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The Billionaire's Marriage: A Romance Novel

Page 25

by Marshall, Marnie


  "Edward?"

  I don't hear. Or I choose not to.

  "Edward, they found her shoes!"

  My feet stop moving. My mother's fingers gently clamp down on my arm. "They were by the water, Edward… they're going to bring in a marine unit…"

  No, no, no... My heart stutters. There has to be an explanation. "Taylor!"

  "Right behind you, Sir."

  "Edward?"

  "Dr. Trevelyan, I'll stay with him."

  I throw the back door aside and it shudders… the same door Krissy slipped out, not two hours ago. God, Krissy, where are you?

  My fear turns to unbridled fury, it's the only emotion I have to stay focused. Wrenching my jacket from my arms, I set off at a run. The tall meadow grass drags on my legs; I make a mental note to have it mown down and ripped out. And the scattering of beach rocks as well…

  "Sir! We'll have to ask you to return to the house, this is potentially a crime scene."

  I'm momentarily struck furious by the uniforms on my beach. No one gives me orders. "This is my fucking house, and my wife we're looking for," I bark. "Why the hell aren't you looking for her?"

  "Sir, we can't discuss our investigation at this time. Please return to the…"

  "Enough! What aren't you telling me?"

  "Sir, if you'll allow me," Taylor pants next to me. "Gentlemen, Mr. King is understandably upset. If there's anything you've found that might help us find his wife, it would be beneficial for you to tell us. We're in no way attempting to interrupt your work, but you understand that time is of the essence."

  I marvel for a split second at Jason Taylor's calm, and then my fury sets to boiling again.

  The two officers look at each other. "Our findings are inconclusive. There's one set of tracks spanning the beach. She could have gone either way, or into the water."

  "Thank you," Taylor urges me to follow. "Sir?"

  My feet involuntarily break into a run, and I'm easily outpacing my right-hand. Seattle's finest… no better than inspector gadget. "What if she did go into the water, what if someone dragged her?"

  "Sir, she was chasing the puppies. It's doubtful they would have cleared those pilings, it's more likely they were chasing something and headed into the woods, which is exactly what we should do."

  I hadn't realized I'd voiced that thought out loud, but for a fleeting moment I'm grateful for the man's intuition. "Krissy!" I call out, again and again. I can't see far ahead, and a light comes on to my right. Taylor apparently had the sense to pick up a flashlight. He hands it to me, mid stride.

  I bear left at the fork, taking the route I normally run, on autopilot. It's increasingly difficult to squash the waves of panic. She has to be out here, simply lost and trying to find the puppies. Someone will find her and call us. She'll be safe at home soon. I'll tell her I love her, and then I'll never let her out of my sight again, as long as I live.

  "Krissy!"

  "Mrs. King!"

  Bobbing lights appear ahead, another search party. Good, someone has brains enough to have covered some ground. I race past.

  "Edward?"

  Dad?

  I skid in the mulch, glad I had the sense to don athletic shoes on the flight, and Taylor nearly knocks me down. "Anything?"

  "Not yet, Son. We're about to head off the trail. What part will you cover?"

  "How far up the main trail has anyone gone?"

  "We haven't seen anyone yet," Elliot tells me. "Other teams went to check the north trail."

  "I'll take this trail to the end and start back through the woods." My feet are already in motion. "Call me the minute you hear anything!"

  "Stay together, we don't want to lose you as well!" Dad booms.

  I mapped the trails here, in preparation for timing my runs… there are fourteen loops on the south side of the property, and six on the north. Some eventually run onto the grounds of the adjacent estates. I have to hope that Krissy may have found her way to one of them, though they're so far… but if she had, she would have phoned… No. you can't get into worst-case-scenarios, King. You need to function. I wrack my photographic memory for the paths I mapped, interested for the first time in what lies beyond them, how far they are from one another, and what barriers I, or she, could encounter. I've never had to think of things like this before, and I'm desperately sorry that I didn't spend any time at all on these details.

  My voice is raw from calling her name. We've neared another search pair, and later another, and another… I hope to God they're not re-covering the same ground. I don't stop to ask. The doom level within me rises sharply every minute, despite my efforts to quash it. There are at least a hundred acres out here, for Christ's sake. My heart has been thudding horribly since the flight, and hasn't stopped. Overexertion is of the least concern… I couldn't stop my feet moving forward if I tried, even if I have a coronary. Why hasn't anyone called? Why haven't they found her? Or seen either of the dogs? Unless she has them… yes, what if she's picked them up and cut through a yard and been walking home by the road? She would have stopped at one of the homes and called, wouldn't she? My heart stutters, making me momentarily lightheaded, as my stomach sours… of course she wouldn't… my Krissy has the worst self-preservation skills on Earth. I swear, I'll log this entire forest and pave it over, environmentalists be damned.

  My face contacts with the ground.

  "Sir!"

  Gasping mouthfuls of leaves and dirt…

  "Mr. King, stop!"

  Arms… my arms are stuck…

  "Red, Sir! Red!"

  What? No… I feel my autopilot shut off, like a switch, the current dies and I can see, sort of… light, wobbling over me.

  "Mr. King, talk to me."

  "Jason…"

  "Yes, Sir. We need to stop. It's after two, Sir. We need to go back, get some water and clean you up. You're bleeding."

  "I'm…" Yes, my head hurts. My fingers feel… they're smeared with red… red, Red… "No, I have to… have to find…"

  "Sir, please, we'll keep looking, I promise, but we're no good to her like this." His hand is out, toward me.

  "Jason? Where's my Krissy?"

  "We'll find her. I promise you." He hauls me up, grasping my arm, my body twitching with anxiety at his touch, and pulls me to stumble forward again.

  It's so dark…

  "Oh my God, what happened to him?"

  Mother… I can't…

  "Ran into a low branch, Ma'am. Any word?"

  Hands on me, push me down. Head hurts… I know that scent…

  "Not yet… Carrick is working with the police…"

  Stop it, that burns…

  "Edward, hold still, I need to clean it…"

  "I'm going to check in with my team and head out again, can you keep him here?"

  No… I have to go back… she's there…

  "I'll try… Edward, stop! Mia!"

  "What, did they… oh my, what happened?"

  "Get my bag from the car, the red one, Mia. Edward!"

  Red, red… red…

  "Edward Trevelyan-King, you stay awake, do you hear me?"

  "Krissy… where's my Krissy…"

  "Oh darling," arms come around me. "They'll bring her back to you. They're trying so hard."

  I… hear… despair…

  3:23… a palindrome. It's shiny, and red… red… Red… my head itches. The microwave opens, closes… steam, tea… in my hands, sip. Count, blink, sip. 4:04… another palindrome. Breathe. Sip. Cold. Blink.

  "Edward? How are you feeling, dear?"

  4:46. What?

  The mug falls from my hands, clattering to the ground. There's something covering me, a blanket… I throw it off. "It's almost five?" I rasp. My voice… what happened to my voice? Everything clears suddenly, like a breath after suffocation, and my heart plummets. "Where is she?"

  "Oh darling, they haven't found her yet…" my mother's eyes are rimmed in red.

  Red.

  "How did I miss so much time?" I demand.
My feet try to propel me forward, but I stumble, and my knees make contact with the hardwood floor.

  "Edward, easy…" her hands are on me again. "You've had a concussion, Jason brought you home and went back out to look for Krissy. You haven't said a word in hours."

  My heart is breaking. "I can't lose her, Mom… she's sick, what if she's hurt, or cold…"

  "Darling, everyone is doing their best," her voice breaks. She kneels beside me and I'm swept into her arms; she rocks me.

  "I have to…"

  "You're in no shape to go out there, Edward. I can't lose you too."

  But you will, if anything has happened to her. And the creeping worst thoughts trickle in, like a rising tide over a flat beach. Drowning… her body washes up miles down shore… Exposure… anything out there can hurt her, my little, fragile Krissy… a wild animal, she could have fallen… what do I tell my son in a few hours when he wants his mommy…

  A ringing. Garbled chatter, and another ringing, different, but just as insistent. The hiss of a radio.

  The irritating buzzing of my Blackberry.

  Realization dawns. Oh God, I have to answer it. Please, dear Lord, don't let her be dead. I'll do anything. My hands are quaking as I yank the device from my pocket. I drop it. My mother picks it up and hits the speakerphone.

  "Sir, we've found her. She's alive. I'm sending you coordinates."

  My heart stops.

  "Oh…" my mother cries. I'm on my feet in an instant and stumble out the door, my suddenly still fingers hitting buttons, pulling up the GPS, my knees screaming.

  "Edward! They found her!" My brother is jogging toward me. He's covered in grime, I can't imagine why I notice. He sets off beside me.

  "Taylor sent coordinates. Where is she?" I rasp.

  "They found her near a fallen tree. She got stuck. Puppies are there too, amazingly."

  "Is she all right?"

  "I don't know. It's almost a half-mile off the trail. Dad's with her. He just called me, said to find you and bring you."

  My heart is trilling again, this time, with hope. I get another chance. I don't care if she never remembers us, what we had; she gets another chance to know me. We get another chance. Elliot's holding onto me, keeping me upright and moving; I can't grasp my weakness. We cut right at the end of one path; there's a fluorescent mark on a tree, lit up by his flashlight. I don't remember ever seeing it before; I must not have been anywhere near her, I realize, and my gut twists with guilt. My self-loathing is short lived as we spot a team ahead, wearing reflective jumpsuits and carrying a backboard. Paramedics. We fly past, and beyond, a fluttering of lights, like fireflies, spark in the early dawn.

  She's there... my Krissy is there!

  "Krissy!" I cry out, and the lights point at me, blinding me… I break from Elliot's hold and barrel forward, my lungs screaming. I'd give all my air for her, and more. Charging through a tangle of enormous roots, I come to a stop. An officer holds two bundles, the puppies, I think… they're unrecognizable. My father is there, and Taylor… their backs are to me.

  Krissy…

  My father turns. Krissy is in his arms. "Edward…"

  "Oh my God…" I'm thrown forward. She's not moving… "Krissy?"

  "Hmm…"

  My heart constricts. She's so pale. Her eyes flutter, lips are a light purple. My father is clutching her to him, rocking her. Jason vigorously rubs warmth into her legs. Oh God… there are streaks of blood at her chest and down one leg…

  "Christ, Krissy!" My hands move to her face.

  "May we take a look?" The paramedics have caught up, their question likely out of protocol as they don't wait for a response, pushing us aside. My father releases her to them, but I resist… I have to stay with her, she needs me.

  "Please, Sir, we need to work."

  "No! She's my wife!"

  "Edward, please," my father chokes, his arms surrounding me, hauling me away, and I fight him but for the first time since I was a child, he's stronger than I am. My head spins, and I watch, helpless, their hands on her, instruments checking her. One covers her with a metallic sheet. Their voices are low.

  "We need to move her now," one of them announces. Move her? They position the backboard and roll her onto it, tucking the sheet around her and securing her with straps, then lift her. Jason instructs them to follow him, flashlight in hand but hardly necessary in the early dawn light. Dad has brought my arm about his neck and curls his around my back; I haven't the proper strength to resist, and I don't give a damn, all I need to do is to stay upright and follow, to stay with her.

  "Is she going to be all right, Dad?" I don't recognize my voice.

  "I hope so. I think we got to her in time. She was very cold."

  "There was blood… she's hurt…"

  "Everything possible will be done for her, son. I promise you."

  "Did she wake?"

  "For only a moment, as your man Taylor lifted her out of that damned hole. She called your name, son."

  They carry her swiftly, carefully, following Jason's lead, around the side of the house, through an access gate in our privacy wall. More strobes, they hurt my eyes… an ambulance waits in the drive.

  "I want to go with her…" I mumble, my voice weaker now.

  "Cary!" My mother bursts from the side door. "You and Elliot drive Edward, I'll go with Krissy. Keep him awake!" She climbs into the back, I see Krissy's feet for only a second and they close the doors. They're taking her.

  "I'll drive you. Your car is blocked." Jason jogs past, and I lurch forward to follow as my legs give out. Dad holds me back from a much nastier impact with the ground. My world is unraveling.

  "On your feet, bro." Elliot… he's here. Perhaps he was here all the time, I don't remember… where's Ryan? Where's my wife? I want my family… I'm being shoved into the back of a car, and slammed against the seat as it takes off. Where are we going? Someone holds me upright, belts me in, I feel trapped. I want my Krissy. Someone's touching me. Stop it… no, no…

  ~oOo~

  Throbbing. Incessant and all-consuming, my brain is on fire. I must escape… wakefulness evades me, my eyes are unresponsive. So are my hands, my mouth… everything. A cloud of murmuring envelops me, changing, growing. Voices.

  "Oh my baby boy…"

  "Calm down, Gracie. His doctor said he'll be fine, he just needs rest. How's our girl?"

  Yes, Krissy… where's Krissy, is she all right? There are fingers at my forehead… my mother's… they brush away the pain, dull it slightly. "She's doing better. That fever may have saved her life, but the ordeal has lowered her immunity considerably. She's on a strong antibiotic among other things, though the gash on her leg was fairly superficial. We'll have a clearer picture when she wakes up."

  "She had those puppies bundled in her robe, Grace. She was keeping them safe. I think I have a new understanding of Edward's gripe about Krissy's lack of self-preservation. That precious girl martyrs herself at every turn."

  Finally, they see…

  "She has so much love inside her. Our boy couldn't have been more fortunate than to stumble across her." Warm lips press against my cheek.

  "I think she stumbled into him, is the story, my dear."

  "So it is. I should get back, sit with Krissy a while."

  Don't go… I want to… I need my Krissy…

  ~oOo~

  The haze surrounds me, tempts the unconsciousness to return, and I resist. My eyelids won't obey. There's an undercurrent not unlike adrenaline coursing through me, zapping my extremities, but contrarily refuses to bring life to my body. The mumbling grows louder.

  "We're going to move Mr. King to his wife's suite, sir. Dr. Trevelyan's orders. Please follow us."

  Move? To Krissy?

  The support beneath me wavers, and I feel the sensation of momentum through my toes, working its way up. My head lolls to the side, bringing on a fresh wave of pain and nausea. I fight the urge with the will of semi-consciousness, fearing the result of regurgitation during
what I perceive is sleep paralysis. As a child, I would often almost wake from a nightmare but be pulled under again, unable to wake myself forcibly as one of my many shrinks had taught me. It was unbearably frightening. This is different; the nightmare is real. My Krissy… she must get well. They're taking me to her… I'll be with you soon, baby…

  ~oOo~

  Less pain, more stiffness… my body doesn't want to move; my arms and legs are solid iron. My hand, though… there's something in it, a warmth… it pulses with a light, tingling spark. I know that feeling…

  Krissy…

  My voice… I can't rouse it, can't bring forth the tiniest sound.

  She's holding my hand. Is she awake? She's not moving. Is she all right? She's warm, I know nothing else. She's here, beside me. I feel her. I will her to know how much I love her, that I'd do anything to take her pain, to take her sickness upon myself, that I'd die for her.

  My breathing is so loud, it lulls me. Unconsciousness drags me under.

  ~oOo~

  I'm exceptionally warm.

  My eyelids finally obey, peeling back slowly. I wince at the brightness of my surroundings. It becomes bearable, though the ache in my head returns, and everything appears enveloped in a quivering haze. I find myself in a large hospital suite, not unlike the one in which Krissy spent a month not long ago. I test my fingers and toes, and they obey fairly well, though weakly, then my arms… one side is pinned, heavily. Funny, I don't remember injuring it. I roll my head to the left.

  Krissy is curled into my side. She's very warm, pinning my arm under her, her own draped across my belly, an intravenous tube taped to her hand. Her breaths practically steam against my chest.

  "Oh, Krissy…" My arms shift and pull her to me; her heat is radiant, but I don't care. She's here, alive, when things could have ended so much worse. What's more, she's turned to me, whether consciously or in her sleep, it makes no difference… she wants to be near me, on some level. Am I forgiven? At this very moment, I don't mind if she doesn't yet… I need her in my arms, safe, warm, and secure. I could spend an eternity in this moment.

  I'm distracted by the opening of the suite door. My mother peers in. I sigh with relief, gently waving her over, careful not to disturb my wife.

  "Oh Edward, thank Heaven," she whispers, hands immediately going to my forehead and wrist, ever the physician.

 

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