Sleeping Alone

by Bretton, Barbara

  “Any second now,” Vince said, keeping the beam of light focused on the approaching boat. “We’ll know what’s what any second.”

  The ache in her belly grew stronger. Think about the baby, she told herself. Getting this upset wasn’t good for the child growing inside her womb. No matter what happened between her and John, there would always be the baby.

  John was safe. He had to be. The world needed people like him, a good man in a world where goodness was in short supply.

  “I think it’s a garvey,” Nick said. “Sweet Jesus, I think it is.”

  Dee’s fingers dug into Alex’s hand. Alex closed her eyes, too afraid to watch.

  Next to her Dee let out a cry, a sharp explosion of sound that Alex felt in her bones.

  “Please, God,” she whispered. “Please.”

  She opened her eyes. The men were grabbing for the boat, pulling it close to the dock. She saw it all, the boat and the men and the dock. She saw Brian tossing a cigarette into the water, heard the sizzle as it broke the surface. She saw Dee’s face, alive with happiness. She saw Mark, wet and skinny, struggling to man an oar. And she saw Eddie sitting next to Mark, a rock for the boy to lean against.

  But she didn’t see John.

  A terrible silence fell across the dock. A single sound rose out of that silence, a low keening wail, and she realized in some distant part of her mind that it was coming from her. Her knees buckled, and she felt someone put an arm around her to catch her. Cold... so cold... she wondered if she would ever be warm again. This wasn’t really happening. She was dreaming, trapped in the middle of a nightmare, and all she had to do was wake up and it would all go away.

  Dee turned to her, and their eyes met. The look they exchanged was one of triumph and despair and a deep understanding that transcended even sorrow. Dee opened her arms and reached out to her son, gathering him to her breast the way she had when he was a little boy.

  Nick and Vince grabbed Eddie and pulled him out the garvey. They pounded him on the back, ruffled his wet hair, did all the things men did to express emotion without words.

  Brian tossed another cigarette into the water. Mark looked toward the sound. His youthful features hardened into something fierce and ugly, and before anyone realized what was happening, he hurled himself at Brian, ramming his head into the man’s gut, knocking him to the ground. The look of shock on Brian’s face would have been comical if the situation had been different. He lay there on his back in his big-city clothes while his son hammered at him with his fists.

  “You son of a bitch!” Mark cried as Brian covered his face with his arms. “Leave her alone! Nobody wants you here!”

  Something inside Brian seemed to explode. One second he was the passive victim, and the next he was a lethal weapon. He threw Mark off him as if the boy was made of feathers. He jammed his thumbs into the soft spot in Mark’s throat, and Dee screamed as her son dangled from Brian’s hands like a rag doll.

  “This is the little fuck who wrecked my car,” Brian said to Dan Corelli, who seemed too shocked to move. “I’m pressing charges.”

  “He’s a juvenile,” Dan said, still motionless. “And you don’t have any proof.”

  “Call it intuition,” Brian snarled. He shook the kid until the boy’s feet left the ground again. “Tell the nice man what you did, you bastard.”

  Mark’s face was bright red, and he was struggling to breathe, much less talk.

  “Put him down,” Dee shrieked, landing a blow to Brian’s shoulder.

  “Put him down?” Brian abruptly released Mark, and the boy fell in a heap at his feet. “You did a great job with him, Dee Dee. You should be proud.”

  “You bastard,” she said, bending down to help her son.

  Alex watched through a haze of sorrow as Brian turned again to Dan Corelli. “I’m not bullshitting you, Dan. This kid is going to learn discipline if you have to beat it into him.”

  “A little late, isn’t it, big brother?” That voice—that wonderful beloved voice!

  Years later Alex would remember the moment she saw John stepping out of the shadows as the moment her life began again. Relief flooded through her body, and she sagged against Sally Whitton, but there wasn’t time to savor the joy. What had started as an uncomfortable situation was quickly turning violent.

  Brian turned toward the familiar voice. “Stay out of it,” he warned. “It’s none of your business.”

  “More my business than yours,” John said, advancing on him with slow, measured steps. He was dripping wet. His jeans and fisherman’s sweater clung to his body like a second skin. Behind him Alex could just make out the lines of the Kestrel, bobbing near slip number one. It wasn’t hard to see she had taken some heavy damage.

  But, as she thanked God a thousand times, it was easy to see that John hadn’t.

  “Stand up,” Brian barked at his son.

  “Fuck you,” Mark said, a scared kid talking tough to hide his fear.

  Brian grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet. “You busted up my car, didn’t you?” Anger stripped away his cultured city tones. “Tell them.”

  John loomed over the two of them. “Touch that kid again, and I’ll kill you,” he said to Brian.

  “Go to hell,” Brian said. “Tell them what you did,” he ordered Mark again.

  Mark pulled away from him. Hatred poured off him in waves. “I threw a rock through your fucking windshield!” His voice cracked and broke mid-sentence. “I wish I’d set fire to it! Why don’t you leave us alone?”

  Brian turned coldly to Dan Corelli. “You’ve got your confession,” he snapped. “What more do you need?”

  “Not much,” Dan conceded. He turned to the boy. “You admit you wrecked his car?”

  “Yeah, I wrecked his car.”

  “Do something,” Dee said to John. “Shouldn’t he have a lawyer or something?”

  John stepped between Dan and Mark. “You don’t have to answer his questions,” he said to the boy. “You have rights in this situation, too.”

  Dan, however, seemed less amenable than before. “It’s starting to come together now,” he said, pulling a notepad and pen from his pocket. “What about the vandalism here?” He gestured toward the boats moored in the various slips. “We’re called out here three times a week. I always thought it was one of you kids, and now I got proof.”

  “You don’t have any proof at all,” John protested. “Just because Mark said he smashed Brian’s windshield doesn’t mean he had anything to do with what happened here.”

  “Figure it out,” Brian said, disdain dripping from each word.

  John turned to Mark. “Did you trash any of the boats?”

  Mark stared down at the ground.

  “Mark.” John’s voice toughened. “I’m asking you again: Did you trash any of the boats?”

  Mark continued to maintain his silence.

  “Good as a confession to me,” Brian said to Dan Corelli. “I’d haul his ass into jail and—”

  “Shut up.”

  All eyes turned to Eddie as he entered the fray. “Drop it, Brian,” he ordered.

  “Stay out of it, Pop,” Brian said. He turned back to Mark. “You wrecked the boats just like you wrecked my car. Tell them.”

  “You’re making a mistake,” Eddie said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Brian laughed out loud, then gestured for the crowd. “I don’t know what I’m talking about? This from a man who wanders around in his pajamas?”

  John opened his mouth to speak, but Eddie silenced him with a look. “I did it,” Eddie said quietly. “I took a sledge to the Kestrel and most of the boats here.”

  “No,” Mark cried. “Don’t say that.”

  The look Eddie gave the boy warmed Alex’s heart. The connection between them was strong and vibrant. “You’ve been covering up for me for too long, Mark. It’s time I faced up to what’s been happening. I’ve got a real problem,” he said simply, “and it’s scaring the hell out o
f me.”

  “You don’t have to do this, Pop,” John said. “You can talk privately with Dan.”

  “No.” Eddie’s voice was firm. “My grandson has been cleaning up behind me for a long time now, and I don’t want him taking the blame for something the wasn’t his fault.”

  Grandson.

  Tears streamed down Mark’s face. “You called me your grandson.”

  “About time, I’d be thinking.” Eddie’s eyes were filled with love and pride. “You saved my life out there tonight, Mark, You risked your own neck to save mine.”

  Mark’s expression veered between embarrassment and pride. “You needed me.”

  “And you were there for me,” Eddie said. He leveled his gaze at Brian. “More than I can say for my own son.”

  Brian reached into his pocket and withdrew a thick stack of currency. He flung it in his father’s direction. “Johnny wouldn’t take it. Maybe you’re smart enough to use it to put yourself in a home, where you won’t get into trouble.”

  It was all Alex could do to keep from leaping for Brian’s throat. Mark, however, didn’t hesitate.

  “It’s all your fault! Nobody wants you here. Why don’t you go back where you came from and leave us all alone?”

  “Mark is a good boy,” Eddie said to Dan Corelli. “I think we can work this out.”

  “It’s up to Brian,” he said. “He’s the one who’s pressing charges.”

  “Do the right thing, Brian,” Eddie said to his son. “You owe the boy.”

  “I don’t owe any of you jack,” Brian said. “What the hell have any of you ever done for me?”

  “If you have to ask that,” John said, “you’re more pathetic than I thought.”

  “You’ve got it wrong, little brother. Everyone here knows who’s pathetic. I’m not the one who couldn’t hang on to his wife.”

  Alex stiffened with fear. She knew Brian was capable of anything.

  “Nothing to say?” Brian taunted as John watched him. “No wonder Libby took off—”

  John grabbed him by the collar and came close to lifting him off his feet. “You don’t know anything about it.”

  “I know she was sick of living with a loser, little brother. I know she wanted more from life than being trapped in this poor excuse for a town. I knew exactly what she wanted and how to give it to her.”

  John’s roar of fury tore through Alex.

  “Don’t like the truth, do you, little brother?” Brian went on. “Why don’t you admit that Libby was leaving you for good that day, not just going back to New York? She’d had enough of life here in this Jersey Shore version of Mayberry. She wanted to be with someone with a little ambition, someone who wasn’t satisfied with just treading water.” John tightened his grip, but it didn’t stop Brian. “Come on, Johnny. Show me what the big hero can do.”

  “He’s not worth it,” Eddie said, placing a restraining hand on John’s arm. “Let it go.”

  Alex couldn’t take it anymore. Too many lies. Too many secrets. She had to put an end to them now before they destroyed everyone. She took a step forward, then froze as Brian’s attention turned to her.

  “Two more days, Alexandra,” he said, meeting her eyes. “That’s all you’ve got.”

  She straightened up, ignoring the pain shooting between her hipbones. John was watching her. So was everyone else at the marina. “I won’t be needing the two days,” she said calmly and clearly. “And I won’t be selling my house to you and Eagle Management.”

  The crowd exploded. They started lobbing questions at Brian like hand grenades. She stood there, eyes locked with his, and knew she would pay for what she did. She also knew it was the best decision she’d made in a very long time.

  She turned away as John reached her side.

  “How long have you known he was behind Eagle?” he asked her, brushing a lock of hair back from her forehead.

  “A few weeks,” she said.

  “You should have told me.”

  “I wanted to but—”

  “He was blackmailing you?” She could see the shadow of fear in his beautiful deep blue eyes.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I tried to tell you before, but we saw Bailey and—” She stopped and drew in a deep breath. “There’s something you need to know, John, something I’ve been too afraid to—”

  “Alex?” He gripped her by the shoulders. “What is it?”

  “I-I don’t know.” She swayed against him. “Dizzy... I’ve been having this pain—”

  He gathered her close, and she heard his low intake of breath against her ear. Suddenly she found herself swept up into his arms, held tight against his broad chest. “We need help here, Corelli,” he called out. Dan turned and looked toward them. “We need the hospital, fast.”

  “The hospital?” She struggled against him, trying to see his face. “I don’t need the hospital. I twisted a muscle, that’s all. I’m fine. I—”

  “You’re not fine, Alex,” he said. “You’re bleeding.”

  Twenty-four

  “Faster,” John urged Corelli as the squad car rocketed toward the hospital in the next town. “I’m afraid she’s hemorrhaging.”

  “I’m going as fast as I can,” Dan said. Beads of sweat dripped down the sides of his face. “This fog is a bitch and a half to drive in.”

  “Did you call Dr. Schulman?”

  “She’ll be waiting for us at the entrance to the emergency room.”

  “Just go faster,” John said again, feeling powerless to stop what was happening.

  “I’m doin’ the best I can, Johnny.”

  Alex gripped his hand tightly. “Leave him alone, John,” she said, her beautiful face pale and frightened. “The last thing we need is an accident.”

  He knew she was right, but the blood—

  “You’re going to be fine,” he told her over and over again. “This isn’t anything serious.”

  They both knew better, but there were times when a lie was exactly what you needed.

  “Listen to me,” she said as the car careened around a corner. “I have to tell you something, and it can’t wait.”

  “It’s going to have to wait,” he said. “We’re at the hospital.”

  “No!” Her voice seemed to fill the car. “Now, John. I have to tell you now.”

  “We’re here,” Dan said, screeching to a stop. “I’ll go get a stretcher.”

  Alex waited until the car door closed behind Corelli. “Remember what I told you about my husband?” John nodded. His gut knotted with apprehension. Sentences like that rarely preceded good news. “That wasn’t all of it, John.” Her words spilled out in rapid-fire succession. “I—I couldn’t get pregnant. We tried for ten years, and I just couldn’t manage.”

  “You managed now,” he pointed out, hanging on to her hand as if it were a lifeline. “You’re pregnant, Alex. You’re carrying our baby.”

  Her amber eyes filled with tears. “It never happened with Griffin.” She told him about the endless visits to expensive doctors, the joyless sex, the husband who sought comfort in the arms of a string of mistresses while his wife slept alone in their king-size bed.

  “All of that’s over,” he said as the doors to the emergency room swung open. “It’s nothing but a memory, Alex. Part of the past.”

  “But it’s not part of the past, John. We’re not divorced.” Her voice broke, and she looked down at her hands. “He had a mistress named Claire Brubaker. We’d moved to London to get a fresh start. He swore to me that he wouldn’t see Claire anymore. We were going to make the marriage work even if I never managed to get pregnant.” Her soft laugh was filled with pain. “Back then I used to shop a lot. There wasn’t much else for me to do. I went into Harrods to buy a new Filofax, and Claire was standing at the next counter.” Claire who was supposed to be in New York. Claire who wasn’t supposed to be pregnant with Griffin Whittaker’s child.

  “He didn’t deny it,” she continued. “The look in his eyes—” She shook her head sad
ly. “I’ll never forget that look. That baby meant everything to him, John. Everything.”

  “The stretcher’s coming, Alex,” he said. “We’ve got to get you inside.”

  “I have to finish this,” she said. “I want to say it once and never think about it again.”

  “You left him,” he said. “I know that, Alex. You learned about the baby and you left.”

  “I stayed.”

  He felt like he’d been gut-punched. “You stayed?”

  “He said the baby wouldn’t affect our lives.”

  “You believed that?”

  “He was my entire world, John. I had no place to go, no one to turn to, nothing to call my own.”

  “But you’re here,” he said. “What changed your mind?”

  The car door opened, and a technician popped his head inside. “Ready when you are.”

  “Wait,” she said, a note of hysteria in her voice. “I need a minute.”

  “You can’t wait,” John said, gesturing for the tech to go ahead. “The baby can’t wait.”

  And the truth was he had the feeling he didn’t want to hear what was coming next.

  * * *

  “No sign of placenta previa,” Dr. Schulman said.

  “That’s a good thing?” John asked.

  “A very good thing,” the doctor said. “I want to do a sonogram, and then we’ll talk about what to do next.”

  “You’re doing good, kid,” John said to Alex after Dr. Schulman disappeared to see if the equipment was available. “Looks like you’re finally going to get your sonogram. Now we’ll know exactly when the baby’s due.”

  “Claire Brubaker lost Griffin’s baby.”

  John’s attention was galvanized. “What?”

  “She lost the baby in October. Griffin came home drunk—” She stopped and took a deep, shuddering breath. He noted the small muscle twitching beneath her right eye. “He raped me, John. He was drunk and filled with pain—I tried to fight him, but he overpowered me.”

  The buzzing in John’s head all but drowned out her words. In a way he wished it would. The images her words painted would be seared in his brain forever. I’m capable of murder, he thought as she spoke. He’d always wondered. Now he knew.