her feet and held her steady for a moment.

A.J. walked up and joined them. “You go on and get her out of here. You’re taking her home for the night?”

He nodded.

“Why don’t Jayce and I drive up with you so you can sit in the back with her?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“We’ll meet you at the parking lot.”

Zan kept a hand near Kasia’s back as she took her first few steps. She wobbled every now and then, and her hand shot out to grab his. He held it tightly and hoped she wouldn’t take it back.

She stopped suddenly. “I don’t think I can…can I sit right here and let you drive over and pick me up in a minute?”

He looked around. They were still in the middle of the crowd. “D’you mind if I lift you?”

“What?”

“I’ll carry you.”

She was dazed. Of course, that might have had nothing to do with his offer.

She turned to him and held out an arm, willing to let him do what he’d wanted to from the second he’d spotted her on the ground. He scooped her up and held her small frame close to his chest.

She said nothing, but settled into his arms as if she belonged there.

He maneuvered her gently through the crowd, stepping carefully around the curious onlookers. “How’re you holdin’ up?”

“Huh?”

“You going to make it?”

“He hurt me.” The words cut him, her voice tired and childlike. “Blake actually hurt me.”

His heart stuttered at the hopelessness in her voice. He stopped and tilted his head so he could see her face. She looked shocked—as if she’d been betrayed by her best friend.

“This isn’t the first time he’s hurt you.” She had to see that.

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

As they rounded the corner, Kasia sighed, exhaling utter exhaustion, and nestled into the spot where his shoulder and neck met. He sucked in a breath and inhaled the scent of apples and wood smoke. Keeping his heart out of the equation wouldn’t be easy.

~*~

Kasia drifted in and out of consciousness for a while. When she was lucid, she appreciated the cool, smooth lining of someone’s coat. She was in the back seat of an old car. A.J. was driving. Zan sat beside her. He hadn’t left her side. She breathed in the scent of leather and woods from her makeshift pillow, finding enough comfort to fade back into her own dark shadowlands.

She wished it weren’t so easy to be lulled back to that place. It was desolate, and sometimes, the shadow-lurkers would peer out at her. She could see the same bitter sneer that distorted Blake’s face.

She wanted to leave but didn’t know how. She’d gotten herself lost here anyway. Tatuś had warned her, and she’d let her guard down.

The sky lit up, flickering, and she saw herself standing, clueless, at the edge of the bonfire. Like an old film reel crackling to life, the whole scene began to play out before her. The rock whizzed at her from across the edge of the fire, hitting its target. She saw herself touch the wound and search the crowd, watching her expression shift the instant she recognized Blake.

She should’ve screamed at Blake. Should’ve charged straight at him, pointing and shouting his name loud enough for people downtown to hear. Asked him where he got off throwing a hunk of rock at her head. What was he trying to accomplish anyway?

But she hadn’t. She’d seen the blood on her fingers, seen the malice written all over his face, and she’d given up. Bit it. Dropped to the ground like a worthless rag doll.

And she hated herself for it.

Why? Why couldn’t she fight him when it counted?

Why couldn’t she stem the tide somehow?

She drifted back into the darkness. Made herself get up. Stop him. Don’t let him take any more from you than he already has. She scanned the perimeter. For the first time, she noticed a heap of stones and bricks. Maybe that’s what they were supposed to be used for.

Working in a circle, she began building a wall. Every brick was well-placed, because the wall had to be strong enough to stop all this. She lifted, climbed, spread the mortar, stacked some more. The wall grew higher.

It became a tower. Safe inside, she could see upward, the only direction that mattered to her. She could connect with God, could feel His love. His love mattered.

“Kasiu!” Lenka called. Thump, thump, thump. She heard the voices of her family and knew she had to let them in too. She could trust them, but they were the last ones. The higher the tower, the safer she would be.

“Kasia, your dad’s here.” Zan’s voice tugged at her. “I’ll unlock your door.”

Home. She opened her eyes and saw Tatuś’s face through the back-seat window. She sat up, winced, and pulled the coat onto her lap. Tatuś opened the door and inspected her, his gaze on her face, her neck. He reached for her, and—even though his eyes were on fire—his hands were gentle. He’s so strong.

He cradled her, carried her into the house, left A.J. to introduce Zan to Mama and Lenka. Into the kitchen her dad carried her, the door swinging shut behind them, down the hall to the family room. He set her down gently.

In his chair.

He knelt beside her, his blue eyes searing, and she waited. She knew she deserved every ounce of his rebuke. His jaw clenched and unclenched. His eyes were so full of words. Why weren’t any of them flying at her?

He stood suddenly, and she flinched.

He made a choking noise, and she turned her head back to him, met his gaze. It was infinitely different now. A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, and he tilted his head. His eyes remained fixed on her. Cautiously, he reached out to her and brushed a curl out of her face.

She waited, expected him to tell her how she’d let him down.

But he didn’t. He left.

~*~

Zan stepped into the Bernolaks’ kitchen and was immediately struck by the sense of home. A cinnamon candle glowed in the middle of the table, empty coffee mugs and tissues nearby.

“Where’s Dad?” her sister asked. “Did he take Kasia to her room?”

Mrs. Bernolak offered a warm shrug. “Why don’t we stay in here for a bit and let Kasia get settled. Zan, can I pour you a cup of coffee? A.J.?”

They each fixed a hot drink the way they liked it, and Mrs. Bernolak directed them to the table. “I think I need to hear what happened tonight again—slowly this time.”

Just as they began, Pastor Bernolak joined them, quiet but intense. “Marta, Kasia needs you in the den. Right away.”

She hurried out of the room.

Zan stood, a knot in his throat. Was something wrong?

Mr. B. turned and inspected him again. “I didn’t thank you properly…I don’t remember your name.”

“Zan.” He grasped Kasia’s dad’s hand. “Alexander Maddox.”

“I appreciate you seeing Kasia home safely. Please. Sit.” His accent stood out a little more than before.

Mr. B. poured himself a cup of black coffee. He drank it straight. “Talk to me.”

A.J. gestured to Zan.

He spoke. “The paramedic said the neck injury wasn’t major in and of itself. The fall is what jarred her head, but she was in the grass. They don’t think it’s a concussion. Still, you’re supposed to wake her every half-hour, keep an eye on her. She got a little weak on the way to the car.”

“I’m fine,” Kasia rasped, standing in the doorway.

Mr. B. shot out of his chair and slid it over, right beside her. “Sit down.”

“Let me make you some tea.” Her mom shuffled in behind her. Mrs. Bernolak walked that fine line Li’l Mama knew so well—between keeping up appearances and letting the worry win.

Kasia tapped the counter. “No. I don’t want anything.”

“Then you need to go rest,” Pastor Bernolak said.

She nodded, gingerly. “Thanks, Zan. For everything. G’night, A.J.”

He nodded, missing the vivacity that belonged in her eyes. Her little sister—he remembered her from the store—studied him, clearly wary. Zan reached down to pet the frumpy brown dog that sat by his feet, also watching him.

Everyone wanted to know if he was trustworthy.