“Is Aidan out of surgery yet?”
“Not yet. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something.” She took a seat and offered me a reassuring smile. “From what I could tell, you weren’t raped.” She glanced at the chart in her hands. “And there’s no sign of miscarriage, so that’s good.”
My world stopped. “Wh-what?”
She tilted her head. “You weren’t aware of your pregnancy?”
“No!” I cried, horrified.
“You’re not very far along, so I’m not surprised you didn’t notice a missed period.”
“This doesn’t make any sense. I’m on birth control.”
“Birth control isn’t one hundred percent effective.”
“I know, but . . .” I brought a fist to my mouth and calculated the time Aidan and I had spent together; it couldn’t have been more than two weeks since our first time. I lowered my face into my hands and fell apart.
“Is there anything I can get you? Anyone I can call?”
“I just want out of here.”
“Soon. Eat breakfast first, then I’ll prepare your discharge papers.”
I folded my arms, more of a defensive gesture than anything else, and avoided the sympathy in her expression. Or maybe it was more in line with pity. I hated pity.
“If you need someone to talk to, I can get you a referral. You’ve been through a lot.”
I shook my head. “I’d rather not.”
She looked as if she wanted to press the issue, and I was thankful when she didn’t.
“Agent Kipp is here again,” she said. “Should I send her in?”
I shook my head. “I want to talk to Sheriff McFayden.”
“He’s here too, but we thought you might be more comfortable with a woman.”
“I need to talk to him.”
“I’ll let him know. Are you sure you don’t need anything?” She brushed chestnut colored bangs from her eyes as she waited for my answer.
“I’m sure.” I could have used a painkiller for the throbbing in my temples, though the strongest painkiller on Earth wouldn’t take away the deep ache in my heart.
29. Family Hour
“You wanted to see me?”
I jumped, startled to find Sheriff McFayden standing in the doorway holding a tray in his hands.
“Breakfast,” he said, as if I’d asked for an explanation. “I told the nurse I’d bring it in since I was headed in here anyway.” He set the tray on a table, and I willed my pulse to return to normal. I expected him to lower into the chair at my bedside, but he focused on the window instead. The blinds were drawn, though a bit of light leaked through. I’d lost all sense of time. The whole night had gone by in a surreal blur.
“Is Aidan out of surgery yet?”
He nodded. “The bullet grazed his liver, and he lost a lot of blood, but he’s okay. He’s in recovery.”
His words caused a dam to burst in me. I clutched my stomach as the most intense form of relief I’d ever experienced rushed through me. “When can I see him?”
“He’ll be in recovery for a while.” McFayden pointed toward my cooling breakfast. “You should try and eat something.”
I grabbed a banana nut muffin and picked at it. “Why did Judd do it, Sheriff?”
He dropped his head, and the haggard lines on his face reminded me of Aidan on the night of Halloween; it was the image of devastation. “I don’t know, Ms. Hill.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he lowered his tall frame into a chair.
“I had a vision about him.”
His eyes widened. “About Judd?”
I played with the edge of my blanket and avoided eye contact. Suddenly, I wondered if he was aware of what his son had endured while growing up. “I saw him as a child.”
“I wasn’t around when he was young,” he said, and the regret in his tone made me lift my head. He swallowed hard. “His mother wasn’t . . . right in the head. She took off with him shortly after we divorced. I didn’t see him for years.”
I shivered, remembering how utterly abandoned Judd had felt. “Did you know he was abused?”
“I suspected. His mother committed suicide when he was twelve, and he went to therapy when he came to live with me, but it was hard to know if it helped. No one could get him to open up.”
Obviously, it hadn’t helped or he wouldn’t have turned into such a psycho. He blinked several times, and I looked away, giving him a few moments to collect himself.
“His childhood was rough, but that doesn’t excuse him for what he’s done.” He sighed. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you about any of this.”
“Other than Judd, you’re the only one who can give me answers.”
“I wish I could give you answers.” He appeared to have aged ten years overnight, and that was never more apparent than when he raised his head and looked at me with tired, red-rimmed eyes. “I want you to feel one-hundred percent safe, so I’ve upped the security here. He won’t get near you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t begin to apologize for what he’s done.”
I gripped the blankets as I tried to process the apology, but I was stuck on one thing—the fact that McFayden was talking as if . . . “But he’s in jail.”
He ran a hand through his graying hair. “Aidan tried to stop him. By the time I found him he’d been shot,”—his voice cracked, and he struggled to continue—“and Judd was gone.”
He was still out there somewhere. The reality of it hit me in the chest, and I sucked in several breaths before speaking again. “But you’re gonna find him, right? You have to find him!”
“We’re doing everything we can.” He stood. “Agent Kipp needs to get your statement. Is it okay if I send her in?”
I nodded, unable to find my voice.
He never did offer an explanation, or even a guess, as to why his son had done what he’d done. Maybe he was as clueless as the rest of us, though instinct told me differently. The agent appeared in my doorway almost immediately upon his exit, and retelling what had happened in minute detail left me mentally drained.
I’d grown numb by the time my mom arrived. She brought me a change of clothes, and I hadn’t protested when she pulled me into her arms and held on for what seemed like forever.
As promised, Dr. Armstrong discharged me after breakfast.
Now we waited, Mom, Joe, and me. Aidan was unconscious and still in recovery, and I didn’t know if that was normal or not after surgery; the nurse hadn’t elaborated.
My mom paced the hall outside the family lounge as she talked on the phone. She returned a few minutes later and plopped into a chair. “That was Mackayla. She and Micah are on their way. They’re calling Marcus too.”
“Call them back. I’m not ready to see everyone yet.”
“Come on, Kenz, don’t be ridiculous.”
I loved my family, but I didn’t feel up to putting on a brave front for them now. It was bad enough Joe refused to leave my side, especially since he knew me too well. “I’m not ready yet. Please, Mom.”
She got up with a sigh and dialed, and I noticed the stress on her face as she stepped into the hall again.
I bounced my foot against the floor as if I’d consumed a pot of coffee, though I’d had none. Knowledge of my pregnancy changed everything, and I already found myself thinking in small, protective ways.
Every so often I’d spot a deputy combing the halls. His presence made me nervous, as it was a constant reminder of Judd and the fact that he was still free . . . free to try again. I got up and started pacing, and Joe gave me a worried glance. So what if I was a nervous wreck and unable to sit still? Didn’t mean he had to look at me as if I were about to break. Who knew, maybe I was.
Maybe I’d already broken in half and this was all some weird dream. Bizarre nightmare was more like it. If only I could wake up, preferably next to Aidan in a world where he wasn’t my brother . . . in a world where I wasn’t pregnant with his child and we didn’t have to worry about the threat of a madman. Somewher
e in a small corner of my mind the full impact of what we’d inadvertently done festered, but the rest of me wouldn’t accept it yet—the shame was too much to handle.
Vomit rose in my throat. I sprinted for the restroom, registering my mom’s alarmed look on the way, and barely made it to a stall in time. A couple minutes later, as disgusting brown swirled down the toilet, I sensed her behind me.
“Are you okay?”
I cranked my head. “No.” I stared at her for a few seconds and debated on whether I should utter the words, but she’d find out eventually. Better to get it over with now. “I’m pregnant.”
She blanched, and I wondered if she was going to be sick herself. “Tell me it’s not Aidan’s . . .”
“I just found out—” I covered my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut, as if doing so would block out the horror of the situation. “It’s his.”
“Didn’t you use birth control? You barely know him, Kenz!”
Was she serious? “Of course I used birth control!” I jumped to my feet and glared at her. “Don’t you dare put this on me. You should have told me the truth.” My words sliced through her like I’d meant them to. The two sides of me went to battle—the scared girl who needed her, and the grown woman who was knocked up by her own flesh and blood and wanted to hurt her.
Badly.
I pushed past her and moved to the sink to wash my hands. “I love him. If the situation weren’t so sick and twisted, I’d be ecstatic to have his child.”
“You’re too young—”
“Don’t go there.” She’d had Marcus a year after graduating high school. “Can you take Joe and get something to eat or . . . something? I need to be alone for a while.”
“I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Please. You guys are smothering me!”
“Okay,” she said, raising her hands and stepping back. “I suppose we could grab some coffee.” She’d always been the strong-willed one, accustomed to getting her way, so the speed in which she relented surprised me. The door shut with a whoosh, and I waited a few minutes after she left before heading toward the waiting area.
Watcher’s Point General still had that new smell to it—in the paint on the walls, in the wood used to construct the building. The place was only a few months old, and I knew the scent of fresh paint would always bring me back to this day—to the waiting that seemed endless, spent boxed in the tiny lounge with too many magazines cluttering the tables and no real desire to open them much less flip the pages. Waiting, for news about Aidan, for someone to say “he’s awake and wants to see you.”
I entered the lounge and smacked into a wall of a chest. A cry escaped me, and I stumbled back, a moment away from screaming for help.
But it was Hamilton Payne—not a monster in human form—who reached out and steadied me. My heart jackhammered, and I brought a hand up to my chest. Relief seeped into my bones until he tightened his grip. His eyes widened, and the way he studied me, as if I were a science experiment, caused fear to course through me again. I didn’t like this connection I sensed, as if he were stripping me, layer by layer, until he saw through me. Was this how Aidan felt under my scrutiny?
He guided me to one of the leather couches and urged me onto the cushion. “Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?”
I raised my brows, stunned by the lines of concern in his forehead. “I’m fine.”
He settled beside me and relaxed. “They tell me Aidan is in recovery?”
My voice was in full mutiny, so I nodded. We sat in silence for a while, and I was trying hard not to freak out. I didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t know how to handle his presence.
“Is . . . is Aidan’s mother here too?”
Does she know about me?
“She’s talking to the doctor.”
I hunched forward and rested my elbows on my thighs.
“We need a DNA test,” he said, so out of the blue it startled me. “Though I’m positive you’re mine.”
The way he said “mine,” with a possessive undertone, alarmed me, and I wondered if I should have listened to my mom. Maybe confronting him really had been a bad idea. What if I’d opened Pandora’s Box?
Only I was clueless about what was inside.
“How can you be so sure I’m your daughter?” I knew how he knew, but I wanted to hear him say it anyway. Maybe the truth would penetrate and stick.
“You’re able to see things, past and future, I suspect. Well, I’m able to sense when someone is . . . special. There’s a certain feeling when it’s blood related. I felt it with Logan, and now with you.”
“Aidan told me about Logan.” I glanced at him and noticed the downturned set of his mouth.
“Logan fights who he is.” He shifted in his seat. “We can do the test now. I can arrange it in a matter of minutes.”
“Why are you so anxious about this? When I told you what my mom claimed, you wanted nothing to do with me.” Not until he’d touched me. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to know my daughter. Your mother had no right to keep this from us.”
“She really created a mess,” I mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
He tilted his head. “How close are you to my son?”
My silence answered for me. I was afraid to look at him, afraid I’d find contempt on his face. Deep down, that’s how I felt. Never mind the fact that Aidan and I hadn’t known—what we’d done was plain wrong.
“We need to handle this situation with a certain amount of discretion. I think it’s best if you and Aidan put some distance between the two of you. Why don’t you come visit Seattle for a while?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“I’ll make it simple. You can even work for me. After all you’ve been through, I think it’ll be good for you to get away.”
“I can’t just up and leave. My life is here.”
“I’ll set up a trust for you, so you won’t have to worry about a thing.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I take care of what’s mine.”
I jumped up. “I’m not yours. Just yesterday you accused me of being a scammer after money, and now you’re wanting to give me a trust fund and a job?” I folded my arms. “I don’t want your money.”
“Of course you do. I can open doors for you, give you opportunities.”
My body went cold. I was certain he had an ulterior motive, though I had no idea what it was. “What do you get out this?”
He stood, rising to his full height, and looked down on me. I took a step back. If not for the hard glint in his eyes, his irritation might have gone unnoticed. He was about to argue the issue, I could already tell, but a nurse interrupted us.
“Ms. Hill? Aidan’s awake. He’s asking for you.”
30. Confessions
Calm down.
I closed my eyes for a brief second before peeking inside Aidan’s room. The door was ajar, and I saw a woman holding his hand as she wiped the tears from her face.
“I’m fine, Mom.” His voice was foreign to my ears, a weak and raspy sound that contradicted everything I knew about him. He spotted me, so I stepped over the threshold.
Upon my presence, his mother stood. She looked younger than her age, though I knew she had to be pushing fifty. Her deep auburn hair tumbled to the middle of her back, and she came across as tiny and fragile despite the inner strength I sensed within her.
“You must be Mackenzie.” She wiped the last trace of tears from her cheeks and gave me a weak smile. “I’m Lila.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, though every part of me screamed how she’d hate my guts once she found out the truth. Surely she didn’t know—she wouldn’t be this polite if she did.
“Mom, would you mind giving us a moment?” Aidan asked.
She wiped her cheeks again and nodded. “I need to call your brother anyway.” Her expression tensed when she glanced behind me, and I turned to find Hamilton waiti
ng in the hall. She brushed past and closed the door on her way out.
I returned my attention to Aidan. His hooded gaze traveled up and down my body before he stopped to linger on the bruises circling my neck. He jolted into a sitting position, yanking on the various tubes and wires attached to his body, and then fell back against the pillows with a groan.
“Sonofabitch,” he said. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and the pasty hue of his skin made the dark hair sweeping his left brow more striking. The monitors went haywire. “Remind me not to move.” He squeezed his eyes shut and hissed a breath between clenched teeth.
I wanted to go to him, but my legs had other ideas. There was so much left unsaid between us, so much I hadn’t told him, and I couldn’t fathom telling him now. This wasn’t the time.
“I’m gonna kill him,” he said, his gaze settling on my neck again.
Without thinking, I brought my hand up to my throat. I didn’t mention he’d have to find him first, but knowing Aidan, he wouldn’t rest until he did. “It looks worse than it is.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I finally willed my feet to move and lowered into the seat next to his bed. I took in the IV attached to his hand and listened to the rhythmic beeping of the machines that monitored his vitals.
“Don’t put on a brave front for me,” he said. “After what he put you through . . .” His words were laced with barely contained rage, though his eyes told a different story. Self-inflicted blame. “All I wanted was to keep you safe—”
“It’s my fault.” Everything was my fault. If I’d been honest with him from the beginning, maybe Judd wouldn’t have had the opportunity to kidnap me, and Aidan wouldn’t be in the hospital torturing himself with more unnecessary guilt.
“How the hell is this your fault?”
“It just is.”
“Did he . . . did he rape you?” His strangled question cut through me, and I could tell his mind had gone back to finding me in that cabin, naked and bound and unconscious.
“No.” I laid my hand on his arm. “You got to me in time.” The warmth of his skin seeped into my palm, and I jerked my hand away, mortified by the instant reaction I had to touching him. “How are you doing?”
Epiphany (Legacy of Payne) Page 24