When It Rains... He Pours

by Leah Holt

  “That's great!” My mother's eyes lit bright as she smiled. “Isn't that great, honey?”

  Nodding, I laid my hands on my lap and forced a smile. “It's really great.”

  “Well, an x-ray tech will be up in a bit to bring you down and I'll come tell you what we see after I get the results.” Walking to the door, he patted my mother on the back and gave her a comforting smile.

  “Doctor,” I said, forcing him to stop from going out the door. Twisting to look at me, he waited for me to speak. “Have you heard from Liam?”

  “I'm sorry, Glory, I can't disclose patient information.”

  “No, I know, and I understand that. It's just, I haven't seen him since Tuesday, it's been three days. I was just wondering if you'd seen him or heard from him. I'm getting worried that he hasn't come back to see me since he left.”

  Pursing his lips, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I haven't seen him, but if I do, I'll tell him to come pay you a visit.” Holding out his hand, his lids opened wider. “But I'm not getting my hopes up that I'll hear from him sooner rather than later. You might have a better chance of getting in touch with him before I do.”

  Smiling with closed lips, I nodded.

  I didn't like his answer, I didn't like that Liam wasn't answering his phone, I didn't like that I hadn't heard from him in days. There was a pit in my stomach, churning and tumbling around.

  Something is wrong.

  “Are you alright?” my mom asked, walking to the edge of the bed and reaching for my hand. “I brought you lunch, are you hungry?”

  “No, thank you though.” Hanging my head, I stared down at my fingers.

  “What is it? Is it that guy that's bothering you?”

  “I'm just worried about him. He went through the same thing I did, he should be here, not out there. I don't like it, it's not sitting right.”

  Rubbing the top of my hand, my mother angled her head. “Honey, I'm sure he's fine.”

  “I'm worried, Mom,” I said, tugging the blanket up higher.

  My mother looked at me, her eyes reading my body language. “You like him.”

  “He saved me.”

  “He must be a pretty special guy to save some girl he doesn't know.”

  Flicking my eyes up to hers, I said as sly as I could. “We're not exactly strangers, but yeah, he is pretty special. Which is why I'm getting worried that I haven't heard from him.”

  Smirking, my mother leaned over and pushed the flowers on my nightstand to the side. Setting down a few magazines and a container of her famous homemade mac and cheese, she let out a sigh.

  “What?” I asked, locking my eyes on her face. “What was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “That sound, what was it for?”

  Frowning, she shrugged her shoulder. “I don't know what you're talking about, I didn't make a sound.”

  “Yes you did, you made that sound you always make when you have something else you want to say.”

  “Glory, that's not true.” Clasping her hands together, she folded them in her lap and put on her innocent face. “I just think you should focus on getting better so you can come home and not focus on some guy who obviously isn't worried enough about you to be here.”

  And there it is.

  “Mom—”

  Cutting me off, she held up her hand. “I'm just saying, that's all. You can do whatever you want, you're a grown woman.”

  “I knew it.”

  “Knew what?” she asked, defensively furrowing her brows as if she didn't know what the hell I meant.

  She knew, but she liked to play stupid sometimes when you caught her in the middle of one of her tricks. My mother was trying to manipulate me. Maybe she was just being protective, that motherly love shining down because no one would ever be good enough for her daughter. Or maybe she was trying to save me from getting hurt, the fear of watching her daughter get her heart broken.

  My mother's heart had been torn to pieces since my father died, I couldn't blame her for wanting to protect me from that pain.

  “I knew you had more to say.”

  “Glory, you have to look at it from my point of view. I haven't had my daughter for a long time, I tried to give you space, I let you do what you needed to so you could find some sort of peace. But I won't do that again, I can't. I lost your father and the thought of losing you too is too much to bear. If this guy cared, he'd be here, just like I'm here.”

  Shutting my eyes, I laid my head back. “He does care about me, he ran into a burning building to save me.” Picking up my head, I stared at my mother. “Something isn't right, I can feel it.”

  Fixing the edge of the blanket, my mother tucked it under my thighs. “Right now you need to work on getting better, you can't worry about him. You'll be out of here soon, then you can figure out what's going on with that guy.” Leaning in, she kissed the top of my head. “Just promise me that you won't let it stress you out, can you do that for me? Please?”

  “Alright, I won't.”

  Smiling, she gripped my hand and squeezed it hard. “Thank you. Now get some rest, I'll come back this afternoon. If you need anything just give me a call.”

  “Okay, I will. Thanks, Mom.”

  My mother's lips folded into a thin smile as she stood up and pulled her purse up her arm. “You have no idea how happy I am that you're alright, Glory. It's something you'll never understand until you have a child of your own.” Closing the door behind her, I was left in this uncomfortable silence.

  I wanted to stop thinking about Liam, but I couldn't. I wanted to think that he had just gotten busy with work stuff and I'd hear from him at any moment.

  But deep down I knew it was something else.

  After everything we had been through, there was no way in hell he would just leave me like this.

  Where are you?

  I need you. . .

  Snuggling into the blankets, I peered out the big window beside the bed. My head was spinning with thoughts, horrible thoughts about what had happened to him.

  When he left he had a gleam in his eye that screamed destruction.

  He was going to find Jacob. . .

  I just hoped Jacob hadn't found him first.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Glory

  Opening the door, I dropped my bag on the floor and walked around the room. It was surreal, like I had stepped through a portal that brought me back almost a decade.

  Running my fingers across the porcelain dolls on the shelf by my dresser, I couldn't believe that my mother hadn't changed a thing.

  The same floral bed spread was on the mattress, a small cluster of stuffed animals were positioned on the pillow. All the ribbons and trophies I had won during softball and gymnastics were sitting in the same spots I had put them back when I was kid.

  It's like a damn time capsule. She didn't get rid of anything.

  After getting discharged from the hospital, my mother convinced me to come stay with her for a little bit until I was completely healed and everything got situated. I wasn't sure exactly where my life was going at that point, so I hesitantly agreed.

  There was a time where I thought I had it all figured out, and until recently, I had somehow pulled the wool over my own eyes and actually thought I did. But the world had other plans for me, awful plans that left me questioning where the hell this road was taking me.

  I was left hanging in limbo, waiting on everyone else to tell me what to do next. There were no answers, there was no giant arrow showing me where to go. I had never felt so lost before.

  What are you supposed to do when the world you knew was suddenly tossed upside down?

  What the hell am I doing?

  Picking up a stuffed penguin off the pillow, I held it in my hands and stared into its lifeless glass eyes. I could see my reflection in its gaze, and I couldn't help but notice that my eyes looked just like the penguin's.

  There was nothing there, no emotions, no feeling, no life. . .

 
Who am I without my art?

  “You getting settled in?” My mom popped her head in the doorway and leaned against the frame.

  “Yeah, it's kinda weird though.” Dropping the penguin back onto the bed, I twisted to look at her.

  She looked so tired, weathered in a way that made me sad for her. We had become the same person in so many ways. We had lost control of our lives, both of us walking this road to nowhere with no idea how to get off.

  The lines on her face had thickened overnight, thick creases worked their way across her forehead, the crows feet at the corners of her eyes had turned to talons. She spoke with a voice that didn't sound like the woman I grew up with.

  Her tone was always flat, lacking depth and emotion, as if she was hanging on by a thread and waiting for it finally break.

  And I guess, for the first time ever, I understood her. I could see the suffering and confusion that plagued her every day.

  I had spent so much time dwelling on my own feelings that I never stopped and thought about what she was going through.

  My heart ached to tell her how sorry I was for being distant. If I was hurting this much inside not knowing where Liam was or if he was ever coming back to me, what was the weight she had carry for my father?

  I loved him, and the fact that he was gone, it killed me. If I hurt that much for a man I had just begun to love, I couldn't even imagine the pain she truly felt and dealt with everyday since my father had left us.

  “Well, things are different now, it's never going to feel the same.” Her eyes filled with distant tears as she looked around my room. “Nothing in the house will ever feel the same.”

  “I'm sorry, Mom.”

  “Sorry?” she asked, her brows angling down. “Sorry for what?”

  “I'm sorry I left you when you needed me most, I'm sorry I wasn't here for you to cry with when Dad passed and that I've been gone for so long.”

  “You haven't been gone, Honey, you've just been dealing with it the way you needed to.”

  “No, I was gone, and I shouldn't have been. I should have been here for you, I haven't been a good daughter.”

  “Don't say that.” Blinking her eyes, the tears trickled slowly down her cheeks as she stepped into the room and pulled me in for hug. “You are an amazing daughter, but it's not your responsibility to help me. I'm your mother, and if you needed the space to deal with all this, I was alright with that.”

  Tucking my face into her shoulder, I cried. I cried tears that I refused to let out when my father passed, I cried for the fire that almost killed me, I cried for everything I had lost. I cried for the fear of not knowing what our future held and if we'd ever get out of this rock bottom that had suffocated our lives.

  And as the tears swept over my face, my mother hugged me tightly. She held me just the same as if I was five years old. She hugged me exactly like I needed my mother to hug me.

  Taking a step back, she turned away from me. Sniffling, she wiped her cheeks, but didn't look back at me again. “I'm going to go start dinner, how does pot roast sound?”

  “Good, it's sound good, Mom.”

  Nodding her head, she waved her hand up by her face and headed downstairs. Plopping down on my bed, the mattress squeaked with rickety springs. Taking in a deep breath, my chest twisted with a sharp pain, making me cough.

  I was still hurting, but all in all, I was lucky.

  There were a few burns on my arms and calves, my lungs were scorched from smoke inhalation, but someone was watching out for me from above. . . Because I was still alive.

  Grabbing my phone, I sent Liam another text.

  'I don't know where the hell you are, but please just call me.'

  Hitting send, I dragged my feet back and forth across the carpet. It didn't feel right just sitting there and doing nothing.

  My mother didn't want me to go by the building, she thought it would be too much for me to handle in my fragile state. And maybe she was right. But I wasn't going to stop seeking answers and justice for what had been done to Liam and I.

  Too much shit had gone down for me to turn my head and walk away from it. I was done pretending that things would magically get better on their own, I was done waiting on other people to come to my rescue.

  Jacob had done this and he needed to pay for it. I was going to make sure he got exactly what he deserved.

  I can't just sit here, I need to stand up for myself and do something about this.

  I knew what I had to do. There was no pause in my thoughts about where I needed to go to fix this.

  Grabbing my bag, I slipped downstairs, and sneaked past my mother as she skirted around the kitchen preparing dinner. It surprised me that I could still remember where the floor boards were that creaked and cracked if you stepped on them.

  I feel like a damn teenager again.

  Speed walking up the street, I pulled out my phone and called a taxi. Waiting around the corner, I sat on the curb and watched the cars pass until a silver sedan slowed to a stop in the beak-down lane.

  “Take me to the police department.”

  * * * * *

  Leaning against the front desk, I waited for the woman to lift her head and look up at me. “I need to talk to Detective Glenn.”

  “Alright. . .” she said, placing her pen down and cupping her hands. “And who are you?”

  “Glory Daniels.”

  “Well Ms. Daniels, Detective Glenn isn't available at the moment, do you want to set up an appointment?”

  Angling my head, I did my best to keep my composure and not get too snippy with her. “No, I want to see him today, I want to speak to him right now. This can't wait, it's important.”

  “I'm sorry, he's not—”

  Holding up my hand, I cut her off. “Look, I've been through a lot of shit, and I'm not leaving until I speak with him. My place was broken into, it was set on fire, and I know who did it. So if you could just get on your phone and tell him I'm here, I'd appreciate it.”

  “Ms. Daniels,” the woman said, but a figure caught my eye in the background, drawing my eyes to it.

  Holding my breath, I felt my veins ignite as my heart sped up and a cold sweat began to trickle down the back of my neck. Jacob Barnes was shaking hands with a man in a suit. He didn't notice me standing there as he smiled and nodded, slapping the man's shoulder and heading for an exit against the back wall.

  “That's him,” I said under my breath, whispering the words to the secretary.

  “What? Who's him?”

  “The man that just left, he was talking to that officer back there.” Pointing through the glass window, she turned and followed my finger. “Is that Detective Glenn?”

  “It is, but you need an appointment, I can help you with that. Let's—”

  “Detective Glenn!” I called out, waving my arm and ignoring the woman. “Detective Glenn!”

  His head snapped in my direction, eyes squinting to study my face. Standing in his doorway, he tilted his head and gave me a wary smile.

  “I need to speak with you!” Yelling through the bullet proof window, I pressed my palm into the glass. “Please, Detective Glenn, I need to talk with you!”

  Tucking a folder under his arm, he walked forward. The secretary stood up from her chair, leaning over the back side of her desk and whispering something into his ear.

  “Glory Daniels, I'm Glory Daniels.”

  As if a light went on in his head, he nodded and waved me inside. The secretary gave me a look, she wasn't happy that I refused the rules and went to him myself.

  But this had to happen now, it couldn't wait. I wasn't going to stand idly by and let Jacob steamroll over me. His threats weren't just words, they were actions he followed through on. He needed to be stopped before he killed someone.

  The door buzzed and I was able to pull it open. Detective Glenn greeted me on the other side, holding out his hand for me shake.

  “Ms. Daniels, I'm happy to see you're recovering so well.” Giving me a smile, he fanned o
ut his arm. “Let's go talk in my office, I have some really good news for you.”

  “News?”

  Thinning his smile, he nodded his head. “I was giving you some time to settle after getting released from the hospital, but I was planning on calling you in a day or so. This way, follow me.”

  Walking beside the detective, he guided me into his office and pulled out the chair at the front of his desk. Sitting down, I placed my bag in my lap and laid my hands on top.

  “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, water?”

  “No, I'm all set, thank you.”

  Clearing his throat, he laid the folder he had been holding down and steepeled his fingers as his eyes connected with mine. “So, I won't draw this out.” His smile thickened, pulling up high towards his eyes. “We know who destroyed your building and set it on fire.”

  “You do?” I asked, confusion layering my tone.

  I couldn't understand how he could know when I watched the person who had done it walk free from the station.

  Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Jacob was just using it to try and scare me into selling.

  “We do.”

  “Well, who is it?”

  Holding up a single finger, he sucked in a quick gulp of air. “Before we do that, I want to show you a set of photos. Tell me if you recognize anyone.” Opening the folder, he pulled out a sheet of paper and slipped it across his desk. “Take your time.”

  Scanning the images, I looked over each and every one carefully. I didn't know any of the men he was showing me. Reaching the last picture, I leaned in closer.

  “This guy looks familiar. He could be the one who broke in, his eyes stand out.”

  “That is Clayton Dyer, and yes, he's the one we think broke in to your gallery.” Handing me a pen, he tapped the lineup image. “Can you circle his image and initial it for me, please.”

  Following his instruction, I laid the pen down. “How do you know it was him?”

  “We got a very reliable witness.” Taking out a second set of pictures, he pulled the first one away and placed the other down. “Can you do the same for me here, tel me if you recognize anyone.”

  Looking over the images, I studied each face hard. Coming to the second to last in the first row, my hear stopped as my tongue swelled in my mouth.