Jack tasted blood. The carpet was thick; it cushioned his swollen cheek. At first, he didn't know where he was. His head ached; breathing hurt, and his eyes were heavy. But he heard Rose's voice. And he remembered everything. She was crying. He opened his eyes and saw her feet. Where had her shoes gone? He tried to move, but lifting his head was impossible. He saw Cal's feet approach hers. She stepped back, not crying now, just talking. What was she saying? He heard his own name, but her words blurred together. He tried again to move, and again, he couldn't. He heard her fear, but there was nothing he could do.
…..
"Come on, Jack," Rose whispered. She glanced through the open door. There was still no sign of them. She shook Jack. "Wake up. Jack please, wake up." Desperation thickened her voice. "Jack." His eyes fluttered, but he didn't stir. She pulled him up with a strength she didn't know she had and held him beneath the arms. He groaned in pain. His body was limp and heavy. She half-carried, half-dragged him into the hallway, hoping it would be empty but also, not caring if it was.
Fortunately, it was.
She stumbled down the stairs, nearly tipping over from Jack's weight. She moved as quickly as she could. So far, no-one was following them, but she kept looking over her shoulder just in case. Her breathing was fast and heavy; her entire body shook. Finally, she collapsed onto the cargo hold floor.
She wrapped a blanket around Jack and held him tightly. He was still breathing, but his cheeks were pale. She wiped blood from his face. His eye was a dark purple, almost black. His nose was swollen and still bleeding. His lip was split. His hand was swollen and bleeding from hitting Cal. She couldn't see it, but she felt the large knot on the back of his head. She shuddered as she saw Lovejoy hit him again. He'd used the fireplace poker. Jack had crumpled like a piece of paper. She wondered how her screams had gone unheard.
Rose kissed his forehead. "Everything's going to be alright," she whispered. "I promise, Jack. We got away. I got us out of there. But you have to wake up now, okay? Jack, please wake up." Tears filled her eyes. Her own injuries had been forgotten. She would feel the pain later, when she could spare the energy. Now, keeping Jack alive was all that mattered.
….
The sun was warm but not too bright. The sky was the perfect blue. There were clouds, but that was alright. Jack liked clouds. Even now, he liked staring up at them and trying to find shapes. He moved his bare feet across the sand, digging his toes into it. The waves lapped gently as the show. He reached over and took Rose's hand. "Happy?" he said.
She nodded. "Yes. I'm glad we came here."
"Me too. This is exactly what we needed," he said.
"Philadelphia was so dreary, even in the summer," she said. "Pittsburg was worse."
"You don't have to think about that anymore. It's over. You're free. We don't even go back to that part of the country again."
"We can go back," she said. "But perhaps we should avoid Pennsylvania. He holds grudges. I'm sure he would make things difficult for us, divorce or no divorce."
Jack put an arm around her. "Don't worry about him. He's out of our lives."
"Jack, can we get married here?"
"Sure."
"Right here? On the beach?"
"Why not?" He grinned. "We could do it at dawn, have the ceremony as the sun rises."
…..
Rose slowly rocked back and forth, murmuring to Jack. It didn't matter that he didn't seem to hear. She was sure he could. If she kept talking, he would wake up, eventually. "We'll live on the beach," she said. "You need the sun. You wouldn't last very long in Philadelphia. I know you said Wisconsin is cold, but it's worse there, and you left. Maybe that's why. You're golden. The sun nourishes you. Not like me. I burn. My skin turns as red as my hair. It's awful. And I get freckles. I've spent my life wearing hats, standing under shade, holding parasols, all to avoid ruining my complexion. You've never had that problem, have you?" She brushed his hair away from his face. "No," she said. She kissed him. "I'm so sorry, Jack, for all of this."
…..
They danced without music. Laughing, Rose said, "The ocean will be our music." She fit into his arms perfectly. Their hand found the right places, as if they had been dancing together for years. He looked down into her eyes. They sparkled; the sad, haunted look was gone. Stars filled the sky overhead. "What are you thinking?" she asked.
"Nothing," he answered.
"Nothing?"
"Just feeling."
…..
Cal laughed when he came back and found them gone. He couldn't stop himself. Rose had more strength than he'd given her credit for. He glance around the room. Blood was splattered across the floor. The poker still lay where Lovejoy had dropped it. A table was broken. The chair on its side. They couldn't have gotten far. He pictured them, slowly dragging themselves through the ship; it was a pathetic sight. They were sure to be noticed. Finding them again wouldn't be difficult. They would need medical attention. Dawson might be dead. Cal had seen the blow; it wasn't something Jack would just shrug off.
But there would be questions. People would want to know what happened and why. He could give the curious incentive to keep quiet, but he couldn't silence the story forever. Rumors have a way of getting out eventually, as he knew all too well. There was also the matter of Rose's infernal shrieking. She had never screamed like that before. It had been ignored this time. No-one wanted to get involved, but if it happened again, there would be questions.
…..
Fabrizo was outside with Helga when the story reached him. Somehow, it had traveled from the First Class suites that heard Rose scream to a maid to a steward to another maid to someone else who told someone else, and now, he was hearing a garbled version of it from Tommy. Helga watched their faces and hands, only understanding a little of what they said. "Fabrizo?" she said. "Something is wrong?" She spoke slowly, pronouncing the English words carefully.
'No," he said reassuringly. "Just gossip, that's all. Want to go back inside?" He motioned with his hand, and she nodded. He left her with her sister and went in search of Jack and Rose. If even part of the story was true, they would need help.
…..
Rose was nodding off when Jack spoke. His voice was faint, barely a whisper. Her eyes snapped open. "Jack?" she said. His eyes remained closed. She touched his face. "I know you said something. I heard you. Jack, please."
"Rose."
Her heart skipped a beat. "I'm here," she said reassuringly. She cradled him in her arms. "I'm with you. We're safe."
He heart her, but she sounded so far away. It didn't make sense. She was right next to him. He was touching her. He watched, horrified, as she began to fade before his eyes. "Rose!" he cried, trying to maintain his grip on her. On the other side of the dream, his voice came out as a whisper; with each cry, it grew stronger.
"Jack!" She fought the urge to shake him. "Wake up," she pleaded, kissing him. "You can do it. I know you can."
Finally, his eyes opened. He smiled weakly. There you are," he said. "You disappeared." He looked around. "Where are we?" He moved to sit up, but an icy pain in the back of his head stopped him.
"Don't try to move," she said. "Just rest."
"What happened?"
"Don't you remember?" she asked.
"I remember being on the beach—" His face fell. "That wasn't real. We're still on the ship."
She nodded. "I'm afraid so."
"How did we get away from Cal?"
"He left us alone. He didn't think I would try anything, or maybe he didn't think I could," she explained. "I picked you up and carried you out of there."
Ignoring her protests and the pain, he pulled himself up. In the dim light, he saw the bruises on her face, the cut on her cheek from Cal's ring. He lifted her hands. Her wrists were ringed with dark fingerprints. Her dress was torn. "You lost your shoes," he said sadly.
"I packed another pair. Before."
They looked into each other's face, both wishing they could have prevented the violence inflicted on them. "I had this dream," he said. "We were on the beach, somewhere far away from all of this. We were gonna get married on the beach."
"That sounds wonderful." She laughed joylessly. "Too bad it was a dream."
"Rose—"
"Jack, don't, please," she said. "I know what you're going to say, and there's no need. It happened. We survived. We're safe, for now, so let's not talk about it. Seeing you hurt was difficult enough. I don't want to relive it any more than I have to."
"I'm sorry," he said. "That's all I'm gonna say. I need you to know that. I promised I'd—"
"Jack, don't." Her voice was gentle, but her eyes were determined. "I don't want to start out apologizing and trying to make things up to one another, particularly things that aren't either of our faults. Someone has been telling me to apologize my entire life, for one thing or another, and I'm not going to do it anymore. I'm not going to blame myself for anything someone else does. Cal is the one who should be apologizing." Her voice gradually rose. "To us, to me, for everything he's done." She didn't know exactly when it happened, but something within her had changed. Perhaps it happened when she saw Jack hurt or when she waited desperately for him to wake up. Or maybe it was picking him up that had done it, dragging him to safety with bare feet and a torn dress, knowing no-one she passed would help if she asked. No-one would even believe her. Jack was the first person to see what went on and say something. She knew her suffering was an open secret in their circle, but that only earned her veiled pity and sympathy. It did nothing to help her.
So, she would have to help herself, and as painful as it was to admit, sometimes that would mean not relying on anyone, not even Jack. Some battles he couldn't fight for or even with her. She was still afraid; he wasn't sure she would ever stop being afraid, unless Cal died, but that would leave his family to contend with. The thought of his father's coldly appraising stare made her shudder.
"Alright, we won't talk about it," he said. "But we need to get something for that." He pointed to the cut on her cheek. "It looks deep."
"You have a few of your own," she replied.
He tried to shrug, but his shoulder was stiff and sore. "I'll be alright. Don't worry." Using a crate to steady himself, he slowly stood up. His knees threatened to buckle; Rose held him by the shoulders.
"Don't try to do too much at once," she cautioned. "That bastard tried to kill you."
"Which one?" He tried to make it a joke, but his words fell flat.
"Lovejoy."
"That makes sense. I forgot about him for a minute. That's how he got me," Jack said, the memory of that moment filtering back. "You were—" He stopped, unable to say it.
She took his face in her hands. "Don't think about it," she said. "We agreed not to talk about it, so let's try not to think about it either."
"We need to get checked out, at least, and I don't know about you, but I'm famished. Is that strange? Being hungry at a time like this?"
She shook her head. "I'm hungry too. I suppose our bodies need replenishment after…" She took a deep breath. "Do you have an infirmary down here?"
"I don't know," he answered. "Probably. They wouldn't make you go to same doctor as us, would they?" He laughed, earned a smile from her. "I'll think we'll be noticed," he added.
"I don't care anymore," she said. "What else can he do? Cal hates scenes. He won't come after us in public again."
They were about to head up the stairs when the door opened. Rose sucked in her breath. Jack squeezed her hand and pushed her behind a stack of crates. He peered around them, readying himself for a fight. His body protested, but he ignored it. Relief washed over him as he saw Fabrizo coming down the stairs. "It's alright," he said, standing up. "Fabrizo," he called. "Over here."
….
One Month Later
Her movements woke him up. The bed was just large enough for the two of them, but the slightest twitch was felt on the other's side. Rose clutched the blanket, her head turning back and forth. She twisted her feet as if trying to run. "No," she murmured. "Jack."
He lifted her into his arms. "I'm here," he said. "It's just a dream." He gave her a gentle shake. "Wake up, Honey-Rose. You're just dreaming again."
She pressed her face against his neck and held him tightly. "It was so real," she said. "It's always so real."
"Was it about Cal again?"
She nodded. "And you. I wish they would stop. I don't know how to make them stop."
"It'll take time," he said. "Don't push yourself so much."
"I don't have time," she replied. "I want to be free now."
"You are."
"Not if he keeps invading my dreams," she said. "He doesn't know where I am, and yet, he can still control me." Her tone was bitter. "He'll never divorce me."
"Hey, didn't we already talk about that? He'll do it eventually. He needs heirs. We just gotta wait until he's accepted you're not coming back."
Jack made sense, and she was inclined to agree with him. But she had seen the look in Cal's eyes that day on the ship. He would kill her before he let her go. A divorce couldn't be hushed up entirely, even if he did find a way to make it seem like she was dead. There would be a record of it. Eventually, someone would find out, and that was a possibility Cal wouldn't allow.
…..
The apartment had to rooms, though neither was very spacious. The front room served as a kitchen, living room, and a bedroom for Fabrizo. He slept on a narrow sofa. They had a table and three chairs. One was on the verge of breaking, but Jack claimed he could fix it. There were no closets, just hooks on the walls. They shared a bathroom with the other tenants. They spent the first day scrubbing, going over every inch of the place, but Rose still felt it was dirty. She didn't say anything. Jack did his best to make it as nice as possible. He brought home fresh flowers every day. She suspected he picked them from private gardens. Their meager earnings barely paid the rent and fed them, but neither Jack nor Fabrizo seemed to mind. She tried to be as optimistic as they were. It was awkward at times, living with two men. Fabrizo was friendly, but there was a distance between them. She was grateful to him. He helped them hide on the ship and sent Cal's emissaries in the wrong direction. He brought them food and snuck first aid supplies out of the infirmary. Jack was lucky to have such a friend.
Jack held her close before leaving. "I love you," he said. "Don't be afraid." He kissed her, slowly and deeply.
"I'll find a job today," she said, sounding more confident than she felt.
"It's alright if you don't," he said. "Really, we'll be fine."
"I want to. I don't want you taking care of me forever. I said I would contribute, and I will. Even if we were married. I'd still want to do my part."
"I love that about you," he said. "Be careful. Don't—"
"I won't go anywhere he would go," she promised.
…..
Rose had no way of knowing simply staying away from the upper class neighborhoods wasn't enough. Cal had a team of detectives looking for her, all with instructions to scour the poor areas of the city. The police weren't involved, but that was only because he didn't trust them to be discrete. He couldn't go home until she was found. Even if he reported her missing, he would have to remain in New York, playing the concerned husband.
He wanted her found, but the thought of having her back after weeks—months, possibly—with Jack was distasteful, to say the least. There was no way of knowing what vile things she would do for him or what diseases he carried. If he did find her, she might not be fit to take back. It might be best if she just disappeared forever.
Ruth presented a problem. She wasn't likely to go along with that without some proof of Rose's death. Cal was surprised by the depth of her feelings. She rarely showed affection for Rose, and yet, now she was almost inconsolable. "It's only a matter of time," Cal assured her. "She can't hide forever; this is just a childish whim. How will she take care of herself? She'll come back on her own."
"Do you think she will? Cal, I know how difficult she can be, but—"
Cal waved away her concerns. "Sooner or later," he said. "Rose will see coming home is for the best. She'll see how much better off she is as my wife." Even, he added silently, if I have to make her see.
….
Rose slowly trudged home, exhausted after a day of rejections. She had no skills, no experience, and it was obvious. Her eagerness didn't seem to help. There were hundreds of eager girls. What made her special? Nothing. She looked at her hands. Perfect. Smooth and white, they gave her away. They marked her a different, as a woman who didn't need to work. She saw it in the eyes of the people she met. They thought this was a lark for her, something to pass the time until she married or had children. She didn't know how to make them understand it was her life. She had nothing to go back to. There was no family, no money to fall back on. Jack was doing his best, but the struggle to survive would eventually take its toll. He would never say it, but she knew it would. Had she done the right thing? Was she just making his life more difficult?
I would have died if I'd stayed. But was that Jack's responsibility? It wasn't up to him to save her. If she was saving herself, wasn't it up to her to take care of herself?
Rose lifted her chin and straightened her back. She quickened her pace, walking with purpose now. I'm here. I survived. I made my choice. The words soothed her frayed nerves. Somehow, everything would work out. She would find a way to make it work.
He spotted her as she rounded the corner. She had removed her hat, and her curls fought against the pins that bound them. Even in her simplest dress, she stuck out. The color was too rich, the fabric too fine for that part of town. She moved quickly, with a grace acquired after years of dance classes. He followed her, remaining far enough back not to arouse suspicion. She didn't seem to notice anyone she passed, though. He lost her at a traffic light. A crowd waited to cross the street, and when he got through it, she was gone.
…
"He doesn't like me, does he?" Rose whispered. Even with the door closed, Fabrizo could head everything unless they kept their voices down. It made Rose wish she and Jack spoke the same languages, but he only had a smattering of French and Italian, just enough to get by. Her fluency in French and German offered no help, although she could talk to herself in German. That was more of a comfort than she had expected. She kept her journal in German. She and Jack were so connected, but to her dismay, she discovered there were moments when she wanted to be alone, with not even his thoughts next to hers. There were things he just couldn't understand, though he tried, and she suspected there were things she couldn't understand about him. They could only be so close.
"Who? Fabrizo? Sure he likes you."
Rose shook her head. "I don't think he does. I want to be his friend, but I can't. It's like he doesn't want me to. He's nice to me, but that's because of you."
"He doesn't like the situation," Jack argued. "It's not you. It's that you're married, and—"
"And it's who I'm married to?" she finished.
"Yeah."
"I'm trying not to be a burden," she said.
"No-one said you were. Rose—"
"If I weren't here, would either of you be?" she asked. "Or would you have moved on?"
"I don't know. We really wouldn't have that much more money without you, if that's what you think. Don't worry about that." He pulled her to him. "I want you here," he said.
"I'll try again tomorrow."
He rubbed her back soothingly. "You don't have to."
"Jack, I have to."
"You know I'd take care of you," he said, resting his chin on her hair. "If I had anything to give you, I would."
"You've given me more than enough. And even if you could, I would want you to support me. Not that way," she said. "I have to learn to take care of myself, as difficult as that may be. We both need that."
"I know. I just—I want to make it easier for you. I know how hard the world is, and I don't want you going through what I've gone through."
She smiled faintly. "Is it any worse than my marriage?"
"Probably not." He kissed her forehead. "Maybe we should get out of New York. Maybe we'd have better luck somewhere else."
"Like where?"
"We could go to Wisconsin," he said. "I never thought I'd go back, but I own some property, and Cal'd never think to look there."
...
Cal listened silently, his pose relaxed, his features blank. Darren spoke quickly, sparing no detail. Cal was sure he had indeed seen Rose, and part of him was relieved. She sounded healthy, and if she was alone, perhaps that meant Jack had already abandoned her. She might actually be willing to hear reason. Convincing her might be easier than he had anticipated.
"But you don't know where she went after that?" Cal said.
"No, sir. She could have gone in a number of directions. I couldn't investigate them all alone."
"But you're certain you know where to find her again?"
"I believe so," Darren said. "Yes."
"Goof. Go back there tomorrow and see what you can find out."
