The following morning, still nothing from Theo.
But we did have two visitors. The first was Theo’s mother.
She couldn’t even make it into the room without crying. Her eyes were filled with so much grief. So much pain. I understood how she felt. Izzy was sitting on the sofa when she walked in, and as soon as she saw her grandmother, she hopped out of her seat and rushed for her.
“Oh—Grammy!” Izzy sobbed into her grandmother’s chest. Rita. That was her name. I could remember it when she showed me the house. The realtor. A beautiful woman with eyes just as brown as Theo’s, but much gentler, eyelashes thickened with mascara.
“Oh, it’s okay, sweet girl,” Rita cooed to Izzy. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.” They held each other, and moments later, Rita picked up her head and caught my eye. “Oh,” she sighed. “You come here, too!”
I forced a small smile, pushing slowly out of my seat as she extended her right arm, still holding Izzy with her left. It was nice not to be judged. I figured she knew who I was and why I was here. Theo had told her about me many times. I’d even met her once, before she sold me my home, when I was younger and Izzy and I were still the best of friends.
And though she knew I was the girl—the young girl—sleeping with her only son, she held no judgment. She only provided love. And something about that really made the crack in my chest grow an inch wider.
I hugged both her and Izzy as she whispered to us that it would be okay. It took us a while to get our shit together. When I looked up, Rita was smiling and I honestly couldn’t understand how she could during a time like this.
“My Benji is a good man. He always has been. He’s had such a hard life,” she whispered to us. “But he has always, always been a strong guy. He will pull through this. I know he will. He used to fight so many battles for me, but now it’s time to see if he’ll fight his own. I know you ladies are scared. I know it hurts—trust me, I know. But he’s in there and he won’t quit. So don’t give up on him for a second.” She grabbed Izzy’s chin to pick her head up. “Do you understand? Not for a second.” She rested a warm palm on my cheek and I nodded with a small smile.
“I won’t,” I murmured and I meant it.
An hour later, Izzy and Rita went to the cafeteria to have lunch that I’m certain they weren’t going to eat. I waited in the room, and that’s when I heard another knock at the door.
Our second guest, Detective Wallace. I perked up a bit when he stepped in, expecting great news, but by the grim look on his face, I knew it wasn’t going to make me happy.
“I stopped by to give a personal update. He was at the house you shared today after being released. Caught packing some things, probably to try and make a run for it—or prepare for it at least. We brought him into custody for questioning again, but I’m afraid we can’t arrest him. His car was clean. Not a scratch on it.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips. “I bet this makes me look like a complete lunatic, huh?” I scoffed.
“Actually, no.” When he said that, I picked up my head and met his eyes. “Miss Knight,” he started, rubbing his hands together, “I’ve seen a lot of innocent people and I’ve seen a lot of guilty people. The innocent are usually easy to point out. They’re afraid for their lives—don’t know how to act and think any little thing they say will have them tossed in prison. Those are usually the ones we think twice about. But the ones that act cool, casual, and collected about an attempted murder accusation—well, I’m not going to say all, but most of them are indeed guilty. Mr. Martinez was way too calm. He said he knew of Mr. Black and even admitted that he knew about your affair with Mr. Black a few years back and even about what you two share now.”
I swallowed thickly.
“He was too sure of himself. Too prepared for the questions—like he knew they were coming. We let him go because we had to, but something tells me it won’t be my last time seeing him. We have people out looking for evidence now. Around the cliff, on Mr. Black’s boat, and a few other places. I also have an unmarked car on him that is off the record. Paying for him personally. Just because his car was as clean as a whistle, doesn’t mean another one won’t be. Just wanted to let you know that I’ve got my eye on him. He won’t get away with this—not while I’m still standing.”
I rubbed my arm, nodding. “Wow. Thank you, Detective Wallace. I appreciate knowing that.”
He nodded. “If you hear from him, you let me know. You have my number. Don’t hesitate to call.” He peered over at Theo and then pushed his lips together, his beard overshadowing his lips. “Take care of yourself in the meantime.”
I nodded once and with that he was gone, out of the door and leaving me feeling worse off than I had before.
Chapter 45
Chloe
Twelve Days Later
He still wasn’t awake.
Not one shift, groan, or whisper.
The beeping machines had become a tune in my head that I couldn’t get out.
I never left the hospital once—not since leaving the police station that night. Izzy had to bring me clothes so I could shower at the hospital, but of course those showers didn’t last for longer than five minutes. I didn’t want to miss the chance to catch him moving.
He had been in a coma for fourteen days now, and things still weren’t looking up. They weren’t sure how much damage had been caused, but were glad that he’d worn a helmet.
I was glad too. Theo normally wouldn’t have worn one, but he always did at night. They said the helmet prevented major trauma to the head and brain, but that there was still a likely chance he could wake up and not remember much.
I needed him to remember everything.
I needed him to remember the first day we met, when I was only twelve years old and developed a raging crush on him. When I turned seventeen and made excuses to come to Izzy’s house and spend the night, just to lust over his body. How he walked around without a shirt on, showing off his ink and skin.
How he gave me such trusting smiles whenever I visited.
When I was nineteen, and Janet died, and he was a complete wreck.
When he was in the garage those nights, spiraling, and I helped him up to his bedroom each time, until the one night when he wanted more than just my help. When he took my virginity and turned me into a woman. When I had completely fallen in love with Theodore Black and I hated admitting it, because he was my best friend’s father.
And his wife had just passed away.
And he was a wreck.
But I didn’t want to let go.
I especially couldn’t let go when he took me in the park on the grass—when it’d felt like he’d made the sweetest, most passionate love to me.
When I left for college and didn’t hear from him for nearly two years. And they were the two most dreadful years of my life, bearing a secret like ours. But then coming back and seeing him again for the first time.
And doing the same thing with him that I swore I never would.
I squeezed his hand tight, brushing his hair back. He hadn’t moved at all. For twelve days, he was stuck. So still—almost lifeless.
His right leg was broken as well as his left arm. A large gash was on the right half of his face. His lip busted. Eye blackened. He was healing, but he looked so bad.
Each day was a sluggish, slow defeat.
Every morning I woke up on that uncomfortable couch, expecting to see his beautiful brown eyes, only to be greeted with sealed eyelids and heavy, rhythmic, machine-assisted breathing.
Heat crept to my eyes, and soon I felt that fire spilling down my cheeks, over my lips. I squeezed his hand tighter, resting my forehead on his arm, listening to the machines beep. Listening to him hardly breathing.
“Theo,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure how many times I’d called his name. It was all I could do. Cry. Beg. “You have to wake up now. Please. I know you’re stronger than this. You always have been.” Picking
my head up, I slid my chair in closer and stroked his hair back again. It’d grown out. He hadn’t had a haircut since he came back to Bristle Wave.
“You don’t have to wake up for me,” I continued, voice soft, “but for Izzy. And for our baby. For yourself. I know you can hear me in there. You’re free, remember? Free to do whatever you want. All you have to do is wake up. Be free with me, Theo.” My voice cracked, the tears much thicker now. “We won. He didn’t. They got him. He tried, but he’ll never hurt you again. You or me.”
When he didn’t move, not even a twitch, I shook my head and stood, pressing my lips to his forehead. He was still warm, at least.
And then I rested my ear on his chest. I listened to his heartbeat, the familiar steady beat. I felt his breath flowing through my hair, on my skin, as I looked up at him. I couldn’t control my tears. The emotion was eating me alive. I felt the blame for this, like a tangible weight on my chest. It never would have happened if I’d just told him from the start about Sterling.
It was all my fault.
“If you’re lost in there, trying to find your way out, search for freedom. If you feel guilty about any of this, don’t. If you feel like you should have done something, you couldn’t. You didn’t know and I blame myself for that. I just . . . I want you here. I want you to share the future with me—the future we struggled for.”
The machines kept beeping. His breaths were still slow.
Nothing.
Nothing but silence in return.
My heart cracked in my chest and I clutched him tight, sobbing like I had the very first night.
I needed him. I needed him more than words could explain. We’d finally done things right. He couldn’t be taken away from me like this. The pain was already too much, just seeing him lying there, knowing I couldn’t do a damn thing, was breaking me to pieces.
But if he was gone for good?
I couldn’t bear it. I wouldn’t be able to live with it. Because only days ago, our future was so clear. It was so bright and warm and welcoming. It was there for us, all we had to do was catch it.
I brought my fingers down to his, slinking down in my seat.
Minutes went by.
An hour.
Two hours.
As badly as I wanted to give up on the idea that he was coming back, I couldn’t. I had faith—even though that faith had dwindled to a small speck of light in the dark.
Three hours now, and at three hours I wept, my cheek rested on his arm, fingers still clasping his.
But then I felt it.
The twitching of his fingers. One by one, they moved.
I gasped, staring down at our hands, and then at his toes. They wiggled.
He squeezed my hand. Lightly, but it was a squeeze I had been waiting on for fourteen long, miserable days.
His eyelids fluttered, struggling to peel open.
He looked right at me, brown eyes glassy.
He looked right at me, as if I was the most beautiful woman in the world. Like he always did when he saw me. Like he knew exactly who I was—like he’d never forgotten.
And his words—his voice. The voice I thought I might never hear again filled the empty solitude of this room. Still so deep. Still his.
His words filled me to the brim. His small, gentle smile made my heart both ache and heal all at once.
“Oh my God,” I sobbed, unable to fight my smile or the monsoon of tears.
“There she is,” he rasped. “There’s my Little Knight.”
Chapter 46
Theo
Five Days Later
“He’s lucky he’s in jail now.” I grunted as I adjusted on the crutches. The nurse helped me steady myself, but I held one hand up. I’d been on crutches too many times to count before. This was nothing new, but this kind of pain was off the charts. “If he was still out there, I’d find him and kill him my damn self.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you can’t now, isn’t it?” Chloe laughed, slinging our bags on her shoulder. She came up to me, patting me on the chest. “You look better. Glad you actually listened and stayed the five days they told you to.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I mumbled. “But I’m ready to go now. I want real food, no more of that bland shit they’ve been feeding me.”
She giggled. “Come on. Iz has the car waiting.”
It was hard to settle in after the wreck. The first three weeks were hell. Two of my ribs were broken, my damn leg and arm. I couldn’t do much. Couldn’t drive, couldn’t cook. I couldn’t even walk the beach that was right in our backyard, but Chloe made me comfortable until I healed. Because of him, I had the ugliest scar right above my jawline, but Chloe seemed to find it “sexy.”
“You have to relax, Theo,” Chloe said, helping me sit on the couch. “I can handle dinner. I know it’s not as great as yours, but it’s better than ordering a bunch of takeout.”
I laughed. “I feel so damn useless. Let me help chop something at the table at least.”
“No,” she sighed, lifting my broken leg and resting it on the couch. “You relax here and wait until Izzy gets back with the hot compresses. When she does, I’ll take you back upstairs and warm those muscles. All the muscles.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“That sounds nice.” I grabbed her chin and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for looking out for me. Love you.”
“Love you more.”
Chloe filled me in on everything that happened: about how Sterling showed up the day before we left for San Francisco and her not wanting to add to my burdens when I was heading to face my ex-wife. I really wish she would have told me he was there that day. I would have made a trip over there as soon as she’d filled me in, and pummeled his fucking face in.
It would have been settled then. He would have been the one in the fucking hospital, not me. Threatening her was a threat to my unborn child, and I wouldn’t have stood for that shit for a second, no matter what I had going on in my life.
And the shit with Janet? I found it hard to accept, but in retrospect, I should have thought about it. Chloe mentioned he was in a gang—the same gang I used to be in when I was young.
I’d never mentioned to the cops that I had been in the gang. They would have found some way to link the murder to me, and I would have been tossed in jail for it. Accused of something I never, ever would have done to the mother of my daughter.
But all this time, it was that sneaky fuck Sterling. I knew I had a reason not to like him. Hell, I hated him. Not only for taking both my women from me when I had them, but for knowing he was probably the reason Janet was dead, and tried to murder me. He was linked to this. Fucking psycho.
He was watching and waiting for the right moment to strike. Waiting until I was alone in the dark. He wasn’t driving his car. No, his car was squeaky clean, so I was told. Probably why it took them several days before they could lock him up.
They had no proof he’d done anything—only allegations from Chloe—which didn’t look good because she was his ex-fiancé. But days later, while I was still out cold and had all my loved ones worried, a photographer called the station and reported there was an abandoned car on an empty lot next to their home.
The photographer thought someone was stalking his family. He’d never seen the vehicle parked there before and he was smart to call the cops instead of trying to handle it himself.
They found the front bumper was damaged; a fragment of Ol’ Charlie’s exhaust pipe was stuck in the grill. And of course Sterling’s DNA was found inside, as well as Margie’s, but we all knew she wasn’t the accuser.
Her DNA was there because it was her damn car. His mother, who was in hospice care. What kind of sick, twisted shit was that? They were certain he was going to get rid of the car for good once he wasn’t on Detective Wallace’s radar anymore.
I was fucked up, for sure. Every single part of me ached and cried in pain, but I was alive, he was in, and never getting out again, and I couldn’t have been more thankful for that.
&nbs
p; The best news was that during the trials for Sterling, Sheila had finally answered her phone and heard about it through Phil. She swore she wouldn’t tamper with the negotiations after hearing the bad news. She was going to disappear for sure.
Perhaps it was guilt. She admitted that she’d wished something bad would happen to me or Chloe, and it did. Her heart wasn’t as icy as she wanted it to be.
Because the negotiations remained unbothered, I was sent the approval for divorce by late fall. It was settled and I was officially free.
I’d been through a lot of shit—shit that I never thought was worth fighting for, but with Chloe it was always worth the battle and always worth the risk.
I’d gone from being a tainted, fucked up mess to falling in love with an untainted and beautiful being.
We were on our way. Creating this future.
It was ours for the taking now. We’d won.
Fuck yes, we’d won.
Chapter 47
Chloe
Christmas Eve
Things had settled down a lot since Theo’s recovery. His divorce was final so he wasn’t as stressed as he had been before.
Sterling was charged and rotting away in a prison somewhere—I really didn’t care where. Sheila was true to her word, and hadn’t bothered Theo since the divorce was finalized. We’d even seen on Facebook that she had a new boyfriend, only two weeks after the divorce was final.
Good for her.
We were good now. Minus my bloating, fatigue, waves of nausea, and the growing belly I had to tote everywhere with me, everything was ten times better. I wouldn’t have traded the symptoms for the world, because something amazing was coming out of it. We were going to find out the gender soon, and I couldn’t wait.
Forever, Mr. Black Page 23