How many more people want to hurt her because of the sins of my father? Because of my sins against them? I need to know who took my mother from me. Yet, that need is costing lives. Chad’s . . . and nearly my Firefly’s.
It seems the universe is conspiring against us. From her parents to her recovery, she has a mountain to climb. I’ll be there to boost her, catch her, or break her fall. I’ll do anything to help her. I’ll do anything to protect her.
I feel the twist in my gut. O’Hare had to die. I won’t spare any minutes whiling away the time over his death; I won’t forget or regret the feel of the metal in my hand, the recoil when the bullet left the chamber, or the look on his face when his sentence was served.
I’ll never forget the blood . . . so much blood surrounded my innocent girl. Sara Jane was so much smaller than I remembered, her presence always taking up so much space in my life. I preferred that. I prefer to hold her at the forefront of my mind instead of tucking the feelings of broken emotions back into some cobwebbed compartment deep in my heart.
A nurse comes in, the one I recognize from the night I brought Sara Jane in. She whispers, “You should go home and get some rest. We’ll take good of her.”
“There’s no rest for the wicked.”
“You’re going to need your strength, just like she does.” She takes Sara Jane’s wrist and carefully checks the IV. Her gaze darts my way. “The police are back. They’re in the waiting room.” She’s caught my attention. “If you just happen to go to the cafeteria for coffee, there’s a side door just behind the register. It’s unlocked during cafeteria hours.” Checking her watch, she smiles. “They close in five minutes.”
“I’ll have to face them again sometime.”
“Maybe with a clear, rested mind, it might make things easier.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I’m a sucker for a love story.”
“Is that what this is?”
She smiles, clicks a button on the bed, and resets the call button. “She may not remember how you saved her, how you carried her in here, but it’s a sight I’ll never forget. Only true love can reach the depths of a tortured soul.”
She has me figured out. The risks didn’t matter. Only Sara Jane. The nurse saw right through me, watched the darkness fill her halls searching for the healing light for the only one I would sacrifice myself to help.
Tapping her watch, she adds, “Three minutes.”
Standing, I kiss Sara Jane’s nose, and then ask, “Down the hall to the left?”
“And down one flight of stairs. Two minutes.”
I go because she’s right. I’m exhausted, and if I’m going to be taken in for an interrogation, I need to get some sleep so I’m on top of my game. Sara Jane is healing and safe for now.
Dashing down the hall, I take a right and push through a closed door to the stairwell. I grab the railing and swing my legs over, skipping a half flight. With my phone pulled from my pocket, I call Cruise. As soon as he answers, I say, “Pick me up out back ASAP.”
“I’ll be there.”
My hands slam against the push bar and the door opens. I make a run to the cafeteria just as they are closing the doors. “We’re closing, sir.”
“Just passing through.” I maneuver around the little lady in a hairnet and find freedom just outside the side door. Leaning against the brick wall, I try to catch my breath. The car zooms around the corner like he robbed a bank and I roll my eyes. “Jesus, Cruise. The whole point was to not draw attention to my whereabouts.” I’m in and buckled within seconds, and we leave the parking lot through the doctors’ exit.
He laughs. “But what’s the fun in that?” I shake my head, and he asks, “What’s up, King?”
“I hear the cops are looking for me.”
“So you’re on the lam?”
Doing a double take, I ask, “What the fuck does that even mean?”
“I don’t know. They say it in the movies.”
Exhaling loudly, I run my hand through my hair. I need a haircut, but I might let it keep growing just to piss off the suits that remain in Kingwood Enterprises. “They want to talk, but I need to call my lawyer first.”
Under his breath, he groans, “Shit.” Veering into a neighborhood, I recognize the route he’s taking. Is this what I need to do to avoid the cops? Back roads and roundabout routes to the manor?
“Where’s Jason?”
“Last I heard, he had your bike down at some shop on the east side.”
“What’s he doing with it?”
Cruise glances, shrugs, and then looks back to the road. “He said they can fix it and keep it off the grid of major shops. People get wind of the damage and they’ll start snooping around.”
“When did we start talking like gangsters?”
“When you shot a man.”
Killed. Not shot. When I killed a man. There’s no comeback for his comment. He’s right. It was coming—we were changing. There was no going back, and I don’t want to now that Sara Jane and Chad have been dragged into it. I know the attack is related. Everyone involved will pay. I owe it to Sara Jane and to Shelly. A pang of pain stabs my chest thinking about our friend. “Where’s Shelly?”
“At her folks’.”
“Sara Jane needs her. It’s been three days, and she’s not been up to see her.”
“She lost Chad, man.”
I know. “Sara Jane’s parents are assholes, and she needs her best friend.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing. I’ll call her.”
*
Two hours passed and the police haven’t turned up at the manor. My lawyer is on standby. I’m clean, needing the shower after spending so much time at the hospital. I plan to go back soon, but I need a break from the sadness and sickness that hangs heavy in the air there. My sweet girl deserves so much better. I’m bringing her home tomorrow. She needs fresh air and sunshine. She needs the best care, and now that she’s out of the ICU, I can give that to her.
I’m pulling on a pair of jeans I grabbed from a shelf in the closet when my phone buzzes with a text: Ms. Delano has arrived.
I reply back to Neely, the only staff member I feel comfortable around these days: I’ll meet her in the living room. Grabbing a white T-shirt, I pull it over my head and finish getting dressed so I can head to the hospital after this quick visit.
When I close the door to my bedroom, April’s opens. I’m still not used to seeing her here, to seeing anyone in the manor other than staff, much less someone just a few doors down and across the hall from mine.
Her smile is timid, our relationship built beyond acquaintances but not quite familiar yet. She says, “Hello.”
“Hi.” I stop, keeping my distance, not sure what to say. We’ve done this dance every other day or so for the last two weeks. “How are you today?”
“I’m okay.”