He hasn’t called me that in forever. It used to be his nickname for me when I was Iris’s age and completely obsessed with the Care Bears.
“I know you think you’re doing these things yourself, but…”
“Stop,” I tell him before he says anything bad about Garrett. I can sense that he’s about to. “Garrett is a good man, and if Dad were here, he would love him.”
“But he isn’t because he didn’t listen to me!”
“If you knew all this, why…how could you keep it from me? He was my dad.”
“He fucked with people he shouldn’t have fucked with, and you’re lucky I’ve protected you. So do as you’re told and just fucking—”
Before he can finish, I end the call. I don’t have it in me to listen to his tirade. I feel bad enough as it is for going back on my word to Garrett. There’s a sinking feeling in my chest that’s making me feel sick. It’s only made worse when I start the car up again, heading toward the aquarium, only to realize as the Suburban starts following me again that I didn’t even tell him the agents were back.
When I park at the aquarium, I’m feeling guilty enough that my insides are a nauseated, knotted chaos that I can’t think through to get my head in order for my meeting. It doesn’t matter how many deep breaths I take, I feel as though I’ve betrayed Garrett’s trust.
Before I make my way inside, I decide to try his cell again. It goes straight to voicemail, which is odd. Even when he’s with patients, his phone is never off, and it was on charge this morning. The worst pops into my head after what Mike said, and although I never call the clinic, I dial the number saved on my phone.
Tessa, the receptionist, answers and when I tell her it’s me, she goes off on a tangent. Her nephew is in Iris’s class, and apparently he is super excited for their trip this afternoon.
“Well, let’s hope this weather holds up,” she sings. “Anyway, what can I help you with?”
“Is Dr. Dixon available?”
There’s a baited moment of silence before she tells me, “Umm…he’s not here this morning. He called in earlier to push back his appointments this morning.”
Surprise hits me square in the chest followed by confusion and then embarrassment. It’s not the first time I’ve been in this situation, and that thought starts a completely different tangent of its own that I can’t quite quell even though I try to ignore it.
“Oh, of course.” I try to laugh so that it doesn’t come across as awkward or false. “I’m sorry, I would forget my head if it wasn’t stuck on.”
“Same,” Tessa replies, sounding amused, and at least that helps settle my chagrin and worry a little. “I’ll let him know you called and make sure he returns your call.”
“Thanks.”
“Bye now!”
Hanging up, I consider trying his cell again but decide against it.
Garrett isn’t Carl. It’s all I keep telling myself as the doubt creeps in, even though I’m fully aware there’s no reason for it. Garrett has been nothing but gracious, kind, and loving…devoted even.
Garrett is nothing like Carl. He isn’t.
Still, I can’t shake off the niggle that follows me into my meeting. Unlike usual, I leave my phone on the table beside me as I take my potential new boss through the project breakdown I’ve put together. Every time I get a notification, I can’t help but peer down at it.
There’s nothing, and the longer there’s nothing, the more the niggle grows and grows. Like poison spreading through my veins. There’s nothing I can do to stop it either, because that’s the thing about the past—you can walk, run, or drive away from it, as far as you possibly can, but you’ll never outrun it. Its ghosts will always find you.
Chapter Thirty-Five
GARRETT
The clinic is quiet, and with no more appointments for today, there’s only one person I want to see right now. Two actually. My girls. Avery must have her hands full because the calls I’ve returned have gone unanswered and the texts also. It’s not like her, but today is an epic day for her. I can’t help but feel proud of her for muddling through the mess and not only staying on her feet but continuing to move forward.
She’s stronger than she thinks and more so than anyone might ever know.
Pulling my jacket on, I grab the file Mark gave me this morning. Things aren’t exactly looking great with all the shit Charlie managed to dig up on the people on the drive. It’s safe to say that she’s called in all her favors at one time. Without her and Mark’s help, along with Jackson looking into the nephrologist’s history in California, we would never have been able to make sense of any of it.
“Dr. Dixon?” Tessa calls me back as I dial Avery again on my way out. When I look back at her, she’s got that expression on her face that tells me she’s done something wrong. “I’m so sorry…”
“What’s happened?”
“I was meant to let you know to call Avery when you arrived. She called this morning and…” Sucking in a breath with a grimace, she slumps, leaning forward with her elbows on her desk. “I didn’t realize she didn’t know you weren’t here. I’m so sorry.”
Something about her trepidation has my chest tightening more than it already is with the deluge of information from this morning. “No worries, I already called Avery back…”
But now, I’m wondering if there’s more to the fact she hasn’t answered or replied to my texts. I’m out of the door, heading for the truck, when I spot the Suburban, but it’s a different number plate to the one the agents were driving the times they were here or outside the house in DC. With the blacked-out windows rolled up, I can’t see them, but I have that odd sensation of being watched all too closely which only makes me get in the truck as fast as I can.
I’m pulling my phone out again when Mark’s name and his middle finger flash up at me. I should’ve known better than to leave my phone on his desk when I used the restroom earlier.
“Fuck you too,” I answer the call, waiting for the booming laugh that never comes. “Mark?”
“Where are you?” he asks, sounding more serious than ever.
“Leaving the clinic. I’m heading to the beach to meet Avery. She hasn’t answered my calls or texts today.”
“Charlie’s not picking up her phone either. I’ve just left the office. Ben is at the ranch, and Gretchen is trying find out more, but we just got ear that Carl has expired.”
“Is that why I’m being followed?” I turn down the short stretch to the beachfront and park at the rockier end of the shore, right outside the surf shop Iris and I got her suit and board from. It’s closed, leaving this part of the beach pretty much abandoned. There’s no one around, which makes it easy to find the group of kids making their way up the shore to the school bus waiting for them. Avery is following behind them with Charlie trailing her.
The Jag is a couple of cars ahead, and a little farther down the strip, there’s another Suburban. The tightening feeling in my chest constricts all the way through me. I’m out of the truck before Mark tells me, “Shit, stay in the truck.”
“What’s going on?”
“In the truck!” he yells back at me at the same time as the bus leaves.
Mark starts talking at a thousand miles an hour, all in code that takes me far too long to decipher as Avery spots me and starts toward me. A somber look twists her features before she smiles, and there’s a short second where the heaviness lightens and the tightness eases.
The smallest blip in the shrouding doom.
Avery’s nothing but a couple of long strides away when Charlie yells her name, and as I glance toward her, the world comes crashing down. I see the gun aimed at her, and for a small fraction of a second everything slows down. My feet can’t move fast enough. My arms don’t reach. My hands can’t clutch hard enough.
Fuck.
I wrap and spin before the silence is split through with a bang that ricochets with the burst of heat in my chest, pushing the breath from me. And then it’s silent again.
Frozen. Quiet. Bleary.
Serenity.
Everything feels so warm. So perfect. Like coming home. For that one single breath that lingers between us.
It takes me back to that first time I kissed her beneath the sparkling sun with hooves pounding in the distance.
Thud. Thud. Thud, thud, thud…
Her body pressed to mine. Hands clinging to me. Eyes wide and mouth gaping in that inviting way that’s impossible to resist.
Thud, thud, thud-thud-thud…
“Garrett…” Tears drown her eyes, making the whites pink and the green scorch so deep, I feel it twist viciously in my chest. “Ohmygod.” A tear falls. “Ohgod.” Her beautiful voice breaks. “Ohmy-my…no. No-no-no.”
Another tear rolls down her cheek.
“Doc,” she whispers, and I don’t know which of us is falling.
I’m trying to catch her, but it’s like water trickling through my fingers. Impossible to grasp. To hold.
She’s slipping from my hands, and I don’t know how to hang on to her. My body refuses to listen to my head as my knees hit the ground. Tears blink from wide, panicked eyes punctuated by shot after shot after shot. And I know something is wrong.
It’s not just a needling prick in my chest. It’s a burning, corroding ache that makes it impossible to breathe. No matter how hard I try to gasp and drag air into my lungs, they’re congealed. Hardened concrete that refuses to give. Holding me down. Pulling me down, lower and lower, until I’m drowning.
Cough upon cough of metal-tinged fluid bubbles up my throat as my body collapses uselessly to the ground, leaving nothing but thoughts and the need to say all the little things that I never got to say. I’m never going to get to say.
“Sunsh—”
“Shhh…” Fuzzy hands grasp my face as she chants, “Help is coming. Help is coming. It’s coming…”
All I can do is stare and nod while I swallow the blood that collects at the back of my throat.
This is it.
After all this time. All these years.
I found her.
I love her.
I have to let her go.
Chapter Thirty-Six
AVERY
Blood. So much blood. Pasted. Dried. Dark.
“So much blood,” I whisper, pulling my hands out of Jo’s grasp as she tries to clean it off my hands with a wipe.
“Oh, sugar.” She pulls me into her again, trying to pet my head onto her shoulder.
But I can’t see the clock like that, and I need to see it. Every second that ticks by. Every minute that elapses to the next hour. The white walls blur as I stare. Counting every jitter of the never-stopping clock hand even when Mark stands in front of me. I picture the clock behind his hulking frame.
Tick-tick-tick-tick…
“I’m sorry,” he sighs, crouching in front of me.
I’ve always seen the similarities, but it’s only now that I realize how identical they are. Green eyes filled with sadness and regret bore into mine. Bright. Relucent. So samey and yet so different where they lack the blue ocean marled through the vivid verdure.
Still, fresh tears form, collecting on the brim of my lashes before they roll hot and heavy down my cheeks, stinging every pore they seep into, scorching every inch of skin they sluice down.
“I just needed space. I needed…I…” Bite-cracked lips purse.
“It’s okay,” I tell him with the numbness in my chest prickling through me. “I know. It should’ve been me, not him.”
I can’t even bring myself to say his name. The mere thought of it lodges in my throat like the blood gargling and spitting from his mouth.
So much blood.
“No. No, that’s not what I meant.” Mark takes my hand and with a deep breath tells me, “I needed space to save him. I had to save him, Mermaid.”
“It should’ve been me.”
“Doc clearly disagreed. I disagree.” He cracks a small grin that doesn’t quite reflect in his eyes as usual. When he opens his mouth to speak again, Charlie walks into the waiting room with a small cardboard tray of coffees.
One of the surgeons walks in behind her in his scrubs. The squeak of his rubber shoes makes my insides twist.
Whatever he was about to say is forgotten as Mark stands to his feet, reaching for Charlie. He pulls her into him, hugging her like you would a comfort blanket when the surgeon looks around the room. I keep looking for any sign of Garrett’s blood on his scrubs, but there isn’t a single drop. Not even on his shoes.
I don’t understand. How can there be no blood on him when I am covered in it? My clothes. My skin. My hair. It’s under my nails and dried into my sense of smell. I swear I can taste it too when I inhale deeply. The metallic tang curdles through my insides.
“Good news.” The older man smiles, pulling his scrub cap off. “We were able to take the least intrusive route. We’ve located and retrieved the bullet, and we’re working on repairing the lung.”
“There. You see?” Jo pats my lap. “I told you all that he would be fine. He has a lot to stick around for.”
Although the surgeon doesn’t outright contradict her statement, he tells us all with that cordial tone doctors like to use when it could go one of two ways, “The next twenty-four hours are vital.”
“Doc will push through.” Jo nudges me.
“Dr. Dixon has done swell so far. He’s in good health, and God be willing, we should be done soon enough. We are currently giving him a transfusion to help with blood loss, and as procedure we like to encourage family to donate, especially with the rare blood types.”
“Of course.” Charlie nods. “Thank you for filling us in.”
“How much longer do you think the surgery will run?” Mark finally speaks. I’m glad one of us has the composure to do so.
“Depends on how quickly we can stop the bleed.”
“And he’s going to be all right? No permanent damage?”
Taking a step back, the surgeon shrugs noncommittedly. “It’s impossible to be sure how the patient will recoup with any trauma, but like I said, Dr. Dixon is in good health. Everything is in perfect working order, so it looks good for him.”
Before he can be asked any more questions, the surgeon excuses himself, leaving us to wait some more. I’m slipping back into my trance when Charlie offers me a cup of coffee.
“Priscilla is on her way, and until she gets here, Gretch has the girls. It’ll help keep them from asking questions if they’re distracted.” I nod, and she hugs me to her side. “You might not want to talk about it right now, but it’s important that you know this isn’t your fault.”
“Why do you all keep telling me that? Kayla wanted to hurt me? It was me she wanted to kill, not—”
“And Garrett saved you, so…” At her words my numb heart chooses this moment to start feeling again. Pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt suffocates me. “She got what she deserved.”
“Because she’s dead?” I scoff. “That’s not what she deserved. He could’ve died. He could still—”
“But he won’t,” Mark states firmly from the doorway.
“What about next time? Kayla’s out of the picture but…but Carl and…and…”
“Avery.” Charlie blows out a breath, looking up at Mark, and just as he’s about to say something, one of the FBI agents walks in the room.
I’ve never felt so angry as I do right now. Months, in fact years, of pent-up frustrations, disappointments, and swallowing down my feelings for the sake of keeping the surface of the water calm while I’m drowning underneath, all boil down to this moment where after spending the last however many months thinking life couldn’t get much worse than waiting and waiting for the day I could put my past behind me, it’s not just worse, it’s come to a screeching halt around me.
I can’t breathe for fear that my next lungful of air could be the last I share with the one person who has loved me without asking for anything in return. My heart is beating while his might stop
at any given second.
Tick, tick, tick…
It’s all I hear as the pushier agent enters the room. They’re staring at me, standing there with piteous looks on their faces.
“I saw you,” I say as the short and mean one opens his mouth. “You were following me. All day. All fucking day you’ve stalked me, and you did nothing!”
God, I’m so damn mad that I can barely hear myself over my pounding pulse. It’s roaring in my ears as my words rip my throat raw.
“You could’ve stopped her!” My yell echoes around us, and I can’t bear to listen to the sound of my own voice.
There has to be something I can do apart from sit here waiting. It’s all I’ve done this entire time. Wait. Have patience. Smile through it. Have faith.
I’m done.
One step after another, I walk past the agents, pulling my hand free of Charlie’s grasp when she tries to pull me back. The walls are closing in, and I won’t let them crush me. I can’t and I won’t.
“Mrs. Henderson,” one of the feds calls after me, and when I spin to look at them, my vision frays red at the edges.
“Stop calling me that!” I scream loud enough that a nurse stops to look in. “I don’t know anything. I don’t know what you want. I don’t know what happened. And I don’t care!”
Turning, I leave the room, ignoring all the voices calling me back. The numbness and anger slowly ebb into loneliness with every step I take toward the elevator. I’m hollow as I get in and press the button to the phlebotomy floor followed by the one to close the doors in front of me as Mark heads straight for me. At a glance, it could be Garrett. A very quick glance. If I didn’t know the way Garrett moves with long strides and an awing ease that’s so entrancing, I might have to do a double take.
The doors close before Mark reaches me, and I stumble back with relief. Maybe he doesn’t blame me, but I can’t bear the worry and pain in his eyes. He’s hurting because of this mess my father left behind. The problem I brought to their doorstep. The doors open, and instead of getting out, I ride all the way down to the lobby.
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