Page 28 of Redeem

“So what things were you thinking about me?” she said.

“I have a question.”

“You’re answering a question with a question. That has to violate some kind of universal rule,” she said.

She lifted one corner of her mouth in a smile, and I felt myself doing the same. It was so rare to see that from her, and even though I was evading her question, I was happy nonetheless.

The subject I intended to bring up was less so.

“Are you always so reckless?” I asked.

She smiled even brighter, much to my surprise.

“Are you really asking me that right now?” she said.

“Yes,” I said.

And with good reason as far as I was concerned.

“Why?”

“You need help, but what you did, picking me up like that… It wasn’t safe. It worked out, but it might not have,” I said.

She shook her head. “Of course it might not have.”

I frowned, shocked at her nonchalance.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” I sputtered.

“Yeah. What else is there to say? I took the risk. There’s nothing more to it,” she said.

She was so matter-of-fact that I was taken aback.

“But that’s not safe. Someone could have hurt you,” I said.

“Someone still could,” she replied pointedly.

Instantly, my mind recoiled at the thought and I looked at her, willing her to look at me. She glanced at me quickly and then looked back at the road, but I knew she had caught my thunderous expression.

“Not you, of course. But it’s a risk. So is life,” she said.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head, my mind processing how lucky we had both been. What if someone else had come here, harmed her?

“Besides, it’s not that big of a deal,” she said.

“What are you talking about, Dana?” I said.

“If someone had hurt me, they probably would’ve been doing me a favor,” she said.

I said nothing, just looked at her, shocked.

The depth of the pain she felt was so much deeper than I had anticipated, so much worse.

And it was all my fault.

I was a cause of this woman’s suffering. I had pushed her to this point, contributed to whatever it was that made her think her life wasn’t worth living.

The awareness of what I’d done, the regret, hit me harder than any opponent ever had. I was sick with the weight of that regret, again sick with the feelings of guilt, disgust that hit me.