SHE COULD TASTE THE storm in the air even before it begun. It reminded her of heartbreak, in the way only those who had lived a life filled with ache would understand. Dante understood. She knew that from the moment she had seen his anger, so unfiltered she could feel the grief even before speaking to him. The weight of a coffin he never had been able to bury was heavy on his shoulders, just like the weight of the world was on hers. Now he was here, in the middle of either her home or her prison.
"What are you doing here?" she frowned, worry curling around her heart like thorns.
"We'll talk about it later," he said, words coming out in a rush," come on, Helene. We need to be fast, before he notices."
He reached out his hand to her and she froze in place, frightened by the consequences of taking it. What kind of world would she find if she went back outside? How cruel would they be to her now? She didn't know whether she could take it. Nathan would never forgive her either. He'd kill Dante, a thought which made it hard for her to swallow. Out of all the people she had known, Dante had been her only friend. When she had worked in the prison with him she had wished for him to be gentler, to be allowed to heal. Yet here he was, pulled in her gigantic mess.
He had been the only one to come looking for her. Still, she had never asked him for his help. Why was she such a hypocrite? When had her patients ever asked for her help? When had Nathan? Why in God's name was she still the one to blame even when she hadn't asked Dante to come? His life was in danger now and it was her fault. Oh, she'd never be able to make a decision without tears welling up in her eyes, wouldn't she?
Her head was so full with thoughts it was going to burst.
Then, lightning slashed through the air. Dante's urgency increased as the thunder started to rumble, droplets of rain tangling in his eyelashes. He looked different, Helene thought. Tired, like the fatigue had seeped in him until he couldn't breathe. There was no rage burning in him anymore. Instead, he just looked sad.
"Please, Helene," he breathed," I came to get you out of here. Don't let him catch us."
She watched him curiously, reaching for him, but stopping herself in time.
"You aren't real," she realized then, shaking her head as laughter started tumbling down her lips hysterically," of course you aren't! How stupid am I to think someone would want to rescue me. I must've gotten lost in a dream."
When she blinked his vision flickered, her sight as unreliable as her heart. How could she even have believed he was real? This all wasn't logical to begin with. If this was truly Dante, how had he found her? Nathan wouldn't have left a trace and everyone in that prison was most likely dead. Even if he had managed to track her down, what had lead him deep in this rose garden?
"What are you talking about?" Dante frowned," Helene, what has he done to you?"
"You know what I'm talking about," she said," after all, you're a figment of my imagination. Cruel, really, the way it spins visions for me."
Dante shook his head, clearly distressed by her, but when he took a step towards her she quickly took one back. Though she knew he was made out of nothing but air, she didn't know if she could take knowing how crazy she had become. Whether she reached out to him and felt him or not, either way, the outcome was the same. This wasn't the first time her mind was playing tricks on her. No wonder her senses were betraying her as well.
When he noticed her taking the step back, he froze, not attempting to touch her again. Instead, he slowly sunk down on his knees in front of her, holding up his hands as he looked up at her. He seemed so young now, his frown gone and his eyes gentle. The rain had made his hair a mess, a scratch across his cheek which she only noticed then. It was like he had gone running through something, his shoes muddy and blouse smeared with dirt. He paid no mind to the way his pants were ruined now as well as he tried to make himself smaller in an obvious attempt to make her feel safe. Even as a hallucination he was kind.
"It's me, Helene," he said," I'm not a figment of your imagination. I'm real, I'm here. It took me too long to find you and I apologize for that, I do. I am so, so sorry that I failed you, but I'm here now. If you want to hate me, you can, but don't let yourself self-destruct here. Please."
She blinked, unsure of herself for a moment. The way he spoke to her was too considerate for it to be anything fabricated by her thoughts. Was it really him? Her lips parted, ready to call out to him, before letting the words die on her tongue when she saw her mother appear beside him. With a wide smile the woman mirrored Dante's position, mockingly repeating his words.
"Please," she said," is that all it takes to convince you? You really have no backbone, Helene."
The rain kept pouring, blurring her vision more, but through it all, she felt feverishly hot. If she kept standing here she'd burn into flames, even with how cold her clothes were sticking to her and the way her body was shivering. She shouldn't walk towards him. This was all a wishful dream, one she couldn't indulge in. Nathan had promised her that he would show him to her next week, so she couldn't break his trust like this. She didn't want to either. Who was she without the man she loved?
Who was she if there was no humanity left?
"How did you find me, Dante?" she asked.
"He's not as clever as he thinks he is, Helene," Dante said," at least, not now. Until he got arrested, he was meticulous, a calculating monster through and through, but something's changed. He's being reckless in his newfound happiness and that's making him sloppy. Not enough for anyone else to find him, but enough for me to do so. I've spent a long time tracking his moves to find you."
"You're saying I bring out his faults?" she said, voice shaking.
"No, of course not," Dante said resolutely," Helene, this man is a notorious serial killer, you can't bring out anything bad the world hasn't already seen. Don't place any blame on yourself. I'm simply glad I could find you at all."
"Oh, are you?"
Dante froze at once as he felt the gun against the back of his head, Nathan behind him. When he looked up towards her, he pushed his hair out of his eyes with his other hand, smiling once he caught her gaze. She wasn't even surprised to see him, but her blood ran cold at the sight of the gun. Of course he had realized someone had broken in, because he was exactly as clever as he thought he was. One branch out of place in the garden and he would have known.
If she closed her eyes, would she wake up in bed or to the sound of a gunshot?
"Why didn't you call for me, Helene?" Nathan said, gaze fixated on her.
"Because this isn't real, Nathan," she replied," none of it is. Not you, not that gun and not the man sitting on the floor. How else is Dante here after I just asked about him?"
"You asked about me?" Dante said, his surprise so sincere that she was taken aback for a moment by it.
Nathan grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back roughly as he pressed the gun against his forehead. Despite his smile, he was clearly furious, leaning over him as he spoke.
"Shut up," he said," I do not remember giving you permission to speak to her."
"I don't remember asking you for it," Dante spat back.
"You won't be able to when I cut off your tongue," Nathan replied warmly.
Helene stared at them, the knowledge slowly beginning to seep in that this was possibly more than a dream and Dante's life was truly on the line. If he had found her a week or two later, she could've already seen him, already let him know she was okay. Of course the world wasn't kind enough to her to let her plan run it's course. Instead, here she stood, knowing full well that one person was going to lose their life tonight and wishing that it was her.
"Nathan," she said, voice light and expression warm," I've seen him now, so we can do something else next week. You can choose anything you want, I'll be glad just to spend time with you."
"As will I with you," Nathan smiled," after I kill him, of course."
"What do you mean?" she said, voice growing in urgency," you promised me, my love. You said you wouldn't kill him."
"That was before he traveled all this way to take you from me," Nathan said, finger hovering above the trigger," how can I let him live now? Especially after all he's done?"
"All he's done?" Helene asked.
Nathan glanced up at her, Dante's face flushed as he watched him, refusing to close his eyes even in the face of death.
"All the information I had about you," he said," don't you know who provided it?"
"Parker!" Dante shouted.
"It was Dante," Nathan said," Dante was the mole."