East of Redemption (Love on the Edge #2) Page 16

  “Okay.”

  I tugged on her end of the rope, making sure it was harnessed properly through the steel clips, and flicked on the light above her GoPro, switching mine on as well. I tossed my torch on the rock floor beside me, planting my feet and bracing my knees as Rain stepped out on the ledge.

  She moved much quicker than I would’ve guessed, but I don’t know why it surprised me—the woman was fearless. The climb was still incredibly difficult, even if it was a shorter distance than the length of ledge Harrison and I had navigated. Another stab of guilt seared my gut and twisted as Rain hefted herself up the small incline and into the chamber safely. The relief at her safe crossing was nothing against the weight of heavier guilt, knowing that one fucking directional choice had altered the course of our lives and ended Harrison’s.

  Rain waved at me as she positioned herself on her knees, the chamber too small for her to stand up fully. She widened the gap between her legs and braced herself against the wall with her hands firmly clutching the rope.

  I reached down and unfastened the end that was tied around my waist. I knew she’d kill me once I got across, but there was no way in hell I would let her be my anchor. Not here. One slip from me and I could drag her to her death. I let the rope drop and stepped onto the ledge.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she yelled across the distance, but I ignored her angered question.

  I flattened myself against the moist wall, the cold seeping into my palms as I pressed for support. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, focusing me on the task at hand and momentarily removing all other thoughts from my brain.

  My muscles seared, but I welcomed the ache, feeding off the pain. The water continued its chant: one wrong step you die. I mentally told it to go fuck itself.

  I reached the chamber opening in such a short time I was almost pissed. It had been too easy, and just one more reminder that if we had merely backtracked and tried the different route, Harrison would still be alive.

  I pulled myself upward and crouched on the solid floor of the chamber, the rock ceiling lower than I remembered. Rain instantly smacked my shoulders, hitting me with a ferocity I had totally expected.

  “You asshole!” she screamed, her voice echoing off the cave walls. “How could you untie yourself? You could have fallen, and I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it!” She swung a right hook at my jaw, but I ducked instinctively.

  The unconnected hit threw off her crouched balance, and the sound of her boots slipping backward against the slick rock, toward the chamber’s ledge, followed by her gasp, had my heart in my fucking throat. I reached out, clutching her wrist with a firm grip despite her good hold on the rock. I yanked her arm, dragging her farther inside the safety of the solid chamber quicker than she could blink.

  She hissed from the pain my hold likely caused her. “What the hell? I had it.” She rubbed her wrist once I released it.

  “You have to be more careful!” I snapped. “Throwing punches? Are you kidding me, Rain? What did I say? Watch. Your. Footing!” My voice boomed off the rock walls, echoing until it was swallowed by the depth of the cave.

  “You provoked me! Tossing the rope like that! And I barely slipped.” She squinted at me and took a deep breath after reading something on my face. I had no idea what she saw, but her expression softened. “Is this where—?”

  “No.” I cut her off.

  She arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t find the artifacts here?”

  “Oh . . . yes,” I said, relieved. I thought she’d been asking if this was the spot Harrison had fallen. “This is the chamber where we uncovered the tablet.” I glanced around, the light from the cameras on our heads filling the space. It hadn’t changed. Not a rock or pile of powder out of place. My chest tightened as if the walls moved in on us, and I slowly shifted my position, sharpening my gaze past where we’d just entered from.

  A wide, open drop was all that took up the space between this side of the cave and the next, but in my mind I still saw the rock bridge that had carried both Harrison and me to this chamber but refused to return us both. I wondered if chunks of the structure remained, jutted out enough to prove it had once been there. On this end, there was only a jagged break. A sharp, zigzagged hole where the bridge had once connected on this end.

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the middle of the dark void that had swallowed Harrison, like if I looked hard enough, I’d see a light from a torch . . . Harrison at the bottom, waiting for us.

  A hand clutched my shoulder, and I jumped, the motion causing me to smack my head in the same place I’d hit it in the bunker. “Fuck!” I grabbed the back of my head, as Rain flinched from my tone.

  “Sorry, I just—”

  “What?”

  Rain pointed behind me, aiming her flashlight outside the chamber and to the right. “Thought you might be interested in that bigger piece of ledge there. I’m not an archeologist, but I bet it leads to something important. If these chambers were manmade, which this one certainly appears to have been carved by hand, then they probably sectioned them close together.”

  “Harrison would’ve seen it,” I said, but took the light out of her hands and clung to the wall as I slid half my body out of the chamber to get a closer look. “I’ll be damned.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did we not see this before?”

  “Maybe because you two were too busy acting like giddy schoolboys over finding the tablet?”

  We had been in full celebration mode, and we’d both fully expected to return to the spot the next day, with more equipment and better funding. Fuck.

  “Let’s check it out,” Rain said, moving toward me.

  “Slow down.” I raised my hand to stop her advance. “We have to think. Plan. We can’t go off half-cocked.”

  She scrunched her eyebrows. “That ledge is twice as big as the one you just made me cross!”

  “Give me a second to think!”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t.” Her tone was sharp and cut into me.

  “Excuse me?”

  She grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back into the chamber. She gripped both sides of my face, her eyes piercing mine, hunting them for something. “Are you with me?”

  I clenched my eyes shut, not allowing her to read me any more as she asked me what had quickly become our signature question on this expedition. The memories of our past had bombarded each of us as our lives had come together again, and it had been a fun game asking aloud where our minds were. But not now. Not with this memory.

  “No. You’re with him.” She stroked my face. “Compass, let me in. Talk to me. Take me with you.”

  I shook my head, refusing to open my eyes. Acid rolled in my gut, filling the back of my jaw with spit.

  “Hey.” She held my face tighter, until I reluctantly opened my eyes. “I’m here with you. I’m. Here.”

  The desperate plea in her voice, the look in her eyes, this place . . . it was too much to take. The pieces of the soul Rain had given back to me over the course of this expedition shattered, crumbling worse than the cave we were in. I looked back at the dark hole beyond the chamber, and I became the boy I’d been. Helpless. Useless.

  I returned my focus to Rain, gripping the back of her neck with my hand. “You are now, but the moment I tell you the truth. You’ll leave.”

  I sighed and pressed my lips to hers in what I knew would be the last kiss I’d ever get to share with her, because she’d never be able to look past the darkness I was about to unveil.

  Rain

  EASTON’S KISS TASTED desperate, and it had bite to it. A finality that jerked my heart to attention, scrambling to rebuild the walls that had come down the past few days. He pulled away from me and pointed out of the chamber and to the center of the dark drop-off.

  “It happened there.”

  I swallowed hard. “This is where my father fell? From this chamber? Did he trip?” The questions spilled from my lips too quickly, and I feared they’d push East
on off the subject he’d been so adamant about avoiding. I couldn’t help it, though. The details had never been clear, and the explanation of Dad simply falling to his death never set right with me.

  Easton shook his head, and my stomach sank. “There used to be a bridge-like structure that connected this wall with that one.” He pointed between the two. “It wasn’t more than three feet wide.”

  I nodded, my mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

  “Harrison and I, we’d chosen the opposite way from the way you and I came today.” The hand that still pointed to the canyon-sized drop between the cave walls shook, and he clenched it into a fist as he pulled his arm to his side. “I tried to talk him into backtracking. Entering from the second path the next day, but in reality, I didn’t try hard enough.”

  I reached out and took his shaking hand in mine, squeezing it for him to continue, even though suddenly I regretted ever asking him for the truth. Deep down I didn’t really want to know, that’s why I never pushed him as hard as I could’ve. It would make what happened to Dad, and what had happened between us too real, too fresh, like I was eighteen all over again. A cold dread settled in my gut, brought about by the agonized lines shaping his face.

  “We made it across just fine. Found the tablet and the scroll.” He cleared his throat. “He switched packs with me before crossing back. Made me promise to wait until he’d made it across safely, and then I could follow.” Tears glistened in his eyes, and the sight stunned me. I’d never seen Easton cry before. He’d always been too tough for that.

  “The rock started to crumble beneath him. And I made it to him just in time . . . to do nothing. I caught his hand, and I tried. I fucking tried to pull him back up, but I wasn’t strong enough. Harrison tried to help. He reached for the rock in an attempt to pull while I did, but there wasn’t enough time. The thing was disintegrating, chunks of rock falling all around us. I wasn’t going to leave him. I would’ve kept trying until I’d died with him.”

  The tears slowly rolled down his cheeks, and trails of my own mirrored his. “He didn’t give me a choice. He told me he loved you, and to make him proud, right before he ordered me to let go. He didn’t want us both to die. Said you needed me.” He clenched his eyes shut. “And I did.” His voice cracked. “He died because I wasn’t strong enough to save him. Because I hadn’t tried hard enough to convince him to come back the next day. Because I didn’t demand that I cross first.” He opened his eyes and they were finally completely open. I could read the torture in them as easily as a book. “I’m the reason he’s dead. He didn’t fall. I let him go.”

  I brought my hands to my chest, as if I could stop my heart from shattering. Shattering for the boy who blamed himself, for the daughter I’d been, for the lies and distance Easton had put between us because of it. The visual he painted played a horrible, twisted movie in my mind, continuing beyond the tragic end to my father and all the way through Easton’s life. It had fueled every decision he’d made since—the show, forcing himself into life-and-death situations without a second thought, taking his body to the edge with each excavation. It was his way of trying to pay for what had happened. It wasn’t his weight to carry, but he’d done it anyway, and he’d left me . . .

  I swiped at the tears streaming down my cheeks and sucked in a deep breath. I cupped his face. “What happened wasn’t your fault, Easton. You didn’t deserve to carry that around, alone, for as long as you have. I would never have blamed you. Dad raised me with a full understanding of the extreme risks of his profession. It wasn’t your fault.”

  The pain in my heart wasn’t from finally knowing the details over Dad’s death, though it did sting, and it didn’t change how much I missed him.

  The raw, burning, shredding pain that currently ripped through my chest? That belonged to Easton. I withdrew my hands from him and took the only space allowed in the tiny chamber, putting it between us. New tears formed in my eyes, and I willed them away.

  “You leaving me?” I said. “Without an explanation, ending our life together in a blink? That was in your hands. And lying to me about something so vital . . . to both of us?” I rubbed my palms against my face. “God, Easton. I would’ve been there for you. I would never have lied to you.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath and wiped away the evidence of his pain. “I know that now. Then? I thought you’d look at me and only see the cause of your father’s death. Because I did. I tried to come to you, to uphold what your father had wanted and take care of you. I was there, at his funeral, but I took one look at you, and I could only see him. What I’d done. What I didn’t do. I was a coward. And I was sure you’d see me the same way—as the man who killed your father. And even if you said you didn’t, how would I know you weren’t thinking it, when I sure as hell was?”

  “Because you know me. You know my soul, Easton. Because it’s been yours since the moment my father brought you home.” I sighed. “I can’t imagine what you went through, what you’re still going through. I’m beyond sorry that happened to you and my dad, but how am I supposed to get past the lies?”

  “You’re not. I never expected you to. And after spending these past few days with you . . . you gave me more hope than I deserved, Rain. I can’t ask for more. I don’t deserve it.”

  Too many emotions ripped through my core, my mind overwhelmed with the dark truth, twisting the love I held for him and burning it. My heart raced, like it made a last-ditch effort to run away from the moment, dash to the past where the future I’d envisioned with Easton had been real, tangible.

  “When you look at me now,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Do you still only see his death?” That had to be the worst part of this entire situation—I’d grieved the loss of my father for years. It never got easier, but I had accepted it, and I could almost see reasoning behind Easton’s selfish choice to carry the load all on his own—but that? Knowing I was an active culprit in the daily torture that was his life? How could I possibly beg him to stay in my life, like I’d wanted to, knowing I caused him that much pain?

  “No. I thought it would be. I told myself that’s the reason I stayed away all these years, but the truth is, I couldn’t face how you’d look at me. Like I said, I’m a coward. I told you that.”

  I shook my head. “What do you see?”

  “Hope.”

  “For?”

  “Love. The life I’d wanted. The life I’d dreamed about. Being with you is like finding the universe’s treasure . . . I don’t need anything else.”

  “Another lie.”

  “No—”

  “You need this one. This find.” I glanced around the chamber, picturing my dad pouring over every inch of dust in the hopes to find more treasure. “We both do. For him.”

  “You’re right.”

  I let my mind fill with the image of my father, what his face would look like if we unearthed even a small percentage of King Solomon’s treasure and authenticated it. He’d be so proud. I wanted to do this for him. To give him the score he’d never hit. I wanted to find the treasure that had evaded him his whole life, until in its search it had claimed him.

  “Let’s move,” I said, keeping my father at the forefront of my mind and my heart. I ignored the twisting pain in my chest and the uncertainty of what would happen once we left this cave. I set myself to task, prepared to go to extreme lengths to be part of finding the treasure of my father’s dreams.

  Easton sucked in his tears with a deep breath.

  “Okay.” He glanced inside the chamber, not focusing at all.

  I shifted in front of him. “Are you with me?”

  He blinked hard and fast. “Yes.”

  “Good. I need you focused. I can’t do this alone. You’re the expert. Just like my father. He would’ve been so proud of what you’ve become, Easton. Regardless of . . . everything, you have to at least know that.”

  He opened his mouth but closed it quickly, turning toward the larger ledge on the outside of the chamber. He glanced over hi
s shoulder. “Same deal. Mirror my movements.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I snapped earlier . . . but I can’t lose you, Rain. Not like . . .”

  “Understood. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He cut his eyes to the darkness before returning them to me. “And after?”

  I didn’t have an answer for him. I wanted to say nothing had changed, but in a matter of moments everything had. “Let’s get through this first.”

  Easton

  SHE DIDN’T BLAME me. I don’t know how . . . but she didn’t. The weight of Harrison’s death had sat on my chest for years, and the act of confession had lifted some of it, despite not knowing where I stood with her. She didn’t hold me responsible—she should—but I felt like I could try to earn my way back into her heart if all she was angry about was the lies. And for leaving. It was something in my power to do, because nothing could make up for the loss of her father.

  Focusing on the task at hand kept me in the present as much as possible. The battle of the past, and the hope for the future, was more than I could take right now, so I simply put one foot in front of the other and tried not to slip.

  The wall felt more slick than it had moments ago, but it could’ve been that I was sweating from the stagnant heat that filled the cave. Drops of perspiration had formed under my hat, and I desperately itched to wipe it clean, but that movement wasn’t possible in the position I was in—flattened against the wall and sidestepping to what we hoped would be another chamber.

  Every now and then I heard Rain sniffle behind me. It stung each time she did it. Her tears earlier had been a direct result of years’ worth of lies and confusion. All because of me. My choices. She’d been right. I may not have seen another way back then, but I’d made the choice to end what could’ve been a brilliant future for us without thinking twice on the fact that she had deserved a say.

  I exhaled and inhaled, the thin air reaching to the bottom of my lungs with ease. Rain wasn’t as used to the change in atmosphere that came with an excursion this deep, and I wished I could help her get a handle on it, remembering how suffocating the lack of a full breath could make me feel.