Tell Me No Lies

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Tell Me No Lies Page 22

by Branton, Rachel


  I knelt beside Gage, feeling for a pulse. Relief spread through me as I detected a steady beating. He was alive—for now. But the bullet had hit him in the upper chest, and he was losing blood fast.

  I glanced behind me at Bailey, who hovered uncertainly over her brother’s body. “Help me!” I shouted. “He’s bleeding. I need your help!”

  Bailey took a step toward me, her face frozen as she stared at Gage. Only one step, and she stopped, her face a mask of indecision. Then she turned and grabbed her brother’s arm, dragging him out of the little bedroom and past me to the outside door.

  I wasn’t surprised. Not really. She’d chosen her brother once before, and nothing had changed in all these years. She loved Gage, but she cared more for Charlie—and herself. Maybe she was hoping we’d all die in the fire and her secret would remain safe.

  Bailey stumbled at the door and fell. Coughing, she wrenched it open and reached for Charlie again.

  “Gage!” I yelled in his face. “I need you! Wake up!” No reply. I slapped his face hard with my good right hand. Once. Twice. His arm came up to stop the third blow. He tried to speak, but I talked over him, yelling to be heard over the greedy fire. “We need to get you outside.”

  He shook his head. “Dylan.”

  “I’ll come back for him as soon as you’re out.”

  “We’ll get him together.”

  The whole ceiling was aflame. There wasn’t time to argue. “Where would he go?”

  “Kitchen. He always hides in the kitchen when we play inside.”

  I prayed he was right. I helped him to a crouch as best I could. He was a big man, but I had no idea he was so heavy. We stumbled together toward the open kitchen door. Several times I didn’t think either of us would make it. We should have crawled, but I couldn’t have helped him then. I dared a look behind me and saw that Bailey had succeeded in getting outside. The oxygen from the open door only fueled the fire more. It was too much to hope that she’d come back to help me with Gage.

  Once in the kitchen, Gage shut the door behind us and immediately the roar of the fire dimmed, but I knew it was only an illusion of safety. Smoke still poured around the door, and the air was so hot that sweat dripped from our bodies. “To the floor,” I said, dropping flat. Gage followed my example, grimacing at the pain.

  The kitchen was brighter than the bedroom had been before the fire, illuminated by the moonlight streaming through an intact, unboarded window. Unlike the rest of the house, it seemed to have much of its original furniture and other contents. Dishes and pans sat in piles along the short countertop and had obviously been used without washing. More transients, I supposed. The table was metal with a Formica top and matching chairs. Ugly and out-of-date, but sturdy and unbroken. Cupboards and closets filled the better part of two walls. I crawled toward them. Gage started for the other side, but he was moving slowly.

  “Dylan!” I called. “Come out now.”

  “Dylan!” Gage echoed. “I’m here.”

  He wasn’t in any of the closets, cupboards, or under the sink, and a feeling of horror crept into my mind. If I hadn’t sent him away to hide, he would have been safe with us now.

  “Look for something you’d never guess was big enough.” Gage had slumped up against a cupboard, apparently unable to move. He looked terrible and sounded even worse. “Something that couldn’t possibly hold his size. He’s good at pulling stuff over him. Lying down. Making himself small.”

  Impossible. The only thing in any of the cupboards besides loose trash was a wooden box that I was sure had once held potatoes because it resembled a box my grandmother had used. A burlap bag lined the bottom. Surely there hadn’t been enough room inside to hide even a tiny little boy.

  I back-tracked toward the pantry where I’d seen the box, tears running down my face. “Dylan,” I shouted. “It’s okay, you can come out now. Please.”

  I reached the pantry and shook my head at the box in the corner, which stood about eighteen inches tall. No way. Too small. I felt the burlap anyway, finding the box inside was far shallower than its sides indicated. Beneath the burlap was hard wood, not a soft body, and I cried out with disappointment. Behind me, I heard Gage coughing.

  Would there still be enough time to go upstairs to search for Dylan? Was anything even there? Bailey had referred to it as a glorified loft.

  A pinpoint of light came from the bottom of the box through the hard surface under the burlap. My imagination? I grabbed at the box and pulled. It resisted slightly, and then Dylan was blinking at me from the space under the box, holding his flashlight to his chest. At once I understood. Small holes had been drilled in the bottom to allow the air to circulate under the potatoes to keep them fresher. Dylan had turned the box over to have enough space to squeeze into, and what I’d thought was the inside was actually the underside.

  The frightened look on his face subsided when he saw me. “It’s okay,” I said, gathering him into my arms. “Your uncle’s here, and we’re safe.”

  “Did you call for me?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I thought Bailey was trying to trick me. Or my mind was doing the tricks.” He hiccupped the last words.

  I wiped his tears with my undamaged hand. “You’re just fine. But your uncle’s hurt, and I need your help to get him outside. There’s a fire. That’s why there’s all this smoke.”

  “We have to crawl,” he said. “And get out quick. They said that in school.”

  “They’re right.” I’d been edging out of the panty as we talked and at that moment, Dylan saw Gage. Forgetting everything he’d been taught in school, the little boy flew through the smoky air toward Gage. I followed as fast as I could.

  “A good hiding place, huh?” Gage said.

  Dylan nodded. “Tessa’s as good as you are at finding. Maybe better.”

  “Go open that back door over there, okay?” Gage said. “Crawl.”

  Dylan scrabbled across the floor like a crab, coughing now. I reached Gage and nudged him. “Ow,” he said.

  “Get going.”

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re bossy?” He started the painful journey across the peeling linoleum floor.

  “My sister.”

  How such a tiny kitchen could have such a long floor was beyond my understanding. It was like some kind of optical illusion. I crawled one-handed, dragging my hurt leg behind me, goading Gage on with my head or shoulder or whatever was available. Dylan waited at the door, urging us to hurry with encouragement and coughs. We fell on top of him as we rolled out of the house and as far away as we could from the fire, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  “Better call an ambulance.” Gage lay on his back, pressing his hand to his wound.

  “She took my phone.”

  “Mine’s in my pocket.”

  I reached into his back pocket, wanting more than anything to run my hands over him to make sure he had no other serious wounds. The way he and Ridge had gone at each other, he might have internal bleeding as well as the chest wound from the gunshot.

  “Here, take this. “ Dylan stripped off his shirt and pressed it to his uncle’s chest.

  Gage smiled. “Thanks. Keep pushing on it hard while Tessa calls, okay?” He looked at me. “What about Bailey?”

  “I cut her loose. She got out. Charlie, too.”

  “Good.”

  I wondered how he’d feel if he knew she’d chosen her brother over him—again. Did forgiving her mean he still loved her? Now that he’d been cleared of the death, the only thing standing between Gage and Bailey was her past.

  And me.

  I made the call to 911 and returned Gage’s phone to his pocket, shrinking a little at the intimacy of it all. I wasn’t his wife, and yet I felt like I was.

  “Tessa.” Gage was staring at me.

  “What?” I knelt by him and used my good hand to take over from Dylan, my cut wrist pressed once more against my stomach. Gage winced as I pushed on his chest. Blood had soaked Dylan’s shirt, but
I thought the flow was easing. I hoped that was because of the pressure and not because he’d lost too much blood.

  Dylan turned Charlie’s flashlight onto the dirt. “Hey, there’s bugs out here.” He moved away, following something only he could see.

  Gage pulled me down to the weed-stubbled ground next to him, and my hand slipped from Dylan’s shirt.

  “Stop,” I ordered, replacing my hand. “We need to keep pressure on your wound.”

  His grip didn’t ease. “The last thing you said to me in Mia’s kitchen was that I’d never find you. Thinking you went to your sister’s was bad enough, but after seeing the blood at Bailey’s, those words kept playing over and over in my head until I thought I’d go crazy. I knew I’d been the stupidest man alive.”

  The stars overhead seemed to reverse their course. “What do you mean?”

  His face was tight with the pain of his wound, and something else as well. “I mean that I’ve loved you for a very long time, even when all you could think of was him. Even when I knew there was no possibility of a future or of you looking at me like a man wants to be looked at by a woman.”

  “You love me?” I felt a little giddy, but that could have been because the stars were dancing above us.

  He pulled me closer. “Remember what I said about finding someone someday? Well, it was me all along, and I knew it. I love your laugh, the softness of your skin, the shape of all those freckles, the way your hair turns gold in the sunlight.”

  Orange, he meant, of course, but I wouldn’t correct him now.

  “I don’t care who your parents are, or that you’re a grumpy monster in the mornings, or that you cheat at cards.” Between the words he gently pulled me down to kiss my cheeks, my nose, my chin, my eyes. “I love the way you love Serenity and take care of your sister. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.” He buried his face in my neck, and I could feel the heat of his breath against my skin as he added, “More than anything, I wish that wedding had been real.”

  “We can remedy that,” I murmured. “The first chance we get. We still have the dress.” And the silly little ring, which I would never throw away no matter how many diamonds he might buy me to replace it.

  “Good.” He was breathing heavily at the effort he’d expended, so I leaned over him and pressed my cheek against his, urging him to be still. His hand caressed my neck. Despite the uncomfortable ground and the ache of my own cuts, his touch was all I could think about for a long while.

  Take that, Bailey.

  Sirens cut through the night, and several feel away, Dylan jumped up from the ground. “They’re coming! They’re coming! I’ll go out front and wait for them.”

  “No, stay here.” I didn’t know if Bailey and Charlie were out front or if they might hurt him. “I told them where to find us.”

  Minutes later, two ambulances, a fire truck, and a half-dozen police cars arrived. Soon, they were bandaging Gage and giving him blood right there in the dirt and weeds.

  “Was there anyone else out front?” I asked.

  “No,” said the female EMT.

  “How many cars? Two or three?”

  “Two.”

  I looked at Gage. “They got away. After all they did.”

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I meant what I said when I forgave Bailey. Everything I endured, those six long years—they mean nothing now. They brought me you.”

  That made my eyes sting with tears, but I was worried about expunging Gage’s record. Without Bailey and Charlie’s testimony, would there be enough to clear him?

  The EMT touched my shoulder. “If it helps, I heard the police say they pulled over a car a few minutes from here. Driving erratically. The man and woman inside smelled like smoke from a fire. They’re holding them for questioning.”

  I sighed with relief. Bailey might not talk right away, but Charlie would.

  “If you’ll come with me,” the EMT said, “I’d like to look at that wrist before we take you both to the hospital.”

  “Don’t forget her leg,” Gage grunted.

  He was stable enough, but I was afraid to take my eyes off him. I leaned over and kissed him. “I love you,” I whispered. “I wish I’d known that last Thanksgiving.” Known how I’d feel about him, what we’d mean to each other. Known to look past the exterior mask he’d shown to the world.

  “No looking back.” His thumb traced my bottom lip. “Only forward.”

  I nodded and thumped him on the arm. “Okay. But for the record, I do not cheat at cards.” I waited several heartbeats to add, “Much.”

  He laughed. “You’re still bleeding. Go with the nice lady and get patched up. Please.”

  Because he asked so nicely, I went.

  EPILOGUE

  I’d thought the day would never come, and I’d wondered a million times if waiting so long had been a mistake.

  On the night we escaped the burning house, I’d wanted to marry Gage for real right away, but reality soon set in. I needed to be sure our feelings didn’t stem from the passion of the moment. Okay, I wanted to make sure his feelings didn’t stem from the moment, because I knew my feelings were real.

  Gage wasn’t worried about that so much as making sure the world knew of his innocence. He didn’t want people pointing fingers at me behind my back every time we visited his sister in Kingman. He didn’t want Aiden to be teased. I couldn’t blame him for that.

  There were other reasons for the delay—Lily wanted to have her baby so she could dance at my wedding, I decided to go back to school to study psychology, and my parents wanted . . . well, I wasn’t sure what they wanted. I didn’t ask. I told them I loved Gage and if they wanted to be a part of my life, they’d have to accept my choice. I tried not to be disappointed when they kept their distance, rejecting Gage and all the notoriety, despite the fact that I’d saved their business. Despite the fact that he’d never hurt anyone.

  Maybe it was all those wedding gifts my mother had to return.

  When our story hit the newspapers, it was big in Arizona, especially in Kingman, but it wasn’t until Gage appeared on a national talk show that people in Kingman began stopping him on the street or in the stores to say they’d known that he was innocent all along.

  Right.

  Gage hated the attention, but he did it for me and his family. Our future family. I hoped the ladies I’d met in the Las Vegas restaurant learned about his false conviction and spread the word. The whole country would know within weeks.

  The television appearance also had a huge effect on my parents. My mother backtracked graciously, inviting five hundred of her dearest friends to my wedding reception. Since my father had to foot the dinner bill for all their attendees, I knew his business was doing well.

  Dylan was the kid of the hour. For weeks the students crowded around him at school asking for details of his capture and his uncle’s miraculous rescue. With each telling, his story grew a bit more wild, though none of us objected. Besides, I liked the new version of my involvement, how I grappled hand-to-hand with Bailey to free us from her evil clutches and then walked through a wall of fire. Gage, of course, fought both Charlie and Ridge—at the same time, wounded, with one arm, in the dark. He was the true hero in Aiden’s eyes, exactly the way he should be.

  Charlie pleaded guilty and was sentenced to three years in prison. Bailey’s case was still pending, but the prosecutor was sure she’d be put away at least ten years. It was less, perhaps, than she deserved, but when I testified against her, she didn’t look up from the table where she was sitting, and I felt nothing for her but pity. She was all alone, while I had Gage.

  In Flagstaff, I’d been staying with Sadie, who was still my best friend. Taking advantage of my sudden jump to fame, she found me a job as a receptionist for a local psychologist. When I wasn’t at school or work, I was with Gage or Serenity. Weekends we spent with either Lily in Phoenix or with Mia and Aiden in Kingman.

  Finally the end o
f April arrived, seven months after our near fiery death. School was over for the semester, and I was getting married.

  “Does it look okay?” I asked Lily, staring into the mirror at the church. Sadie and Lily had swept my hair up on my head, copying the style from the photographs we’d taken in Las Vegas.

  “Gorgeous.” Lily hugged me. “Beautiful. He won’t be able to take his eyes off you. I can’t take my eyes off you!”

  My mother walked into the room. I turned toward her, the hard little ball of nervousness in my stomach doubling in that instant. Then I saw baby Dillon in her arms, and the incongruity of my elegant mother cradling him dissolved the nervousness and made me want to laugh. Her navy dress was glittering and expensive, and Lily’s two-month old son hadn’t spit up on her yet, but he was bound to before the hour was out. I couldn’t wait.

  “Look who I found hanging out with his daddy,” she said in high falsetto, caressing his little cheek with her finger. “Isn’t that right, sweetie? Isn’t it? Isn’t it? But he wanted his grandma. Yes, he did. Yes, he did.”

  Lily’s jaw dropped at my mother’s baby talk, but she recovered quickly. “We’re ready here. Where’s Gage and Mario? And Dad?”

  “Outside the door,” Sadie answered, peeking out. “Looks like Gage is chomping at the bit to see Tessa. He’s pacing.”

  I smoothed my wedding dress, the same one I’d worn in Vegas, though it didn’t need smoothing. The odd feeling in my stomach was back, but now it stemmed more from excitement than nervousness.

  Lily hugged me again. “I love you, sis,” she whispered. “I just want to say thanks. You’ve always been there for me. Without you, we would have lost everything.”

  “Not me. Gage.”

  He’d paid her mortgage for four months until my parents—and their business—had come around. Next week when I received my funds, we’d pay off the house completely. We had big plans when I finished my degree to buy the land next to her house and turn her small halfway house into a larger operation to help more girls.

 

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