Unmistakable

  His enraged face begs me to leave it alone, to let him finish, but I can’t do that.

  “Please, Luke,” I beg.

  His eyes shimmer and he lets out a defeated grunt, picking me up from the ground and cradling me into his arms.

  “I wanted to kill him. I might have.”

  His face has been drained of all of its color, and I know that he’s afraid, although I don’t know the source of his fear. I look down. The man, the source of all of my demons, is motionless. For a second, I think he’s dead. I hope he’s dead.

  I have to force myself to focus, and when I do, I see his chest rise and fall with sure signs of life. The same life he took from my brother.

  “He’s not dead. Just unconscious,” I whisper.

  Undisguised relief fills Luke’s face, but I can’t feel that. Not yet. I extract myself from his arms and bend down.

  “Take off the mask, asshole. Let me see your face.”

  He’s far beyond the realm of being able to hear, so I rip the fabric from his head.

  All of the terror I’ve felt, every nightmare, is due to this monster.

  Even though his face is coated in a layer of blood, I can make out his features. A mouth. Skin. Ears. Eyelashes.

  Like an ordinary person’s.

  I feel no guilt, no anger, no pain. He doesn’t deserve my feeling. He deserves nothing.

  Just like that, it’s over. I don’t have to be afraid of the dark. Or the light.

  I turn to Luke, who watches my every movement with the kind of fear that I thought was mine alone. “It’s over,” I whisper into his chest. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

  He clenches his eyes shut and his arms tremble around me.

  “Oh, Stella. Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

  He’s slipping away, but I don’t have an answer to his question, so all I can do is hold on and pray that he won’t leave me again. He tilts my chin and catches me in his unshielded gaze. I’m so lost that I almost miss his whispered words.

  “I’m afraid of you.”

  I want to wipe away his fear, to laugh it off and smother him with my reassurances and my love, but I know what those words would cost both of us. Instead, I brush my fingers over the scratch on his cheek and hold his face in my hands.

  “Try not to be. Please, Luke. Just try not to be.”

  I want to say it: “I won’t hurt you.”

  But I don’t. I don’t make promises that I can’t keep. I love him, and I am not always kind to those I love. I will hurt him, even if I try not to, even if the last thing I want to do is to cause him more pain.

  His smile is shaky. “I don’t know...”

  His words get lost in the wind.

  “Stella! Stella!”

  Luke steps back abruptly at the sound of my name, and at the sight of Holden rushing towards us. He pulls up short, a guilty expression on his face. “I heard shouting, and I thought maybe you needed some help,” he says, breathing heavily.

  “We need to call the police.” Luke slides his hand into mine, a possessive gesture that doesn’t escape me. I nestle my fingers into his palm, hoping to reassure him, but his eyes are intently focused on Holden.

  Holden looks confused until he sees the trickle of blood on my neck and the gashes covering Luke’s arms and face. “Jesus Christ. What happened?”

  Luke doesn’t answer, so I struggle for the words. “I was attacked. I think someone in the club might have known the man…the man who killed my brother. He knew I was here. When I came out for air, he was waiting for me. He said that…he said that he wanted to finish what he started.”

  “Oh, Stella.” Holden hunches over, looking like he’s going to be sick.

  “I’m fine. Luke showed up in time…” I sneak another look at his face, hoping that he’ll take the blame. The credit.

  “You were doing just fine without me,” Luke says, quietly.

  I shake off his words. “We need to call the police. He’s unconscious now, but I don’t know how long that’s going to last.”

  Eric, who arrives just in time to hear the end of the story, crosses over to the limp figure and stands over him. “Holden, you make the call. Take care of the girl. This fucker isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Stella, come inside. You can get cleaned up, and…”

  “No.” The startling clarity of my voice shocks all of us. Especially me. “I need to watch them take him away.”

  Luke shakes his head furiously. “Holden’s right.”

  I refuse to let them stop me. It’s too important. “No. Not until it’s really over.”

  They exchange a long look, and as Holden and Eric take over, Luke and I move towards a tiny patch of grass at the edge of the parking lot.

  When we reach the soft grass, I lean against his broad chest, and while I would be perfectly content to remain in his arms forever, there are things that need to be said.

  “Luke, I…”

  He stares straight ahead, his profile more hawk-like than ever against the cool night sky. “Not now, Stella. We can talk later.” He silences my protests by sliding one of his battered hands into mine. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I’m not sure that I believe him. In my head, there’s a quick skirmish between hope and fear.

  There’s a strong chance that I’ll come to regret it, but I let hope win.

  Chapter 25

  Holden transforms into a drill sergeant, barking orders and keeping the crowd at bay while chaos reigns all around us. I wait for Luke to join him, since it’s not in his nature to stand by and watch the action unfold, but he remains resolutely at my side.

  “It’s okay,” I say quietly. “You should probably go help Holden. I’ll be fine by myself.”

  “Be quiet, Stella.”

  When I see the grim determination in his face, I squeeze his hand. He winces, in obvious pain, but his grip only tightens against my fingers. He draws my body close to his, and I take shelter there and let the world slip away. I am safe. It is over. The glittering black eyes will no longer haunt my dreams.

  I’m not entirely confident in that, but I try my best to believe it.

  When the sirens begin to blare louder, I brace myself for the loss of breath. I wait to drown. I wait to recover.

  I anticipate the inevitable. Five seconds.

  Nothing comes. When neon lights invade my vision and drown out the chatter of the crowd, I breathe in and out. Even as the paramedics attach the man to a stretcher and the police secure him with handcuffs, I don’t let the waves of panic consume me.

  With Luke’s hand in mine, safety no longer feels like an illusion. I don’t fool myself into thinking that I won’t have to think about the attack’s aftermath. The police will descend soon, with their sympathies and their never-ending questions and their friends who just happen to work for the local paper. But my chest no longer feels like it could cave in. It’s enough.

  Holden is trying at best to keep the vultures at bay, but I know that he can’t hold out forever. As he talks to one of the officers, his voice rises in anger, and his protests trickle over the hushed voices in the gathering crowd.

  “I can provide an accurate first-hand account. There’s no need to exacerbate the situation by dragging both of them through an inquisition. Give them some time to put together their thoughts. Maybe they can come down to the station tomorrow to make a report.”

  The officer throws his hands up in exasperation. “She’s the victim.”

  Holden’s eyes meet mine across the parking lot, and he shoots me a quick, apologetic glance. I can’t hear his next words, but I see the outline of his words. “Do you know who she is? Stella Granger.”

  The officer is incredulous. “Granger? That Granger? The little girl?”

  Luke takes my hand more tightly into his grasp. “It’s going to be okay, Stella bella. It’s over.”

  “I don’t want to go with them.” I feel a little stupid, begging Luke for help, since I know there’s not a damn thing he can
do about it, but I say it anyway. “I don’t want to answer their questions. I don’t want to go to the station. Please.”

  “Then you won’t have to.”

  Foolishly or not, I believe him.

  The officer with Holden shoots me a dubious glance, and his expression only changes when an older man, wearing a suit instead of a uniform, approaches him and whispers something in his ear.

  When I see that the man in the suit is Ian Daniels, I can’t contain the quick burst of relief. As the lead officer on my case, Ian spent hours in my hospital room, trying to coax the truth from my memories. He told me funny stories about his little girl, who loved Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and no-bake cookies, and he was the first person to make me laugh again. If it has to be anyone, it should, by all rights, be him.

  Holden shoots me a questioning look and I give him a quick nod. Even so, my heart beats a little faster as Ian approaches, the lines of deep sorrow clearly etched into his face.

  There are different triggers for flashbacks. Don’t let down your guard.

  I don’t do that, but I do clench Luke’s hand more tightly. He extends the other to Ian. “Hello.”

  “Luke. I wish we were meeting under different circumstances.” Ian inspects his injuries with a practiced eye and gives the gash on Luke’s arm a grim nod. I’m consoled by the fact that he doesn’t seem overly concerned by anything he finds. “Hell, at least you look better than the last time I saw you.”

  Even my delusional self knows that Luke looks terrible. I give both of them a sideways glance, but Ian crouches down and turns his attention to me before I can ask him what he means.

  “Stella. I’m so sorry it had to end like this. It was the same man? The one who attacked you before?”

  I raise my chin. “The same man who killed my brother.”

  Ian closes his eyes briefly before his mouth sets in a firm line. “We’ll try our best to get a confession for Jack. We’ll get it, one way or another.”

  I know what comes next. Questions. Confusion. I stumble to my feet.

  “Let’s get this over with.”

  Ian nods towards one of the ambulances. “After the paramedics clear you, we’ll need both of you to come to the station and make a report.”

  “No.” Luke shakes his head, and he and Ian exchange a long look that I don’t entirely understand. “You will get the statement here, and then Stella is going home. She’s been through enough.”

  I’m grateful for his efforts, but I know how this works. After the endless questions, there will be papers to sign and forms to fill out and more people to speak with, and on and on and on until my head spins and I can’t remember my own name, let alone what happened here.

  To my very great surprise, Ian nods in agreement. “Fine. We’ll get your statements on site. After that, you can leave, under the condition that the paramedics determine that you don’t have any serious injuries. Your parents are already on their way, Stella. They can take you home after we’re finished.”

  My heart aches. I had forgotten about that part. When the vision of my mother picking up the phone to hear an unfamiliar voice telling her that there’s been “an incident” floats into my head, I let out a soft, low cry. They’ve been through enough.

  Luke senses the source of my distress. “They’ll see you for themselves in a few minutes. Jack’s killer is in custody. Caroline and Tom are strong. It’s going to be fine.”

  Ian inclines his head in agreement before turning to face Luke. “Come on, son. We need to talk to you two separately. And you need to get that stitched up.”

  Luke makes a grumbling noise that clearly indicates that he does not intend to get anything stitched up. I touch his good arm.

  “Please. The sooner we do this, the sooner it will really be all over. Please.”

  He looks irritated, but he nods finally, and Ian hands him off to a female paramedic.

  “We’ll get you all taken care of,” she croons.

  I notice that her eyes linger over his body as she quickly assesses the damage. She even skims her hand over his shoulder as she leads him away. Ugh.

  “Paramedics shouldn’t wear lipstick. They should be concentrating on saving people’s lives,” I mutter.

  Ian chuckles. “There’s no need to worry about that boy looking at anyone’s lipstick but yours, Stella Granger. I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’ve never seen anyone as devastated as he was over you. He sat outside the door of your room for damn near two weeks. Wouldn’t let any of us near you until you had that last surgery and your family was sure you were out of the woods.”

  I can’t hide my astonishment. I thought Luke had run away. I thought he hadn’t cared enough to try to see me. I start to ask Ian a hundred questions, but he just sighs and gives me a knowing look.

  “It’s outside of my job description to explain the mysteries of why men do what they do. You’ll need to ask him that.”

  “But…”

  “Like you said earlier, let’s get this over with.” His mouth twitches. “Then you can browbeat Luke into telling you whatever you want to know. I can’t think that he would deny you anything tonight.”

  “Sneaky,” I manage, tilting my head towards him.

  “Just trying to make it a little easier.” He nudges his head towards an open ambulance. “Come on.”

  The questions are endless, just like I expected, but it helps that Ian is the one who asks them. I answer truthfully and simply, saving my words for other conversations that desperately need to be happen before the morning comes. I let a soft-handed woman tend to the scrapes and cuts across my arms and legs. Shielded by the ambulance and by a small army of officers, I watch the crowd swell with photographers. I see Holden, exhausted from the effort of explanation, lose his temper and then find it again.

  Just as Ian snaps the lid of the voice recorder case shut, I see my parents rushing towards the ambulance, panic clearly written all over their features. I can’t wait for them to reach me, so I step out of the safe cocoon and run towards them, finally using that burst of speed.

  “Thank god,” my dad whispers. “Stella, you don’t know…”

  I wrap my hands around his neck, trying to prove that I really am safe. It’s not an illusion anymore, I want to cry.

  When he releases me, his hungry eyes check me for invisible injuries, but he isn’t fully satisfied until he’s interrogated every one of the paramedics and half of the police force. Finally, Ian takes pity on me and distracts him with a full run-down on the man with the glittering black eyes, the man who killed my brother and his son.

  Even after long minutes of tears, my mother is about a step away from total hysteria, so as my father continues to pepper Ian with questions, I hug her tightly to my chest. It’s not a totally selfless act; I need her warmth just as much as she needs mine.

  When her arms loosen without warning, I turn around to find Luke striding across the parking lot, unconcerned by the pretty paramedic chasing after him. He gives me a pained glance as my mother sweeps both of us into her embrace.

  She brushes the bandage on his cheek with her fingers. “Luke, you’ll never know…”

  “I do know, Caroline. It’s going to be okay,” he whispers softly, repeating his words to me. “It’s all going to be okay.”

  After long minutes, an impatient Ian coughs loudly and interrupts us.

  “Stella, Luke, both of you are free to leave. I’m sure we’ll need your cooperation in the upcoming weeks and months, but for now, I think your statements should be sufficient. Tom, Caroline, I’ll expect you at the station as soon as you get Stella safely home. We have some questions and some forms for you to fill out.”

  The tightness in his voice tells me that he’s going to catch hell for not dragging us down to the station, even though my father has obviously volunteered to go in our place.

  I try to express my gratitude, but he cuts off my words with a gruff look. “Take care of yourself, Ms. Granger. Go easy on him.”

&n
bsp; Ian and I exchange a brief smile before he walks away.

  My mother rubs her hand over my back. “Come on, baby. Let’s get out of here.”

  Then, my father starts to lead me towards the car. I pull away as delicately as I can. It kills me to disappoint them. I’ve done it so many times over the past three years that I’ve lost count. But I can’t go home with them. Not yet.

  I wrap my arms around myself and try to stand my ground. “I have to talk to Luke. I’m fine. I’m not going to have a relapse, and I’m not going to disappear again. I’m not just saying it this time. I wish I could come home right now, but I really, really need to talk to Luke. Alone.”

  My father is not pleased, and that’s probably the understatement of the year. “You could have been killed! You are coming home with us, and that is absolutely final. I won’t hear another word about it. You can talk to Luke in the morning.”

  “There’s a reason that I wasn’t killed, Dad, and that reason is Luke. He saved my life. Again. I need to talk to him, and, no, it cannot wait until tomorrow.”

  “Stella, it’s not…”

  I swivel and give Luke an imitation of my mother’s most imperious glare. When his protests are fully silenced, he nods, shuffling his feet.

  My mother’s eyes dart back and forth between Luke and me, and for once, I meet her gaze head-on. I don’t bother to hide any of my emotions, and understanding slowly creeps into her expression. She tenderly sweeps the hair from my eyes and exchanges a long, pointed look with my father.

  “Tom, we have business to take care of at the police station, and I can’t bear to think about Stella staying in an empty house. Luke will bring her home tomorrow.”

  He starts to bellow, I start to whine, and Luke starts to give in, but my mother’s quiet voice silences all of us.

  “There’s nothing to worry about. Luke will take care of Stella. He’s never let me down before.”

  I think I’m the only one who catches the subtle warning in her words, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same. She brushes kisses over both of our cheeks before dragging my poor, oblivious, grumbling father to the car.