Shadows (Black Raven Book 1)

by Barcelona, Stella

  Ignoring the doctor’s comment, Sebastian glanced at Skye. “Mary and Jane Smith. This sweet thing,” he gestured with his chin to the dog, “is Candy.”

  Spring, thankfully, was wearing her headphones and was quiet, eyes on the floor, as she leaned against Skye. If Spring had heard the off-the-cuff pretend names, there would have been questions.

  The dark-haired nurse looked young, pretty, and fresh. After introducing himself to Skye, the doctor introduced the nurse, Rhonda, to Sebastian and to Skye. She wore a white uniform dress with a pearl-buttoned black sweater with lapel pins. One pin was the pink breast cancer swirl, another was a yellow ribbon, and a third was a cross. Rhonda wore her causes, and a woman with causes, someone who had to be introduced to Sebastian, might fall for a sob story.

  Spring hadn’t looked up since they entered the room, and the doctor’s gaze was now riveted on her.

  “I foiled a kidnapping of them,” Sebastian explained. “Shots were fired at close range. Two innocent bystanders, friends of theirs, were killed. The younger one seemed unconscious after a hit in her face, and after awakening she had one hell of an anxiety attack.”

  The doctor’s gaze moved to Sebastian, after he provided these details. “Head injuries are serious business,” the doctor said, his eyes on Sebastian, “aren’t they? They should be treated as such, right?”

  The doctor’s comment explained Sebastian’s habitual fingers-to-the-temples gesture, which Skye had observed since he’d barged, unannounced, into their lives. He pressed at his temple on the right side of his head whenever he was still, as though soothing a throbbing headache. In the car, when he’d been on the phone, he had mentioned an appointment in the same context as an irritated question about doctor-patient confidentiality. His affairs were in order. Those comments, coupled with the doctor’s ‘look-like-hell’ assessment and the pointed comment about head injuries, led to only one conclusion—a head injury that was still a problem.

  Maybe her luck would turn, and he’d drop dead.

  She felt a momentary pang of remorse. After all, he had rescued them and brought them to a hospital.

  Well, maybe not drop dead.

  Just something that would be temporarily immobilizing. Something less serious than death. Problem was, he looked way too healthy for any real illness, and his steely-and-irritated glance told her he was too angry to die anytime soon.

  Sebastian’s answer to the doctor was a slow nod and a terse, “That’s why we’re here.”

  He lifted Candy from the bed, placed her on the rug in the seating area, and removed the room’s cordless phone from the cradle. He gave Skye a pointed look as he kept it in his hand. He walked to the doorway with the phone in his hand.

  The doctor glanced at Skye, studying her and Spring. “Tell me what happened.”

  Skye recapped, ending with, “I’m not worried about me.” There is absolutely no time for that. She drew a deep breath, smoothed Spring’s hair, and said, “My sister has preexisting issues, which may make her answers to your questions seem odd. Developmentally challenged, generalized anxiety disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and, she’s socially awkward.”

  Skye fought back the lump in her throat when she thought of all the labels that had been placed upon Spring. She squared her shoulders, dug deep for strength, and continued, “She’s mentally challenged, stemming, doctors believe, from oxygen deprivation at birth.”

  “The autism spectrum?”

  Skye shook her head. “She was tested. Repeatedly. Nothing conclusive.”

  Benjamin was quiet for a moment. “What is she listening to?”

  “The encyclopedia,” Skye said, “The reader’s tone soothes her.”

  “Does she retain any of it?”

  Skye nodded. “Reasoning and logic present problems, but her memory is phenomenal.”

  “How so?”

  “She can remember words in a dictionary. In order. She has almost perfect recall for dialogue in movies. But at times, her short-term memory of real life events is nonexistent.” Skye hesitated, and braced herself for the hard part. “She was in a bad car accident two years ago.”

  My fault.

  Her father’s voice came to her, with the message he had provided in the awful days and weeks after the accident. People have accidents, Skye. Forgive yourself. She straightened her shoulders and drew a deep breath. “She had a severe concussion, which could make her more susceptible now to a head injury, right?”

  The doctor frowned. “It could.”

  “Mary,” Sebastian said, from the doorway. She hadn’t realized that he was still there, that he had listened, until he spoke her newest name. Her consultation with the doctor was none of his business, but a quick flare of anger quickly ebbed as empathy in his eyes reminded her of his strong, yet gentle, embrace as he kept her from falling in the driveway. How, as masculine muskiness had enveloped her, his hard chest had become a welcome wall of strength, while her thoughts spun with the residual need to get out of a dead man’s clutches and the impossibly loud sound of gunfire.

  Yet even as she found reassurance in his eyes, warning bells clanged. Reassurance wasn’t something she should seek from Sebastian. Her father had taught her, Trust no one. Especially anyone who knows you’re my daughter.

  There was more than just reassurance. He was undeniably the most attractive man she’d ever met, and she’d been around many attractive men.

  Unavailable.

  If ever there was a man who fit that bill, Sebastian was it. Not in the sense of married, though he could be, or gay, which he didn’t seem to be. No. He was unavailable in the sense of not interested, because no matter what expression graced those clear blue eyes, full lips, and square jaw, underneath it there was impatience. He was looking for her father, and she was a means to that end.

  In years past, his restless, brooding seriousness would have been a challenge, but not now. Skye had spent serious time and effort overcoming her attraction to unavailable men. That self-destructive phase in her life was over. And she had to get the hell away from here and him. She had to get to Tennessee.

  Run. Now.

  “Pete will be here. I won’t be far. You’re safe,” Sebastian said as he turned from the doorway and disappeared down the hallway.

  Safe? No. Trapped.

  Dear God. Precious minutes slipped away as they went from one examining room to the next, in the unnaturally quiet hospital. Technicians ran a CT scan, an MRI, and x-rays, while testing Spring’s ability to pay attention, her balance, and her memory. Skye stayed with Spring, and they were never alone with Rhonda, her only hope for an escape. Pete shadowed them. Sebastian was nowhere to be seen.

  After an hour and a half of tests, they returned to the hospital room to wait for the results. Two matching suitcases stood side by side at the foot of each bed. A small table was set with silverware and dome-covered dishes.

  “Those suitcases are full of clothes and essentials for the two of you. Go ahead and eat. Grab a shower. Let me know if you need anything else,” Pete said. “I’ll be right outside.”

  Skye and Spring showered. After wrapping themselves in large towels, they bathed Candy. Someone had not only shopped, they had carefully folded the clothes and packed toiletries. There were slim black jeans, blue jeans, fresh and crisp white-cotton button down shirts, and wool cardigans. Panties and bras, in various sizes, flannel nightgowns, cotton turtlenecks, soft cardigans, leggings, and jean jackets. Thin socks and black leather ankle-boots, with solid one-inch, wood-stacked heels, were also tucked into one of the suitcases. The volume of clothes–a supply for more than just a day-made her heart beat faster.

  Spring said, “These aren’t our clothes.”

  “They’re a present from Sebastian,” Skye said. “They’re nice, aren’t they? And the boots are fabulous. Right?”

  “I really like him,” Spring said.

  Don’t get too attached. They both put on blue jeans. Skye wiped the off-white leather belts with a damp cloth, an
d they used those instead of the belts that had been purchased for them. It wasn’t exactly a fashion statement she was proud of, but today wasn’t the day to care about appearances. Spring chose a pastel yellow cardigan, Skye took a charcoal gray. The slip-on boots were snug, but the soft leather made them comfortable.

  Skye went to the table, where assorted finger sandwiches, fruit, and chips sat on platters. The table was set for two. “Are you hungry? There are ham and turkey sandwiches.”

  Spring shook her head, “We need to get the cake to the bank.”

  Skye paused. She drew a deep breath. Memory loss was a symptom of a concussion. Oh, God. Don’t let her have a concussion. Please. “Sarah took care of that for us. We can’t leave yet. We need your test results.”

  A worry line bisected Spring’s brow. She touched her nose, and winced. “Who were they?”

  Skye hesitated. “What do you remember?” Obviously, not everything, and Skye didn’t know whether to be grateful or worried.

  “A man hit me. Everything turned dark. The next thing I remember is Sebastian was carrying me. You and Sebastian yelled at each other.” She paused, and more worry filtered into her clear blue eyes as she shook her head. “We were in the car. I gave Sebastian jellybeans. I don’t remember anything else.”

  “Don’t worry about what you don’t remember.”

  “Who was the man?”

  Skye shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “What did he want?”

  “I don’t know,” Skye said, careful to keep her voice calm, her mood upbeat, as she wondered how in the hell they were going to get away.

  Fear filtered into Spring’s eyes. “Was it about Dad?”

  Of course it was. “I don’t know.”

  “How did he find us? Did I make a mistake?” Spring’s eyes welled with tears.

  Spring had never understood why they were hiding. She just understood that they were hiding. “Oh, honey. Don’t cry. You didn’t make a mistake. I don’t know how the man who hit you found us, but I’m going to figure that out, and no one will ever find us again.”

  “You know that I’ll never tell anyone anything about Dad,” Spring paused, “I really, really won’t.”

  Thank God. “And if anyone ever asks you anything about Dad, what are you going to say?”

  “I’ll say I don’t know. Or I don’t remember. Or,” she paused as she gave Skye a sly, quiet smile, “I’ll tell them about the Pyrenees.” She lifted her ear buds and waved them at Skye. “I’m on the P’s. The Pyrenees.”

  Skye seized upon the distraction. “Would you like to go hiking there this summer?”

  “No.”

  Even on ordinary days, Spring didn’t like to travel. It upset her routine, and that had been one of the problems with being Richard Barrows’ daughter. Their mother had been the family’s anchor. After she died, when Skye was thirteen and Spring was two, homes had just been houses, and the addresses always changed. With the guilt-induced clarity that came after the car accident, Skye had been working on changing that for Spring and, until Sebastian had appeared at the coffee house, she’d succeeded.

  Spring frowned, “I’m really, really tired. Can we go home now?”

  “Soon. But not now.”

  “We’re going home when we leave, aren’t we?”

  Skye drew a deep breath. “Not right away.”

  Fat tears spilled from Spring’s eyes.

  “Honey, please don’t cry,” Skye said, struggling to keep her voice calm. “We’re returning there just as soon as we can, but we have to make sure the man who hit you is gone.”

  “If we can’t go home, can we go to Firefly Island?”

  “Yes. I’ll take you there, once we’re sure you are fine. But don’t tell anyone that’s where we’re going,” she said, gripping Spring’s hands. “Not Sebastian, not anyone. Remember, the lake house is our secret. Only me, you, and Dad know about the lake house or Firefly Island, and it has to stay that way. Understand?”

  Spring gave her a wide-eyed nod and a sniff.

  “Now I need to talk to the doctors.” She got Spring situated on the couch with a plate of sandwiches, a soda, and earphones on with her iPad playing the P’s. Candy, her fur damp, snoozed in a bed of towels on the floor, near the couch. Skye paced for a few minutes. When she saw that Spring’s gaze was following her, with a worry line bisecting her brow, she sat down just before the nurse and doctor entered the room. She stood as they did.

  “I’ve ruled out bruising on the brain or bleeding,” the doctor said.

  Skye exhaled with relief, but there was still concern in his eyes. “Does that rule out a concussion?”

  He frowned. “Not entirely. Her lack of memory could be a symptom of concussion, as is extreme anxiety, which she exhibited. However,” he paused, “both memory loss and anxiety are somewhat normal for her, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because there’s a possibility that she suffered a concussion, for now, she needs rest, and I’ve told Sebastian I’m not releasing her for another few hours. I’ll conduct more tests at five. Assuming all goes well, you can be on your way. Even then, there’s to be only mild exertion, lots of naps. For the next twenty-four hours, wake her every couple of hours. If it’s difficult to wake her, or she complains of a headache, if she’s nauseated or vomiting, if she’s sensitive to light or noise, if she can’t balance, if she sleeps too much, if she’s more emotional than normal,” he paused, “anything unusual, bring her back to me, or to an emergency room. Don’t hesitate.”

  Skye drew a deep breath. This complicated her plan of running, but it was better than learning that Spring had traumatic brain injury. “Her nose?”

  “There’s a hairline fracture in the bridge of her nose, which should heal on its own. She stopped bleeding, so we don’t need to pack it. Rhonda will give you supplies for if she starts bleeding again.” He paused, “Candy’s x-rays showed no signs of a fracture in her shoulder or neck. She’s just sore.”

  He left, as Rhonda opened a supply cabinet.

  Finally.

  Chapter Nine

  Two thirty p.m., Monday

  “It’s all a lie. The kidnapping. Everything you’ve been told about why we’re here,” Skye said. “We need your help.”

  Rhonda turned, a pack of gauze in her hands, an uncertain look in her eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “We were trying to escape from Sebastian. We’re married. My sister lives with us,” she paused, “Last night I caught him going into her room.” Rhonda’s eyes widened. Her face became pale. “When I confronted him, he beat me. He knows where to hit so that his fists don’t leave marks. Normally he’s not in a rage,” she shuddered, “but this morning he was. This is the first time that he took it out on her more than me. I can’t let this go on. I have to leave. I need your help.”

  “Why didn’t you tell this to Doctor Cavanaugh?”

  “They’re friends. Don’t you see?” She stepped closer to Rhonda, who had put the supplies down and was still, intent on Skye’s every word. Spring, headphones on, wasn’t listening. “The doctor isn’t going to help us get away from him. This morning I was trying to leave. He figured it out. He attacked me, my sister tried to defend me, and that’s when he punched her. Candy got in the middle of it, and he kicked her.” She couldn’t cry on cue, but she could make her voice break. “He, he l-loves us. There’s always remorse after one of our fights. That’s why he brought us here. Please.” Skye dropped her voice to the lowest of whispers. “I don’t care what he does to me. But he’s hurt her, for God’s sake. I just need your help to get out of here. I have a place to go. I have cash. I just need to get away from him, and I need your help to do it.”

  “I’m not sure what I can do,” Rhonda said. “Besides, Doctor Cavanaugh just advised you to stay here a few more hours.”

  “We can’t stay. Create a distraction.” Skye grabbed the other woman’s arm, and said urgently, “just get Pete away from the door for a minute, and we’ll get awa
y. Now is my only chance to do something I’ve needed to do for years. Now. We have to leave now.”

  Worried brown eyes held hers. Skye saw concern, but also skepticism. “Have you tried the police?”

  “They’re no help. They file a domestic disturbance report and that’s it. Like a piece of paper does anything. It only makes him madder. We have to get away from him,” Skye paused, glanced at the clock. 2:30. Dear God. Time was racing by. She had to run. “And I need to do it now.”

  “Pete’s not going to just leave,” Rhonda said. “He looks like he’s pretty good at what he does, and right now, that’s protecting you and your sister.”

  “Not protecting. Guarding us so that we don’t run away,” Skye said. “With your help, a fire alarm, something, I’ll make it work. Please.”

  “Didn’t they drive you here?” Rhonda asked. “How are you, your sister, and the dog going to leave?”

  She guessed that Rhonda wouldn’t appreciate the idea of stealing a car from the valet stand, so she didn’t share it. “We’re on a busy street, with stores and businesses. Plenty of places to disappear. Please. Don’t you understand? I’m not afraid of what’s out there.” She waved her arm in an all-encompassing signal of the world beyond the hospital. “I’m afraid of him.”

  “I’m sorry. There are rules. I’m supposed to report all cases of domestic abuse to the authorities, but first, I’m supposed to report it to the doctor in charge of your care. As much as I want to help you, I can’t just let you run away. ”