by Lisa Bilbrey
“Mrs. Davis,” Detective Benson said, narrowing the gap between them. He shifted his attention to the paramedic kneeling on the bed behind her. “She okay?”
“She’ll live,” he said. “Probably needs a couple of stitches, but it’s superficial. No signs of a concussion, but we’ll take her in just to be sure.”
“I’m fine,” Elle insisted and tried to stand, but the paramedic grabbed her shoulder and forced her back onto the bed.
“You have an open head wound. You’re going in.”
Elle sighed, but didn’t argue. There wasn’t any point.
“Mrs. Davis, how did you know Thomas Warner was here?”
Elle bit her lip before admitting, “I didn’t.”
“Then why were you here?” Detective O’Reilly asked.
“I, um, I received a note from . . . the person who took him, who destroyed my car, and who tried to kill my husband.”
“A note?” Detective Benson asked, raising an eyebrow. “And what did this ‘note’ say?”
“It said to meet them here and nobody else would get hurt.”
“Meet who?”
Elle sighed. “I don’t know. The note told me to come to this room. When I got here, I thought nobody as here. Figured it was just another part of their sick game, but then I heard a noise from the bathroom. That’s when I found Thomas.”
“And you didn’t see anyone else?”
Elle shook her head. “I thought it was just the two of us until someone hit me on the back head.”
“And you didn’t see who it was?”
“No, my attention was on Thomas, on getting him help,” Elle insisted. The two detectives shared a look. “I was on the phone with 911 when they hit me, for fuck sake!”
Elle pushed the paramedic away from her and reached for her cane as she stood up. “Now, unless you’re planning on arresting me, I’d like to go check on my friend.”
“Of course,” Detective Benson said, moving out of the way. There was something in the way he spoke that irked Elle, but she opted to ignore it for now. She had bigger fish to fry.
The paramedic led her out to the ambulance, and helped her climb up next to Thomas. His eyes opened, and he looked at her.
“Elle,” he croaked. “Elle . . . They . . . they know . . . they know you.”
“Who knows me?” she asked, but Thomas’s eyes closed once again.
When the ambulance rolled up to the emergency room, Elle quickly hopped out. She followed Thomas’s stretcher into the hospital, but was directed to a different trauma room by one of the nurses.
Sighing, Elle settled on the edge of the examination table, knowing it would be a while before anyone got around to her head injury. Thomas was the priority.
Still, felt like hours passed before the door to her room opened. Instead of a nurse or doctor, though, Elle looked up to find Leigh standing there.
“Is Thomas okay?” Elle asked.
“No,” she said, stepping into the room and letting the door close behind her. “He’s . . . he’s not anywhere close to being okay, Elle. Doctor said he . . . said he has been tortured. They found cuts all over his body. Burns from, what they think, are cigars. Can’t be sure, though, as Thomas won’t speak to us.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Elle murmured.
“He keeps saying your name,” she said, and Elle once again found herself shocked. “Why is that?”
“I . . . how am I supposed to know? It’s probably just because I was the one who found him.”
“Yeah, I thought that, too,” Leigh said, crossing her arms in front of her. “But then I asked myself how you knew where he was.”
Elle closed her eyes. She hadn’t shared with Leigh or Tyson the connection between Thomas’s disappearance and Derek’s accident. They were under enough stress and she didn’t want to add more. Besides, the police knew.
“Elle, did you hurt him?” Leigh’s sudden and abrupt question had her gasping, and then wincing as pain filled her head. “Did you? Did you take Thomas and torture him?”
“No!” Elle snapped. “I would never hurt Thomas!”
“Then how did you know where he was?” she pleaded. “How, Elle? Fucking tell me how!”
“I . . . I . . .” Elle stammered. “Whoever took Thomas is the same person who crashed into Derek. They tried to kill him, they destroyed my car, they . . . they left me note that said to meet them there and nobody else would be hurt. I swear, Leigh, I had no idea that Thomas was there. If I had, I would have called the police.”
“Do you know who took him?”
“No,” she said. “I swear to you, Leigh, I don’t know.”
Leigh nodded. “And you’re okay? One of the cops said you got hurt.”
“It’s nothing,” she said, quietly.
“I’ve got to get back to Thomas and Ty.”
“Of course. I hope he’s okay. Tell him I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.”
Leigh turned and walked out of the room without saying anything else, which hurt more than she thought. Leigh actually thought she was responsible for Thomas’ torment. Why, though? Why would she think Elle would hurt him?
Elle dropped her hand onto her thigh, groaning when she saw the smears of blood on her clothes. The door to her room opened once more. This time it was a doctor, but Callum was right behind him. He brushed past the doctor and rushed to Elle’s side, scooping her into his embrace. The dam broke, and Elle’s tears fell without care. Thomas had been beaten and abused, and why? Because he cared about Elle.
“Shh, baby, you’re okay,” Callum murmured, sliding his arm around her waist and placing a palm against the side of her face. “You are okay, right?”
“No,” she admitted, perhaps for the first time in a long time.
“Does your head hurt, Mrs. Davis?” the doctor asked, drawing attention to the fact that he was in the room with them.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
He smiled. “Dr. Danvers.”
“I’d say it was nice to meet you, but I’d be lying.”
He smiled, but didn’t say anything as he moved back behind the table and started his examination.
“The paramedics said you don’t know what you were hit with?”
“Just something hard,” she said, quietly. “Is it bad?”
“Not really. I don’t even think it will need stitches. I’ll use some skin glue. Won’t be able to wash your hair for five days, but at least I won’t have to shave too much of your hair.”
“I appreciate that,” she murmured.
“Did you lose consciousness” Dr. Danvers asked.
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I never passed out.”
“Okay,” he said, moving around the table and standing in front of her. He pulled out a small penlight and shone it in her eyes, lifting her eyelids one at a time. “You might have a mild concussion, but it’s nothing to worry about. You’ll have a headache for a while.”
Dr. Danvers dropped his penlight into the pocket of his lab coat. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to glue your wound together, and then we can get you out of here.”
“Thank you, Dr. Danvers,” Callum said, offering his hand.
“You’re welcome.”
They shook for a minute before Dr. Danvers left. The second the door was closed, Callum moved away from Elle, turning to face her. He was livid.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he hissed, but when she started to reply, he spoke over her. “You weren’t thinking. Leaving the hospital like that? No note, nothing? Do you have any idea how scared we were? Derek damn near busted his gut open when we got the call from Detective Benson that you’d been found!”
“I’m sorry,” she said, quietly. “But I couldn’t tell you where I was going.”
“You could have,” he said. “But once again, you don’t trust us enough to be honest. This is just like when Trixie came after you six years ago.”
>
“No, this is worse,” Elle argued. “At least when Trixie set her eyes on me, she didn’t hide behind creepy fucking notes and scratched cars. She didn’t kidnap people I care about, or try to kill them with her car. This nut job is way worse than that fucking bitch!”
The door to the room opened as Dr. Danvers reentered. He shifted his attention from her to Callum and back. “Do I need to come back?”
“Yes,” Callum said, while Elle replied with a firm, “No.”
“You’re fine,” she added, ignoring the scowl on Callum’s face.
Dr. Danvers snorted, but didn’t say anything as he set up his tray of instruments and draped a sterile cloth over Elle’s head. Tears slipped down her face that had nothing to do with the pain of her injury.
It only took him about five minutes to numb her head, apply the glue, and clean up his mess. Before he left, he placed her discharge papers on the bed, told her to call her primary care physician if she started having blinding headaches, noticed any redness around the wound, or became short of breath, as that might indicate a blog clot.
As soon as he was gone, Callum was standing in front of her, his hands on either side of her face.
“I will not let you sacrifice yourself for us,” he declared. “And I will not stand by while some crack pot with a hard on terrorizes you. And you cannot do this without us, Elle. We’re a family. Me, you, Derek, Sadie, the girls — we’re a fucking family, and we will not let anyone hurt you.”
“And if you can’t stop them?” she asked.
“I will, even if that means I have to kill them myself.”
Elle knew with every fiber of her being that Callum would honor his word, but what if her stalker killed him first?
Ten
Elle stared at the numbers on her computer monitor, trying to make sense of them. Though, she hadn’t really been focusing on them. It was just before seven in the morning, and she had already been at the office for half an hour.
The past week had been tense and stressful. Members of the press had been staked out in front of the company, bombarding everyone who came in or out with questions. It hadn’t taken long for them to learn of Elle’s involvement in Thomas’s rescue.
Not only had the press been all over her, but the police had questioned her twice more over the last five days. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they viewed her as a suspect, or at least connected to whoever had taken Thomas.
Thomas, Elle thought.
She hadn’t spoken to Leigh or Tyson since Leigh all but accused Elle of torturing her husband. Elle knew that Thomas had been released from the hospital three days ago. Callum had told her in passing, as he did everything anymore.
He was still angry with her, as were Derek and Sadie. When Callum and Elle arrived back at the hospital, Sadie pushed her against the wall, sobbing and screaming about Elle being reckless and stupid, accusing her of not loving them anymore. Derek’s treatment was worse. He simply refused to speak to her. Elle would have rather him yell at her than give her the silent treatment.
Not that she was helping. She found herself using any excuse to leave for work before them, to avoid family times. Derek was supposed to be released from the hospital that morning, but instead of being there with her lovers to welcome him home, she was hiding in her office, trying in vain to focus on quarterly reports.
As if her lovers’ anger wasn’t enough, the rest of their family hadn’t held back in expressing their feelings, either. Helina and James chided her and called her a child. Claudia and Bruce called her reckless, while Lydia, Ivy, Nick, and Lucia had all decided not speaking to her at all was a better solution. Their anger hurt, but they didn’t understand how scared she was all the time.
Elle’s attention was pulled from her computer when she heard the elevator doors open. Automatically, her hand reached for something to defend herself with, her fingers curling around her stapler. Standing, she released a deep breath as her chair pushed backward.
With a tight grip on her cane and the stapler, Elle hobbled across her office and slowly opened her door, almost expecting someone to be standing on the other side. There wasn’t, of course.
Elle stepped into the hallway, looking left and then right. Just as she was about to turn and go back into her office, she heard a low whistle followed by a laugh.
“Who’s there?” she cried out, slowly creeping down the hallway. Just as she reached the corner, Samuel came strolling around, bumping into her and sending her flying to the floor. “AHHHHH!”
“Shit, Elle, I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for her.
Elle pushed his hands away, scrambled to her feet, and rushed down to her office. She slammed the door behind her and pressed her body against the wall. Tears ran rampant down her face, her heart raced, and she struggled to breathe.
“Elle, sweetheart,” Samuel called out, knocking on the door to her office. “Can I come in?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice shaking.
The door crept open and Samuel stepped inside, looking around until he spotted her against the wall. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.”
“There’s someone else out there,” she whimpered. “I heard them.”
“That was just me coming off the elevator,” he argued, reaching for her.
“Don’t touch me,” she snarled, moving away from him. “I heard them. A whistle and a laugh. I fucking heard them!”
“Sweetheart,” Samuel said, softly. “There’s nobody else out there. I promise.”
Elle shook her head, dropping her stapler onto her desk. “No, no, I . . . I heard them.”
“Mmhmm.”
“I did!” she insisted. “I . . . I’m not lying.”
“Not saying you are,” he quipped. “How long have you been here?”
“What?” Elle asked. “I don’t know. A while.”
“And, um, when was the last time you got some sleep?” he questioned, speaking slow and deliberate.
“Last night,” she lied.
Well, half-lied. She had slept the night before, but only for a few hours before being rattled by a nightmare, and she spent the next few hours imagining every sound possible. She had gotten tired of just lying in bed, which was why she came to work so early. It beat having her lovers glare at her for keeping them awake.
“I’m not making this up!”
“Never said you were,” he stated, putting his hands up in front of him. “But maybe — just maybe — you fell asleep and dreamed that you heard someone whistling and laughing.”
“No.” Elle bit the inside of her lip. “No, no, I was awake. I was working. Finally got around to reviewing the quarterly reports. That’s when I heard the elevator, and when I went to go see who was here, I heard . . .”
Elle trailed off when she realized how crazy she sounded. “You know what? Just forget it.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” he scoffed. “You should go home. Take a nap, eat a real meal, and maybe even take a shower.”
“Are you saying I stink?” Elle groused.
“Yes,” he laughed, but when she didn’t laugh with him, he sighed. “Of course not. I’m saying that you’re losing your fucking mind, and you need to chill before you lose everything.”
“Wow, Samuel,” she muttered, harshly. “Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.”
“Oh, you don’t want me to do that.”
“No?”
He shook his head, folding his arms in front of him.
“Go ahead. I fucking dare you.”
Samuel snorted and dropped his hands to his hips. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Duly noted.”
“You’re a workaholic. You put this company before everything else. And I get it. You have a lot of people depending on you, a lot of families, but in the process, your own family is suffering. Your daughters are growing up and you’re missing it!”
“Missing it?” Elle argued. “I’m not missing anything. I’m with them
all the time.”
“No, being in the same house, or even the same room, isn’t being with them. They need your attention, Elle, and you’re always worrying about the company and deadlines and budget reports. And I get it. I do, because for the better part of my life, I sat in that chair and let this place consume every moment of my life. I missed so much of Callum’s childhood. Hell, Elle, I didn’t even realize that he was bi-sexual!”
“So, what am I supposed to do? Three hundred employees depend on me to make this place successful, to make sure that payroll can continue to cut their checks every two weeks. Jim from legal, Teddy from rural development, the Asciari Brothers. They have ten crews alone that are depending on us to feed their families, to provide healthcare, life insurance, contributions toward their retirements.”
“And you are,” he said, heatedly. “The company has grown three times over since I gave it to you, but, Elle, you can’t do this alone. Maybe it’s time that I stepped back up and took on some of the responsibilities.”
“You want me to give you back the company?” Elle asked, frowning.
“No, not give it back,” he said. “Just let me help. Give me a couple of departments.”
Elle sighed, shaking her head.
“It doesn’t make you weak to need help.”
“Doesn’t it?” she countered. “You ran this place for thirty plus years and didn’t need help.”
“Oh, I needed plenty of help,” he countered. “I was just too stupid to admit it and it nearly cost me my family on more than one occasion. Don’t make my mistakes.”
“You really think I’m losing them?” she asked, tears lacing every word.
“No, no, I don’t think Derek, Callum, or Sadie will ever let you go, but they’ll resent you for picking work over them.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair,” he said, quietly. “Just think about it, okay?”
Elle nodded.
“I’ve gotta run. I only stopped by because I left my latest report on the park on my desk,” he told her, reaching for the doorknob. Pausing, he looked back at her. “You really heard someone out there?”