Aftermath Page 6

  The chain links rattled as he withdrew his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

  The sound of retreating shoes echoed in the ravine. Rivaled by sirens. Her fingers scraped down the wall as she tried to find purchase.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Journal Entry #82

  Age: 13

  THIS JOURNAL WAS given to me at a young age.

  The proof lies in my indiscernible chicken scratch and the basic compilation of details held in those early pages. I don’t remember who gave me the hard-covered book with hundreds of pages at my disposal.

  It’s not important, really.

  Maybe someone had no idea what to get me that year for Christmas, knew I was of writing age and picked this baby up last minute.

  In any event, this journal was most likely given in an attempt to provide a place for storage of secret thoughts. A place I am supposed to be myself without fear of judgment. I guess I never had that, because when I look back at the tattered pages filled with scribbles slowly growing into loopy swirls with boys’ names and friendships changed, I see half-truths. Details best left under the rug and standard worries for a standard seeming girl.

  When you read this—because you will; no journal is ever safe—I wonder what you will think of me. Maybe you will see a normal teen on the cusp of womanhood, but lacking the knowledge it requires to actually be a woman.

  Thirteen isn’t a brilliant age. What naivety that remains is product of careful choices or good parenting and maybe a combination of both. And, perhaps, it is none of those things, but luck. Regardless, I think I know enough to survive, if needed.

  I have survived this far.

  ___

  WHEN ROBINSON FOUND the men responsible for this, they were going to wish all sorts of things. Maybe even pray for a swift arrest and the safety being behind bars would assimilate.

  The fear etched on his niece’s face would likely never be rivaled. Or erased. And the only thing that had stopped him from chasing after men who were long gone was the way Ariana clung to Amanda.

  Scratches ran down the length of her arms. A large gash was visible on her cheek. Her clothes were full of mud and she’d lost her yellow backpack somewhere.

  She wouldn’t even let them buckle her in a rear seat on the way to the hospital. Hung on as if life depended on it, barely blinking.

  So, Amanda had strapped them both in the back seat, Ariana in her lap. Whispered incoherent words as he managed to drive them to the hospital without getting into a wreck.

  Got them settled in the ER, where they took an X-Ray of her left arm. The one he’d not noticed was hanging funny. Because he’d been busy concentrating on her uneven breathing.

  Gone was the giggling and non-stop talk. In its place hung a blank stare and pale skin.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen to anyone. Ever. Certainly not his niece.

  “She has a cut on her face. They said it would need a few stitches.” Robinson swallowed back a heavy dose of bile. Stepped aside to let his sister precede him into the ER.

  Lilly didn’t say anything.

  Nothing new, there.

  She pressed her lips together and scanned the crowd of people in the waiting room. Readjusted the colorful scarf that hid a scar, courtesy of a car accident, which had almost taken her life. The cloth looked more like a headband and held back jet-black hair. It matched her Capri pants and flowing shirt.

  “Ariana was pretty shaken up. She’s going to need you.”

  As if he’d told her she’d be manning a rocket to Mars, a hint of panic bloomed in her eyes. She tucked her bottom lip inward.

  Did she understand anything he said? Were they destined to live out their lives in this weird paragon of him pressing her to enjoy a normal life? And her refusal to acknowledge anything or anyone.

  Except, in the most inopportune moments.

  “Is Amanda with her?” The words came out slow, as if Lilly had committed them to memory a million times and it pained her to repeat the phrase.

  “I know you don’t like her, but—”

  Lilly’s gaze flashed to him. She readjusted the purse hanging from her shoulder. “I never said that.” Again, the words were well-practiced. Deliberate and almost part automation.

  No. She hadn’t said the exact sentence. Instead, a lot of other words had come from her mouth, all mixed up and angry. And aimed at the woman he loved, on a day that should have been a happy memory.

  Anger’s dangerous cousin bubbled in his chest, the boiling point the thought of his niece in a blue and white checkered gown.

  He didn’t have time for the Robinson reactor meltdown. The one where he told his sister to get out of his house until she could deal with the past, in a manner resembling the woman who’d helped raise him after their mother’s unexpected death.

  In this boiling pit of ugly disease, Amanda wouldn’t be spared. Sure, she’d never deserved any of the things Lilly said, but where was his in-your-face detective who didn’t take crap? The woman who would befriend the least deserving individual. Take the worst situation and turn it into something spectacular.

  Instead, she’d disappeared when they’d needed her most. When he’d needed her most.

  He wiped a hand over his face. A blowout of that magnitude would only produce more of the same. He took a deep breath and buried every simmering emotion as far as his keyed up body would allow him.

  His niece needed him just as much as she needed her own mother. He wouldn’t let her down. Couldn’t bear the thought.

  “Amanda coaxed Ariana from hiding in the ravine overpass. And she hasn’t let Amanda leave her sight since. This kind of thing is expected.” How many times had he said something like it to concerned parents?

  Your child will return to a semblance of normal. Give it time.

  What a load of crap. The phrase tasted like lumpy pencil shavings in his mouth. Thick and unmanageable. All he had to do was swallow. And he didn’t want to. Wanted to spit it back out and rage at whatever manufacturer had promised something far different.

  “It’s normal for cops to hang around after saving someone?” Disdain dripped from the sentence.

  What did she want from him? From any of them?

  Robinson hit the button on the security door leading to the ER bays a little harder than necessary. Wondered if Lilly even noticed his frustration or if she enjoyed spiking his blood pressure at random intervals throughout the day.

  He made a slow count to ten. Waited for the bored kid on the other side to answer his call. “In this case, yes. The men who chased your daughter from a crime scene know what she looks like.” He glared at her. “Probably even have her backpack. So, they might know a lot of other things about her. Like where she goes to school. And lives. Who her friends are.”

  Lilly’s complexion took on a pale hue. A harsh swallow filled the silence. Her gaze found the checkered floor.

  He stuck his tongue in his cheek. He couldn’t win.

  The logical part of his brain urged him to apologize for his callous words. Find a way to comfort a woman still struggling to regain her own life.

  The words and actions were nowhere to be found. She’d have to deal with it, because he was done playing nursemaid.

  “Room number and patient, please.” A male voice came over the intercom.

  He bent near it. Kept his voice low. “One-oh-two.”

  “Your name?” The voice was full of high-alert, now. Probably because Robinson had scared the piss out of him before he’d left. Made it pretty clear he’d better do his job well, today. Not dink around on the Internet and let whoever he wanted inside the ER.

  “Agent Robinson, FBI.”

  A loud buzz sounded and the latch on the door opened. He pulled it toward himself and let Lilly pass through first. Ariana’s room was the first one on the right. The door was cracked and revealed Amanda kneeling in front of his niece, who sat on the bed. Her arm was in a sling. Her cheek bandaged. The hospital gown was gone, dirty street clothes back in pla
ce.

  Robinson rubbed a hand over his jaw. He hadn’t even thought to grab her another set. His focus had been on getting Lilly and returning to the most important little girl in his life.

  Some pseudo guardian he made.

  The low murmur of Amanda’s voice carried to the doorway as he pushed inside, the words indiscernible.

  Her gaze flashed to the spot they stood. One hand reached toward her service revolver. The stark anger there cut through him. Stole his breath and mingled with the craziness swirling in his veins.

  Even when her own life had been on the line, he’d never seen so much of the visceral emotion. It settled his tilted axis. Set him on the same even ground.

  For this second, he wasn’t alone. Wasn’t trapped making parental decisions with ramifications he couldn’t see, by himself.

  Right from the time Ariana had called, Amanda had picked up as if the teen were her flesh and blood. Kept herself calm while doing the same for Ariana. And him.

  The drive over was a blur of reckless maneuvers.

  If he asked her to start over would she accept his offer? Would she stay despite his sister’s off-putting attitude?

  Amanda stood. Squeezed Ariana’s non-injured shoulder and nodded toward them.

  Ariana’s gaze touched on him, then shifted to Lilly, shock rolling over her features. “Mom?” The syllable was quiet and filled with barely concealed panic. As if she might break into tears any second.

  “Oh, honey.” Lilly rushed to her child’s side, taking the place the other woman had vacated. Worry filled her face as she hugged the teen. Ariana hesitated a moment and then wrapped her free arm around her mom.

  A tear ran down Lilly’s cheek, the only emotion he’d seen from her since the wedding.

  Amanda reached his side, in hesitant, heavy steps. She blew out a shuttered breath of air and faced him. “Her shoulder was dislocated. And the plastic surgeon said the cut on her face shouldn’t scar too badly.” She reach toward him, but stopped, mid-air. Her hand balled into a loose fist and dropped to her side. A trace of Ariana’s blood tracked across her collarbone.

  “Come here.” He grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser next to them and tugged her with him, to the sink inches beyond it. “You’ve got blood on you.” He wet the towel and dabbed the reddened area. Her skin was warm against his fingertips.

  She followed his gaze. Didn’t move as he rubbed the tissue across her skin. Gave a harsh swallow and refocused on him. “There’s a prescription for pain meds. The doctor already discharged her. I’m gonna head upstairs and check on our vic. The nurses told me Jonas got out of surgery fifty minutes ago. Should be in ICU shortly.”

  The ringing in his ears blotted out her words. He paused. He’d heard wrong. “Jonas?”

  Her lips pressed together. Sadness gathered in those amber eyes. Right behind the still-blazing fire.

  Robinson dropped his hand, the towel clenched in his grasp. He’d been so focused on Ariana, he hadn’t paid much attention to the identity of the man paramedics had worked to revive. “Jonas is our vic?”

  No. This wasn’t right.

  She flicked a glance at Ariana and Lilly. Placed a hand on his upper arm and shifted them closer to the door. “They carved permanent slang into his flesh,” she whispered. “Before they beat him. There are bruises on his arms, shoulders and thighs from where he was held in place.

  “The doctors aren’t sure if he fell and hit his head or took a blunt object to the skull, but there’s some swelling. According to what Ariana said, he was lucid enough to tell her to run. And he managed to stand up and fight long enough for her to actually do so.”

  Something heavy swirled in his stomach. These men, who’d subdued an SBI agent, had been after his niece. A sweet girl who loved drawing and playing guitar. Would rescue a fly from certain death. “Any prints in the bruising?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s hope so. According to his list of belongings, it doesn’t seem like they took anything of value. The first responders on scene found his BMW nearby, the keys in the open and available. Along with his wallet.”

  Which means they were after something else. Or they’d been interrupted and spooked by Ariana. And the ensuing emergency personnel sirens.

  “They said they planned to kill him.” Ariana’s voice came out clear and strong, as if she hadn’t been through a horrific ordeal. She stood, Lilly following behind. “And all his knowledge would die with him. What knowledge?”

  An image of the three missing girls popped into his mind. All young and smiling into the camera as if they held the world by the horns. Had Jonas known something he hadn’t shared with Robinson? Or had he simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed something he couldn’t stop?

  Ariana adjusted the strap on her sling. Pain slid across her bandaged face. Her eyes glided up from the floor. “I want to see him, Uncle Robbie.”

  No.

  As if she’d heard his inner scream, Lilly’s head snapped upward. The edge of fear appeared on his sister’s face.

  It settled in his gut.

  He couldn’t let either woman see the massacre Amanda had described. “Honey, I don’t know if that’s a good idea—”

  “I’ve seen worse. I saw it today. I thought he was dead. And then he stood up and tried to defend us both.” Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes. Her voice rose. “I deserve to see how he’s doing. To get the opportunity to thank him.”

  He shook his head. Ariana expected to walk in there and give the guy a hug. “He’s not conscious right now.”

  She pressed her lips together, the exact replica of her mother. Stubborn when needed, but full of a good amount of passion. “You always said mom could hear me. If that’s true, he’ll be able to hear me, too.”

  Lilly turned a shade paler. Didn’t say a word. Meanwhile, the fire in Ariana’s eyes begged him not to make himself into a liar. Begged him to be someone she could count on.

  “Okay.” He pulled her into a hug, careful to avoid her shoulder. Kissed the top of her head. Sent a thankful prayer heavenward. Didn’t want to let go. He didn’t know what he’d do without this kid. “We’ll all go together, but you don’t have to do this. You can wait until you feel better. Have had some rest.”

  She stepped out of his hold. “I’m not going to change my mind.”

  He met Amanda’s gaze over the top of Ariana’s head. To the innocent bystander, she seemed calm. In control.

  A hint of worry, she thought no one would notice, swirled in the depths of her stance. Crossed arms. Ramrod straight posture. The way she nibbled the corner of her lip.

  It mirrored the dark weight taking up permanent residence in his gut. As if this day were the beginning of one long list of horrendous mistakes.

  ___

  SOMEONE NEEDS YOU.

  Lilly Gabriel hadn’t stepped to the plate since waking up from a coma that had destroyed her life. Taken her unborn child. Turned her strong husband into a drunk who ended his own life.

  Because that’s what he’d done. She’d read the accident reports. Knew his side stunt-driving hobby meant he could handle any vehicle, in the worst conditions.

  That he’d been unable to control a car, and his most precious cargo, would have ripped him apart. It had done that and more to her, even though none of it had been his fault.

  The accident leading to his death, however…

  She shook her head. Choked down the spider-webbing pit of rage covering her soul. It didn’t go far, before resuming a slow, upward crawl toward what remained of her heart.

  Rehab had dulled the pain for the first six months. Once she’d relearned to walk, gotten most of her words unscrambled, looked at her daughter—the way she’d become a beautiful woman overnight—the harsh reality set in.

  The past, the child and Jeff were all gone. She couldn’t ask him what he’d been thinking. Why he hadn’t thought of their daughter’s needs above his own. Or how he’d thought death was better than waiting at her bedsid
e.

  Where was the man who completed their family? The glue often holding them together?

  Lilly shook her head.

  Ariana didn’t need either of them. Not with her brother stepping in as pseudo-dad. And Amanda.

  Lilly didn’t even have an appropriate label for her.

  She sighed. Followed her brother and daughter from Ariana’s hospital room. She admired her daughter’s guts. The way she stood up for things she believed in. Her kindness toward others and easy acceptance. The talent she had with a guitar and sketch pad. The patience she’d shown Lilly on numerous occasions.

  Even when she didn’t deserve it. Especially then.

  Lilly gripped her elbow, her free hand clenching into a tight fist for a moment. The guitar, once an extension of her soul, seemed foreign. Whenever she picked it up, the notes fluttered through her mind in a jumbled heap. Much like unpracticed words flew from her mouth.

  Usually at Amanda’s expense.

  The woman walked a step behind her. Quiet. Out of sight. Stayed that way through an elevator ride and the walk through ICU. As if she knew the merest glimpse would set Lilly off.

  And it might. The still steady rise of white-hot anger bubbled beneath her skin.

  She’d been a normal human being before the accident. Full of life and happiness. Given one-hundred and ten percent to everything she did. And then she’d woken up and she wasn’t…anything.

  Not a caregiver, a nurse, a woman. Just a zombie coasting through. She ground her teeth together.

  If it weren’t for Amanda, she’d have a semi-normal life.

  When she thought of her losses—Jeff’s handsome smile and quick wit and a baby she would never hold—the despair and anguish crushed her. Left her in a dark place, in which, she couldn’t breathe. Think. Move. And yet, it was the only time her brain didn’t buzz with what-ifs. Where half-cocked accusations sounded legit.

  No apology would ever erase the damage. She wasn’t crazy enough to miss how her actions played a role in the things-never-to-be-forgiven category with her brother.

  When she might have embraced enough guilt to do something—anything—different, the truth always brought her back to the reason she was here in the first place.