by Robin Janney
“Damn it,” he muttered, raising his rifle and dropping to his knees for a better angle. The land was uneven enough to irritate him.
“Oh no, no,” whispered Everett. They could just hear Angela’s muffled wail of agony. “Philip, hurry…”
But before he could take the shot, there was a low energy hum followed by a blast of…something. A shock wave of energy knocked both Everett and the policeman to their feet. And it was strong enough to knock Philip off balance and cause his shot to go wild.
Unphased, he lowered his rifle and took sight again. But he no longer had the kill shot…or any clear shot on Nikki. Because his daughter was now the aggressor, and it was the other woman screaming in terror.
“Everett, I don’t have the shot! Go pull Angela off! Now.”
“We could just let her kill Nikki herself,” the other man suggested as he finished climbing to his feet.
“That’s not something I’m willing to let my daughter live with! Are you?”
But Everett was already moving and didn’t answer.
So, Philip waited with his gun at the ready for a new shot, the other man with them nearby with his own weapon in hand. Angela was undeterred by the grappling of the woman beneath her and rained her fists down. He had not seen this level of rage in her since the fight with Stinky Mallone. In an ironic twist of fate, Craig Moore had stepped in that day much as Everett was now.
Philip was unsurprised when his daughter turned her fists onto Everett when the other man took hold of her, but the older man held his own as he pulled Angela away. Much as Craig had done all those years ago when he’d pulled an angry Angela off the teen boy. His daughter’s rage had always given her an unearthly strength.
“Angela!” Everett’s voice carried to him. “Stop! It’s your father.”
And then once they were clear, Philip tuned them out. He was watching the other woman clamber to her feet.
Wait for it…
He took a breath.
Wait for it…
Released the breath…
And when she pulled a gun out from behind her back, he breathed in again and holding the breath – took the shot. Nikki Flynn’s corpse dropped to the forest floor before the echoes had faded.
Philip pushed his rifle towards the patrolman and ran across the uneven ground to where Everett knelt next to their fallen daughter.
“Angela!” Everett sounded distressed…scared, even.
“Who shot? What…what’s happening?” Shock was clear in their daughter’s voice, even at a distance. Angela probably had very little idea what had happened. He hoped, oh God, he hoped it was so. Had she been far enough in shock she’d lost track of what was happening? It wouldn’t be the first time. Philip closed the gap between them wondering – would that help her or hinder her in her recovery?
“The police officer with us just shot Nikki, she was going to shoot,” Everett was saying to her.
“Us?” asked Angela, wiping her bloody hands on her bloody t-shirt. She seemed upset over the ineffectiveness of her wiping. Her face was blood splattered as well. “Did I hit her?”
“Yes. She was hurting you and you fought back.” Everett pointed to Philip as he slid to a halt and knelt next to them. “And ‘us’ is Philip and I. We came to find you when Craig called.”
“Craig? Where is he?”
The heartbroken longing in her voice almost undid both men. Philip wrapped his arms around his daughter, not minding the blood and answered her. “He was taking off from LaGuardia last I spoke to him. He’s on his way home, honey.”
She held onto Philip as though her life depended on it. “It’s too late Daddy, but I need a doctor.”
Both men looked at each other in surprise. Their daughter never ‘needed’ a doctor. She always had to have her arm twisted even though she adored Doctor Evans back home.
Philip pulled away from his daughter and gave her a quick once over, aware of Everett doing likewise. And when he saw the blood spreading on the insides of her open jeans, a small intake of air let him know the other man had seen it too. Unfamiliar rage filled him and he spoke without thinking. “That fucking bitch…I’d kill her again if I could.” He wasn’t sure whether to pull his daughter to her feet or not.
Angela just shook her head, still crying. Her breaths came in short little gasps. “Just get me to Dr. Ryan, please Daddy.”
“Can you walk?” Philip asked his daughter, aware of the police officer approaching. Huffing and puffing still.
“Is she…?” the trooper didn’t finish. He cursed and began talking into his radio, his breathing suddenly as even as could be.
“Is he the one we’re saying shot Nikki?” Angela struggled to her feet, letting both her fathers help her.
“Yes,” answered Everett. He looked at the patrolman and waited.
“The helicopter will be ready to take off when we get there,” the trooper answered. “We’ll take care of everything else.”
“Can you shift yet?” Philip asked the red-haired man quietly as they gathered their daughter to her feet.
“No.”
“You said Craig called you?” asked Angela, her voice dazed still. The tears running down her face mingled with the blood on her face, creating a disturbing visage.
“Yes,” Philip answered. “I’ll tell you more later, honey, once we’re out of here. For now, just save your energy. The landing zone is half a mile away.”
“Let me carry you, Angela,” Everett requested as Princess joined their group. He stood ready but made no move to touch her again without her permission. His daughter hesitated, but then nodded her head. The older man scooped her up easily, and Philip envied the other man’s strength.
Retrieving his rifle from the patrolman, Philip followed them, all too aware of his daughter’s haunted and grateful eyes looking back at him.
44
S he lost track of time.
Just like she had when she’d been at the picnic spot. Just like when Nikki had forced her to walk. Numbness filled Angela, even as every ache and pain seemed to scream in her ear.
They took pictures of her. Collected samples of blood from her face, from her hands. They scraped underneath her fingernails. As she watched them, she didn’t hear their questions right away. Angela was upset, thinking she had just painted her fingernails…what night was it? She had wanted them bright pink and fresh when she danced for her husband.
What were they saying to her? She struggled to focus on the women in the room with her. Tried to answer their questions about what had happened. It was hard, especially when she wasn’t even sure what time it was now. How would she know what time she’d left her home, or when the shooting started? She didn’t wear a watch anymore, relied on her smartphone to tell her the time or relied on Nan and Craig.
“She killed Belle…” Angela managed to say at one point in the process. “Nikki said…my mother-in-law wanted this. They planned this for years. Wanted me hurt…wanted me raped…why? Can you tell me why?”
They didn’t have an answer for her.
She was filthy, and she felt dirtier on the inside. There was blood everywhere, and they weren’t letting her wash yet. They were brushing her hair out…collecting the dirt and twigs.
And then they asked her to undress.
“No.” She refused to. Even though she knew she had to. Forcing herself to move, even as her mouth kept saying, “No. No.”
They kept their voices, and their hands, soft and gentle as they helped her. Someone cursed and pulled their camera out again. Why were they taking pictures of her breasts? Why? Why? She tried to cover herself, fresh tears streaming. Firm hands held hers down, and she wanted to scream, but she could only whimper.
“Why?” she asked, unable to focus her gaze on any of them.
“She bit you, sweetie,” one of the older women said. “And a few scratches from the looks of it. We have to document it.”
“But she’s dead…” Angela said, wincing at the feel of cotton-tipped s
wabs touching the sorest spots.
“In case you’re right about her having a partner,” answered another one.
“Will they scar?” Oh God…it was bad enough Derek had left a scar from…before.
Before? Which before? She couldn’t remember. I’m so confused…
Her husband had always been so gentle with that scar, his lips pressing against it without even parting. What would he think of these new marks if they scarred? He was coming home…but why? Was he still going to want this mess? I’m so scared…
“I don’t think so,” said one.
They were all beginning to sound alike, and she struggled to focus. Struggling to stop the tears, she managed to finish undressing for them. “Can I keep my socks? I’m cold.”
“No, Angela, we need it all,” answered the one who’d spoken about a partner. “You said you were raped. Did she penetrate you with anything?”
She couldn’t breathe. I don’t want to remember this…
“Is that enough of a yes?” asked the older woman who had spoken before. She sounded angry.
“She needs to say it,” replied the other woman. She sounded younger, though not by much. “Angela, were you penetrated? We need you to give us a yes or a no. For the record. So the partner can be brought to justice.”
Justice? Justice? She wanted Veronica Moore as dead as Nikki was. Deader if she could arrange it.
“Yes,” Angela managed to say in between gasping breaths. “She put…her fingers…in me…”
“We’re going to need to look down there, Angela,” said the younger sounding one.
“But…my baby…” Even with her jeans off, she could feel the blood seeping out of her. Why weren’t they giving her anything to collect the flow? Her baby was beyond help, she knew this. She had failed to protect her baby.
“Oh Christ, I’m so sorry…” That was a new voice, but the traumatized woman couldn’t assign an age to it.
“We need to get her processed, so her doctor can deal with this,” said the younger, not unkindly. “The police still need a statement too. The sooner we can get this done, the sooner she can go home and get on with the rest of her life.”
“What life?” she wondered out loud. Did she have a life left worth living? My baby…
Trying so hard to breathe, Angela lay back on the exam table and allowed them to exam her nether regions. She could feel her tears pooling in her ears as the camera came out again. How was there anything to take pictures of? But there were even more swabs. Oh God, were they taking pictures of this too? She struggled not to sob outright.
“Scratches there…and there…” said the younger. And she felt a gentle touch on the inside of her thighs. A swab?
“Are you done yet?” asked the third voice, the one with no age. “So this poor girl can shower?”
“Are there any other marks on her?” asked the younger voice.
“Not that can be seen through the blood and dirt,” remarked the older. “Bruises maybe. You can kind of see some on the side of her face.”
“We’ll have to see then.” The younger one sighed. “Alright, Viv, give her a shower and we’ll catalogue anything else afterwards.”
There was the shutting of a door.
“Sit up, Angela,” said the ageless voice. “It’s just you and me now. I’m Vivian, and I’ll help you with a shower. Then we’ll get you covered with a pad, and a gown until your housekeeper can bring you new clothes. We may have to take more pictures if we find more marks.”
“Will…” Each breath pained her. “I have to tell it all over again?”
“Yes,” replied Vivian. Vivian had such gentle hands as she guided the traumatized Angela into a shower. It wasn’t standard procedure, but they’d all been instructed to go above and beyond for this woman. No one had argued. “And I won’t be able to stay with you for that part, I’m sorry. I am so sorry, sweetie.”
The water washed over her. Angela watched with disinterested eyes as bloody water pooled around her before circling the drain.
A ngela lay on her side on the hospital examination table, dressed in nothing but a hospital gown, a pair of mesh underwear, and the thick maxi pad they’d given her to soak up her heavy flow.
She was angry she’d been made to give up the denim shirt of Craig’s she’d worn. As the life which had been growing inside of her flowed out of her, she wanted nothing more than the scent of the one who’d fathered the life. Denied first his presence, and now his scent. Was this going to be her new existence? There was heavy cramping on and off, but all the physical aches were nothing compared to the ache in her heart.
Dr. Ryan wheeled his stool to the side of the exam bed. She wasn’t sure if he had been on call, or if Everett pulled strings to get her regular doctor for her. It made her uncomfortable to think her biological father could pull strings this far away from his home. But she also appreciated it at this moment, especially since she was no longer certain what day it was.
The doctor let his hand rest gently on her shoulder. “It wasn’t that long ago I gave you the good news…”
“It’s a miscarriage, then?” Angela asked dumbly, desperately. “I know some women who bled but kept the baby…”
“I’m sorry, Angela. You’ve lost the baby.”
She did nothing to stop the newest tears leaking out of her. She wouldn’t have been able to anyway. “I know. I think I knew when Belle fell, and I landed so hard.”
“That’s probably what caused it,” confirmed Ryan. “Have you been able to talk with your husband yet?”
She shook her head. “No. Dad, that is Philip, said Craig was on a plane and his phone was turned off. He always does that.”
Ryan nodded. “Then he’ll be home soon.”
“What can I expect?” Angela asked, her voice trembling. “With my body, I mean. How long will I bleed? That kind of stuff.”
Dr. Ryan breathed deeply before answering her. Had he explained it once already? She wasn’t sure. “You’ll probably only bleed heavy for a week, then it’ll taper down like your period would. It might last up to three weeks; if it lasts longer call me. How bad are your cramps?”
“Worse than period cramps. I think I’m passing a lot of clots too. Everything hurts.”
“I know. Do you want me to prescribe something for the pain?”
“Please?”
He nodded. “I’ll need to see you again in a month, unless you have problems. I know you’re anxious for your husband, but please don’t have sex until I give you the green light. You could get an infection if you have intercourse too soon. And no tampons.”
She nodded, still numb.
“I’ll write that script for you now, as well as an antibiotic to guard against infections and a drug to help you expel the uterine lining. I’d rather not do a D&C after your experience in the woods. Make sure you take the painkillers on schedule, before you experience a renewal of pain. You’ll get a printout of symptoms you’ll need to call me about if they pop up, as well as other at home treatments you can do. You can go home once Nan arrives with clothes for you. I’ll double-check with Pat about your other prescriptions, but you can probably restart them too.”
“Okay,” she said. She wiped the end of her nose with the back of her hand, grateful when her doctor handed her the box of tissues. “Do…you won’t tell my husband what’s happened to me, will you?”
Her doctor looked grieved. “He’ll need to know, Angela. If I understood the police correctly, his stepmother was involved.”
“Please, let me tell him.” But would she? She hadn’t decided yet. “I need to know Craig’s coming home for the right reasons. That he’s coming home to stay. I can’t stand the thought of him staying just because he feels sorry for me. But, you can tell Pat for me. She’s been weird lately. I figure if it comes from you, she’ll believe you.”
Ryan’s sigh was frustrated. “I understand, on both counts. Pat’s been…off recently. Just don’t mistake Craig’s compassion for pity, Angela. No matt
er what’s happened, he loves you.”
Angela didn’t answer, not even nodding her head. Would the doctor say that if he’d heard the words her husband had spoken to her during their last chat?
“Hopefully Nan will be here soon with your clothes.” His hand gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Would you like me to send one of your fathers in to sit with you?”
“Philip. Please.”
“Alright.” Ryan stood and walked away. Before he left the room, he covered her with a light blanket.
She wished it had been a heavier blanket. She was so cold.
Angela wasn’t sure how much time passed before Philip came into the room. She could hear him moving the wheeled stool over to the side of the bed before she saw him. When he rolled into view, his face as sad as she felt.
“I’m sorry, Angela,” her father said as he touched her shoulder, much like the doctor had. But his touch brought more comfort, it always had. Just like her husband’s touch did, but different. Would Craig want to touch her again? Especially since she’d lost their child because of her lack of trust in him? “How far along were you?”
Just when Angela thought she was through crying, new tears formed. “We think about three months. Mom and I would have been neck and neck.”
“I’m sorry,” repeated Philip. Her father’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I don’t know everything that’s been going on, Jared didn’t really share much and neither did Craig. There are a lot of things your husband will have to explain to you himself. But before he gets here to do that, I want to let you know he didn’t sleep with her.”
Relief filled her. “Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be without having been there. But I believe him.”
“Good,” she said after a moment. If her father believed her husband…then could she bring herself to believe it too? “That much is good.”
“It is. Hold onto that, Angela. Whatever was said, whatever happened, hold onto that.” Philip gave her a small smile.
“I’ll try, Daddy,” she whispered. “What does Everett know?”
“He knows about as much as I do,” answered Philip. “I’m trying to convince him not to threaten your husband.”