Sleep No More

by Susan Crandall

  Abby didn’t have the strength to blow air into Bryce’s lungs. She was about to take over compressions when she heard the helicopter. It was getting closer.

  She got up and hurried back into the water, out from under the canopy of trees, until she was knee deep, waving her arms overhead. “Help!” Her cry was weak and useless against the sound of the rotors.

  The helicopter swiveled in the air, hovering over the water in front of her. A voice came over a bullhorn. “Help is coming.”

  Abby frantically gestured toward Bryce and Father Kevin. But the helicopter continued to hover. It was only when the voice on the speaker told her again that help was coming that she realized there was no place for the helicopter to land.

  She looked upriver and saw a boat fast approaching.

  She slogged out of the water and fell onto her knees next to Bryce.

  “I can take over compressions,” she said, noticing the growing dark stain of blood on Bryce’s left shoulder.

  She placed her hands in position, purposefully not looking at the duct tape clinging to her left wrist. As she watched Father Kevin, waiting for him to give breaths, she noticed the cut over his eye had pulled open.

  Just before he administered the second breath, Bryce sputtered and drew a breath on his own.

  Abby choked on a sob of relief.

  Father Kevin looked to heaven, closed his eyes, and began to move his lips in quiet prayer.

  Bryce wheezed and coughed; more water bubbled out of his mouth. Abby made certain his head was turned to the side so he didn’t aspirate it back into his lungs.

  She heard the boat’s hull scrape the bank and feet splash through the water. She didn’t take her eyes off of Bryce. She laid her hand on his forehead and muttered encouragement, “Hang in there… You’re doing great… We’re safe… Help is here.”

  She heard the helicopter move away.

  A man fell to his knees on the other side of Bryce. Abby took her hand away from Bryce’s face and switched to holding his hand.

  “He’s been shot,” she said. “In the back.”

  Guided by the blood seeping into the sleeve of Bryce’s T-shirt, the man’s hands immediately went to Bryce’s left shoulder.

  “Dad?” Bryce’s whisper was shaky.

  Abby’s gaze snapped up and her exhausted heart did a triple-flip in her chest. “Jason.”

  His eyes met hers for a brief second, long enough to give her the strength to fight collapse, then he returned his focus to his son’s injury.

  “It looks like it went through,” he said. “That’s a good thing, son.”

  Jason and two other men from the boat helped Bryce on board and stretched him out on the deck. One of the men kept pressure on Bryce’s wound and the other put a blanket over him.

  Then Jason turned back to Abby. His hands ran over her face, her shoulders, searching for wounds. “You’re not hurt?”

  She took a look down at herself for the first time. “I’m fine.” Bryce had thrown himself at her hard enough to sell the act of stabbing to Toby, but he hadn’t struck her with the knife. “Fine.”

  Jason’s hands framed her face. “You saved him.”

  She closed her eyes and fell against him. His arms instantly came around her. Finally, the terror left her and all she felt was the beating of his heart next to hers.

  She whispered against Jason’s neck, “He saved me.”

  Then she pulled away and looked toward Father Kevin, who had held himself apart from the scene once others had arrived. “And he saved us both.”

  Jason nodded to the priest, then he lifted Abby onto the boat.

  As soon as the man in the boat had Abby sitting down and a blanket around her, Jason returned to Father Kevin.

  Jason faced the priest, which meant his back was to Abby. He put a hand on Father Kevin’s shoulder and leaned close. He was talking so softly Abby couldn’t hear.

  Father Kevin’s head bowed. He covered his eyes with one hand and his shoulders shook. After a moment, he reached inside his jacket and handed something to Jason. Then the two men walked to the boat.

  “I can drive myself back to town,” Father Kevin said as they approached. Abby noticed he kept his gaze on his feet when he spoke.

  “You go with me,” Jason said. His voice wasn’t harsh, but it said he wasn’t going to back down. “We’ll get the van later.”

  Once on board, Father Kevin moved to the bow of the boat, away from everyone. Jason sat next to Abby, pulling her close with one hand and holding Bryce’s hand with the other.

  “It’s going to be okay, son.”

  Bryce started crying. “I did things, Dad—”

  “Shhhhh,” Abby said softly, putting her hand on top of Bryce’s and Jason’s. “Don’t talk now.”

  Bryce looked at her, his eyes clouded with pain and regret.

  Abby smiled and said, “You saved me.”

  Bryce blinked and looked away.

  She had no idea how Bryce had gotten involved with the man who wanted to kill her. But she didn’t want him to say too much now with two officers on the boat.

  When she looked at Jason, she saw tears in his eyes.

  Abby decided she’d do whatever she could to protect both Jason and his son from more heartache.

  CHAPTER 30

  Jason had convinced the police to wait until the next day to take Bryce’s statement. Although his gunshot wound hadn’t required surgery, he didn’t need to be put through the stress of questioning until he’d had some rest. After his lungs had been filled with river water, there was a high likelihood of lung infections. Besides, Toby was safely in custody and Jason wanted to hear it all from Bryce’s lips first. His son might need a lawyer when he spoke to the police.

  Lucy had arrived shortly after they’d gotten to the hospital—hysterical and demanding answers that no one had as yet. She’d left Brenna in the care of her grandparents. Throughout the afternoon, Constance and John had been in close phone contact, monitoring not only Bryce’s medical status but Lucy’s mental state. Jason was thankful for the latter. Anything he said only made her worse.

  Jason had spent thirty minutes on the phone with Bren, giving her the edited, non-nightmare-inducing version of why her brother was in the hospital. A couple of times during the conversation, the reality of what had happened crashed in on him so enormously that he had to stop and take deep breaths before he could go on.

  When Bren had said she couldn’t understand why anybody would want to hurt her brother, Jason had had to bite back the words that threatened to spill forth; that the world was an ugly place filled with greedy and misguided people. Instead he’d told her that he couldn’t understand it, either. By the time he’d hung up, she was as calm as she was going to be until she saw Bryce with her own eyes. And Jason was almost wishing he’d killed Toby Smith.

  At eleven p.m. Jason and Lucy accompanied their son from the ER to a private room. Lucy hadn’t said more than a handful of words to Jason since she’d made it clear that he was not Bryce’s parent or guardian and had no business in the ER at all. Bryce had put a quick stop to that. Lucy had been miffed. Jason was proud.

  Now she walked ahead of him behind the gurney, as if he weren’t there at all.

  Fine with him. He was there for Bryce, not to fight for parental rights with Lucy.

  Once the nursing staff had left, Bryce said, “Mom, I need to talk to Dad for a minute.”

  She couldn’t have looked more stricken if Bryce had slapped her. Her mouth came open and then closed. Her hurt gaze moved from Bryce to Jason and back. Finally, she surprised Jason—and Bryce, too, judging by the look on his face—when she nodded and said, “I’ll go get some coffee.”

  “Did they catch Toby?” Bryce asked as soon as Lucy had gone.

  “Yes.” Jason didn’t tell him that he’d shot the bastard three times.

  “I was so stupid.” His chin weakened slightly as he fought tears and his eyes were clouded with pain medication. “I didn’t know; re
ally I didn’t.”

  “Know what?” Jason asked, stepping closer to the bed. He’d planned on waiting until morning before making Bryce relive the horrors of the day. But Jason sat down; he would listen as long as Bryce needed to talk.

  “That he wanted to hurt Abby. I never… I never would have taken her there if I’d known that.”

  Jason forced himself to ask a question he didn’t want to. “Why did you take her there?”

  Bryce clenched his teeth and looked away. In a small voice, he said, “I wanted her to leave us alone. Toby said we should try and scare her.”

  “Did you slash her tires and vandalize the cemetery on her property?”

  With an audible swallow, Bryce nodded. He kept his face averted. A tear slid down his cheek.

  “Were those Toby’s ideas, too?” Jason shouldn’t offer his son an out, but logic and responsibility were warring with his aching heart.

  Bryce shook his head. Then he looked at Jason again. “Well, not the tires. He suggested the cemetery thing. But I didn’t even know it had anything to do with Abby. It was just a place to get out some frustration.”

  Jason reminded himself of what it was to be seventeen; how emotions dug deep with claws that made pain override all thought, both rational and otherwise.

  “You’ll be accountable for those things,” he said. “You can tell the police tomorrow when you tell them everything else.”

  Bryce nodded. After a long moment, he said, “I think Mom is in trouble.”

  Jason listened with a breaking heart as his son recounted the past week. Jason was achingly proud of Bryce’s willingness to accept responsibility for his part in what had transpired—and furious with Lucy for putting him in the position to misconstrue things in the first place.

  “I wish you’d come to me when you thought she was drinking again,” Jason said.

  “I was afraid you’d take Brenna,” he said softly, his attention focused on his right hand picking at the blanket. “That’s what Mom said you’d do.”

  It took an act of sheer will to keep from marching out of the room and wringing Lucy’s neck. “We’re a family, you and Bren and me. We’ll always be together.” Jason took a breath and blew out his anger. “And you don’t have to worry about your mom being charged with the accident that killed Kyle Robard. She wasn’t there.”

  Bryce’s gaze snapped up. “But she wasn’t home… and she acted all weird. The car was scraped. She lied to the police.”

  “She had other reasons. I’ll let her explain them to you. As for the drinking, she and I will be discussing that. All I want is for you and Bren to be safe.”

  Bryce lowered his gaze and nodded. “I know.”

  “And Bryce,” Jason said.

  Bryce looked up.

  “Your mom and I are not getting back together. It would be bad for all of us.” Jason leaned forward and slipped his hand behind Bryce’s neck. “But I will always be your dad.” He kissed his son on the forehead.

  Bryce nodded. He kept his eyes averted, but Jason saw fresh tears pooled in them. After a second, Bryce sniffed and then said, “Toby said he was paid to kill Abby. Why?”

  Jason thought about the far-reaching ramifications of the investigation that would surely be coming. He didn’t want his son to have any part in it. “Toby works for some really bad people. It had nothing to do with Abby, or you. You two were just collateral damage.”

  A light knock sounded on the door, and Lucy peeked in. “May I come in now?” Her entire demeanor had changed. She seemed almost meek.

  Jason stood, glad for the interruption. He wasn’t sure how much of Father Kevin’s story would become public knowledge, and he didn’t want to tell Bryce more right now. “Sure. I think this guy needs to get some sleep. I’ll be down the hall.”

  Lucy nodded as he passed her going out the door. She said softly, “She’s still here.”

  Jason glanced at Lucy, waiting for the barb, the sarcastic jab. It didn’t come. “Thanks.” He knew Abby was waiting; she’d refused to leave, but his heart still lightened. Right now he needed her; needed to touch her, assure himself she was safe and whole.

  It was late enough that the corridor lights had been dimmed. The only sounds were the soft chatter from the nurses’ station and the drone of a television somewhere up the hall.

  Jason went to the little lounge near the elevators. Abby was alone in the room, dozing in an uncomfortable looking chair.

  He stood there looking at her for a long moment. She wore scrubs and hospital socks. Her elbow was propped on the arm of the chair, her temple rested on her fisted hand. Her hair had been pulled into one long braid that draped over her shoulder. She had a whole new set of bruises on her face. For the second time today, he wished he’d killed the man who’d given them to her.

  He walked over and sat next to her, hoping to hell this was the last time he saw her in a hospital, battered after a traumatic event.

  She roused, blinking, as if disoriented. Then her eyes landed on him and she smiled tiredly.

  “How is he?” she asked, sitting up straighter and stretching her neck.

  Suddenly all of Jason’s words became tangled in his throat. He reached out and rested a hand on either side of her head. He pulled her close, until her lips met his.

  She grasped his wrists, her hands cold and trembling.

  He kissed her long and hard, the taste of her reassuring him that he hadn’t lost what could have so easily been taken today.

  Finally, he ended the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. She laced her fingers behind his neck and they just sat there, blending into one, breathing in and out in unison.

  Whatever lay ahead with Bryce, Jason knew he could deal, because Abby would be there to help him through.

  A moment later, she pulled away and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m glad he’s going to be okay.” She stood up and ran her palms over the thighs of her scrubs. “I’d better be going.”

  He stared up at her in confusion. Then he realized how exhausted she must be.

  “I’ll drive you home.”

  At the word “home,” her eyes clouded. “If you don’t mind, I’ll hang onto that air mattress for a few days… until I can get something better set up in the shop.”

  He stood and reached for her, but she shook her head and backed away.

  “Stay with me, Abby. I need you,” he said.

  “And I’ll be here for you—as a friend. I owe you so much.”

  Anger snapped like lightning in his veins. “Owe me! You don’t owe me anything. I love you.” The admission surprised him, but he realized how true it was. “I love you.”

  The words seemed to hit Abby like a blow. She staggered back a couple of steps. “Jason… I thought I made myself clear. I can never live like a normal woman… a normal couple. I’m offering my friendship. That’s all I can give.”

  “Why?”

  “Nothing’s changed. I still sleepwalk—”

  He took a step closer. “I’m not afraid of you and your sleepwalking.”

  “But I am.” She stepped around him. “Please don’t make this harder for me.” It was a whispered plea that raked across his heart like eagle talons.

  He watched her walk away, his heart sitting bloody and bruised in his chest.

  Abby waited until she stepped into the elevator to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Then she blinked hard, trying to vanquish them completely. She’d been preparing the entire evening to separate herself from Jason. Still it felt as if she’d just skinned herself alive. The pain was all encompassing, raw and stinging.

  This was a before-and-after from which Abby would never recover. The pain might dull, she may grow more accepting, but her heart would never heal.

  When the doors opened on the lobby level, Sergeant Kitterman was standing there.

  “I was just coming up to get you,” he said.

  Her heart settled somewhere around her knees. She’d hoped she might avoid giving her statement until tomorrow. Righ
t now all she wanted was to crawl off and be alone, lick her wounds, and deal with the fact that her time with Jason was over.

  With a nod of resignation, she exited the elevator.

  Kitterman gestured toward the door to the chapel, which was off to the left of the elevator. “Let’s go in here.”

  Abby supposed they’d have as much privacy there as anywhere. Visiting hours were long over.

  Kitterman opened the door and allowed her to go in first. It was dim inside the chapel. A low wattage spotlight shone on a cross on the front wall. There were five rows of empty pews.

  She glanced over her shoulder to Kitterman to ask where he wanted to sit when a shadow in the corner beside the door moved. She tensed, then the silhouette stepped into the light.

  “Father Kevin,” she said. She hadn’t seen him since the police escorted him off the boat.

  Kitterman said, “You have ten minutes. I’ll be right outside.” He turned to Abby. “I’d like to speak to you afterward.”

  She nodded.

  Father Kevin took her elbow and guided her to the rear pew. They sat side by side.

  “It’s so peaceful in here,” he said, his voice wistful.

  “Yes.” She reached over and put her hand over his. “Thank you for saving my life. It sounds like you did it more than once.”

  He turned his eyes toward the illuminated cross. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have been in danger in the first place.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I was sleep-driving. If you hadn’t been out there on that road, I might have killed myself.” As soon as the last words left her lips, she cringed. Jason had said Father Kevin was trying to validate Suicide Road’s name that night, driven by desperation to untangle COC from some illegal activity.

  “That man, the one who…,” she couldn’t bring herself to finish. “He was threatening you, too?”

  Father Kevin nodded. “He was going to shoot you that night in the marsh. I convinced him that since the goal of his employers had been to keep their activities a secret, putting a bullet in an innocent woman on a country road would be counterproductive.”

  “He was close, though,” she said. “He broke out the glass.”