Path of Destruction

by Cara Dee

  "Adeline?"

  I looked over my shoulder, seeing a woman and her child walking from their car. As they got closer, I saw it was Kim, one of the mothers who'd been used by Dr. Houston.

  "Hey." I offered an awkward wave.

  I'd tried it all. With her and two others, I'd done everything from pleading and rationalizing, to using guilt and telling my own background with abuse. Yet, they didn’t want to step forward, and I'd sworn not to tell anyone. My hands were tied. They agreed to… To be honest, I didn’t know, but whatever it was, the women got off with discounts or medication. Where Dr. Houston even got the medicine from, I didn’t know.

  "We have an appointment…" she explained unnecessarily.

  I inclined my head. "The door's open. Dr. Houston will let you know when he's ready."

  She flinched slightly and forced a smile. "Thank you, Adeline." She went inside with her daughter, and I turned back to Lincoln.

  He raised his brows. "That was uncomfortable."

  "She's one of the mothers," I admitted. "I hate that I can't help her."

  He looked out over the parking lot, then back at the clinic.

  Would he approve of my farfetched dream? "I…I've decided to go back to school," I said. "Or maybe back isn't the right word." I never went to college in the first place. "I thought I'd take a business class."

  "Oh?" Lincoln was surprised by that. "Guess I never took you for one to study business."

  "I'm not," I was quick to say, and I chuckled uncomfortably. Perhaps my feelings were returning in that regard because I suddenly felt vulnerable. Dreams, or goals, rather, were new for me. "I want to start something. Madigan suggested business. I mean, it's going to take years, but one day I want to be able to help others. In a way I can't do now." The last part was mumbled.

  "I'm listening." He flicked away his cigarette and blew out some smoke. "Who do you wanna help?"

  I lifted a shoulder. "People like me? Women, children, men…anyone who needs a safe house. Sort of like a shelter? Specifically, for those running away from abuse." I chanced a glance at him. "It's not too dumb, is it?"

  He tilted his head at me. "Do you think it's dumb?"

  Bastard.

  He caught me. I wasn’t giving myself enough credit.

  "No, it's not dumb."

  He smiled and jerked his chin at the door. "Let's get this shit over with, and then I wanna hear more about your idea."

  *

  Dr. Anderson appeared in the doorway to his office a few minutes past eight, and I asked Lincoln to wait for me outside. I'd already agreed to let him come in if he saw the only other doctor working here join in on our meeting.

  Kim and her son were with Dr. Houston, though, so I hoped it would only be Dr. Anderson and me.

  I didn’t want to jinx myself this morning, which was why I hadn't changed into my scrubs. I sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk in jeans and a blouse.

  "Are you feeling better today?" he wondered.

  It took me a second to remember I'd called in sick yesterday. "Yes, sir."

  "Good." He nodded and tented his fingers on the desk. "John came to me with some concerns yesterday." He spoke of Dr. Houston. "Do you by any chance know what I'm referring to?"

  "Yes." Because fuck him. Fuck Dr. Houston all the way to hell. He was not going to get away with lies. "I don't know exactly what bullshit he fed you, but I'm sure it was something I've done. Which is most likely a lie, unless it involves me trying to get his patients' mothers to confess he's used them sexually."

  Dr. Anderson became guarded, and he sat up straighter. "That’s a serious accusation, Adeline. I don’t believe I need to remind you of that." He paused. "Tell me your side of the story, please."

  Suddenly it was a relief to be removed from the situation, from giving a crap whether I was fired or not, and for the first time, I was brutally honest with Dr. Anderson. I told him his friend and colleague had made advances from before I was hired. I admitted the terms I knew of, the implication behind "we can always work something out," and I felt anger rising. Goddammit, was I going to be closed off or heated? I had to make up my damn mind.

  "In the following months," I continued, "I could tell a difference between the women who walked out after sessions with Dr. Houston. First of all, why some of these women would be here without their children should be enough to raise suspicion." There were only so many times "I forgot to pick up my daughter's prescription" worked before it became obvious.

  "What you're saying…" Dr. Anderson struggled to phrase himself. "You're implying he's intimate with several of our patients' mothers?"

  "Yeah, and it's always the same type." I thought of the expressions of shame I'd seen and how little I could do about it. Getting frustrated and angrier, I did my best to stay calm as I explained there were three women who'd admitted parts of what they went through. Always the same deal. Women like me who couldn’t afford pride or dignity.

  In his defense, Dr. Anderson listened, for which I was grateful. He could've just as well scoffed and told me I was out of line.

  "For the same reasons, they don’t want to step forward—" I was cut off by the sound of the door behind me opening, and I went rigid. He's supposed to be with a patient. It could only be him. One peek over my shoulder, and there he was. Behind his faint smile was an undercurrent of threat.

  "We're in the middle of something here," Dr. Anderson told him.

  "It concerns me too, doesn’t it?" Dr. Houston strolled over with his hands down in his pockets.

  I clenched my teeth together, hating every little thing about him.

  Then I remembered Lincoln, and he opened the door and joined us, too. Thank God. I was human, for chrissakes. Facing both doctors was more than a little intimidating.

  Dr. Houston frowned at him. "This is a private meeting, sir—"

  "Hey, how about another word and I'll cut off your balls, man?" Lincoln remained casual, allowing me to relax more, and he sat down next me. Even so, making threats was stupid; the risk was too great, so I gave his hand an extra hard squeeze. "I didn’t mean to interrupt." He slid his steely gaze to Dr. Anderson. "You guys talk. I'll listen. But I promised my girl to get in here if he did." He nodded at Dr. Houston.

  Dr. Anderson faced me, his expression serious. "Are you afraid of John, Adeline?"

  That wasn’t the question I'd expected. He must have the patience of a saint if the two new presences in the room didn’t so much as ruffle his feathers.

  "Not anymore," I answered carefully. "I wouldn’t want to be alone with him, but I've had it with his intimidation tactics and disgusting behavior."

  Dr. Houston chuckled, though a severe glare from Lincoln shut him up.

  "Actually, I'm done here," I heard myself saying. And my brain caught up to me. I was done. I looked at Dr. Houston and saw a bully—a dangerous one. "Dr. Anderson, in the year I've worked here, I've come to really respect you. You're fair, smart, and wonderful with your patients—as well as their parents. Since Dr. Houston is a close friend of yours, I ask that you think about what I've said and that you ask him. Ask him as a friend, do an inventory of samples and written prescriptions—I don't care. You have my number, and I will gladly work here. But not as long as he's around. I can't."

  I wanted nothing more than for Dr. Houston to go down in a dramatic, humiliating, fiery explosion. Unfortunately, this was life, and life wasn’t fair. I'd have to wait to see if there would even be a fizzle of satisfaction.

  A storm was brewing inside me as I left his office. Lincoln followed me out. My fingers itched. There was a hitch in my breath, and my cramps came back with a vengeance. What have I done? Oh, fuck it! No more. Dammit, today I stood up for myself, and I fought my own battle. I refused to question anything.

  "Oh my God." I pushed the door open and took a deep breath. Snow mingled with rain, and I didn’t know where my coat was—never mind, Lincoln had it.

  "Come here." Lincoln pulled me aside on the sidewalk and cuppe
d my cheeks, forcing me to look him in the eye. "I'm proud of you, okay? I don’t think this could've gone any other way."

  "I'm so freaking torn," I admitted. "I understand why those mothers won't come forward, and now what? In the unlikely event that Dr. Anderson sees his friend for who he is, what's gonna happen to them?"

  He sighed and hugged me to him. "To be blunt? You win some, you lose some. You gotta focus on the women you probably saved from him."

  Right, except it didn’t feel like I'd saved anyone, and it hurt to tell him that.

  In return, he looked down at me with a half-sad, half-wry smile. "I know that feeling."

  What did he—oh. God, of course he did. I was such an idiot.

  He wanted to save me at one point.

  "But, Ade? Look at it this way. You've had the shittiest sense of self-worth, and you've beaten yourself up for as long as I've known you." He wiped away a melting snowflake from my nose. "You've never been spoiled, but you know what status is. You've compared yourself to those with titles and money, and today you told one of those fat cats to go fuck himself. You put your fine ass in the same league and finally acted like someone who knows her worth."

  I nodded slowly, processing, and looked down at the ground. "Thank you, Lincoln." His confirmation on what I'd already thought—about standing up for myself—mattered a lot. I took comfort from it. Then, because I was still me, I whacked him hard in the arm. "Don't ever threaten a scumbag again, idiot. Do you know how easy it would've been for him to call your parole officer?"

  "He'd have to know who I am first," he replied.

  "Not the point!"

  He grabbed on to my arms to stop them from swinging again, and then he began walking me to my truck. "You know what's funny? You never had any issue putting me in my place."

  I shrugged. "I never took you seriously."

  I yelped as he pinched my ass.

  Kidding aside…? I never feared Lincoln.

  *

  Keith arrived a few days later, providing enough of a distraction for me not to go nuts. Dr. Anderson hadn't called yet, so aside from my part-time job at the hotel, I was practically a housewife.

  I hated it.

  Bills were about to appear, and I'd be forced to watch Lincoln take care of them.

  "What happened to us being in this together? What happened to splitting the burden?"

  I lost count of the times he used those words against me.

  Maybe I had issues giving up control. I was working on it, dammit.

  Keith was like a pig in shit, however. We celebrated Abel's birthday and did little outings as a family, and Keith asked to be there when we told Abel and Jesse about our move.

  Keith's talk of it kind of made it real, too. We were actually leaving. We were starting fresh in another state, another part of the country, and it was slowly filling me with excitement.

  A dream of mine was a goal now, and it was freaking happening. We went out to dinner one night, looking so much like any other family that I couldn’t stop smiling.

  This is it.

  Abel spoke animatedly about why the Red Wings were better than—well, any other team, and Lincoln asked if he wanted to be a professional hockey player one day. Which got Keith going with camps, tryouts, and stats.

  Jesse was…coming around? He didn’t speak much to Lincoln, but he'd dropped the glares. I noticed he observed a lot. Madigan noticed it too, and he leaned in.

  "I think he's got the same problem you do." He kept his voice low. "He's been the man of the house for years."

  I hummed, stabbing a piece of chicken with my fork. It made sense. Jesse had grown up too fast. Now there were others around him offering to share the burden, and perhaps he was struggling to let go, too. The fact that he was technically an adult now probably didn’t make it easier.

  "What's that crap you tell me?" I asked quietly. "About lovers and fighters?"

  Well, I knew what my issue was with that saying now. We fought when we loved—when we cared enough—and it was time to stop fighting against ourselves. Fears and insecurities were evil. They made us fight, because we cared so much. Jesse and I needed to fight for this instead. 'Cause, in the end, we wanted the same thing. We all did.

  Madigan chuckled and rested his arm along the back of my chair. "It's a joke, hon."

  It wasn’t, though. It was clear as day. We felt passionately, and so we fought.

  "How would you describe it?" He looked curious now. "Are you a lover or a fighter?"

  "Yes." I was both. "I fight when I love."

  And I was done siding with my irrational fears. It wouldn’t get me what I claimed to fight for.

  Taking a sip of my wine, I thought of what to say. I grew nervous, but it had nothing on my new determination. I finally had my priorities in order. No more self-destruction or nitpicking over things that didn’t matter in the end.

  "Can I say something, guys?"

  They looked at me one by one, the other conversations dropping, and I was quick to grab Lincoln's hand under the table. It was almost symbolic that he sat at the head, because ultimately it was where I wanted him.

  "I didn’t have this when I grew up," I said. "Family dinners—or a family at all—and for a long time, I ran away whenever something scared me." I met Jesse's guarded gaze, and Lincoln squeezed my hand. "Your dad showed me. I'll always love him for that, Jesse. And if he were here today, he would tell us to get our acts together. He is, and always will be, part of our family." I swallowed and took a breath. "So are Lincoln and Keith—"

  "And me," Madigan said. "I'm here, too. Thanks for mentioning me."

  Abel laughed, and I smacked Madigan's shoulder.

  "You were here before too, genius." I tried to hide my grin and shook my head. Ass. "Anyway. We will actually have a new addition to our family soon—"

  "You're pregnant?" Madigan exclaimed in shock.

  "No!" But ouch. "Jesus Christ, I will gag you," I swore. "God. I'm talking about Casey. Let's face it, we're a mixed bunch of misfits here, and I get the feeling he knows what that’s like, too."

  Lincoln said nothing but leaned in and kissed my temple.

  "I don’t know him yet," I went on. "He gets out in November or something, and when he does, he'll have a place with us." I hesitated and peered up at Lincoln, 'cause this was it, and he better not change his mind. "We want to start fresh—together, all of us." I focused on Abel and Jesse for this. The others knew, and Madigan may have shouted "fucking finally" when he found out.

  "We're looking at houses in Washington." Lincoln surprised me by speaking up.

  Abel perked up. "Keith lives there."

  I smiled.

  "I sure do, kiddo." Keith grinned. "You're gonna love it out there." As he launched into stories about the wilderness, the sports available at Abel's new school, summer camps, and the best apple pie America had ever seen, I turned my attention to Jesse.

  I could only describe his expression as stoic.

  "Let me," Lincoln said quietly.

  Okay, sitting back, listening—I could do that.

  "Have you given any more thought to college, kid?" Lincoln asked Jesse. "The offer's still on the table."

  Jesse shrugged vaguely. "I don’t know. I hardly need Ivy League to become a social worker."

  Lincoln inclined his head. "Fair enough. Either way, you've got choices." He paused, straightening in his seat. "I'm gonna be honest with you, Jesse. After everything that’s happened here, I can't stay. Walking down the street won't catapult me into panic or nothin', but I wanna enjoy the place I live in. Does that make sense?" He waited for Jesse's reply that came in half a shrug, half a nod. "If you're happy here, though, the last thing I wanna do is make you leave. I reckon, you've got all the time in the world to explore where you wanna end up. Four college years to start with."

  I struggled to keep quiet there, because I happened to know Jesse wasn’t overly attached to Detroit. It was a city, like any other. We'd ended up here for reasons that had n
othing to do with preference. Morgan had needed help with the boys, so he'd moved back because his aunt still lived here then. Now she was in Tennessee. Home wasn’t here because of the location.

  "I hope you'll consider moving with us, though," Lincoln told him, and I was quick to agree. I wanted us in one place. "Had you been a few years younger, I could've been a dick and not give you any choice. Unfortunately, you're legal."

  I grinned because of how true that was. I wanted to force him. I didn’t want him to have a choice. How did other parents deal with their kids picking colleges far away? I would obviously suck at it.

  "Noted." Jesse rolled his eyes. "Can we move on now?"

  "I'd prefer it if you agreed to move with us first," I said. "Don't make me pull out the pout."

  He sighed heavily. "I guess Washington isn't the worst state."

  "That’s a teenager's way of saying yes," Madigan informed us.

  I scrunched my nose. "He's not a teenager."

  "Exactly."

  "Piss off." Jesse threw a roll at Madigan.

  "Happy, happy family…" I took a swig from my wine.

  "I can't fucking wait to have beer," Lincoln groaned.

  Chapter 34

  Lincoln Hayes

  A few days after Pop had returned home, Jesse knocked on my door.

  "Got a minute?" he asked.

  "Yeah, sure." I came home from work ten minutes ago, so I was starving. Ade didn’t call for dinner until six, and I couldn’t wait that long. "Everything okay?" 'Cause he didn’t really exchange words with me otherwise.

  "Yeah… I have some questions." He parked his ass at the table. "This move to Washington, is that it? I mean, what's your plan for everyone? Are you saying you're completely done with fame and all that?"

  My mouth twitched. "Sounds like you're asking about my intentions." After putting some leftovers in the microwave, I joined him at the table. "Honestly? I'm tired. In prison, you gotta have a special mentality. I can rest and shoot the shit with other inmates, but I can never really power down. I wanna be able to do that now."