Chapter 7 - The Life He Dug Out of the Snow
One year later, snow returned to Hollow Falls.
I hated it.
Eli loved it.
"You're cheating!" he shouted.
"I don't cheat."
"You threw snow in my face!"
"Strategic advantage."
"That's cheating!"
Goliath charged between us.
I fell backward into the snow.
Eli laughed so hard he could barely stand.
Walter watched from the porch.
"You know," he called, "for a terrifying criminal mastermind, you're losing badly to a ten-year-old."
"I'm allowing him to build confidence."
"Sure."
Eli dropped beside me.
"Remember when I found you?"
"Unfortunately."
"You looked terrible."
"Thank you."
"I thought you were dead."
"So did I."
His smile faded slightly.
"Do you ever think about it?"
"Sometimes."
"Do you still hate snow?"
"Yes."
He nodded seriously.
"Fair."
I sat up.
The last year had changed more than I expected.
Damian was awaiting trial.
Several corrupt operations tied to him had been dismantled.
I sold businesses I should never have owned.
Legitimate companies remained.
Shipping.
Security.
Restaurants.
Construction.
Gabriel complained constantly that I'd become boring.
I considered that progress.
Walter walked down from the porch.
"Got something for you."
He handed me an envelope.
Inside was a document.
THE ELI BENNETT FOUNDATION
I looked up.
"What is this?"
"You tell me."
I read further.
A scholarship and emergency-rescue foundation for rural Appalachian communities.
Anonymous initial donation:
Five million dollars.
I looked toward Gabriel, standing beside an SUV.
He raised both hands.
"Don't look at me."
Walter smiled.
"I know it was you."
"Prove it."
"Still hiding behind anonymity?"
"I have a reputation."
Eli grabbed the document.
"What does it do?"
Walter explained.
"It helps volunteer rescue teams buy equipment. And it pays scholarships for kids from small mountain towns."
Eli looked at me.
"You did that?"
"No evidence."
He smiled.
Then he hugged me.
I froze.
Physical affection had never been part of my skill set.
Walter watched.
"You're supposed to hug him back."
"I know."
"Doesn't look like it."
Slowly, I put my arms around Eli.
Goliath immediately jumped against both of us.
"Dog."
Eli laughed.
"He likes you."
"He has terrible judgment."
Later that evening, Walter built a fire.
Eli fell asleep on the couch with Goliath beside him.
I stood near the window.
Snow fell silently beyond the glass.
Walter joined me.
"You're different."
"People keep saying that."
"Does it bother you?"
"Yes."
He smiled.
"Good."
We watched the storm.
After a while, Walter spoke.
"Eli still doesn't understand who you were."
"I hope he never does."
"He knows enough."
"What does he think?"
Walter looked toward the sleeping boy.
"He thinks you're the man he found in the snow."
I said nothing.
"He doesn't see the Reaper."
"That's because he's a kid."
"No."
Walter shook his head.
"Kids sometimes see people more clearly than adults."
I looked down at my hands.
The tattoos were still there.
The scars were still there.
My past hadn't disappeared.
Maybe it never would.
But something had changed.
A year earlier, I had been buried beneath the snow with my wrists bound behind my back.
My brother thought he was burying a king.
My enemies thought they were ending an empire.
They were wrong.
Because a nine-year-old boy and a stubborn golden retriever walked into the forest that morning.
Eli hadn't known my name.
He hadn't known what I'd done.
He hadn't known men feared me from Manhattan to Baltimore.
He had simply seen someone dying.
And he'd chosen to help.
I spent most of my life believing loyalty had to be purchased, earned, or forced.
Eli taught me otherwise.
Sometimes loyalty was a dog lying beside a freezing stranger.
Sometimes courage was a frightened child running through a blizzard.
And sometimes redemption began with someone deciding your life was worth saving before you had done anything to deserve it.
Eli stirred on the couch.
His eyes opened.
"Mister Roman?"
"Yeah?"
"You staying for Christmas?"
I looked at Walter.
He shrugged.
"Apparently you're invited."
I turned back toward Eli.
"Yeah."
A sleepy smile crossed his face.
"Good."
His eyes closed again.
Goliath lifted his head, looked at me, then rested it beside Eli.
Outside, the snow kept falling.
For the first time, I didn't hate it.
Once, men across the East Coast had called me the Reaper because wherever I went, something ended.
But in a frozen Appalachian forest, beneath enough snow to become my grave, a boy had given me something nobody else ever could.
A second life.
May you like
And this time—
I intended to deserve it.
