Page 27 of Zenith
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Idon’t knowhow long I swam in the ocean of darkness.
When I finally returned to the land of the living, it was unrecognizable. The last vision I had was of the studio floor as I attempted to crawl away from Rivers. I’d struck my head, and my consciousness had faded. I was sure I’d died at that moment or was close to it, but it seemed I was still breathing.
I lay across the back seat of a car, my head in the lap of a man I hoped was Edward. The coat draped over my shoulders carried his scent—a woodsy musk—and the hand lying upon my back was gentle. In front, I could see the profile of a second man, who I recognized as Edward’s driver, his hands firmly on the wheel. Swallowing, my throat felt like sandpaper, not faring well after its crushing. My flesh was tender, and my head throbbed.
“Jane,” a familiar voice murmured, sensing my wakefulness. “Would you like some water?”
“Edward…” I moaned, realizing he had not been an apparition at all but flesh and bone.
“Shh,” he whispered. “Have some water. It will soothe your throat.”
He retrieved a bottle from the cup holder set in the door before easing my head up and placing a straw against my lips. I sipped slowly, the cool liquid heavenly against my burning throat, and as he set the bottle down into the cup holder, I allowed my weary head to fall back onto his muscular thigh.
I felt comfortable here, safe even, despite the fact he was the man I’d fled from in such a dramatic fashion. What a curious situation.
I sighed, my eyelids drooping as the movement of the car lulled my body. The flash of orange lights told me it was still night, and our smooth trajectory signified we were on the motorway.We were on the motorway.
I raised my head, Edward’s jacket falling from my shoulders and looked about frantically for my bag.
Edward held me tightly and whispered into my ear, “I have collected all your belongings. Your bag and all I could find in the apartment have been stowed in the boot. Your money, your documents, your clothing. All of it. Nothing remains abandoned, Jane.” I sank back into his lap, my head resting on his thigh. “Rivers will not be a problem,” he continued. “He is being looked after by a friend.”
“You would murder him?” I rasped, the thought abhorring me, yet I did not move from his embrace.
“That is your first thought?” he asked incredulously. “Do you think that little of me?”
“Well,” I said, closing my eyes so I did not have to see him stare down at me with his otherworldly eyes. “Have you?”
“No, Jane. You think me capable of it now after all I have told you?” He snorted, the movement flowing through his body. “I could not take his life—wretched as it is—with my own hands, and especially not through the fault of someone else. He was manipulated. I am intelligent enough to see it.”
“Blanche,” I whispered, thinking of the speech she’d delivered to me that very night.
“Yes, I suspected as much when I saw her leave the gallery this evening.”
He was at the opening? Why had I not seen him?
“I can sense your mind swirling, Jane,” he continued. “Answers will come in time. For now, you must rest. We still have several hours to travel, and it has been a long and turbulent evening. You must hurt gravely.”
“Where…”
“Thornfield,” was his reply.
“Bertha?” I asked, the mere mention of her name causing my chest to ache.
“She has been locked away,” he replied. “She no longer has access to me or the rest of the house. She is closely guarded and will not escape again. She has not since the day…” He trailed off, not wanting to speak of the event which had caused my flight.
He was trying to reassure me, but I could not rest easy. Bertha Mason was still in residence at Thornfield, and it was precisely where he was taking me. I felt as if I’d been caught by the tyrant and returned to his nest of torture. My entire world was twisted like a hall of mirrors in a carnival funhouse.
“She’ll be trapped like a weasel if she attempts to scurry out of her hole,” Edward said with a snarl. “I won’t allow any harm to come to you, Jane. She will have my life before she can think of taking yours.”
Thornfield was the last place I wanted to be, but like a horror story, it seemed the old manor wasn’t done with me yet. I closed my eyes, as bereft as ever. Was I damned to a life of misery? Was this my lot? I could not bear to think I was not allowed the tiniest shred of happiness.
“I have been in agony,” Edward murmured, stroking my hair. “I’ve lost myself trying to find you.”
I moaned and covered my face with my hands, too tired, too sore, and too sick to move away from him. I longed for his embrace, yet I could not allow myself to submit. I was torn between right and wrong, not knowing which was which.
“This is my vow to you, my dear Jane Eyre,” he murmured, his hand gentle as he caressed my back. “I will spend the rest of my life devoted wholly to your happiness. I have wronged you, and I will do whatever it takes to redeem myself.” The leather seat creaked as he leaned forward and placed his lips against my temple, kissing me softly. “I swear it on my soul.”
