Page 104 of Consumed By Fire

He implicated himself. He made me look like a shining example. He told me he loved me. I make a choking noise, covering my mouth with my hand.

Hearing him say it brought me untold joy and untold pain, just like I knew it would. I didn’t want him to say it, but I don’t want him to take it back even more. They’re words I will treasure for the rest of my life.

I lie down on the bed, pulling myself into a ball. I wish I could rewind the clock. I would go with him in an instant. I would take my chances. I lie there for a time, staring at the wall, wondering where Octane is and when I will be called back to attend the beheading. I can’t believe that they are forcing me to watch Octane being put to death. On the one hand, I want to be there for him. To give him some measure of comfort. I would more than likely be the only friendly face. Having said that, it’s a vision I would never be able to erase. It isn’t the last memory I want to have of the man I love.

“Female,” a guard calls to me.

My back stiffens, and my heart picks up the pace.

I’m not ready. No!

Is this it?

Is this the end for Octane?

“Her name is Trinity,” a familiar, deep voice says.

I gasp, sitting up, and there he is. Standing right there at the entrance to my cell.

“Octane?” I sound like I am in shock because I am. I stand, my mouth gaping. “It’s you,” I say as I walk toward the bars. “It’s you,” I repeat as I grab the bars in both my hands. “Am I dreaming?” I know it’s a stupid question, but I can’t believe my eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought…I…I thought.” I burst into tears. “Crap!” I wipe my face. “It’s the hormones. Are they letting us say goodbye?” I choke out.

“Can you open up?” Octane asks the guard, who does as he asks. I note that he isn’t wearing any shackles.

Why not?

What is going on?

The door to the cell clicks open, and Octane walks in.

Then he’s there, larger than life. He still has some bruises. The gash on his forehead has closed over, but is on the mend. He looks good. No, he looks amazing.

I fall into his arms. They feel heavenly around me. Partly because it’s him and partly because I never expected to ever have this again. To feel this.

I hold him tight, closing my eyes and breathing him in.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his hand moving up and down my back.

It’s always his first concern. Me over him. I’ve never had that before. Not ever. It feels good. It also makes me feel sad. This can’t be over. Someone somewhere is going to pull the rug out from under us and any minute.

I sniff.

I can’t let my guard fully down.

“No tears, Little Red. You can stop crying now,” he reassures me.

“I’m trying. Believe you me, I’m trying,” I tell him. “To answer your question, I’m doing okay.” I cry harder, my face crumpling.

“Could have fooled me.” I can hear that he is smiling. He uses his thumbs to dry my tears and pulls me in for another hard but quick embrace. It helps relax me a little.

“Let’s sit,” Octane says.

We do…on that thin mattress.

“What happened with the king?” I ask. “What did he have to say? I can’t believe that happened. A talk. What does that even mean?” I shake my head, my lip wobbling.

“Yes, a chat. And…” Octane widens his eyes, “he had a lot to say. He’s a good male.”

“He is?” I ask. “I mean, yes,” I nod, “he is a good male. Arctic wants peace.”

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