I didn’t smile often, but I forced myself to halt in mid step as the poor dweeb Norbert continues. Plastered with a fake smile I catch up. “Good for you, Norbert. Now I must go.” Leaving him in the dust as my trek home continues without him.
Finally, I can breathe, and return hiding from my life here in hell.
I arrive home unscathed, and once through the front door, my target within sight safe passage to my sanctuary, my room. But no, my moment of solitude averted.
“Grace dear.” Stepping out from the kitchen, we meet in the formal dining room.
“Yes.”
“We have a guest tonight, I think you’ll enjoy his conversation.’
I enjoy isolation.
“He’s a professor of Language and Literature. Also, an accomplished writer. He wants to meet you.”
I search for any recognition that the Mother who raised me, knows I don’t thrive in this type of environment. Why does she persist to force situations upon me that I find unbearable?
“Why?”
“Sweetheart, you yourself are a bestselling author of poetry.”
Must I be reminded of this accomplishment that has imprisoned me? My most inner thoughts sequestered for the world to see. Obviously, the idea was forced upon me. Regret still lingers.
“Right.”
“Please wear one of the pretty dresses I purchased for you.”
“Fine.”
Denied my clothing of choice, and my meal companionship. I’m certain I’ll be expected to engage in conversation, with a complete stranger no less. The thought sickens me.
Finally, alone I enjoy my brief seclusion as I reach for my recently acquired novel Paradise Lost. I’ve vanished within the pages, when a knock pulls me from the serenity of this world to the reality of the presence.
“Come in.” A noticeable sigh is heard as my Father enters.
“Hello, Grace.” His easy-going manner is noticeable strained as he makes his way to the only chair in my room. “How did your finals go today?”
“Fine.” I could tell him I’m on my period, that always makes him squirm.
“That’s not surprising.” A warm smile appears. “About tonight.” Understanding his tactics, a bit more clearly now as I anticipate his next words. He doesn’t want me to embarrass Mother or himself.
“Tonight’s guest is special, we are proposing a collaboration within the university which he holds the deciding vote.” His forearms rest on his knees, our gazes meet. “I think you could learn from this man, you have many things in common.”
His pause is like fingernails on a chalkboard. Just say it.
“As difficult as it may seem, I would appreciate your effort in conversing with him. He’s very knowledgeable, as are you in the field of literature. Impress him, be yourself but make a conscience effort to get to know him.”
I’m weighing my options as he awaits my response. I can’t change my entire being in less than an hour.
“I’ll try.”
“Good.” He says, standing up to leave. “Oh, a reminder from your Mother about a dress?”
“I know.”
“Okay then, we’ll see you down in a bit.” And he gently closes my door. Reminding me of the absence of a lock on my door, what message does that send? Although I may have given them just cause a time or two.
I stand looking at my closet as if the chosen dress will willingly fall at my feet. But no such luck, I reach for items with tags. Three choices, none that define the real me, only the me that my Mother wants me to be. I lay them on my bed, delaying the incompatible choice.
My desk rest upon the far wall, I sit just as my Father had. And cross off another day until my Birthday. Normally I rarely notice events such as this but becoming eighteen is a mild stone I’m welcoming with new found freedom. Seven days.
I turn looking at the three dresses and force a decision. A white summer dress with tiny white pearl beading on the bodice, spaghetti straps, and the rise above the knee, I pair it with sandals. I brush my long blond hair parted in the middle, with straight bangs not to be confused by the lack of style, it was for protection, my shield.
Hearing voices I’m forced to dredge forward, descend the stairs one at a time. I slip through the back to appear as if I’m anxiously awaiting our new guest in the formal living room. Sitting perfectly tall, legs crossed my hands placed over my knee. Theatrical, I admit. If I only had known, I would have run.
The gray billowy clouds slowly drift over the long stretch of highway. Fragments of last night’s storm leaving a gentle reminder in the sky.
Memories flood back to her sensual lips curling into a mesmerizing smile, as we tried to say goodbye. I didn’t want to be anywhere else, except back at my place with Nichole in my bed, and Whisky nudging between us, my pup was jealous and for good reason.
As I stepped into the building I immediately heard blaring voices that echoed from the hallway, as I rounded the corner I was met with Flynn and Cyrus’s heated conversation. Suspicion ran through me as I approach the two angry men. My gaze darting from Flynn to Cyrus.
“Enough already, someone want to tell me what’s going on?”
“I need answers.” Cyrus says, his features harden as he stares at Flynn. Whose gaze swings to mine with an all-knowing glare. “I can’t provide you with intel until you provide me with answers, I can’t do my job if you won’t clue me in.”
“Cyrus, go cool off.” Then turn to my friend. “Flynn, follow me.”
I knew the conversation to come, and it was all my doing. I wasn’t the kind to put one man against the other but until we got a grasp on things this information would be kept between us. Or that was the goal.
We crossed into my office, and the door clicked shut.
“Did you see Nicole Lancaster yesterday?” My gaze swings back to Flynn’s, as I place several files on my desk.
“I did.”
“And?”
“And…. Nothing, we agreed it was safer to keep her out the this until we find of source of the generous donation. You were right, she would be put in a compromising situation if she knew.” I had no intension of confiding in her, she would feel obligated to open a case, report the findings. “What about Cyrus?” I ask.
“Bullshit bureaucracy.” I was met with an irritated glare. “It’s nearly impossible to get intel on the source with limited knowledge, Cyrus’s pissed I won’t offer the subjects name, we may have to confide in him, if we want answers.”
I sat leaning back in my chair and blew out a frustrated breath, contemplating my choices. “Then, we have no choice.” Rolling stiff shoulders from last night’s escapades. “He’s our Intel specialist, if we can’t trust him, we’re doomed anyway, so brief him.”
“Any leads on Myles Carrington?”
“Sadly no.”
“Then put Cyrus on it. It’s a strong possibility Myles Carrington could be responsible for the money landing in my account, but why?”
“Yeah, the why is what’s so fucking scary.”
I wasn’t in the clear, not by a long shot, someone is going to a lot of effort to manipulate the system, someone with money, power, and revenge. Carrington would stop at nothing to try and drag me down, the only problem with his plan was it exposed himself as well. If he took me down I would drag his ass down as well.
“Sir.” Pain swept across his face. “We have unfinished business to take care of.” Flynn made it his mission to protect Grace at any cost, I knew the signs all too well. He’s crossed the line between professional to personal, but who was I to judge?
“She left word she had another flash back, I’d like you to join me there.” Flynn was more concerned with Grace’s well-being than finding the predator.
“And the teacher?”
“Dead end, it’s as if she never existed.”
“Interesting, maybe the memories aren’t real?”
“You sound skeptical, I tend to believe her memories are real. We just need to sort through the details, determ
ine which leads to follow.”
“Of course.” I shouldn’t be surprised, I recognized his interest in her went beyond the norm. “We can leave over lunch break.”
The day flew as a knock on my door diverted my attention. “Come in.” Flynn’s head peeked around the door.
“Ready?” The clock read twelve, I saved my work and shut down my laptop, grabbed my jacket as I followed Flynn to my SUV. Once inside, I revved the engine as we headed towards New Beginning’s Facility.
“You like her.” Flynn said, but it wasn’t a question.
“Who, Nick? Excitement raced through me at the thought of her. “Yeah, I like her.” More than like her and after everything we’d been through, we fit in every way. My insides stirred at the concept. She was classically beautiful; her large liquid brown eyes held such an intelligence and serenity that it was impossible for me not to be held prisoner by them.
We signed in and I’m reminded of exactly why I feel unease stirring under my skin. My treatment for PTSD was intense, I only hope Grace was getting a gentler approach. We walked in silence down the hall and approach Grace’s room, as Flynn steps in first, I follow close behind.
Her gaze drifts across the room and land on Flynn’s and judging by that look on his face, the feelings were mutual.
I watched her as she jumped to her feet and into Flynn’s arms. I admit, that was unexpected. A low grumble of laugher escaped from him as his arms snaked around her small waist. How could I voice my concerns without being a hypocrite, Flynn was playing with fire.
“How are you? Flynn stepped back, his hands rested on her shoulders.
“I’m fine.” She persists but looks could be deceiving. This young woman was anything but fine. Evidence proved that. “Hi Steel.” Her warm smile, genuine, as she sits on her small bed. We take our seats in the only two chairs in the room.
“So, Grace.” His easy-going style coaxing her to reveal her most secret thoughts. “What have you remembered?”
“As I told you, I’m still back in high school. I recall an acquittance, Norbert, he was in the same year as I was.” She reached for her notebook and started whipping through pages, stopping on the one she wrote about Norbert. Her features changed and hardened as she read her own words.
“Also, my parents I remember them, their names elude me. But it’s as if I’m a different person, I don’t recognize myself. And I’m to meet someone, but I don’t know who, or if he’s related to the next several years.”
I could see Flynn, his struggle, his urge to reach out and comfort her, but he was held down by our training, engrained in us to allow the story to unfold on its own merit.
“I was considered peculiar by my class mates, isolated by the world around me, or at least that’s how I felt.” Her gaze drifted to Flynn. “I wasn’t …”
“What Grace?”
“I wasn’t kind to him, I couldn’t stand the sight of him. Norbert, that is. He was like me, an outcast yet I had no sympathy or compassion. I felt superior and shooed him away as if he were a pesky fly. I was awful.” Tears streamed her face. “I don’t know who that girl is.”
I noticed the look was laced with such remorse and contempt for her younger self, it only caused the case to become more complex. I was scrambling for anything that might hint as to what happened, any lead was something, but this told me nothing. We need her to progress later in life, and maybe it was all too much for her. We may never get to the traumatic events that lead us to that faithful night we’d met.
“I know I walked home from school, and that I lived with both my parents.” Flynn was at her side her hands grasped by his.
What I needed was the perpetrator, the fucker is out there. Was he searching for her? Or had he moved on to the next victim?
Flynn stares at me as if reading my mind. I stepped out of the room looking for the attendant on duty once I found the nurse on duty I approached, hiding the tension that worked its way into my core.
“Nurse,” Her nametag read Jane White LPN., she turns her gaze up towards mine. “Miss White may I speak to you concerning Grace’s treatment?” Her features were distant, unapproachable.
“Are you authorized?”
“Yes, Steel Archer.” I’d made sure of it, when Flynn and I registered her here we wanted full control, set her up like a voluntary family medical leaving all treatment under our control. She looked from her chart up to my eyes, in question.
“She’s in both group therapy, one on one with her Dr. and participates in the activities.”
“I want to discharge her.”
“That’s not up to me.”
“I know, it’s up to me.” I knew policy all too well. “Prepare her discharge papers immediately, we’re leaving today.”
“That will require a Dr’s…” I cut in.
“That’s a formality, we’re leaving in thirty.”
I walked the long hall as if a ghost called my name, stealing my breath until I finally reach Grace’s room. “Flynn.” My head jerked towards the hall, looking for peering eyes, as Flynn joined me. Intent on pulling her out of here.
“Flynn, Grace is not progressing here in these surroundings. I want to put her under your protection.”
“But I don’t understand.”
“I’m bringing in Dr. Theodore Grant, I can’t think of anyone better suited than him, to pull these memories out safely. “As we whispered in the hall, Flynn’s silence was noticeable, I felt his hesitance in his current state, he knew where I was going with this plan.
“Grace trusts you, there’s a connection” I saw how blown away he was by the idea. But there was more, his battle within himself, I recognized his plight. Crossing the line would be tempting but also it may indeed be exactly what we need to crack her case wide open.
“She’ll stay with you, she’ll be safe.”
“I’m not so sure, Steel.”
“It can’t be helped, it’s our best option if we want to help her. Go tell her to pack because we’re leaving.”
The last thing I wanted was a run in with Nurse White, but too my surprise she cooperated fully as I signed the documents and headed towards the doors of freedom, cruelly reminding myself it wasn’t my freedom to celebrate.
I eased into the driver’s seat, as Flynn helped Grace with her small bag. Then he joined me in the front passenger side. Once safely in, I peeled out of the parking lot attempting to get as far away as possible.
“So, what’s the plan?”
“You, are my plan.”
“Steel, you act like I walk on water, what makes you believe I’ll be any more effective than New Beginnings?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Glancing through my rear-view mirror, the deep frown burrowed on Grace’s face affirming her own doubts, concerning my plan.
“There’s a connection, it’s undeniable.” I was going with my gut.
Silence permeated the air as I drove to Flynn’s brick home. It once belonging to his uncle who he cared for until his death, which is a familiar story that bonded us. The old brown stone was minutes from our facility, the city suited Flynn, where as I needed the solitude of the mountains.
He unlocked the door to his place and stepped in, holding the door for both Grace and I. Their gaze met as sparks flew, the unknown source didn’t take precedence over her recovery.
“The guest room is down the hall.” Flynn says, bending to pick up her small bag, which held everything she owned. They disappear, as Flynn returns alone.
“Am I to leave her here alone while I work?”
“My thought was to split your time here and at the office.”
“Uh huh.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Is that a problem? You’re some piece of work Steel.” My easy-going friend yanks my arm pulling me into the kitchen, fire in his eyes. “You know Steel, I know you see it, how she looks at me, how I look at her. I’m fighting it, but you just dropped a lamb into the lion’s den.”
“I trust you, Flynn.”
>
“What does that mean?” He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “Keep your filthy hands off the young, and I mean very young woman.”
“Okay, calm down I haven’t seen you this worked up since we lost the men.” I rested my hand on his shoulder, our gaze locked. “And even then, you never were rattled, you were your own stoic self.”
I watched as he pulled away, paced like a caged animal. He ran his hand through his dark hair. I caught his attention when I opened the refrigerator and pulled out two beers. “Listen, our first priority is to her safety, you’re the man for that.” We clink bottles-out of habit.
“I’m confident you can protect her, make her feel safe, because of your connection. Dr. Grant, he can pull the necessary information from her.” He takes a long pull from the bottle, resting it on the counter then drags the back hand over his wet lips.
“Keep in mind, she’s fragile she may be transferring her feelings to you as a coping mechanism. And her memory may play tricks on her. Simply because you want it to be true, doesn’t make it true. I trust you’ll do the right thing.” I said calmly as possible.
“These are for sleep, I lifted her meds from the cart without anyone being the wiser. Let’s say good night.”
He crosses the kitchen and turns down the long hall to find Grace in her flannel pajamas, putting her two tops in the drawer. “Everything okay in here?” A smile broadens her face when their gaze meets.
“More than okay.” She answers. I watch Flynn administer her medications, as she climbs under the covers. It wasn’t long before the effects kicked in. “Look closer.” She said. “You’ll find the answers.” She mumbles, then her eyes slide closed.
Flynn’s gaze darts over his shoulder towards my confused look. “Look closer?” He repeats with the same confusion, then leans over to cover her up, tucks her in safely. We both stand in the hall, admiring the broken angel. I knew Flynn’s resolve was just blown to smithereens.
Hard as Steel: Book four ( Surviving Series ) Page 6