by Jordan Dane
She gave them the latest from the doctors. When she was done, she said what she’d been thinking since they found him, but had never said aloud until now. She had to be sure he’d survive.
“He’s lucky,” she said. “We all are.”
***
Two days later
Ryker Townsend
Pain meds worked unless I blinked, or breathed, or my hair follicles grew. I tried not to do any of those things.
Lucinda Crowley kept me company during hospital visiting hours. Hutch and Cam made an appearance and I recalled Sinead Royce’s voice over the phone, but Crowley had become my most lucid memory during those first days. I’d narrowly missed a punctured lung and my ankle required pins. I had broken a bone.
Crowley brought me contraband food whenever the nurses weren’t looking. Shakes, French fries, donuts. I didn’t know if she was trying to kill me. I couldn’t eat much, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her to stop. I’d been grateful for her company.
She bought me peculiar Get Well gifts—whatever struck her fancy—that would make me laugh. My favorite had been a Sponge Bob Chia Pet. She’d planted the seeds in the most inappropriate spots and Bob had already begun to sprout. If Sponge Bob was allowed to reach his full glory, hospital staff would be grateful for me to leave and take him with me.
With Crowley, she distracted me and kept my demons at bay. There were moments I would’ve laughed if it didn’t hurt. She made me happy, but when visiting hours were over, the darkness of the case closed in on me.
In my hospital room at night, I stared out the window and wrestled with my ghosts between fits of broken sleep. I sometimes heard Justine whispering next to me in the dark whenever I dozed off—as if she was lying next to me. I’d wake drenched in cold night sweats, panting until I choked.
Death is powerful. Once someone is marked, no one can stop it, not even you.
Her whisper had brushed my ear. I felt it. I knew she would stay with me until I could let her go, but I needed her. She reminded me how close I’d come.
You’re the voice of the dead. You watch over them, but who watches over you?
Who, indeed? I remembered what she had said about living alone. …there’s no one there to stop you. At the time I’d seen her through the mirror of my life and thought she meant the many ways I’d sabotaged my life by erecting absurd barriers to keep others out.
Now her words carried the weight of a different meaning.
I’d survived and my body would heal, but I’d never be the same. Justine Peterson had changed me forever. I’d accepted and trusted who she was because of her uniform. I could’ve easily become another one of her victims if I hadn’t ‘listened’ to my gift and heeded my whale dream.
I wasn’t stupid enough to believe I’d ever been invulnerable because I carried a gun and worked with the FBI, but I could’ve been tortured and killed by Justine. My team would’ve processed my body, whole or in parts. The thought of that chilled me. Now any victim I’d meet in the future, I’d see my face behind their eyes.
Perhaps that was a good thing. I hadn’t arrived at an answer.
Lucinda had spent the morning with me, flipping channels on the TV, saying whatever came to her mind, and sneaking glances at her watch. I’m not a nervous guy, but she could’ve changed that if she’d kept it up.
“What’s wrong? Are you having a Korean food withdrawal?”
“Ah, no, but…”
I scrunched my face and it hurt.
“But what?”
“I made a call,” she said. “I’m not sure how you’re gonna take it…is all, but I gotta go. We can chat later, if you’re still talking to me.”
Crowley ducked out before I could dazzle her with a witty comeback. She shut the door to my hospital room, something she didn’t normally do. When I heard voices outside in the hall, I knew I was about to find out exactly what she meant. I propped up my pillows and waited.
I have to admit, when my sister Sarah walked into the room, I had nothing to say. I was stunned. I never thought I’d see her again. Sarah’s face flushed red. She stood near the door, far from my bed. When she cleared her throat, I didn’t rush her. I had no idea what she would say.
“After you left, I felt terrible,” she began. “I hurt you. I saw it in your eyes, but I couldn’t stop.”
“You have your family to think of. I get that,” I said. “You don’t have to—”
“Let me finish…please.”
A tear fell down her cheek and she wiped it away. I nodded and kept my mouth shut.
“You were right about the guilt I have over…the accident. I should’ve believed you. I should have trusted you and told mom and dad not to go.” Sarah broke down. I wanted to hold her, but she kept her distance. “Deep down inside, I think that’s why I’ve shut you out. You reminded me of what I did and I didn’t want to face it. I’m not strong like you.”
I reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand near my bed and offered her one. She took a handful and kept talking.
“I wanted to punish you…for what I did. That wasn’t fair. It never was.” She choked back a sob. “I can’t make up for the years I disowned you, but…”
She wiped her blotched face with the tissues and took a deep breath before she went to the hospital room door.
“I have some special people in my life who I want you to meet. And I want them to meet you.”
Sarah opened the door and a man stepped into the room holding a little girl.
“Jake, this is my brother, Ryker.” Fresh tears trailed down her cheeks. “I told Jake everything. And I told Amanda she has an uncle.”
The little girl with soft brown ringlets and large blue eyes smiled at me and I lost it. I looked at my sister and mouthed the words, ‘thank you.’ Whatever past we had, I would put it behind me and start fresh.
As I stared into Sarah’s eyes—the eyes that always reminded me of our mother—I felt the love of my mother and father. I think Sarah did, too.
***
Ryker Townsend
As morning visiting hours approached on my fourth day in the hospital, I found myself eager for Crowley to appear. Lucinda. It would take time to get accustomed to using her first name. Lucinda gave me something to look forward to. I didn’t have to wait long. She came early and had an armful of gifts. I smelled baked goods and my stomach growled. My appetite would be good today.
“Before you regale me with whatever adventures you’ve had this morning, I have something to say.”
She narrowed her eyes and set down the bags.
“Okay. I’m listening.”
I heaved a sigh and fixed my eyes on her. She gave me courage to say what I needed to.
“I stared at this idiot the other day…for a long time.” I chewed the inside of my lip and stayed the course. “As he looked back at me in the mirror, I realized you’d been right. I shouldn’t have shut you out like I did. I could’ve died because of…this thing with me. We need to talk. Actually I need to talk and it would help if you listened so I don’t feel like a total idiot.”
“I can do that.”
I told her everything and she made it easy. She listened and didn’t push me. I told her about what happened with my parents and why my sister Sarah hadn’t wanted anything to do with me. I shared how I feared the FBI would not understand my gift. That’s why I’d kept everything a secret and still wanted to. Without my job, my life and my visions would be wasted and I’d feel like a freak even more than usual.
“So this thing you do…you get visions…like a psychic?”
“You said the ‘P’ word. I may never forgive you.”
“Try, Ryker. I’m just trying to get my head wrapped around all of this.”
“Yes, I understand. I get these odd nightmares. My mother called them visions. They’re important for my work, but I live in fear I’ll lose my job because no one will understand. They’ll treat me differently and talk behind my back.”
“They already do that.”
“Good to know.”
“So except for my stellar reputation as a highly sympathetic human being, why me? Why did you suddenly decide to tell me? Not that I’m complaining.”
I knew exactly why I had decided to share my secret with Lucinda, but she had been the one to kiss me. Before I went any further, I had to understand why she’d done it.
“Before I answer, I need to know why you kissed me.”
“Yeah, about that kiss,” Lucinda stammered. “I’d been…worried. Call it a heat of the moment kind of thing. I mean…hell, I thought you were dead.”
“Is this multiple choice? Do I pick one?”
“You’re not making this simple.”
“Simple isn’t something we do, is it?” I meant it as a rhetorical question, but Lucinda furrowed her brow to ponder it as if I’d asked her to explain Einstein’s theory of relativity. She had a hard time looking at me.
“Now…about that kiss,” I said. I made the mistake of taking a breath and Lucinda took advantage of the two second lull.
“Yeah, about that,” she said. “I promise it won’t happen again. I barely remember doing it actually. I mean, it wasn’t like I…ever thought of kissing you before.”
“Lucinda.”
She ignored me.
“You’re my b-boss,” she stammered. “I thought you w-were—”
“Lucinda.”
“…dead, but you’re not, so everything can go back to normal.”
“Yes, if I were dead, we would have to redefine our relationship.” I nodded. “I see your point.”
“Should I stop talking now?”
I shrugged and said, “I would never suggest it. I’m rather enjoying our…conversation.”
“Conversation takes two…generally.”
“Yes, another excellent point. If I may, I have something to say.”
She crossed her arms and said, “By all means, proceed.”
“You once accused me of being a bomb about to go off. You said I had a fuse burning. And me, being an asshole, I told you the day I imploded, I would think of you.” I heaved a sigh and fixed my gaze on her. “Well, when I was drugged and thought I would die, I did think of you.”
“Thought…what exactly?”
“I thought of you and I felt…safe. And—”
“And what?”
“I may have thought about…kissing. Of course I can’t be held responsible. I was under the influence of a powerful hallucinogen.”
“Is that the screech of you backpedaling?” She grinned. Her smile didn’t last long. “But I work for you. If we want something more, we can’t—” She didn’t finish. Lucinda shook her head and said, “I’m not sure what this is, but it could turn into…the beginning of the end.”
“Or it could be just the end of the beginning.” I reached for her hand and entwined my fingers in hers.
Lucinda didn’t have anything to say. Her eyes welled with tears she didn’t try to hide and she squeezed my hand. I didn’t know where any of this would lead, but I did know I could trust her with more than my secret. I would trust her with my heart.
If she didn’t hock it for grocery money, I liked our odds.
About the Author
Bestselling, critically-acclaimed author Jordan Dane’s gritty thrillers are ripped from the headlines with vivid settings, intrigue, and dark humor. Publishers Weekly compared her intense novels to Lisa Jackson, Lisa Gardner, and Tami Hoag, naming her debut novel No One Heard her Scream as Best Books of 2008. She also pens young-adult novels for Harlequin Teen. Formerly an energy sales manager, she now writes full time. Jordan shares her Texas residence with two lucky rescue dogs.
Connect with Jordan Dane:
Website http://www.JordanDane.com
Twitter http://www.twitter.com/JordanDane
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/JordanDaneAuthor
Pinterest http://pinterest.com/jordandane/
Thriller/Crime Fiction Blogs:
The Kill Zone http://killzoneauthors.blogspot.com/
Bibliography
Avon/HarperCollins titles:
No One Heard her Scream (Apr 2008)
No One Left to Tell (May 2008)
No One Lives Forever (Jun 2008)
Evil without a Face (Feb 2009)
The Wrong Side of Dead (Nov 2009)
The Echo of Violence (Sep 2010)
Reckoning for the Dead (Oct 2011)
Young Adult novels:
In the Arms of Stone Angels (Young Adult, Harlequin Teen Apr 2011)
On a Dark Wing (Young Adult, Harlequin Teen Jan 2012)
Indigo Awakening (Young Adult, book 1in The Hunted series, 2012)
Crystal Storm (Young Adult, book 2 in The Hunted series 2013)
Young Adult anthologies:
Nyx in the House of Night Anthology- The Magic of Being Cherokee essay (Smart Pop books, Jun 2011)
Cosas Finas Publications:
Blood Score (July 2013) – Crime Fiction Novel
Sex, Death and Moist Towelettes – Short Story Anthology
One Author’s Aha Moments – Non-fiction author craft book with a focus on writing YA