“Let me go!” she screeched in that hideous voice.
He got into his room and she twisted violently in his arms, her hand up, she scored his neck with her nails and the pain shot through him, his arms loosening, she yanked away from him and tried to get passed him but he put a hand flat on her chest and gently pushed her back, feeling Vera, Tripp and Jasper moving in behind him to cut her off. She still made a run for it and Layne caught her again and pushed her back.
Her gaze swept Layne, his mother and his boys and she retreated, slowly stepping back, her eyes locking on Layne as he advanced.
“Don’t,” she warned, lifting a hand and stopping so Layne stopped too.
“Rocky, what’s goin’ on?” Layne asked softly.
“I can’t make you do it,” she told him and she began to pace, like an animal in a cage, side to side, her eyes flitting from him to Tripp to Vera to Jas to Layne and back as she repeated, “I can’t make you do it.”
“Do what?” Layne asked.
She shook her head, her eyes catching his. “I can’t make you do it.”
“Do what, baby?”
“Be with me,” she said and then started chanting as she paced. “I can’t make you be with me, I can’t make you be with me, I can’t make you be with me.”
Jesus. Jesus.
“Rocky, baby,” Layne whispered.
She started to shake her head and kept doing it, her eyes going to her feet, she was still pacing back and forth, “I didn’t help her. I didn’t help her. It was so dark.”
“Oh my God,” Vera breathed as Layne felt his chest squeeze.
“Rocky, what was dark?” he whispered.
She kept shaking her head. “It was so dark.”
“What was dark, honey?”
“I hid, I hid, I hid when I should have helped her. I hid in the dark,” Rocky whispered.
“You hid,” Layne said quietly, inching toward her, “You hid when Carson Fisher came?”
She started nodding then, her head moving in a rhythm, uncontrolled, bobbing up and down, Rocky was gone, the woman she was was not there. She’d slid back twenty-four years.
Layne felt Devin’s presence hit the room but he didn’t turn and Rocky didn’t notice him.
“Yes, when he came. She heard his car. She came to my room. She woke me up and told me to call 911. She told me to hide. She told me to hide.” Her head jerked back and she stopped pacing, the look on her face searing into his soul when she whispered, “I did what I was told.”
“Baby, you did what you were told. You called 911. You hid. You did the right thing.”
“I should have helped her.”
“You couldn’t have helped her.”
“She was shouting.”
Layne was moving closer but stopped when Rocky noticed it, took a huge step back and started visibly trembling.
“Baby, you couldn’t have helped her.”
“He hurt her before he shot her,” Rocky whispered.
Fuck, fuck, he knew that, he’d read the report. Carson Fisher had spent some time with Cecilia Merrick. Not much, he didn’t have it. But he needed the evidence that Cecilia had so he tried torturing her to get it, he did a messy job of it in his haste and the results were unpleasant.
Cecilia had lived through it though, and died when she took a bullet to the face.
Layne just didn’t know Rocky knew it.
Fuck.
“He hurt her and she was screaming.”
“Honey, come here.”
“I didn’t help, I hid, I hid and it was so dark.”
“Baby, please, come here.”
“The eaves,” she whispered, she was rocking her torso side to side, her arms sliding along her belly and holding tight, “Dad hated it when the birds got up there so he sealed it tight. I went out the little door to the eaves and it was so dark.”
“Rocky, please, baby, come here.”
“I went there, like a coward, and listened in the dark while she screamed.”
“Rocky –”
“All alone.”
“Rocky –”
“I left her all alone.”
“Roc –”
Her hands suddenly went straight down, balled into fists and she shrieked, “I left her all alone! He hurt her, I left her all alone! And she knew I could hear that! She died knowing I could hear that. She knew! My Momma. Sheknewsheknewsheknew.”
Layne moved forward fast, caught her in his arms but she struggled, yanked free and ran to the corner, pressing her side to it, she twisted to him, hand up, eyes on him.
“Don’t touch me,” she whispered and he watched her body tremble.
“Ma, call Doc,” Layne ordered, not taking his eyes off Rocky and Vera didn’t say a word but he knew she left the room, he saw Rocky’s eyes follow her. “Rocky, baby, you aren’t yourself,” he told her, moving again slowly and her eyes shot back to him. “This is called post-traumatic stress, honey. You aren’t yourself. This isn’t then, this is now, you’re safe.”
She shook her head. “No, no I’m not.”
“You’re safe, baby, nothing is ever gonna hurt you.”
“No, no, I’m not safe. You’re not safe.”
“I’m safe, Rocky.”
“No,” she kept shaking her head. “It isn’t right. It could have been right but it isn’t right now. Not now. It’s worse than before. A lot worse. We could have had time but I fucked up.”
“Honey –”
Her head still shaking she talked over him. “I can’t make you do that.”
She started sliding down the wall, her knees to her chest, her hand still lifted as if to fend him off.
“I can’t make you do that,” she repeated.
Layne crouched in front of her two feet away.
“Baby, can’t make me do what?” he whispered.
“Lose me,” she whispered back.
“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he told her.
“I’m going to die.”
Layne’s body froze.
Then he whispered, “What?”
“She was thirty-nine when she died. That’s next year for me, Layne.”