Sovereign Ground (Breaking Bonds) Read Free

She lets me shield her.
    The truck driver lies on the floor still in his
overturned chair. A dark stain bleeds through his flannel shirt. On the other
side of him, Buzz stares at me with eyes that seem to scream fear. Why doesn’t
he speak?
    A man I don’t know pulls the door from my grip.
With colossal arms, he reaches for Brita.
    She dodges and he barges into the room. All I can
see are his meaty hands, woven around Brita’s neck. The world moves so slow, I
focus on his dirty nails.
    Brita moans, her eyes plead with me until I lurch
from spectator mode.
    I scratch his face and claw at his hands. One of
his hands releases Brita, but then his knuckles rise. I want to block, but can
only watch them float down. The pain starts at my cheek, then it’s everywhere.
It feels like I’m falling from the sky as I watch Brita look down at me,
screaming. Sparkles start to blur the scene. The last thing I see is that he
uses the giant dirty hand that hit me to pull curly, black hair out of his cold
eyes.
     
     
     
    The sun softens the chilled air and its warmth
nuzzles the side of my face—at least the side that doesn’t sting. A glowing man
looks down at me. Pyrite-golden eyebrows edge a large sloping forehead of
burnished skin. Calm, brown eyes shielded by sandy lashes search my face. He is
like the sunshine. His hands are under me, but they slip away as a smooth, hard
surface meets from beneath. A gurney.
    It’s February again. Where’s Brita?
    Two EMTs, one man and one woman caw orders and
dictate their actions. I search the crowd for the golden man but only recognize
Brody. He approaches to tower over me. Smoke and sirens litter the air. The
Wild Lily burns. Where is the man who rescued me?
    “Hey, Baby.” He must be proud of his teeth, the
only reason for his smile. My face hurts so much I can’t do anything but
whimper and shake my head.
    “Are you the one who pulled her from the
building?” the female EMT says.
    “Yes.” Brody touches my temple like my father used
to.
    They ignore me as I shake my head no.
    “What happened?”
    “A chair hit her.” Brody says.
    I cry, “No.” Brody was not there. Brita? I thought
I screamed the no, but maybe I’m not making any sound.
    “Poor Baby. I won’t leave you.”
    Straps hold me down. The gurney rocks up and dips.
The sky disappears slowly as the ambulance ceiling slides into view. Brody
climbs in. Where is the sunshine man?
     
     
     
    The earth greets the pounding of my feet. I raise
my arms, and each step emphasizes the thrum of blood coursing through my heart.
Fabric sways against my legs.
    The fabric is coarse hospital sheets, and the
pulse in my feet is throbbing pain. I dreamed again.
    “There she is.” Brody’s voice ensures that I dream
no longer.
    Why is he here? I have never really talked to
Brody. He always has business with Buzz. He holds my fingers with a soft touch,
smooth hands.
    “I was so worried.”
    I try to ease my tongue into the desert between my
teeth and lips. Brody reads my mind. He holds a pastel cup with a matching lid
and straw to my mouth. An ache chases the icy water.
    “I bet it hurts.” He nods at my wincing, but I
don’t care about that.
    “Brita?”
    He shakes his head and his eyes comfort and mourn
at the same time. “He killed her.” Brody stands and twists the plastic stick on
the window blinds. It’s evening, so the light is mild. When he turns back to me,
his lips press so that they disappear inside his mouth. He unrolls them
thoughtfully. “The police have a few leads. The guy robbed me, torched the bar.
Hurt my girls.” Brody steps back to my bed.
    “And the other guy?”
    “You mean the one who got stabbed?
    I nod.
    “I think they knew each other.”
    The killer seemed to know Brita, too.
    “It was probably drugs or something. I never saw
him before,” Brody continues.
    “But you saw him?” I say.
    “Me? No, not really.”
    Did he see him or not? Brody takes my hand again.
It seems intimate—not the