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Finding Scarlet

Page 8

by Holly C. Webb


  “Okay,” I said trying to take in what I was being told. I looked over at Jaime who was standing just behind the doctor and she gave me a reassuring smile. I smiled back, but inside I felt numb.

  This was like a never-ending nightmare. I had no recollection of anything before waking in the hospital, but now I had a permanent reminder of that night, I had epilepsy. I would have fits and be on medication for the rest of my life. I would never be allowed to move on from this bad dream. I just wanted it to be all over for once and for all. I wondered if it ever would be.

  The doctor continued to talk but I was only half listening. I wanted to close my eyes and curl up into a ball on the bed. I just felt tired. I had almost shut off completely when I heard the words I had been dying to hear.

  “We have a few more tests to run tomorrow,” he said closing my chart. “As long as there are no more complications, I think you should be well enough to be discharged the following day.”

  “I can go home?” I asked, wanting to be sure I heard correctly.

  “Yes,” the doctor said with a smile. “We can make arrangements with the police department to put you up at a hotel until we have somewhere a little more permanent arranged for you.”

  “Actually,” I replied, and I could feel my face burn slightly with embarrassment, though I wasn’t sure why. “I have somewhere to go. Oliver, I mean Detective Caldwell, he said his parents have offered to let me stay with them until I am fully back on my feet.”

  “That sounds exactly like the Caldwell’s,” he smiled as he stood up. “I have known Tom Caldwell most of my life. He is one of the good guys.”

  “I can believe that,” I nodded and smiled as I thought of Oliver.

  “I will call in on you in the morning once the tests are completed,” he said as he walked to the door. He reached for the handle but stopped and turned back to me. “I know what happened to you is horrific, and to most, unimaginable. But you survived it. Despite all the odds, you are alive. Don’t let this become who you are. You need to go out there and live life to the fullest.”

  “I will,” I replied with another smile. He nodded before he turned and walked out of my room.

  “I will be back in a few minutes,” Jaime said as she followed the doctor out of the room. I flopped back on my bed and thought about what he had said.

  Don’t let this become who you are.

  I thought about those words, repeating them over and over in my head. I didn’t want this to be who I was. I didn’t want what happened to define me, but right now, my entire history was the girl who was shot in the head and lived. I hadn’t the first clue who I was before this. Not even my name.

  I reached up and touched the locket that was hanging around my neck. It was my only link to a past life that I knew nothing of. I reached around and unfastened it then slipped it from my neck. Holding it in the palm of my hand, I traced across the engraved heart on the front of the locket.

  I picked it up and turned it over in my hand. I ran my fingers along the engraving on the back as I read the words over and over in my mind.

  To Scarlet, with love, Sx

  Who was S? Did he love me? Did I love him? Where was he now and why hadn’t he come looking for me?

  There were so many questions that I just didn’t have the answers to. I wondered if I ever would. I opened the locket and stared at the picture inside. It was of me, possibly about ten or eleven years old. I looked happy. How did this happy girl, end up all alone in the world?

  Suddenly, there was a soft tap on the door. I called out to whoever it was to come in and waited expectantly, the now familiar feeling of dread washed over me, not knowing who would walk through my door. I wished for one day I didn’t have to feel this fear.

  The door opened and the policeman that was stationed outside my door, stuck his head through the gap and smiled.

  “Hi there, Scarlet,” he said nervously, as he stepped into the room. He was holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, but these were just delivered. I have checked them, and they appear to be fine. Shall I set them down on your windowsill?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I said, surprised someone would send me flowers. I watched him as he set them down carefully on the window.

  “There is a card,” he said glancing over at me. “Would you like to read it?”

  “Yes please,” I said as I shoved myself up further in the bed. He turned and took a couple of steps towards me. I took the card from him when he reached out. As I did, my eyes met his briefly before he quickly looked away and walked back towards the door.

  I turned over the card and silently read it.

  Keeping you in our prayers. The Jones Family.

  “Do you know who the Jones family is?” I asked the police officer, stopping him at the door. He slowly turned and looked at me, before he took a step closer to the bed. “The card says from the Jones family.”

  “Hannah Jones was the girl after you,” he said as he took the card from my hand. “She was found not that far from where you were found.”

  I was completely taken back by his directness. He seemed disconnected from what he was saying. I watched him as he stared at the card and something about the expression on his face troubled me.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. He looked up and stared at me for a moment without saying a word, lost in his thoughts.

  “I’m sorry,” he said with a smile, as he realised, he was just staring at me and handed me back the card. “It’s just hard to understand what these girls…what you went through. This guy is still out there and that…that is scary.”

  “You have no idea,” I sighed, giving him a tight smile.

  “So, you have no memory at all?” He asked me, looking at me directly.

  “No,” I replied wishing I could give him a different answer. I knew if I remembered, maybe they could catch this guy, but I don’t. “I wish I did. I really do, but there is nothing there, just…blank.”

  “I am not sure I would want to remember that,” he said, his eyes still not leaving mine.

  “I don’t want to remember for me,” I replied honestly as I looked down at the card in my hand. “I want to remember for them. I need to remember for those other girls. If I do, maybe this guy can be stopped. I just wish I could remember something, no matter how small.”

  “I guess I can understand that,” he said stepping closer to the bed. “I was wondering…”

  Before he could finish what, he was saying, the door opened, and Oliver walked into the room. He froze the minute he saw the policeman standing there.

  “Dean,” he said, pinning the officer with a glare. “What are you doing in here?”

  “There was a delivery for Scarlet,” the officer replied. “I just brought them in.”

  “A delivery? From who?” Oliver demanded. I could see from his whole demeanour he was not happy. Something had happened, I just didn’t know what it was yet.

  “They were just flowers,” the officer explained. “I checked them before I brought them in.”

  “They are from one of the girl’s family,” I said, feeling I needed to say something to calm Oliver. He turned and looked at me for the first time since he walked into the room and his expression softened. “They wanted to tell me they were praying for me.”

  He walked to the bed and with a smile, he took the card from me and read it.

  “Are you okay?” He asked as he looked up from the card at me.

  “Yes,” I nodded and returned his smile. He sat down on the edge of my bed and took my hand.

  “Thank you for looking after her, Dean,” he said without taking his eyes off me.

  “It was my pleasure,” the other officer said, and he walked back towards the door. “The day is almost over now; my replacement will be here soon.”

  His words made my heart almost stop. I don’t know why but they sounded familiar to me. Blackness filled my mind as the words spun around in my head, over and over again.

  “
Well, thanks for today,” Oliver said as he reached up and softly touched my face, completely unaware I was a little upset.

  “Anytime,” he said as he headed out the door.

  “You’re here early,” I said, trying my hardest to sound as normal as I possibly could. I leaned into his touch and instantly I felt safer.

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he replied but the look on his face told me he was not telling me everything. “How did the tests go?”

  “Okay,” I shrugged, not really wanting to talk about what the doctor had said. I was so sick of people looking at me with pity, especially Oliver. I didn’t want him to look at me like I was broken anymore. I decided I would take my medication and I will not have any seizures and he will never need to know. No one would have to know “He said I can go home the day after tomorrow.”

  A big smile spread across Oliver’s face and I knew this was the news he had been dying to hear.

  “This is the best news I have heard all day,” Oliver said and hugged me tightly. He held me close to him, longer than he should have and I could hear him sigh deeply in my ear.

  I sat back and looked into his face, as I tried to work out what was going through his mind.

  “Something is wrong,” I said looking into his eyes. He dropped his eyes to my hands clasped together on my lap. Reaching out, he took hold of them before he looked back into my eyes.

  “I have something I need you to look at,” he said, and I could see the sadness in his eyes. He reached into his pocket and he pulled out his wallet.

  Opening it slowly, he pulled a photo from the back of the wallet. He stared down at the photograph briefly before he slowly handed it to me.

  I took it from his hands but kept my eyes on Oliver for a few moments before I let my eyes fall down to the photograph.

  I instantly recognised Oliver in the photo, next to him was a pretty blonde girl. He had an arm draped around her shoulder and she was smiling up at him. Next to them was another couple. A fair-haired man with piercing blue eyes, beside him, a raven-haired girl with dark, chocolate eyes.

  “Other than me,” he croaked, then coughed to clear his throat. “Do you recognise anyone from that photograph?”

  “No, should I?” I asked looking from the photograph to Oliver.

  “Please take a closer look,” he said getting up and walking to the window.

  I studied the photo again, but other than Oliver, no one was familiar to me.

  “I’m sorry, Oliver,” I said looking back up at him. “I don’t recognise any of them.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he replied, as he glanced over his shoulder. “It was a long shot.”

  I looked down at the photograph once again. My eyes fell to the pretty blonde next to Oliver. I looked at her face, how she looked at him and it was clear, she loved him.

  I needed to know who she was.

  “Oliver,” I said, unsure if I was crossing a line. “Who is the girl you have your arm around?”

  He turned back to the window and just stared out into the night. My heart raced. Did I really want to know the answer?

  Chapter 12

  Oliver

  I stared out the window, trying to find the right words to tell Scarlet about Clea. I knew it was a conversation I would need to have; I just wasn’t ready for it to be so soon.

  “Oliver,” Scarlet said, and I could hear the nerves in her voice. “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.”

  “No,” I said as I turned to face her. “It’s okay. It’s time for me to tell you everything. I don’t want any secrets between us.”

  “Okay,” she said swallowing hard. She had a worried expression on her face, and I knew that what I was about to tell her could throw her off balance. I hoped she would understand, but I was afraid she would tell me to get out.

  “I have wanted to tell you this for a while now,” I began nervously as I sat on the edge of the bed. “I just didn’t know how.”

  “It’s okay,” she said as she reached out and took my hand. “You can tell me anything, Oliver.”

  “Scarlet, before I do,” I said looking her straight in the eye. “I want you to know, how I feel about you has nothing got to do with what has happened in the past.”

  “Okay,” she smiled, but I could see the worry in her eyes.

  “Okay,” I nodded, taking a deep breath. “The girl in the photo…”

  I hesitated as I took the photo from her hand and looked at it closely. Even three years later, I found it hard to speak about that night and what happened.

  “Her name is Clea,” I said finally. “She was my fiancée.”

  I looked at Scarlet, trying to read her face, to try figure out what she was thinking, but it was completely blank. I carried on.

  “We were supposed to be getting married,” I said feeling my heart break yet again. It was rare that I spoke about Clea, but when I did, all the heartache and sadness that I tried so hard to keep at bay, filled my heart and consumed me with pure, raw grief. I pushed my feelings back down inside and continued. “About six weeks before our wedding, I was supposed to meet her for dinner. I was just heading out the door, when I was called in for an emergency at work. A break in the case we had been working on for four months came in and I was so buzzed about it, I completely forgot about our dinner plans.”

  I stopped and closed my eyes as images of that night filled my mind.

  “We were heading back to the station,” I said, and my voice croaked giving away my grief. I quickly coughed to clear it before I continued. “I was on top of the world. We had caught the guy we had been chasing for what seemed like forever. Then the call came in, there had been a shooting at a local grocery store. It was a store near where Clea and I lived. My partner Seth and I took the call. When we got there, the first thing I remembered was this old woman sitting on the floor in front of the counter, she was screaming hysterically. I went to calm her down, as Seth walked further into the store.”

  I could feel the tears burn my eyes, but I quickly brushed them back. I pinched my eyes shut tighter.

  “Oliver,” Scarlet said, as she softly squeezed my hand. “You don’t have to tell me anymore.”

  “No,” I replied, opening my eyes, looking directly into hers. “I need to.”

  She gave me a warm smile and I think in that moment I fell in love with her just that little bit more.

  “I was trying my best to calm the woman down,” I continued. “That’s when Seth came back to the front of the store. He looked like he had seen a ghost. I just knew. Something in my gut told me. I went to push past him, but he tried to hold me back. I broke free and ran to the back of the store. That’s when I saw Clea. She was just lying there in the centre of the floor, completely immersed in a pool of her own blood.”

  “Oh Oliver,” Scarlet said, as tears pooled in her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but they trickled down her cheek. She quickly brushed them away like she was refusing to let them win.

  “S…she,” I coughed, clearing my throat once again. “She was shot in the head, at point blank range. M.E said she was dead before she hit the ground. She wouldn’t have suffered, but that was little comfort to me.”

  “I am so sorry,” Scarlet said reaching out and wrapping her arms around my shoulders and hugging me tightly. “I really am, Oliver.”

  “Scarlet, the night I found you,” I said as I pulled back and held her at arm’s length. “All I could think about was Clea. When I realised you were still alive, I couldn’t believe it. Then when we got to the hospital, I couldn’t leave you. If I am honest, in the beginning, I think I stayed mostly because of Clea, but as time passed, that changed. It was about you. I was so amazed by your strength and your fight.”

  She smiled but she didn’t speak, and I knew she was not really sure how she should react.

  “Scarlet,” I said reaching over and taking her by the hand. “If you asked me if I still love Clea, my answer is yes. I will always
love Clea. But I am in love with you and it has nothing to do with Clea. Please believe that.”

  “Oliver,” she said, and I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. She looked hurt and part of me was sorry I said anything.

  “God, I am saying this all wrong,” I said, knowing needed to explain myself better. “Look, I thought getting over Clea was the hardest thing I would ever have to do, but I know I would never survive losing you. I have never felt for anyone, the way I feel about you.”

  “But you don’t know me, Oliver,” she replied suddenly unable to look me in the eye and I felt like a complete asshole because I knew I hurt her. “Hell, I don’t know me. I want to tell you what you want to hear, but right now… right now I just don’t know how I feel. I need some time to think.”

  “Scarlet…” I pleaded but she leaned forward and kissed me.

  “Please,” she whispered against my lips. “I need you to go.”

  “Okay,” I sighed, feeling a little like I had been kicked in the guts. I stood up from the bed and walked to the door. I stopped before I opened it and turned back to Scarlet.

  “That’s the thing,” I said giving her a sad smile. “I don’t care who or what you were before. I love who you are now. I always will.”

  Before she could reply, I opened the door and left her alone, closing the door behind me.

  I stood outside her room for a moment, debating whether leaving right then was the best thing to do. I wanted to march back in there and make her see sense, but I knew I needed to give her the time and space she asked for.

  Besides, I needed to go talk to my dad about Seth. If anyone would know what way I should handle it, it was him.

  Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into my parent’s driveway. I always smiled as I walked to their door. Every wonderful childhood memory I had, took place inside this house. I always felt so content when I walked up the short pathway to the steps, then up onto the porch. I loved coming home.

  “Mom, Dad,” I called out as I walked through the front door.

  “Hey Olly,” Caitlin said as she came bounding down the stairs.

 

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