This Time You

by T. M. Cromer

  Annie grasped her wrist and, with gentle but firm pressure, tugged it down. One look into her swollen eyes, and Margie knew someone had died. Her sister wasn’t prone to emotional outbursts or crying jags, because they sapped her energy too much.

  Margie trailed the fingers of her opposite hand along Annie’s purpling cheekbone. Her desire to speak was curtailed by the oxygen mask, but her sister understood what she wanted to know.

  “Don attacked you, Margie.”

  Remembered fear and panic caused Margie’s body to jerk, and she glanced wildly about. Although he shouldn’t still be in the room, her brain couldn’t quite come to grips with logic.

  “He’s dead, Margaret.”

  Gabriel’s flat comment shocked her.

  She tugged at the mask, but he resettled it in place and sandwiched her hand between both of his.

  “Your oxygen levels took a nose-dive, love. You have to leave this in place for a little while.”

  “What happened?” she rasped. The words came out garbled, and she wanted to scream her frustration. Trying to vocalize anything immediately brought to mind sword-swallowing acts gone wrong. Instead of going for the respirator, she used her fingers to explore her throat.

  The last thing she recalled was Don glaring down at her.

  Gabriel and Annie shared a long look. Her sister gave him a subtle nod.

  “When Don attacked you…” He shook his head once and tried again. “When Don attacked you, you stabbed him in the eye with your IV needle.” He ran trembling hands through his mussed hair.

  Annie cast him an understanding half smile and took over the explanation. “I was returning to see you, Margie, and was in the elevator when a premonition struck. I arrived as he was choking you.” Her tormented gaze dropped below Margie’s chin. “All I could think to do was hit him. You’d just jabbed his eye, and I thought between the two of us, we’d stopped him.” Annie touched her bruised cheek. “He punched me after I kicked him in the ballsack.”

  Margie’s distressed cry was more of a croak.

  “I’m okay. They’ve already checked it all out,” Annie assured her. “After Don knocked me across the room, he turned back to finish what he started. But he dropped like a stone. One second, he was reaching for you, the next, he was on the floor.”

  “The doctor ruled it an aneurysm,” Gabriel concluded as he moved sideways to allow the nurse to attend Margie. “But he’s gone, love. For good, this time.”

  She knew she should feel relief, but the emptiness inside was like a black hole swallowing all her emotions. Fatigue struck, and sleep’s siren call couldn’t be ignored. She gave in rather than try to process everything they’d told her.

  * * *

  As Gabriel watched Margaret’s eyes flutter closed, he once again thought about how close they’d come to losing her. If Annie hadn’t arrived when she did… Jesus!

  “Why don’t you go join Jamie and get something to eat, Gabe? I’ll wait with her.”

  “I’m good. You should, though. I’ll be here for when she wakes again.”

  “How are you holding up?”

  “Twice that sonofabitch hurt her, and twice I was too late to help. I don’t know how I feel.”

  “You couldn’t have known.”

  “The first time, I strongly suspected he was off. I don’t have your gifts, but everything about him was wrong, you know?”

  “I do.”

  “Then he set us up for failure with that damned video.”

  Annie remained quiet.

  “After Margie disappeared, I thought about all the things I never got to say to her. Every night, I dreamed of her in some small way. In my waking hours, I imagined the horrors she must’ve undergone.” He shook his head. “They didn’t even come close if what the officers inferred is true.”

  “You aren’t twisted like he was. There’s no way you could’ve come close to imagining what he’d do.”

  His head came up, and he pinned her with a stare. “Do you know? Did you see?”

  Gabriel didn’t know how to begin to breech Margaret’s walls or ultimately help her if he couldn’t understand what she’d been through. And he desperately wanted to ease her suffering if he could.

  “I don’t know all of it, but I won’t betray her trust, Gabe.” Her lips tightened, and she glanced down at her sleeping sister. “If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you.”

  “No.” He gingerly eased a strand of Margaret’s dark hair away from her sweat-dampened brow. “No, she won’t. Don’t ask me how I know, but I do.”

  Chapter 31

  A crash and a curse rang out from the area of Margie’s pool deck. Even knowing it couldn’t be Don, knowing that nightmare would never play out in real life again, her heart accelerated to heart-attack speed.

  Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

  Dr. Stephen Montgomery had been counseling her for weeks now and had warned her PTSD would be an issue. It would strike at odd times, paralyzing her from taking action—as it was now. For all she knew it was a damned raccoon, but her mind automatically assumed intruder, and her body reacted accordingly.

  “Mom?” Kaley rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes. “What was that noise?”

  Mama Bear kicked in. “Grab your phone and lock yourself in with the boys. Try not to wake them if you don’t have to, but be on alert.”

  Her daughter’s blue eyes flared wide, and her hand flew to her throat. “Is someone trying to break in? We should call nine-one-one.”

  Another crash and curse sounded from the other side of the slider. This time Margie recognized the voice. “Never mind. It’s Gabe. Go back to bed.”

  “Gabriel? At two in the morning?”

  “Apparently.” Anger bloomed. The careless disregard he exhibited had scared her and Kaley both. Of all the boneheaded moves for him to make, terrifying Kaley after all those torturous months was right up there.

  “You sure it’s him?”

  Kaley’s life had altered drastically this last year. First, with the death of Michael. Second, when her beloved aunt was admitted to Brookhaven. And then again when Margie had disappeared. Trauma had forced her to grow up faster than a teenager should’ve had to.

  Margie flipped on the floodlights.

  Gabriel’s large body was sprawled across the hammock, facedown. A grimace twisted her lips. How many times had he done this now? Five? Ten? Maybe more. Certainly only when he got piss drunk, which seemed more frequent of late.

  “I’m sure. Go back to bed, sweetheart.”

  “Okay.”

  Margie keyed in the new alarm code. She was careful to change it monthly. Something simple for the family, but still a challenge for anyone to figure out. Easing open the slider, she stepped out onto the deck and crossed to where Gabriel began to snore.

  “Gabe.” She shook his foot. “Gabriel, wake up and go home.”

  He grunted and attempted to roll onto his back, dislodging himself from his nest and landing hard on the concrete. “Fuck!”

  Biting her lip to abort a laugh, she offered a hand to help him up. He ignored her gesture and stayed where he was, head in hands.

  “I failed you.” The raggedness and pain in his voice made Margie want to gather him close.

  She wouldn’t.

  Touching him opened a can of worms she wasn’t able to deal with.

  Instead, she sat cross-legged on the ground across from him. “No, you didn’t.”

  “I did!” His head came up, and the tortured look on his face chipped off another piece of her fractured heart. “I did, Margaret. I failed to protect you.”

  “It was never your job to protect me, Gabriel.”

  “Yes. Because I love you, and that’s what you do. You protect the ones you love.”

  He’d once told her about his past and all he’d been through. Time and time again, he’d taken the brunt of his father’s abuse to save his brothers a beating. Gabriel was the model big brother. He was the perfect everything because he’d had to be. See
ing him not so perfect like this was awful, but not because she required him to be flawless. This departure from who he normally was and tried so hard to be, was killing him. He was conflicted, filled with pain, and that was the saddest part.

  Ignoring her trepidation and giving into instinct, she placed a hand on his knee. “Listen to me. Neither of us knew how sick Don was. We had no idea he’d planned what he had. It was impossible to predict he’d…” Her throat went dry. “It doesn’t matter. He was a fucking deviant, and you’re not to blame for this. You need to stop torturing yourself.”

  “I can’t seem to,” he whispered, turning away to stare at the deep end of the pool.

  “I’ve had an offer on the house.”

  His head whipped back around. “You’re really leaving?”

  “It’s for the best. You need to get on with your life, and this…” She gestured to his slumped shoulders. “… this isn’t helping either of us.”

  “What can I do or say to make you stay? If it’s this place, you and the kids can come live with me.”

  The earnestness in his face caused her heart to spasm. Without a doubt, he’d haul them next-door this minute if she said yes. But the ability to agree wouldn’t come. First, he’d need to know what had happened in that basement, yet every single time she thought about telling him, her throat locked up.

  This was no different.

  “Talk to me, Margaret. Please.”

  “You need to get on with your life, Gabriel. You can’t show up here at night and give me a heart attack whenever you knock into the furniture.” She rose to her feet and purposely hardened her expression. “There is no more us. I thought I made it clear. The sooner you realize it, the better.”

  “I can’t walk away without knowing why.” He staggered to his feet and swayed as he leaned over her. “Hell, even if I did know why, I couldn’t walk away.”

  “You can’t even walk, period,” she muttered. There was no way she was going to get him back home by herself. She glanced at Gabriel’s darkened house, doubting Gordie was in residence during touring season.

  Her couch would have to be Gabriel’s bed for the night.

  Steeling herself, she placed his arm across her shoulders and hers around his waist. Beads of sweat popped out on her upper lip, and her skin turned clammy. But it wasn’t from the exertion of helping him toward her door. The mere act of him touching her made Margie want to hurl.

  With small, controlled breaths, she guided him into the house.

  They made it into the living room with a lot of grunting on both their parts. Right when she would’ve left him to settle onto the sofa, he twisted and cupped her face.

  Her heart began to hammer, and she clawed his skin, trying desperately to remove his hands from her person. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” she whimpered. “Don’t touch me!”

  “Jesus! I’m not, Margaret. I’m not.” All drunkenness drained from his face, and he held his hands up and out from his sides. “Please, love, calm down. I’m not.”

  It took roughly ten seconds for reason to penetrate her brain. On the heels of her hysteria came embarrassment. “Ohmygod, Gabriel! I’m so sorry. I…” Sobs came from the deepest part of her soul and broke from her lips. “I’m… s-so sorry… I’m s-sorry… I… c-can’t… can’t.”

  Never, in the weeks since she’d been home, had she cried. All the residual terror and emotion left over from her abduction had been shoved so far down, it was never supposed to see daylight again. She’d had to be strong for her children. Strong for her family. Strong for Gabriel. Margie wasn’t allowed to break down. But that’s exactly what she did.

  Collapsing on the floor, she continued to weep. Continued to struggle to draw a breath from her overworked lungs. Gasping and choking, she cried on.

  Thin arms wrapped around her from behind. Somewhere within the depths of her mind, she registered it was Kaley and tried not to react negatively to her touch. Freaking the fuck out on her child wasn’t good.

  “Go away!” Scotty screamed at Gabriel, punching at his stomach, arms, and any body part he could reach. “Go away! You’re making her cry. You promised you’d never hurt her. You promised!”

  As Gabriel shifted to go, Margie latched onto his leg and rested her forehead against his thigh. Her children grew still, and Kaley’s arms dropped away as Gabriel knelt down beside her. Finally, Margie was able to contain herself, but only enough to meet his tormented, gray eyes. “It’s not… your… f-fault, Gabriel.”

  His desire to hold her was written on every line of his body, and Margie had to grant him this one last favor. Inching forward, she caressed his face with her fingertips. If this was goodbye, he couldn’t go with the memory of terrorizing her.

  “I d-do love y-you,” she whispered past the ache in her throat.

  Taking his hands in hers, she guided them to her waist, flinching only slightly and praying he didn’t feel the movement. She feared he did because he started to draw away. More firmly, she pressed his hands to the flat area of her back then wrapped her arms around his neck. “Please hold me, Gabriel. Just this once.”

  His breath gushed out, and he drew her into his embrace, inch by inch, with such tenderness, such reverence, Margie nearly began sobbing again. Frantically, she blinked away the tears.

  When his arms were fully around her and her head rested on his shoulder, she closed her eyes and inhaled the smell of sunshine and love.

  Gabriel. Her beloved Gabriel.

  She didn’t want to lift her head, but in her peripheral, she could see her children hovering. “It’s all right, Kaley. You and Scotty go back to bed, okay?”

  * * *

  The children were reluctant to leave their mother, and Gabriel understood their reticence because he’d have felt the same.

  In the cradle of his arms, Margaret remained stiff as a board, unable to relax, and his heart knew true sorrow. It would be the last time she’d allow this. She believed she was too damaged for him to love, and he couldn’t bridge the distance or convince her otherwise.

  If he had one wish, it would be to resurrect Don and kill that sonofabitch by his own hand, but much slower and with a lot more pain to make his passing sheer agony. It was no less than he deserved.

  “Margaret?”

  “Yes?”

  “Will you tell me what happened?”

  Gabriel would’ve sworn it wasn’t possible for her to stiffen more than she was, but she did.

  “No.”

  “Stephen keeps telling me to give you time, but he won’t say why you’ve decided I’m the enemy.”

  She drew away and slumped against the edge of the couch. The dead eyes she turned on him were crushing. “It’s not his place to tell you what happened.”

  “I agree. It’s yours. Please. Talk to me.”

  She stared at him the longest time, and Gabriel was positive she’d reject him yet again. When he thought he might not be able to bear another moment of her silence, Margaret rose to her feet slowly, as if she were a hundred years old. “Come. I don’t want the children to overhear.”

  He placed his palm within her proffered hand, pathetically grateful she permitted this small contact. They strolled out to the pool deck, and she shut the door so curious kids couldn’t overhear.

  They each settled into separate loungers. Margaret sitting with her legs out in front of her, and Gabriel perched on the edge of one chair, facing her. He rested his forearms on his knees and clasped his hands together in an effort to keep them to himself instead of pulling her into his arms again. His need for contact continually tried to override his reason. And all the alcohol he’d consumed made that reason sketchy at best.

  “Are you sure you want to know, Gabriel? Once you do, you can’t go back to blissful ignorance. It will forever mar your memories.”

  “I’m sure.”

  Her eyes dulled, and she nodded.

  Was he doing her a disservice by insisting? Stripping away her last thread of dignity? He almost change
d his mind, but his overactive brain would continue its relentless imaginings until he knew what had transpired.

  “I was on the beach when Don arrived. It was the secluded spot you and I had chosen for lunch.” She inhaled sharply. “I was trying to sort through my feelings and reconcile the man begging for a second chance with the man in the video, getting a blow job from another woman.”

  “I swear on Opal’s grave, it wasn’t me. I don’t know what Don did to—”

  She held up a hand. “I know, Gabriel. He confessed to splicing the video footage together. Apparently, Don was excellent at photoshopping.” She shook her head. “I think part of me knew it back then, too. But that’s neither here nor there. I’m trying to tell you what happened.”

  Gabriel scrubbed his hands up and down his face, then through his hair. “Sorry.”

  “I heard a noise behind me and turned around. He tased me before I ever registered what he had in his hand.”

  The air left his lungs in a whoosh, and he couldn’t catch his breath. “Jesus!”

  “If you keep interrupting, I won’t get through this.”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  “I was unconscious the entire trip. Apparently, he’d stopped at rest areas along the way to dose me with some drug or another.”

  Margaret closed her eyes, and Gabriel forced himself to remain silent. Inside, his blood boiled. If he did nothing else with his life, he intended to see animals like Don put away for life from here on out.

  “When I came to, I was chained to a wall.”

  A strangled cry escaped him. “Sammy’s vision was correct.”

  “Sammy?”

  “She managed to call here the day you went missing. She spoke to James, but he didn’t tell her you were missing. No one wanted to add to her trials.”

  “I see.” And perhaps she did because she didn’t seem surprised by the information. Margaret rubbed her hands along her upper arms. “He’d built a basement into the side of a mountain, and I remember thinking the space was enormous.” She shook her head as if irritated by the errant thought. “Don had constructed various platforms. Each one represented a different room. There was a duplicate of my bedroom, yours, your office…”