Endurance: A Salvation Society Novel

by Alexandra Silva

  “I don’t know where Mr. Henderson is. No matter how many times you ask me, my answer will be the same. He came to my office two weeks ago, and I did not speak to him, but I did watch him leave. Yes, he was in one physical piece,” he adds as Kayla opens her mouth to speak. “But Miss Sloane, I’ve been a doctor for over twenty-five years, and I can tell you that he was not altogether all right here,” he says, gesturing to his temple. “Apart from that, I can’t help you.”

  Tugging at the hem of her navy sweater, she looks up at me. “Avery…”

  Heavy tears roll down her cheeks, and stupidly, I pity her. For a moment, I see the girl that bawled her eyes out when her prom date ditched her last minute for the tipped prom queen. Her tears were so heavy that night that I canceled my own date so we could go together. Except she already had a backup plan, and I was the fool that ended up alone.

  And I won’t let her use me again. I should’ve learned my lesson that time and all the others where she dropped me for something better.

  “What, Kayla? We’re not friends anymore, and if you can’t help me, you are of no use to me.”

  Straightening, she glowers at me, icy stare daggering into mine with that tick of her jaw that tells me it’s taking every ounce of her energy to stop herself from falling apart. Just as I had to use mine that day she met me at the pool after my father died and she accused me of being paranoid over Carl’s cheating.

  “You know, Carl’s had a real tough time lately. He must be so stressed, and we both know how he likes to find new amusements to take his mind off things. Perhaps he’s grown as bored of you as he did of me?”

  “The bad guys are always closer to home than you know,” she spits, taking a step back after she pushes past me. “Robert had it coming, and I hope he’s burning in hell for all the lives he’s ruined.”

  If they didn’t confirm the fact that she’s out of her depth, the words would sting, but instead, they roll right off my back as I watch her walk away. I don’t care what she says, I know who my father was, and there is nothing anyone can say to change it.

  “What a bitch,” Charlie mutters as she turns her attention back to Dr. Haas, but before she says anything, he looks at Garrett.

  “You’re the heart specialist here, Dr. Dixon, but I can only think of one way a perfectly healthy man would drop dead of a heart attack.” Haas takes a step toward him. “There is nothing wrong with my records. Nothing more I can tell you or help you with. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Garrett steels beside me, some kind of cryptic understanding settling between them.

  “This whole situation is bananas,” Haas chuckles, but the sound is at odds with the grave look on his face, and when Garrett nods a somber thank-you, I know there’s something very wrong.

  The drive back to the Ericksons’ home is far quieter than I can bear. My heart is thumping in my chest, so hard that it’s making me feel dizzy as I try to make sense of Dr. Haas’s cryptic words.

  It’s not exactly the longest ride back to the house, but by the time we get there I’m past being on edge that when Dominic surprises us, I jump out of my skin.

  “Whoa there!” he laughs, hugging me. When I don’t hug him back, he pulls away to look me over. “What have I missed?”

  “More like what have we missed?” Charlie asks, grabbing Dominic by the arm and dragging him downstairs, toward the basement.

  “Oh shit.” Mark blows out a breath following behind them.

  It gives me a moment to get my head together before I find Garrett’s soft gaze. There’s a short beat of silence before he completely envelops me with his embrace. He holds me like glue keeping all my shattered pieces together even when the sob I’ve been holding on to pushes out of me.

  The pain that’s burning through me is excruciating, and I still have no idea what the outcome of the discussion with Haas was. I’m still as much in the dark now as I was this morning, except there’s no denying that there is more to my father’s death.

  It turns out that there are so many levels of pain, and this one is greater than any I’ve felt. Knowing that Dad was robbed of his time with us…it quite simply kills me.

  Without letting me go, Garrett walks us into one of the rooms off the entrance hall. It’s so quiet that in a way it’s eerie as he sits in one of Priscilla’s large armchairs, settling me in his lap.

  “Potassium poisoning,” he murmurs into my ear, whispering it like a dark secret that should never see the light of day. “That’s what he meant by bananas.”

  Having a reason should make me feel better. I’m certain that it should, except it doesn’t. If anything, it makes me hurt more. My stomach churns and my heart screams inside my chest, its cry thundering in my ears and through my scorching veins.

  “But he didn’t eat bananas. He hated the texture and—” My words are choked by the sob that swells in my throat. “And the smell. Dad hated the smell.”

  When I try to look up at him, he pulls me right into his chest, keeping me prisoner with one of his strong arms around my waist, while he cradles my head with his free hand.

  “You would have to eat something like four hundred bananas all at once to ingest just enough potassium to kill you. That’s four hundred bananas all at the same time.”

  “That’s impossible,” I cough, and the rawness of it ripping through my chest into my throat only makes me sob harder.

  “It is, sweetheart. That’s why you’d have to inject it.” The pieces of the conversation with Haas start to click together, but my brain is so sluggish that the picture only comes together when Garrett adds, “The reason the medical records aren’t wrong or missing information is that Robert didn’t have a vaccine. The needle bruising was where—”

  Pressing my hand to his mouth, I stop him from saying any more. It’s too painful. Finding out all of this is almost worse than that first second when I understood that Dad was gone. That it truly sunk in and I was alone. I can’t live through that again. It’s too much.

  The walls are closing in. The sound of my heart keeping me alive is almost a mockery. The air is too thick. The room is too hot.

  I need space, and yet I cannot pull myself away from him. I’ve never needed anything more than I need the shelter of his being right now.

  “It’s not okay, sunshine. But I’ll do anything you need to make it better. Whatever you want, Avery. You call the shots, remember?”

  “Just…don’t let go.”

  “Never.”

  True to his word, he doesn’t. Not even when it starts to get dark and the clock chimes that it’s time to get ready. Instead, he carries me up to the room Priscilla had made up for us. He sits me on the edge of the large tub and still holds me to him as he runs the bath. Even when he strips me of my clothes, he never removes his touch from me.

  As if I needed any more assurance, this moment is all I need to tell me that I’ll never be able to live without him.

  “We don’t have to go to this thing tomorrow,” Garrett murmurs as he gets in the tub and helps me in with him. “If you wanted to lie low or go home…they would understand.”

  “I know.” But I want to.

  I don’t verbalize that last part in case he asks me for an explanation. I’m not sure I understand it fully myself, and the last thing I want is to sound crazier than I already feel for thinking it. Logic isn’t exactly my forte right now, and although I know that, I can’t bring myself to stay away from that party. Someone there will know something. Hell, someone there may be responsible for all this. For murdering my dad. And I’m going to find out who and why. Why anyone would hurt one of the best people in this world.

  Our bath is the shortest in the history of baths, but it helps me gather my wits enough to mask all the chaos inside me before we head downstairs for dinner.

  The kids are all fed by the time we sit at the table, something I’m grateful for because I’m in a trance as I listen to the conversation as I dissect the lamb ragu and vegetables on my plate. Priscilla
is talking through tomorrow’s party with Charlie and telling her exactly what she expects from her. It’s somewhat of a welcomed distraction with Charlie’s dry remarks and the way she teases her mother.

  The evening goes by slow enough that I end up forcing Iris to bed as a way of excusing myself away for the night. I’m heading to bed when Priscilla finds me.

  “I wanted to check on you,” she says with her eyes raking up and down my person. “You barely touched your dinner, and you were quiet as a mouse.”

  “I’m tired is all.”

  “Well, you have a lot to process, and I can’t imagine being back here is easy.” She tucks one side of my hair behind my ear. “I imagine it must be strange staying here when…”

  She doesn’t finish, I think partly because she doesn’t want to vocalize my father’s absence and partly because she’s holding it together for me.

  “I keep waiting for him to knock on the door.”

  “Me too.”

  “It felt easier to push past the pain and missing him when I was in Virginia. There were no memories there. Not like here, and today at the club…”

  “I know it seems like a callous thing to say, but it does get easier. The memories and reminders become something that makes you smile rather than fall apart. It’s all about time.”

  “I know. I remember feeling like this when Mom died, and now, even when I miss her, I smile at all the memories I have of her. In a way we were lucky she was taken so quickly, and in some ways, I’m grateful that Dad passed so fast. Even if the circumstances were shady, it’s comforting to know that it was swift. The thought of him suffering…of him being in pain…”

  I stop when my gaze finds Garrett’s. He’s leaning against the corner of the wall by the top of the stairs. Concern is etched on his face as he watches us.

  “The only thing I need right now is to find out why he was killed, and I need to know who.”

  “And we will find out,” Priscilla tells me. “You know we won’t rest until we know what happened.”

  She strokes my cheek, adding, “You’re going to make it through this, and you’re going to have a beautiful life.”

  Garrett comes to a stop beside me and smiles, soft and warm, and all I want is for him to take me to bed and hold me all night.

  As if she can read my mind, Priscilla wishes us good night before heading back downstairs.

  “Take me to bed?” I glance up at Garrett, and hoisting me up his body, he opens the bedroom door.

  Taking me inside, he replies, “I thought you’d never ask.”

  The morning runs away with itself in a flurry of last-minute dashes. Priscilla has Mark running errands for her while she oversees the setup for tonight. While I’ve spent the morning with the kids, Charlie and Garrett spent the time trying to find a lead that would help us put all the pieces surrounding Dad’s death together.

  Of course, with the party set to start early evening, we had to drop everything to get ready. By the time I’ve finished blowing out my hair and setting it in rollers to get the glam curls I always opt for, Garrett is fully dressed in his tux.

  He looks something special in the fitted suit. The tailored cut accentuates his broad shoulders, defining the elongated V of his torso. With his dark blond hair combed over to one side and his stubble groomed to a shadow, he’s enough to make my ovaries explode.

  “I promised Iris we would finish reading her book before we left for the party,” he tells me with a crooked smile that draws out my own. “She was disappointed that I didn’t read to her last night, and I can’t have that, so…”

  There’s nothing about him I don’t love. My entire being worships every last echo and shadow of his. And I don’t know how I ever thought I loved anyone before him.

  “She adores you.”

  “I love her too,” he says with a boyish crinkle of his nose that makes me giggle even when I can’t seem to catch my breath as he comes closer. Hands anchoring around my towel-wrapped waist, he presses a tender kiss to each corner of my mouth before nipping at the fullest part of my lips. “But I adore you. Only ever you, sunshine.”

  “And I you, honey.” Molding my hands to his face, I rise onto my tiptoes so I can kiss his with all I have. I pour every last drop of my being into our savoring kiss.

  He is sweeter than sugar and better than caramel. He’s every last bit of the promise he made me on Duke’s boat.

  Peppering one more kiss on his lips, I lower back onto my heels, taking in the ruddy swelling of his pout that sheens with my balm. The sharp lines of his jaw soften with his dimpled smile.

  “You make my heart stutter,” I pant breathlessly. “And you give me all these butterflies that make me laugh even when I’m sad.”

  Nibbling on his lip, he drags in a long breath as he looks down between us and then flashes his all-consuming stare at me from beneath his dark golden lashes.

  “Even when I’m being crushed on the inside, you make me want to fight for forever.”

  A hand slowly rakes up my side as he watches me in silence. Our surroundings fade away as he holds my chin between his thumb and finger. The green of his eyes swirls with a clear ocean blue and sparks of warm amber, making my heart pound harder and harder as he simply looks down at me, admiring as though I am something to be awed by.

  “I told you, sweetheart…” he rasps, or maybe it’s more of a croak. His voice sounds so gravelly and deep, it vibrates all the way through me. “I promised you everything, and I meant it beyond forever.”

  There’s nothing more to say as the promise emblazons itself in every echelon of my being. Mind, body, soul, and everything in between and surrounding them.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  GARRETT

  “You’re sure that’s what he meant?” Mark asks as we share a drink in the basement.

  The kids are getting settled with the sitter now that Charlie has finished interrogating her and giving her all the strict instructions she needs to adhere to. She’s done it all in front of Cullen as well so that he can report back. That’s how cunning she is. Charlie knows that if the sitter steps outside the lines she’s drawn, he’ll be the first to let her know so he buys himself some lenience credit when it comes to his practical jokes and pranks. Clever on both of their parts.

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense. It’s the perfect murder. Potassium poisoning is virtually undetectable.” Rounding the far end of the room, I pace back toward where he’s setting up the pool table. “Since when do you play?”

  “It’s something to do. I like keeping my hands busy when I’m thinking.”

  “Yesterday, Kayla told Avery that they couldn’t talk at the club.” The woman’s name sours on my tongue. But that one comment is something that’s stuck with me along with Haas’s words. “She said, quote, ‘They’re always watching. Always.’”

  “So she knows more than she let on,” he muses, breaking the game. “You know what’s bothering me?”

  “What?” Pausing, I watch him circle the table and methodically pocket the balls in alternating colors.

  “The bad-guy comment.”

  “From all that Avery’s told me about Robert, he was a good guy. Sounded like a cheap shot to me. Given their history…”

  “I don’t think she meant it about Robert.”

  “The poison she followed it up with would suggest otherwise.”

  “Or perhaps she was defending herself and her boyfriend. Take yourself out of the situation, if you told someone that the bad guys are closer to home than you think, what would you mean? Especially if you’re being pegged as the bad egg.”

  Mark pockets a couple more balls, only leaving the black and white on the table as he puts the cue down along the long edge and braces himself over one of the short ones. When I look between him and the two remaining balls, he shrugs. “Charlie gets a kick out of shooting the last ball.”

  “How sweet,” I mock him, even though I’m sort of impressed he hands her a win. Mark has been beyond compe
titive all his life. Mom almost banned game night at one point when we were younger because of how intense shit got.

  “What would you mean?” He ignores my jibe, taking us back to the conversation at hand.

  “I’d be deflecting the blame.”

  “Exactly. She doesn’t believe that they’re the bad guys. Put it all together and I think there’s a bigger fish behind all this. They’re just scapegoats. It happens all the time. People make messes they can’t fix and then throw the blame onto small fry.”

  The logic doesn’t settle well. After all the shit Carl and Kayla have put Avery through…it almost felt good to crucify them. But the more I think about it, the more Mark’s deduction makes sense. “Or maybe she’s the small fry. Why else would he have left her? She thinks he’s disappeared, but he was in Virginia last we saw of him.”

  “And now he’s gone.”

  “We can hope,” I bite out.

  Ignoring me, Mark states, “We need to figure out who the fuck the big fish is.”

  “We need the list.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And then what? I keep going over all this in my head, trying to figure out what this will mean. Truth, justice…none of that will matter when Avery realizes how awful Robert’s death was.”

  Since I overheard her conversation with Priscilla last night, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The tormented look on her face and the sorrow in her voice. Now all I can imagine is how she would look if she found out the real circumstances around his passing.

  “It’s a fact of the situation. You can’t change it. Nothing can.”

  “She’ll have to live with that for the rest of her life, and I can’t let that happen.”

  “But if Avery wants the truth…”

  “She thinks she wants it, Mark, but…” He’s looking at me as though I’m teeing up to drown his kittens. The reality is that he doesn’t understand how the detail would decimate her.