Aftermath Page 14

  A scoff came from his mouth. He turned and rested one side of his body against the brick wall, facing her. “‘I don’t know what she looked like.’” Deep-seated aggravation burst to life in his sentence. “How did they let that letter leave the prison? It’s a mockery. It’s borderline harassment.” He flung his hands toward the sky. “But no big deal. I admit I cannot apologize this problem away, so I won’t bother to try. Hope you enjoy the fallout.”

  In the months after Beth’s incarceration, he’d never once expressed his feelings on the matter. Just picked up, in typical Robinson fashion. Swept those pesky loose ends under the rug and hoped the dirt never showed its face. He was a move forward or get out of the way type of guy. Dark, brooding anger—the kind that forged ironclad grudges—didn’t fit this man.

  It would destroy him. And she couldn’t bear to see it happen. She touched his arm, kept her fingers feather-light over his suit jacket. “It’s okay to be angry.”

  He shoved away from the wall, paced a few steps and turned back. One palm rubbed the stubble on his chin. The lights illuminated the blaze behind his eyes. “Aren’t you?”

  Understatement of the century. She shook her head. They’d been heading toward this all day. Might as well embrace it. “Not at all. I understand this was one giant game that went a little too far. I go to Raleigh and hang out on Death Row all the time. Beth and I talk about boys and clothes...and hey, remember that time you destroyed everything? Funny, right?” She hopped down.

  A lick of hot, fiery rage climbed her throat. Not the first for the day, but certainly in a few months. She was sick of the revolving carousel of blame. “I’m beyond angry, Robbie. I’m numb. So, I understand where you are. I comprehend what a letter like that means to you. Why it’s infuriating and sickening. And I can appreciate why Lilly hates me. I might hate me, too.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not fair.”

  Unjustness bubbled behind the fire, stoking the flames. “News flash. Life isn’t. We’ve seen the world around us more up close and personal than most. It shouldn’t be a surprise.”

  “It’s not.” He help up a hand, palm toward her. A glitter in his eyes caught her off guard. Stole a little bit of her wind.

  “I don’t expect it to be. What I do expect, is the woman I’ve chosen to spend my life with to stick around when things get rough.”

  She crossed her arms. Hoped it would hold back the inferno of the start of an unwinnable argument. “You make it sound like I packed my bags and left in the middle of the night.”

  “Might as well have been exactly that.”

  Whoa. She straightened. “Excuse me?”

  “Instead of talking things over with me, you pretty much avoided all contact.”

  He didn’t get it. Not even close. Of all people, he should have been right there with her. Seeing the damage. Making the hard call. They’d been together, but not encompassing the same scene. And his idea of taking some time had been grossly different than her definition. “My presence certainly wasn’t doing you any favors.”

  “Am I supposed to be grateful?” His jaw clenched, his hands doing the same at his sides. Frustration came off him in waves that crashed against her as if she were his own personal beach. “Thanks so much for jumping ship?”

  “What would you have said?” She threw both hands in the air. “Peace out, suckers? Lilly doesn’t want to live without Jeff. And Ariana’s been in limbo so long, waiting for one of her parents to come back to her. You are her only constant.”

  “She had you, too.”

  The words echoed in the quiet, a knife aimed right through the center of her. And he was right. The chain around her neck was proof of that.

  And every day Amanda had played stand in mother—a role she’d accept in a heartbeat if truly needed—Lilly slipped farther into the pit of darkness she’d clutched onto sometime before their wedding.

  “She needed—needs Lilly.” Not Amanda, as much as she wanted to step up and be her normal take-charge self in that area.

  His jaw muscles bunched as if he were chewing the inside of his cheek. “There is not enough time in the day to point out what’s wrong with that entire statement.”

  “But enough disagreements about things that don’t have answers.” She sucked in a slow breath. Stepped a few feet closer. “Let me lay this down for you, hot shot, so you can understand it.”

  “What’s there to understand?” Frustration clung to his raised voice. “I’m here.” He jabbed an index finger into his own chest. Repeated the motion. “I’m living it.”

  So was she. From the opposite end of the spectrum. “One minute life is perfect. On a date with my husband. Anxiously awaiting the arrival of a new baby. Then I’m driving home and some kids hit my vehicle.

  “Next thing I know, I’m waking up in a hospital. My daughter is older. My little brother, who I practically raised, looks hopeful yet fearful. My dad is gone. And my husband. My perfect, stable husband succumbed to enough drink to help him wrap his truck around a tree. And I know it was no accident.” She took a step toward him. Then another, because he’d always had that effect on her. The ability to make her forget here and now. And just hope for the future, however bleak.

  He didn’t move. Watched her as if she’d lose her mind any second and planned on joining her.

  How could she not love that? A man who knew all the craziness in her brain and stuck around, because commitment was a choice. Not only a feeling.

  And because, like her, he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stay away even if life depended on it. Except, she’d managed it, in a half-dead manner, for months the naive youngster inside of her wanted to eradicate.

  All while the present day Amanda couldn’t forget the past. Saw it every. Single. Day. “And none of it would have happened if my brother hadn’t met one woman on a routine traffic stop.”

  “You don’t know that.” His voice came out rough. “No matter what anyone says, you can’t blame yourself, A.J. The accident would have still have happened. We don’t cease to matter simply because there is a crisis. We are supposed to come together.”

  Nobody had to tell her that she’d made a choice out of duress. The need to see Robinson, Ariana and Lilly come out the victors of the circumstances they’d been dealt. Even if that meant Amanda wasn’t there.

  She should have found a way to bridge the gap between stoic silence and defenseless arguments. Still could if she’d harness the courage to come out of the icy lake.

  Without permission, her hand traced the edge of his jaw. The prickle of his stubble sent goosebumps down her arm. The warmth against her skin invited her to move closer. To take this healing balm and slather it over all the cracked and broken areas of her heart.

  Jumping from one extreme to the other wouldn’t do either of them any good. So, she stood still. Didn’t dare move even though Naive Youngster screamed, as if she were in the middle of an extreme toddler tantrum, for something entirely different.

  She should stop touching him. It was late and they both needed sleep after the emotional acrobatics of the day.

  If she could get her feet to comply, she’d listen to her brain and move away. Deeper into the frigid water and convince herself it was warmer than the air outside of it. “If I could change one thing…”

  Those blue-green eyes flared to life and latched onto her. Held her prisoner. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer.

  A sigh escaped her mouth as her thighs came into contact with his, the rest of her body following suit.

  “You know I’m not into trading moments.” The tenderness in his voice eliminated the frustration she’d set to simmer. His breath whispered over her lips.

  “If you were Lilly and I’d died, would you do anything to have me back? Even if only in your memory?” The words had a breathless quality she would snatch back, if able.

  One dark brow rose higher on his forehead than the other. The beginnings of the smile she loved grew at the corner of his lips. “If I’m
doing anything, I better get more than some memories. It better be the real deal. Not some paranormal ghost story.”

  “Well, that’s all I’ve got to offer you, buddy. Take it or leave it.”

  If she shifted forward a few inches, her lips would be on his. Soft and warm. And all hers. And she wouldn’t be numb then. Wasn’t now. Hadn’t been since this morning with the stupid dress she couldn’t bear to part with.

  “What are you doing with it?” His breath whispered across her cheek.

  Had she said something out loud? “What?”

  “Your dress. The ring. I assume you don’t try them on every day or anything.”

  Stupid, beautiful dress. “You’re ruining the moment, Robbie.”

  “So, maybe you do try them on every day.” The light around them cast a gleam in his eyes. “Kind of creepy, but I can roll with it.”

  Amanda let her hand drift from his chin and down to his chest. A laugh bubbled beneath the surface. “Hates gyms, the dentist and is enthralled with things one might label as creepy. The picture of you keeps taking odd twists and turns.”

  “You like—”

  A scream split the air around them. She jumped away from Robinson. Panic splashed across his face. Her heart kicked into her throat.

  Ariana.

  “Did Addie go off?” He asked.

  She reached for her phone. Used shaky fingers to bring up the panel. And didn’t note anything amiss. “No.”

  What if…

  They headed for the door leading to the stairs at the same time. He pushed it open. It hit the wall with a loud bang.

  Behind him, she took the steps two at a time. Had someone gotten beyond the barriers of the program? Found a way inside and hurt Lilly or Ariana?

  She misjudged the landing. Her left knee buckled and sent her toward the hard cement base.

  Robinson’s arm found her waist. He steadied her before she hit the ground. Then he released her and pulled his SIG from his shoulder holster. Slammed the door open. A crunch filled the empty space.

  The light from the hallway still cast the living room in a soft glow. Amanda scanned the area. Nothing out of place. No broken locks. No smashed windows. Her laptop and their evidence still sat on the counter, in the same place they’d left them.

  Another high-pitched scream split the air. It came from the direction of her bedroom. The door was closed. She pulled her gun and moved forward with Robinson. He braced himself on one side of the bedroom door. She took the other side, gun raised.

  The millisecond it took for him to twist the handle pushed her stomach into her throat. Then the door was open and they were both braced with guns aimed. The bedside lamp illuminated the women in the bed. Ariana clung to Lilly, her face buried in her mother’s shirt. Tears streamed down Lilly’s face as she looked up.

  Everything was evident there. Pain. Anguish. And fear. It swirled in patterns of utter disarray. Communicated an I’m-in-over-my-head-and-drowning type of emotion. It hit Amanda square in the chest. Stole her breath.

  While Amanda had been enjoying Robinson’s presence, Lilly had been stuck right here. How could they ever hope to move past that? Contemplating it didn’t seem fair.

  Robinson lowered his gun. Stepped inside. “Are you hurt?”

  “Not that way.” Her voice cracked. “Just a bad dream.”

  A pent up breath came from his mouth. He sank to the side of the bed, dejection evident in the slump of his shoulders. He hesitated a second with his hand mid-air, before rubbing his niece’s back. The sight brought a hitch to Amanda’s breathing. The unwelcome pinch behind her nose and eyes.

  Get a grip, Nettles. This isn’t your moment.

  Amanda holstered her Glock. Went to the window on the far side of the room and checked the latch. And the device monitoring for unauthorized entry and the sound of any breaking glass within ten feet. It was intact. She repeated the process on the opposite side of the bed.

  They were safe. Her brain knew that. Her heart hadn’t gotten the memo. Instead, it instructed all of the day’s adrenaline to burst to life, in her veins.

  “Can I get you guys anything?” She pushed the words past the bowling ball in her throat.

  Lilly wiped a hand over her cheeks. Shook her head.

  “I want Dad.” Ariana’s voice was muffled and filled with anguish.

  “Me too, baby.” Lilly’s eyes skittered away from them.

  Robinson’s jaw clenched.

  Amanda gnawed the inside of her cheek. No matter what he said, some things couldn’t be righted with a simple assignation of blame. Or lack of one.

  They couldn’t trade moments. This was all they had.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE WHISTLING WAS back.

  A five note tune that wouldn't leave Lilly's mind. It jangled her nerves and left her in a haze of questions. Not because the succession was reminiscent of anything sinister.

  No. It was as if she should be able to place it in everyday life. Like the beginning of Jeopardy or Sesame Street. And yet, all she heard was a whistle so faint, it couldn't be a memory.

  It had to be a drug induced byproduct. One, among many, she’d been unsuccessful in eradicating from her short-circuiting brain since she’d awoken from her coma.

  She deposited Amanda's landline on the kitchen counter, careful not to make a noise. Or risk waking the occupants on the couch.

  On tip toe, she peered at them. Amanda had her head on Baker Jackson's chest as they half-sat, half-lay on the couch. Her mouth hung open. Her legs were tucked toward her chest, her knees resting on his lower torso.

  His feet were thrown over the coffee table, next to their discharged weapons, cell phones and an assortment of sheets and pillows. The blanket Lilly had thrown over them earlier was half on the floor.

  Sleeping next to Jeff had been like that. Him with most of the covers and bed. Her swearing she could live without this tiny facet of him, only to find it wasn’t true.

  She missed his ready smile. His jokes. The way he couldn’t sing worth a lick, but never let it stop him from enjoying a good song. How he believed the best in everybody and gave second chances that often weren’t warranted.

  The whistling reached a crescendo. She turned and opened the pantry. Didn’t see anything but bread and crackers. A can of tuna. A box of sugary cereal only Ariana could eat without getting major cavities.

  “Did you get any sleep?” Amanda's groggy voice made Lilly turn as if she were a kid caught stealing candy. Her heart leapt into her throat and promised to stay.

  The other woman padded toward the kitchen as if having Lilly in her house were the most normal thing in the world.

  On the counter, the phone caught Lilly’s attention. Had she put it where it had been earlier?

  Calling Mercy hospital and checking in on Jonas had been a spontaneous move. One minute, she'd been contemplating her need for caffeine. The next, she'd been asking a nurse about his condition. Used the authoritative tone she'd heard in her brother’s voice, on several occasions.

  Garnered information with a few well-placed details. And she should feel guilty, but couldn’t summon the energy for it.

  Not knowing if Jonas had made it through the night had kept her awake. That and the stupid letter containing his short sentences, in neat handwriting. An envelope she’d carried with her for almost six months without opening.

  And then he’d gone and saved her daughter. And Lilly couldn’t stand not reading it one more second. Much like her call to check up on him had produced an urgency to rush to the hospital and wait for his early morning surgery to end.

  She ran her hand across her forehead. Came in contact with the scar at the top. The edges had softened over the last several months, but it was still raised. The first thing people saw when they looked at her.

  The first thing she saw when she looked at herself.

  How many scars would Jonas contend with?

  She should go to the hospital. Sit in the waiting area and...

&nbs
p; Lilly gripped the nearest surface.

  “You didn’t sleep at all, did you?” Amanda shot a knowing glance in her direction, her gaze hitting on Lilly’s pantry shelf death-grip.

  She released it. Shook out her hand once. “Not really.”

  Amanda opened the freezer and pulled a canister from the shelves and brought it to the coffee maker on her counter.

  Jonas wouldn't know the difference. And she didn't know him. Only met him once. Right after waking up from her coma. Shouldn't feel any connection to a man who needed a serious haircut and a shave. And an attitude adjustment, because, after five minutes, she'd gotten the distinct impression he didn't like her.

  Which seemed asinine, because he'd done most of the talking. And then proceeded to send her correspondence, over a year later, as if their meeting had a different outcome.

  She shook her head.

  “You don't have anything to eat in this house.” Her voice came out in a reprimanding mom-tone.

  She cleared her throat. Too bad. She was a mom and had filled the roll for twenty-three years. First with Baker Jackson and then Ariana. Despite her mental absence of the past eighteen months, she didn't plan to quit anytime soon.

  Could she make up for lost time? Did she even know how?

  “There's food.” Amanda rubbed her neck, filled the coffee pot and set the machine to brew. She tugged the cuffs of her sweatshirt over her hands, so only a bare hint of her unpolished nails were visible as she clutched the worn edges. Then she leaned a hip against the counter. “Coffee is a food group.”

  The hiss of the brewing substance filled the air. Along with a strong aroma that begged Lilly to pull the pot from the warmer and sneak a cup, mid-brew. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Great. Add a little more fuel to the mom-fire.

  A yawn filled the space. “No. I'm tired. And I don't function without coffee. So, if you're going to yell at me, have the decency to wait until after my first cup.” She rubbed her hands across her face. “Just to be safe, maybe wait until after the second. I can't be held liable for anything before that.”

  After everything, she deserved that. And more. “I’ll count myself forewarned.” And pray she could keep the inky darkness at bay long enough to withhold any angry outbursts.