Saving Me (Finding You #3)

by Amanda Mackey

  “Thank you, Joseph.” My smile was strained as he left.

  “Now,” continued Nancy. “Let’s get your bladder emptied and then I’ll have some lunch brought to you.”

  Nancy drew the curtain around the bed to allow privacy in case anyone else walked in.

  She positioned the bed pan underneath me as best she could, ignoring my grunts of pain, and then moved to the other side of the curtain.

  At first I didn’t think I’d be able to go, like maybe my bladder was past it, but after a minute, relief gushed through me as all the pressure in my lower belly started to release.

  At least some of the discomfort was easing.

  Once that was taken care of and the waste had been removed, I settled back under the covers to await lunch. Joseph’s words bombarded my brain in a cacophony of riddles that begged to be solved.

  John was dead. Kyle had killed him. Kyle had been at the cabin but hadn’t seen me. Joseph was here at the hospital.

  If all this was true, what part had the police played in the saga and why hadn’t they been the ones to kill or arrest John?

  Would someone please give me some answers?

  I analyzed John’s death. This was what everyone had wanted. Could the nightmare finally be over? He truly wasn’t breathing? Would his death finally offer me the salvation I had been searching for on my journey to Sapphire Island? My parents were now safe. I was safe. A divorce wasn’t needed. My life would go on. How did I feel about that? Should there be some sort of joy to feel? Gratitude? There was nothing but a flatness to my emotions. A coffin of perpetual misery.

  Chapter

  Thirty-One

  Kyle

  In room 208 I was just finishing my chicken salad sandwich when Dad poked his nose through the door.

  “Hi, son.”

  I grinned broadly as he strode into the room and leaned down to hug me.

  “Dad! You made it.”

  “Of course I made it. There’s nowhere else I need to be than here with you.”

  “I’m glad you came. How’s Daniel and Mom?”

  “They’re holding up okay. Glad to hear you’re okay and that Dakota is safe.”

  My father’s eyes darkened when he spoke Dakota’s name. He looked away and ran a hand through his greying hair.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What is it?”

  “Ahh…I have just visited with Dakota.”

  “Where? How is she? Oh God. I want to see her. Wait! Why have you visited her before me?”

  My father pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down. “Well, I kind of ran into her when I arrived.”

  My eyebrows stretched under the hair that had fallen across my face. “She’s up and walking? Christ! Can you take me to her?”

  Joseph stared at me long and hard before answering. “Here’s the thing, son. Physically, I think her injuries will heal…mentally, well, that’s a different story.”

  “What do you mean, mentally? What did that fucker do to her?”

  “She’s really struggling. Won’t let anyone touch her. Hasn’t been eating. When I found her she had wandered down the hall to the nurses’ station. She kept saying she needed a shower. She’d pulled her drip out and just left her room.”

  I started to get out of bed even with my heavily bandaged leg and foggy brain from the anesthetic. “Take me to her now! She needs me. I have to get to her.”

  Dad gently pushed on my shoulder. “Now, son. Don’t go flying in there. Just wait. We managed to calm her down. The nurse has agreed to give her a shower providing she eats some lunch. I think you should wait until after that. Besides, you’re still recovering yourself.”

  “I don’t care about me. I’ve been away from her long enough. It’s because I wasn’t with her that all this happened in the first place.”

  “You know that’s not true. John would have found a way to get to her, regardless. You couldn’t have prevented any of this. He was sick and delusional and extremely determined. Nothing would have stopped him. I’m just glad we won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

  “Even if that’s true, it’s killing me to be away from her.”

  “I know. Just give it a little more time.”

  I let out a resigned sigh and positioned myself back on the bed.

  A knock sounded on the door and Officer Hawkins entered the room, making his way over to the bed.

  “Mr. Rutherford. Good to see you’re okay. I’ve cleared it with the nurse, so if you’re up to it, I’d like to ask you a few questions and get your statement.”

  I looked to my father and saw his gentle nod.

  “Uh, yeah. Sure.” I moved the bed to a more upright position before taking a sip of water from the glass on the bedside table.

  Hawkins pulled a chair up then took out his pen and paper from his shirt pocket. “Okay. Start at the beginning. When I say the beginning, I mean from the time you arrived at Big Bear Lake until the time we got there.”

  Dad moved across to the window ledge and perched there, far enough away to still be of comfort but giving me some space.

  I relayed the events as best as I could, making sure the officer knew that John had been killed purely in an act of self-defense. I left out the fact that I’d wanted to tear John’s head from his shoulders when I’d first met Dakota and learned of her abusive marriage.

  “Why did you pursue the assailant in the first place? It was a pretty reckless thing to do.”

  That was a fair question. Why did I chase John? Well, I hadn’t really been thinking. Just acting on instinct. “I saw him escaping and didn’t see any police pursuing him. I knew once he got into the forest, it would be easy for him to disappear. I guess I was trying to help.”

  “Hmm,” was all the officer offered. He was writing at a mile a minute, turning pages of his small notepad frequently.

  “It was a very foolish thing you did. You could have been killed.”

  “I realize that now but at the time I didn’t think of that. I just wanted John stopped.”

  “The perpetrator isn’t here to tell his side of things so we can only assume you’re telling the truth. I still need to get statements from Officers Bennett and Kransky.”

  I thought for a moment before asking, “Are all the officers, okay? Were they injured at all?”

  Hawkins face tightened and his eyes darkened, pain written on his features. “Sheriff McQuade didn’t make it and Officer Kransky suffered severe bruising after being shot in the chest. Lucky he was wearing a vest. Officer Bennett managed to shoot the perp.in the hand before he fled.”

  “John killed the sheriff?” What the fuck? The scumbag had actually killed an officer of the law? He was more screwed up than anyone imagined.

  Officer Hawkins lowered his head for a moment and then replied, “That’s correct. The good sheriff is deceased.”

  I looked at my father and saw the same look of disbelief stamped on his face that I imagined was clearly mapped on my own. “Shit!” I rubbed my temples, feeling a migraine coming on.

  My heart went out to the sheriff. A man who had gone to work and would never make it back home. Dying in the course of duty was very noble but also very sad.

  Hawkins stood. “I think I’ve got everything I need. We’ll be in touch.” He nodded once at me and then again at Dad before turning and disappearing out the door.

  I collapsed back on the bed, trying to get my head around the latest news. “Jesus, Dad! He killed a cop. Not only a cop, but a sheriff, for Christ’s sake!”

  “Quite frankly I’m glad you finished him off. Who knows how many others would have been hurt before the police finally nabbed him.”

  “Do you think I’ll be charged?”

  “I can’t see it. He killed a sheriff. They’ll probably be grateful you got him. I wouldn’t worry about it, son. Everything will work out.”

  “I hope you’re right. I don’t feel like going to jail because of that asshole.”

  “You w
on’t. It was self-defense. No jury of sound mind would charge you after all the crimes John had stacked up against him.”

  Maybe. Time would tell. For now, I just needed to see Dakota.

  “Can I go see her now, Dad?”

  “Let me go check with the nurse and see if she’s back from her shower yet.”

  My arms yearned to be around her. To take away some of her pain, if that were even possible now. Just how damaged was she? All that she’d fought for had been pulled from under her in one fell swoop and it would remain to be seen as to whether she could recover mentally.

  God! I needed to get her back to our new house, close the high gates, and entomb her in our sanctuary, taking care of her and showering her with all she deserved.

  What would it take on my behalf to make her feel safe again? I’d killed for her, although that wasn’t just for her. It was for all of us, but somehow even knowing John was going to be six feet under, it was probably still going to take a lot for her to feel that it was finally over.

  An idea started to form. One that might just help. When Dad came back, I’d ask his help to organize my plan.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Two

  Dakota

  Winning an argument with the nurse about not needing any help in the shower, I stood, or more like leaned awkwardly alone against the tiles, angling the jet so the knife-like spray hit me head-on. It was as hot as I could stand it without giving myself second degree burns.

  The bar of soap sat in my hands as I basked under the powerful jet, soaking the cleansing heat into my pores, willing the dirt to disappear down the drain.

  Lathering as much soap as I could onto a washer, I started what I knew would be an agonizing purification. It had to be done, though. To scrub him off me. To decontaminate. If I could reach inside and clean every inch of my stained heart, I would. Just soaping the outside didn’t seem enough.

  The coarse fabric chafed over bruises on my torso with vitriolic efficiency, my whimpers getting washed away with the hot spray. The pressure was hard and fast. Nothing else would work. Trying to remember where the evil had pawed my body, my hand moved furiously from one area to the next as I pitifully groaned with the pain and more so the frustration of not getting properly clean. I could still feel him on me. The vulgar mouth. Rough fingers like sandpaper. Sewer breath.

  Knowing the friction was eroding a layer of skin, I let the caustic sting spur me on. Reaching between my legs to the sacred place, I wondered if he’d violated. I wanted nothing more than to pour a glass of acid over the area. To let it eat deep into the fragile flesh in order to purge any trace of his manhandling.

  Something started building inside me at that thought. It rose in a giant wave from my depths like grief until I was so overwhelmed I dropped the washer, my knees buckling, causing me to crumple to the floor, tears bleeding from my eyes. A feral howl let loose, and then deep, heaving sobs that nearly broke my chest cavity wide open. I needed help.

  ***

  My eyes were open. I was awake. Just not coherent. Things were happening around me. People moving. Gasps. Talking. Water turning off. My body being picked up and carried to a bed. Blankets thrown on top. Moving. Lights in my eyes. I could feel everything. It’s just that I couldn’t respond. I was a floppy rag doll. Alive, yet not. Hollowed out on the inside. A shell.

  “Miss Livingston? Miss Livingston? Can you hear me? Tell us your first name? How many fingers am I holding up?” Endless questions. Why couldn’t they just shut up? The voices were too loud. Draining.

  “I think she’s gone into shock. Get her dried, re-dressed, and back to her room. Strictly no visitors. And get her medicated. We need to figure out a course of long-term treatment.”

  Chapter

  Thirty-Three

  Kyle

  “How did you go? Can I see her now?” My father walked back into the room, mouth tight, eyes concerned.

  “Son, it may be a while before you get to see her.”

  “What the hell is going on, Dad?”

  “Apparently she had an episode in the shower.”

  “What sort of an episode?” Everything inside me screamed in frustration.

  “They found her huddled on the floor, pretty messed up.”

  “Messed up? Did someone else hurt her?”

  “No. I’d say everything has caught up with her. She’s gone into shock. No visitors are allowed for now until they figure things out.”

  “That’s crazy! I can help calm her down. She needs me. Now more than ever! You need to tell them that.” My jaw was hurting from clenching my teeth so hard. I had to see her. I was not going to sit idly by while they probably pumped her full of drugs to keep her sedated while they ‘figured things out.’ I’m not sure where this new side to me had manifested from but there was an intense necessity flowing like a river through my veins to un-break my beautiful girl.

  “Does she know John is dead?”

  “Yes, I broke the news to her.”

  “How did she take it?”

  “I don’t know if it’s fully registered yet. She was shocked, obviously, but she didn’t give much of a reaction.”

  “Does she…does she know how he was killed?” That was playing on my mind a lot. The fact that I had been the one to take her ex-husband’s life. Would she thank me or would it drive a wedge between us? I didn’t see how but I wasn’t sure how Dakota would react to me killing anyone.

  “She knows. Again though, her reaction was not what I’d been expecting.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There was some emotion on her face when I told her but she seemed to be internalizing it all. I couldn’t really tell what she was thinking.”

  Now more than ever I needed to ask my dad the favor that would hopefully help bring Dakota back to us.

  “Dad. I need to ask you to do something for me.”

  Chapter

  Thirty-Four

  Dakota

  Minutes became hours. Hours became days. I didn’t know any more. Time was irrelevant. The constant stream of waking and sleeping. Eating sporadically and being put on a bedpan. That’s right. No more trips to the bathroom for now. I was struggling with things and I guess the powers that be figured it was just too much effort on my behalf to walk or even get wheeled down the hall to take care of my business. My mind felt full of fluff, like I couldn’t think. I just seemed to be existing and no more. Maybe whatever they kept injecting into the drip was keeping me in a waking coma.

  It must have been the next day because night had fallen and the sun had risen again. I imagined they would all eventually bleed into each other, one giant chunk of time only separated by light and dark.

  No one apart from the nursing staff had visited since yesterday when I got to see Joseph.

  I wondered what Kyle was doing. Someone mentioned that I wasn’t allowed visitors for a couple of days so I guessed that was why he hasn’t tried to see me. There was no emotion connected to the thought. It was merely an observation.

  It was strange not to feel anything. To have thoughts come and go while disconnected. I’d always been an over-thinker and carried my heart on my sleeve, so to have those I cared about fill my head without any emotion attached to them at all was like being outside my body as a silent observer. Is that what mental patients felt like? Detached from everything and everyone?

  I should be grateful for the eradication of anything remotely resembling sentiment.

  The next day continued on in the same manner, routine and unproductive…my memory retaining just snippets of wakefulness.

  Sometime when the light outside started to dim, a nurse popped in, breezing her way across to me, a light air about her gait. I recognized her as Sky.

  “Hey honey. How are you doing?”

  I stared at her a moment, organizing her words into a coherent sentence I could understand as my mind worked to fight the jumbled haze in my head. “Okay, I guess.”

  “Are you up for a visitor?”

 
I shrugged, nonchalantly. “Maybe.”

  “I think you’ll want to see this person. He’s been anxiously awaiting clearance to come visit you.”

  “Okay.” It was bland and flat. I was talking like the zombie I felt.

  My gaze returned to nothing in particular as the nurse shuffled around, opening the door and then moving something large through it.

  Turning my head, my eyes met a set of crystalline rivers of blue. Tousled hair, full, sculptured mouth that was upturned at the corners on a face that was overflowing with tenderness. Kyle.

  We held each other’s stare until Kyle was sitting beside the bed, the nurse leaving without a sound.

  “Hey, beautiful girl.”

  His arm lifted towards me and stopped as if I was expected to take his hand. I sat there blinking, trying to figure out what I was meant to be feeling. When he realized I wasn’t moving he lowered his arm down to his lap.

  His appearance had changed drastically from what I remembered. Bags under his eyes. Paler skin, and something different that at first I couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t until I looked beyond his face and extended my peripheral vision to his aura that I realized what the difference was.

  There were spots of red in his aura that were repelling the light in the room. I knew what this signified. Residual anger, unforgiving, anxiety.

  I watched him watching me, waiting for a response.

  “Hey.” It was awkward. There was an invisible wall that had been erected between us, not by us but by all that had happened in the last few days.

  “How are you doing?”

  “I’m not.” That was the truth. I knew I wasn’t doing well but there was nothing I could do to change that at the moment. I didn’t know how.

  I saw the pain flicker across his eyes and the pull of his brows.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  I just shook my head. I definitely didn’t want to talk about it. Not ever. No one could ever know. It was something I couldn’t relive.