Players, Bumps and Cocktail Sausages (Silence #3)

The thought of someone hurting my innocent baby ripped me apart. It flitted through my mind constantly. I pictured the same scenario, with Oakley, then Everleigh, then Sophia. Then I saw Sophia crying, wailing. And then Oakley’s silent scream.

Rubbing my forehead, I tried to concentrate on the road while the images I couldn’t shake from my mind threatened to pull me under. My chest felt tight, and I worried I was on the edge of a mental breakdown. No, I’m the strong one.

I pulled into Oakley’s drive just as the ache in my chest started to make me want to hurl. Before I’d got out of the car the front door opened and Oakley wrapped her cardigan around her, waiting for me.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“I can’t stay with them,” I said, walking past her into the house.

“You mean you’re not allowed to stay at the hospital or Holly said no?”

“Hospital,” I replied.

I was going out of my mind. They were there alone.

“Holly is exhausted and in pain from the stitches. Anything could happen, Oakley.”

I gripped my hair as I felt fear consuming me. My lungs tightened to the point where I gasped for breath.

They’re alone. Anyone could hurt them.

“Jasper, calm down. Breathe!” Oakley said, rushing to my aid. But she was too late; I slumped to the floor as my legs gave out. What if someone was hurting Sophia?

Oakley dropped to the floor, and I gripped her. She was so young and so innocent. How could they have done that to her?

“I can’t…” Breathe.

I could see Oakley age five, scared, hurt, crying. And then Sophia was in her place.

“Jasper!”

Oakley’s voice floated away. I gasped for breath, but no air passed to my lungs and I descended into darkness.

I came round to my sister slapping my cheek.

“Jesus you scared me!” she hissed, wiping her damp eyes.

Groaning, I sat up and clutched my head.

“I swear if you don’t get help, Jasper-”

“Alright, alright,” I said, cutting her off. “I get it. I’ll make another appointment with Carol.” I’d had a couple but clearly I needed more because something in my head wasn’t working properly, and I needed her to fix it.

“Are you okay? Can you stand?”

“Yeah, stop fussing.” I pushed myself to my feet, and she rose too, holding her hands out, ready to catch me. I’d squash her if I passed out again. I made sure I was steady so I wouldn’t risk hurting her or my unborn niece or nephew.

“Stop fussing? You just had a panic attack and fainted!”

“Passed out,” I corrected, holding my finger up. Much more macho.

She pursed her lips. “Talk to me.”

“I’m not there,” I said. “What if something happens and I’m not there to protect them?”

She smiled sadly, her eyes filling with tears.

“I was so scared when Everleigh was born. I panicked, thinking if I wasn’t with her something would happen. Well, you know I did. No one is going to hurt them.”

“What if they do? What if something does happen and I didn’t do anything to stop it?”

“Stop! Calm down, you’re going to have another panic attack. Sit.”

She pointed to the kitchen table. “I’ll make you some tea then we’re going to talk.”

“I don’t want tea, I want to be at the hospital.”

She flicked the kettle on and spun around.

“You can’t be there 24/7. I know what it feels like, I never wanted to let Everleigh out of my sight. I still don’t, if I’m honest. But it’s not realistic. You can’t always be there. The nurses and midwives are there to help and protect them.”

A burst of laughter left my lungs.

“Yeah, so was he. I just don’t understand why and how he let it happen.”

I hadn’t expected that to come out.

“Not everyone is Dad. I know what it’s like to focus only on the negative, but most people out there are good.”

“So you’re okay now?”

She tilted her head to the side.

“Jasper, you, Mum and Jenna have Everleigh when I work because I can’t let her go to nursery. I’m starting to talk to Carol about school a whole year in advance because I’m so scared of her being somewhere alone. I’ll never be over it, but you have to let go a little.”

I rubbed my hands over my face.

“What do I do?”

“Don’t freak, but I think you should go and see him.”

I froze. Had she lost her fucking mind?

“Hear me out, and stop looking at me like I’m crazy.

“Then stop talking crazy,” I said.

“You said yourself you don’t understand it. Not that I think you ever really will. But I think you need a conversation with him. You never got that.”

“I don’t want it. I can’t sit there and ask him why he did what he did to you.”

“Good, because this isn’t about me. You need to ask him why he did it to you.”

I frowned. “He didn’t do anything to me.”

“That’s crap, and you know it.”

Natasha Preston's books