That’s an understatement. The whole situation’s screwed. Preston released me yesterday, gave me permission to break his heart and go get my family. I was too late. When she walked in with Gage, the months of hoping we’d find our way died. I was lonely before. Now I’m hopeless, and the only thing keeping me hanging on is that sweet boy. My last piece of our love that even she can’t take away.
I glance around the empty room. Better get used to this. I no sooner think it than Preston opens the door with his elbow, finagles his foot in the crack, and swings it open with a hip thrust while carrying two Styrofoam coffee cups and a ginormous blue bag overflowing with tissue paper.
“Darn. I was hoping to make it back before you woke up.” He hands me one of the cups. “I snuck you a coffee. Don’t tell the doc.”
“Lifesaver.” I inhale the nutty aroma. “What’s in the bag?”
“A present dropped off at the front desk for you.” He pulls out clods of tissue paper and tosses them in the trash, then reaches in and pulls out a large box decorated in primary colors with all sorts of “pediatrician approved” stickers. “It’s a teddy bear ‘motion-activated A/V monitor with flashing lights and soothing heartbeat rhythms to lull baby into safe, lasting sleep,’” he reads from the side of the box.
“You sound like an advertisement. Who’s it from?” I ask, sipping my coffee. Who would leave a gift at the desk instead of bringing it to me?
“Hold on.” Preston pulls a card from the bag, opens it and reads, “Congratulations on a sweet baby boy. Love, Gage and—”
“Stop!” No way he’s finishing that sentence. “I don’t wanna know. Put it over on the counter.” Unbelievable. Gage stomps on my heart then drops off a peace-offering. Print me a freakin’ t-shirt. Gage tossed our family to the wind, and all I got is this lousy teddy bear.
Preston pulls the electrical plug from its butt and sticks it in the socket. “This is actually pretty cool,” he says, waving his hand in front of it.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. On the counter.”
He rolls his eyes and pushes the bear away, turning to pack up his laptop and notebooks for a morning class. Beady eyes stare at me from the counter, taunting me, like the freaking thing has a life of its own. The more I glare at it, the more it looks like her, fake and squinchy-eyed. Flipping off a stuffed bear is juvenile but called for. I’ve earned the right.
My finger’s barely down before Preston turns around, packed up to leave for his morning class. “Your dad has a few conference calls this morning, but he’s coming in later. You need to rest. Sleep. Watch TV. Read.” He pounds one fist into the other palm as he ticks off the list as I roll my eyes and stare out the window. “Tonight, you get to hold your son.” Zinger. The cherry on top of my well-behaved, sedate day.
Fine, I’ll behave as long as that doesn’t include not joshing Preston. “Sure you have to go? What if my attacker barrels in here and tries to hatchet me to death?” I pause and blare my eyes, pulling my covers up to my nose. “What then? Read with him? Take a nap?”
He scowls and pulls the shoulder strap from the laptop bag off his shoulder. “Not funny, Rayne. I’m just gonna stay here and skip—”
I push the covers away from my face. “No way, kill-joy. I’m joking. I’m safe in here. I know you’ve sweet talked all the staff, worked your charms, batted your eyelashes…”
“Too bad that kind of thing never works on you.”
“I’m impervious to your charms, a real solid wall.”
He nods, smiling, and kisses my cheek. “You and little man hold it down today. I’ll be back in a bit.” As the door clicks shut behind him, I turn on the TV and flip through a couple stations. News, sports recaps, educational cartoons, infomercials, and a black-and-white ‘60s sitcom—any of them great for background noise but not much else. I reach under my pillow and pull out the note from Mama. It’s been under there since Preston gave it back to me. Funny how it’s always the first thing I go to when I’m feeling this way. Hopeless, helpless, and useless.
Something about it is soured now. If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it never was. What if it comes back to you but brings along a friend? What then? Is it yours or not? Even this note, my comfort for so many months, is making my non-stop headache worse.
When the door opens, I quickly turn my back, shoving the note under my pillow before Daddy can see it. Mama’s handwriting always brings tears to his eyes, and there’s been enough of those lately. “You’re here earlier than I expected. Preston said it would be—” The click-clack of stilettos approach me and unless Daddy’s taken to wearing heels, it isn’t him.
She’s wearing black peep-toes and a red suit, the pencil skirt hugging her in all the right places and the peplum jacket tailored to her frame. Her pearl necklace skims her collarbone, the signature look of money. “Good morning, Rayne.”
“Morning, Charlotte. I wasn’t expecting you.”
She smirks and reaches down to fluff my pillow, not that it needs it. “Now, now dear. It doesn’t sound like you’re too happy to see me.”
Sure, I’m happy to see her. Like I’m happy to see a boil or a stomach virus. She’s that enjoyable. “Of course I am. It’s just… Preston’s not here. He had class…” Surely she’s not here to see me. I can’t imagine her having some sudden attack of conscience and giving two shits.
She cocks her head in my direction, one eyebrow arched. “I know Preston’s in class. He gave me his schedule and told me your father would be delayed today, so I thought I could help out. Keep you company and visit that sweet grandbaby. Just look at this picture I took a minute ago of him in the nursery.” She clicks a button on her phone and shoves the screen in my face. My baby, my beautiful boy, in the incubator down the hall and a timestamp that tells me she was there just five minutes earlier. “He’s absolutely a doll, it’d be a shame if anything ever happened to him. He is my grandchild… for all intents and purposes, that is.”
She looks at me, expressionless, as she sits on the edge of my bed. My heart picks up tempo, thumping hard against my ribs. “Why would you say something like that?”
“Oh Rayne.” She clicks her tongue, “Did you really think Ashlyn wouldn’t tell me everything? But don’t worry. The baby will be just fine… as long as you do what I say.” Her voice changes on the last part, low and sinister. It sends a shiver through me.
Oh my God. She knows the truth, and she’s only going to use it for evil. “I don’t understand?” I’m thinking I don’t want to.
She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Preston obviously didn’t pick you for your intelligence, did he? Let me spell this out for you. Get lost or you and the baby are going to die. And this time, I won’t miss my mark.”
It starts as a burning in my throat that spreads out into icy ripples. The scary reality. Something that never even crossed my radar. “It was you? You attacked me?”
“You act like you didn’t have it coming!” She crosses her arms and looks at me as if she’s shocked by my audacity to question her actions. “You single-handedly ruined my family. My son never needed to know about his father’s infidelity. I had taken care of all that years ago, but no, your crazy Mama’s little deathbed confession dredged it all back up. You cheated on Preston with that bastard brother of his and humiliated him in front of the whole town. Now you have him roped into all this. You deserve every bit of it. You should have died.” Every time she says “you,” she jabs her finger in my direction.
I give it right back, as much as possible from this hospital bed. “You’re insane! How did you think you’d actually pull it off?”
“Please. I run this town,” she laughs again and shakes her head. “I did it before with no problems. Some desperate, mentally ill woman even took the blame for it. When it broke you and Gage up, that was the cherry on top of my sundae.”
“I… I don’t…”
“Try to keep up, Rayne. It’s not that h
ard. I killed Gage’s mother. That slut ruined the life I’d worked so hard for. She seduced my husband and got pregnant while I was at home with an infant. My marriage to Jackson had been planned for years, and I refused to let some common trash ruin it. A quick blow to the temple, and she fell without a fight into the street. I must say, though, my aim has grown fairly shoddy over the years. I’m sure you’re thankful for that, right dear? How is that wound feeling? Sore?” She reaches out to touch the bruise, but I shrink, batting her hand away with mine.
Her words scramble in my brain like eggs, rolling around in some squishy, formless mass I don’t quite understand. The images of Mama lying in bed, crying, confessing her sin, and all the memories of her anxiety spells throughout my childhood flash back. Mama suffered and died because of this monster who tore her life apart and is now trying to do the same to mine. The fear runs out of me like water down a drain, and the fury rolls in.
“My mama died thinking she’d killed Gage’s mother. She blamed herself all those years because—”
“Seriously, blah blah blah. I’d quit worrying about your mother, Rayne. She’s dead. You and that baby are going to join her if you don’t get the hell out of this town and never return. Never call Preston again. Don’t leave a note. Don’t leave a forwarding address. Don’t leave a number. Just get out of our lives. For good.”
“Preston will never let you treat me this way. He will—”
“Preston is loyal… to me. I’ve been his mother for 21 years. I’ve taken care of him and protected him. He knows Mommy loves him, and he’ll take my side. Don’t try me, little bitch, or your son will be the first to go. Remember,” she holds up her phone with the picture of him in the nursery still on the screen, “grandmothers can visit any time they wish. Preston put me on the list, and I’ll be more than happy to spend some quality time…” She bends over my bed, her nose so close to mine her breath blows across my face as she talks.
When the door opens unexpectedly, Charlotte leans back, standing straight as an arrow, a fake smile plastered across her face.
Gage. Thank God. He walks in, shifting his eyes between me and Charlotte. “What’s going on?” His steps are slow but deliberate as he inserts himself in front of me like a first line of defense against her. “What’re you doing here?”
“I might ask you the same thing, son. Or do I even need to? You’ve always wanted what Preston had.”
“Rayne, are you okay?” He looks at me but never turns his back on her.
“Of course, she’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with me visiting my grandson and his mother, right?”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” he snaps. “Rayne?”
“She did it, Gage. She’s the one who attacked me!” My voice gets louder with each word, the realization pouring in that she’s about to make good on her promises.
Instead, she laughs. “Nonsense! Obviously, she’s on too many medications or the bump on her head has caused some brain damage. Quite possibly she’s going crazy like her mama.”
“You bitch!” I scream, slamming myself forward, my abdominal muscles screaming. A surge of blood oozes, hot and sticky, down my inner thighs and seeps through the white cotton sheets. Searing pain shoots through me like a bullet. “Ow!” I extend my arms, trying to cover the bleeding with my hands but it escapes through my fingertips.
Immediately Gage focuses on me, but unless he’s developed super-human healing powers, it’s futile. “Get her. Don’t let her leave,” I mumble through the deep gasps I’m forced to take with each stabbing pain. “She said she’d kill the baby. She tried to kill me. She’s the one who killed your mother. Get her!”
In two seconds, he’s across the room where Charlotte is slipping into the hallway. He grabs her arm and pushes her into the wall. “You aren’t going anywhere.” Gage leans through the open door and yells for security and nurses.
I turn my eyes from the blood rapidly discoloring my sheets because the lightheadedness kicks in, threatening to make me throw up or faint. The room spins and all I can focus on are those two beady eyes. Oh my God, those eyes. The monitor. That horrible, awful, beautiful, wonderful A/V monitor.
The nurse runs in first, bee-lining to my bed when she sees the blood, the doctor hot on her heels. They talk in medical jargon and give me a shot of something so fast-acting my vision blackens from the outside in. I can barely turn my head, but in the corner, Gage and the security officer have Charlotte sitting in a blue arm chair. She’s smug, assured she has nothing to worry about. With my last strength, I call to him. “Gage.” He turns, his eyes clouded with both fear and anger. God, I love him. “Check the monitor. It’s on the cabinet.” His eyes immediately go to the stuffed bear, and he smiles.
Blackness.
Chapter 56
Gage
C
harlotte sits in a plastic chair in the hospital conference room, one wrist handcuffed to the table leg, the other hand clacking her nails across the top. We’ve been sequestered to opposite sides of the room, each being questioned by an officer who’s taking our statements.
“This is preposterous! Do you know who I am? How important I am?” Her shrill voice bounces around the room as the officer beside her scratches his head, looking down at his notepad. “How dare you treat me like a common criminal! What’s your badge number? I’ll have your job when this ordeal is over. I’ll sue the police department!”
I lean in close to my officer. “I take it he drew the short straw?”
She snorts and adjusts the walkie-talkie on her side. “He has more patience than I do.”
I’m signing the form with my written statement when the brown wooden door swings open and Dad and Preston rush in, eyes wide and mouths open.
“What’s going on here?” Dad demands, panning his hand around the room. His eyes land on me, and he darts to my side, gathering me into a hug. “Gage. Thank God you’re here. What happened?”
I take a deep breath and recount everything from my statement. Everything I saw. Everything Rayne told me.
Preston shakes his head. “There has to be some mistake.”
The empathy for my brother tears into me. Not so long ago, I learned horrible truths about who I was and where I came from. It sucks when the rug’s jerked out from underneath you in a heartbeat, but the truth needs to be told. “No. There’s no mistake.”
Preston slaps his hand over his mouth as the color drains from his face, and Dad sinks into the chair, one hand gripping his forehead, the other arm wrapped around his stomach. He mumbles into space. “Oh my God. Leighton. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry she did this to you.”
The door squeaks open again and another officer walks in, carrying a laptop. The Howard family lawyer trails close behind and rushes to Charlotte’s side, whispering frantically in her ear. She rolls her eyes and flounces back in her chair.
The officer places the laptop on the table and grabs the bear off the counter, pulling out its hidden USB cable, and plugs it in. A few taps of the keys and the video uploads and begins playback, the first scene showing Preston and Rayne in the room then Rayne flipping off the bear with a nasty grimace.
I smile to myself despite the chaos surrounding me. In one video frame—there’s my girl.
“She’s obviously mentally ill!” Charlotte stabs her finger at the screen. “It runs in her family.”
“Shhh!” Her attorney squeezes her arm and shakes her head with force. Good luck trying to get that evil witch to not incriminate herself.
The footage continues to roll, with audible gasps circulating in the room each time Charlotte spills another one of her nasty secrets.
Get lost or you and the baby are going to die.
You act like you didn’t have it coming.
You should have died.
I killed Gage’s mother.
The fury hits me like a tsunami, and all I can imagine is hurdling the table and ripping her head off. Doing to her what she did to my mo
ther. What she tried to do to Rayne. Red and black spots form in my vision, my heart relocating to my throat. I jump to my feet, ready to unload when I stop short. I don’t have to say anything, because Preston and Dad erupt in unison, screaming in her face, reaming her. Destroying her.
If nothing else, one small victory can be claimed in the midst of all this tragedy.
Dad and Preston are finally free.
I reach for the doorknob. There’s no reason to be here anymore. I’ve seen enough.
“Hey!” Preston jogs up, his voice interrupted by short, jagged breaths. He grabs my arm before I can escape. “You okay?”
“Maybe I should be asking you that.” I glance past him to Charlotte who sits stone-faced as Dad yells, stabbing accusatory fingers in her direction. “But yeah, I’m good.”
“Do me a favor. Go talk to Rayne. Y’all have things to discuss.” He dips low, catching my gaze. “You need this. Trust me.”
Preston turns and re-joins the interrogation as the wooden door clicks shut between me and them, stifling the voices inside. I walk down the hall to her room, my footsteps echoing in the narrow hallway. The blinds in the sidelight window are cracked open enough so I can peek in. She’s lying in the hospital bed, covered in white blankets, arms stretched out across the top. Each have several tubes and monitors attached.
I ease open the door and step into the room, but she doesn’t move, and her eyes remain closed. Probably still sleeping after the dose of medicine. Behind the bed, a teal reclining chair sits catty-cornered, and I pull it closer to her side, settle in, and wait for her to wake up.
She’s so small, so helpless, lying there. Lost and almost child-like, her brown curls flattened by the pillow and swirling around her face in a frizzy crown. Beautiful. As always.
The same questions keep filtering through my brain. How did we get here? And how do I go on without her? God, equip me with the strength to look at her and smile, give her my congratulations on her new life and walk away… again. An impossible journey, and I fear either my feet or my mouth will betray me and simply refuse to do what I have to do.
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