Chapter Thirty-Three
A week had passed since the attack.
Slowly, I was beginning to feel better. I could at least get myself out of bed now, and shower without Ara’s help. Sam no longer looked at me like I was something that had been dragged out of a swamp, and Neri could look me in the eye without almost bursting into tears.
Today I had the house to myself. Ara was at college, and the kids were at school. The police had filled the college in on what had happened with Charlie. He had been fired (which I guess was expected when you were arraigned without bail on attempted rape and aggravated assault charges).
I had been given a leave from my classes, and with only my exams left, I could take them when I was fully recovered, and still graduate at the end of the year.
I set myself up in the living room, pillows and blankets, with the TV playing old movies, just as I used to when I was little. The only difference was mom wasn’t here to feed me chicken soup and flat lemonade.
There had been no further news on mom, or Michael. After telling Neri and Sam repeatedly that no news was good news, I was starting to believe it myself. I rolled over onto my side, wincing in pain as the pressure hit my ribs. I didn’t care what anyone said, bruised ribs were just as painful as broken ones.
I hadn’t seen or heard from Devon all week.
As much as I tried to tell myself I didn’t care, I did. I was hurt. Maybe I had done the wrong thing, and yes, I probably should have told him, but he was being a dick by not talking to me.
My heart leapt as the doorbell rang.
Struggling to my feet, I pushed the feelings of hope away, the hope that it was Devon. Maybe he’d forgiven me? Or at least come to talk to me in a civilized manner. Like an adult.
I opened the door, unable to stop the disappointment from showing in my face.
“I’m used to disappointment and regret when people see me, but even that look was harsh.” An unusually tall man with a moustache smiled down at me. Next to him was a middle aged woman. Both dressed in suits, the man held out an ID badge, “I’m Officer Stanley Harris, and this is Officer Melinda Murphy.”
The FBI.
“Sorry, I thought you might be someone else.” I forced a smile, “Come in.”
“You don’t look to be in the best shape, Ms Delancy, I presume?” I nodded, my brow furrowing. I’d just assumed they would have heard about the attack from the police. Not that I knew how these things worked.
“Call me Kait.” I said, “I was attacked last week.” I added settling myself on the couch once again. “I’m okay.” I assured him, seeing his concerned expression.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is this a bad time?”
“It depends on what you want…or what you want to tell me.” I added, hoping they’d get the hint that the last thing I needed right now was bad news. I watched as the two of them exchanged a look.
I knew that look. It was the same look I gave Ara whenever Sam said or did something inappropriate, which was often.
“Kait, we’ve apprehended a Michael Barlow, under suspicion of your mother’s murder.”
“Her murder?” I repeated, not sure I heard correctly. The last I had heard, mom was still missing, and there was no real idea on her whereabouts. When had that suddenly changed to murder?
“I’m confused…” My voice trailed off, “She’s dead?” I asked weakly, struggling to breathe.
“Kait, your mother has been missing for over a month now. Though we have not located a body, we do have extensive circumstantial evidence that leads us to believe she has been murdered by Mr Barlow.”
I stared at the floor. Tears welled in my eyes as I let this news sink in. How the hell was I going to tell Neri and Sam? This would break their hearts. I knew all along what had been keeping them together was clinging to the hope that mom would return.
“What now?” I asked numbly.
“Now we start the proceedings against Mr Barlow.” Officer Harris said softly. “We can use the evidence we have to try and bargain with him to find out where your mother is.”
Where her body was. That’s what he meant.
“Kait, is there someone we can call for you? I wouldn’t like to leave you alone after delivering this news.” Officer Harris frowned at me.
“Uh, yes. Can you call Devon Walkerson, please?” I whispered softly, knowing he was the only person I wanted with me right now.
I was vaguely aware of Devon in deep conversation with the FBI officers by the front door. Sitting on the couch, I didn’t notice the throbbing pain in my head. Or the stabbing sensation every time a sob escaped from my mouth. I felt numb.
Devon sat down next to me on the couch. He wrapped his arms around me.
“I’m so sorry, Kait.” He whispered, hugging me closely. I closed my eyes, trying to memories the smell of him. “I’m so sorry.” He repeated, over and over. I snuggled into his embrace, glad that he was here, though still not clear as to why he was here. Or why I had them call him.
Was he just here to support me over my mother? Or had he forgiven me?
He touched my face, running his hands over the faded bruises, “Are they still sore?” He asked quietly. I nodded, searching his eyes for a sign of what he was feeling. Gently cupping my neck, he leaned down and kissed me.
When his lips touched mine, the world around me faded. He and I were the only two that mattered. So long as he was with me, everything would be fine.
“I’m sorry Kait. I was a jerk. I should’ve let you explain.” He kissed me again, my lips tingling from his touch, “I should have been there for you.”
“Why has it taken you a week to come over and see me?” I asked quietly. “And even now, you’re only here because I asked you here.” Devon pulled away from me, resting his hands on his knees.
“I wanted to come and see you Kait. You have no idea how much I wanted to come and see you.” He shook his head and laughed bitterly. “You’re all I’ve thought about. I haven’t even worked this last week.” His head tilted, his eyes connecting with mine. “Why didn’t you call me?” He asked.
I went to reply and stopped. It was a fair question. Why hadn’t I called him? I’d left it up to him to make the first move, but maybe he’d been facing the same anxieties I had.
“I went to call you so many times.” I admitted, tears welling in my eyes. “I was convinced you didn’t want to speak to me. After you came here. About the attack…Devon you couldn’t even look at me.” I whispered, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.
“You think that’s why I couldn’t look at you? Kait, it was tearing me apart hearing what that f*cking cunt did to you.” Anger radiated through his voice. “All I’ve wanted to do is beat the living f*ck out of that a*shole.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t know how. We were on, and then we were not, and then I needed money for Neri-“
“Shh, Kait. You don’t need to apologize. My behavior, the way I acted, seeing you hurt, knowing how close I came to losing you, brought back memories.” Devon entangled his hand in mine, toying with my fingertips.
“Melissa.” I realized slowly. It hadn’t even occurred to me how me so injured might’ve affected him.
“Seeing you hurt like that, I didn’t think I could handle going through that again. I thought maybe I wasn’t ready. Maybe I hadn’t moved on from Melissa’s death. I didn’t know if I could put myself out there again like that.” He choked.
“And now?” I whispered, my heart thumping as he looked right into my eyes.
“As hard as it is to let myself love you, I can’t imagine not loving you.” He replied. I blinked back tears as he kissed me again. His hands roamed around my waist, up my back, an urgency present in his movements.
“I love you too.” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck. I winced as he squeezed me a little too tight.
“Still sore?” He smiled apologetically, his lips finding their way to mine repeatedly. I sighed softly, thinking how much I’d missed this.
Lying in Devon’s arms, I thought about how hard the next few months were going to be. Charlie’s trial, mom’s murder trial, not to mention helping the kids come to terms with mom’s death.