“I get you, brother, but that’s the way of life.” Vincent settled back. “Nothing is promised. Shaunette and I are always coming up with different visions for our future. All it takes is one hit the wrong way and I’m done. Toast. I have to consider alternate options. I’ve done that ever since I busted my leg in high school.”
“You’re still doing what you love.” Colton hated how pathetic he sounded, especially in front of Vince.
“Brother, hear me out. What I’m saying is I like playing football. A lot. But I love my wife and my daughter. As great as it is to live my dream on the field, it’s the dream I’m living at home, with my family, that means the most.” Vince pointed at the screen. “You convinced me in high school not to give up, even when it hurt, and I’m telling you to do the same. Just because you’re not wearing a uniform anymore doesn’t mean you don’t have anything to offer.”
Vince’s words echoed Pecca’s, making Colton’s chest hurt. He checked the clock. It was time to go.
“I appreciate that, Vince. I’ll let you know what I do.”
“Hang in there, Colt. You’ve got this.”
Ending the call, Colton felt drained. Maybe Vince should consider being a therapist, like Chaplain Kelly. After one short video chat with his friend, Colton could see the pathetic reasoning behind his tantrum last night. Maybe his appointment with Chaplain Kelly would go better.
“You had a bad night.”
Bad night. Next to the night following his diagnosis and departure from the Army, last night was the worst one of Colton’s life. Pecca’s heartbroken expression had haunted his dreams. He did that to her. He hurt Pecca.
“Pecca told me you canceled your sessions with her today.” Chaplain Kelly leaned back in his chair. “Why?”
“I’m only here for another week and a half. I can go to a gym anywhere, but I want to make sure I have a good grasp on the cognitive brain therapy before I leave.” And if hearing Pecca’s name felt like a stab in his heart, seeing her would only cause him to bleed out. Colton tapped an electrode. “Can we start?”
“Sure, but I want to talk about what happened last night.”
“I already told you.”
“Yes.” Chaplain Kelly pushed his glasses up his nose. “You gave me a report. Concise. Organized. Impassive. Exactly what I would expect from an intelligence officer.”
“What else do you want?”
“To know how you’re feeling. You said you had another episode. You hadn’t had one since our first meeting. Do you realize that was five weeks ago?”
Colton shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
“You should.” Chaplain Kelly smiled. “You’ve made progress.”
Progress? Colton’s gaze drifted to the window as he thought about how his body had failed him again. He could barely see the edge of the parking lot and the squad car parked there. He was grateful Charlie had listened and gotten Pecca more protection, but it was a painful reminder of his own shortcomings.
“Why don’t we talk about your homework? You told me about your idea for your grandparents’ ranch. What steps have you taken to make that happen?”
Colton scoffed, turning away from the window. He thought about his earlier conversation with Vince. “It’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?” Chaplain Kelly frowned. “It’s a great idea.”
“It’s too big of a project. And I’m not ready for it.”
“May I speak to you a moment as a chaplain rather than your therapist?” He smiled. “I have a bit more experience on that side.”
“If I say yes, can we start the CBT?”
Chaplain Kelly’s smile grew bigger. “Yes.”
“Then fire away, sir.”
“I want you to consider for a moment why God may have brought you to this point in your life.”
Colton rolled his lip between his teeth. “Maybe I’m being punished for something?”
“Do you believe that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Can’t think of why else this is happening to me.”
“Do you believe God has a plan for your life?”
“My parents seem to think he does, but I’m struggling to understand why God would allow this to happen.”
“That idea about the ranch. Do you think you would’ve thought about that if you hadn’t come here?”
Colton’s fingers bounced with the tremor. All he’d planned to do on the ranch was retire after a long career in the Army. “No.”
“And what about Maceo? You started a flag football team just to give him a chance to play a sport you both love. Did you ever think you’d get the privilege to coach and mentor a team of kids and inspire them to look beyond physical limitations?”
“You make me sound much better than I am.”
“What I’m trying to do is make you look past your own narrow vision, Colton.” Chaplain Kelly shifted in his chair. “You can’t see the value of what you’re currently bringing to the lives around you. Even with your movement disorder. You look at yourself as less than. Is that the message you want your life to reflect? Those kids on the field don’t see Maceo’s prosthetic because he stopped seeing it. Those guys in D-Wing have lived rich, full lives, not because they haven’t seen hardships but because they have and are choosing to focus on what is better. When are you going to make that decision, Colton?”
“What was wrong with the life I had hoped for?” Colton looked at his arm. “Did I mess up and choose the wrong path or something and now God is using this to get me back on track?”
“I think God is using this to get you to trust him completely.” Chaplain Kelly’s voice was gentle. “Give your plans over to the Lord and trust him. Allow yourself to believe that even though this isn’t how you planned your life, it doesn’t mean it’s not exactly where you need to be.”
Taking the stairs two at a time, Colton feared running into Pecca. He wasn’t sure what he would say to her if he saw her and was even more convinced that maybe Chaplain Kelly was right.
Chaplain Kelly’s words had challenged Colton throughout the remainder of his session. It was like Pecca, Vincent, and the chaplain had all conspired to point out the same exact thing. His mother would call him stubborn and remind him that a wise word spoken once is easily ignored, but when it’s spoken again the listener should pay attention. Reflecting back on the last year, Colton realized he had used his movement disorder as an excuse to give up. It was a foolish, prideful, stupid response, and he was ashamed of himself.
He scanned the hallway and lounge on the second floor. It was quiet. Good. Running into Gunny, Sarge, or anyone on D-Wing would be just as bad as running into Pecca. Worse. They would call him out on his cowardice. Remind him that women like Pecca didn’t come around often, and he was making a mistake.
Brrring.
Colton stepped into his room and tugged his cell phone out of his pocket, closing the door behind him. Kekoa’s mug popped up on the screen.
“Brah, we’ve got a problem. I don’t know who that wahine is, but she’s cursed. I was able to use a program to piece together enough of her face to run through a couple of facial recognition programs and sent you a copy. If she had a criminal record, it’d pop pretty quickly, but brother, this woman is hot, and I ain’t talking about her good looks. My computer is fried.”
Kekoa was amped up, his words running together—and there wasn’t a lot that got the Hawaiian on edge. Colton put his phone on speaker and checked the message. The pixelated image was grainy at best, but Kekoa did a good job piecing the photos together. “Was it a virus?”
“Fried, Colton. Like Texas State Fair fried.” Kekoa blew out a breath. “Something or someone turned my five-thousand-dollar computer into a paperweight.”
Colton’s mood grew darker. “You didn’t get anything on her before then?”
“Brah, this wahine doesn’t want to be found. She faked her way into a federal prison, knew how to avoid the cameras, and somehow discovered I was looking into
her.” He whistled. “I have a feeling we’ve stepped into a hornet’s nest and met the queen.”
What had he gotten his friend into? Who was this Marissa Dominguez? Something wasn’t sitting right in Colton’s gut. He needed to talk to Charlie. Maybe Agent Frost would have better luck.
Movement from the corner of Colton’s eye spun him around. The shades in his room were still drawn, but there was no mistaking the silhouette of a person standing in the corner. Colton’s shoulders tensed, and he took a step backward toward his door.
“Kekoa—”
The shadow moved and Colton’s muscles strained, readying for a fight, but his arm jerked and he was right back to that night. The shadow continued stretching toward his window, and a second later the blinds twisted open a little, letting in some light.
Colton squinted and then his eyes widened. Marissa Dominguez. Standing right in front of him. What is going on?
“Brah, you okay?”
“Best to tell him all is well, Cap,” she whispered, shifting so she was leaning against the desk.
He eyed her. Dark jeans hugged curves that led to a black sweater just bulky enough so that most wouldn’t notice the bulge at her hip. Wait—she called him Cap. Her eyebrows lifted as though she were waiting for him to figure it out.
“I-I gotta go. I have an appointment with a queen.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
THE DAY COULD NOT FEEL ANY LONGER. Pecca turned her wrist and checked the time—10:25 a.m. She sighed. Lane had woken her this morning and asked if she wanted to call in sick for the day, but Pecca couldn’t do that to her patients. And part of her had hoped maybe Lane would be right.
Colton would get up this morning realizing, like she had, that their emotions were in overdrive last night and the situation had made them act irrationally. Imagining Colton walking into the gym and sweeping her into his arms, covering her face with a hundred kisses and apologizing for what a fool he’d been, was what drove her to get to work.
Finding out he had canceled all his appointments with her for the day had crushed her. Even Gunny had taken notice and asked her who he had to kill for stealing the smile off her face. Pecca had done her best to assure him she was just having an off day. She knew if D-Wing found out about last night, even though they’d mean no harm, they’d make Colton’s life uncomfortable, and she didn’t want to be the cause of that.
Would Colton’s withdrawal from her affect his relationship with Maceo? Just the idea that it would made her hurt. Would Colton stop helping Maceo? Stop coaching the Warriors? She rounded the corner toward the staff kitchen, desperate for a third cup of coffee if she had any hope of surviving the day. Shirley, with a motherly smile on her face, stepped out. She lifted up a cup of coffee.
“How’d you know I needed one?”
“It’s a dark roast mocha,” Shirley said. “I only bring it out when a heart needs to be mended.”
Pecca breathed in the heavenly aroma, not caring to know how Shirley knew about her fractured heart. She was about to reach for the cup when her watch pulsed in rhythm with the vibration inside her pocket. She pulled out her cell phone and answered.
“Hello?”
“Is this Ms. Gallegos?” a woman’s voice asked.
“Yes, it is.” Great, a marketing call. She should’ve checked the number before she answered.
“Good morning, ma’am. This is the attendance office at Walton Elementary, and we were calling to verify Maceo’s absence today.”
Pecca’s heart lurched. “His what?”
“His absence. He’s not here to—”
“What do you mean he’s not there? I dropped him off this morning.”
“I’m sorry, but his teacher marked him absent from morning class, and he wasn’t marked present during P.E. I can—”
“I’m on my way.”
Pecca’s pulse jackhammered in her ears, drowning out the woman’s voice. She rushed past Shirley and out the door, her feet barely touching the steps leading down to the lawn. Her thoughts tumbled through their morning. Lane woke her up. Maceo and Noah ate cereal. She forced him to also eat a banana. And yes, she drove him to school and dropped him off. She even waved to Deputy Wilson, who’d been assigned to watch the school. This had to be a mistake.
The trail was the fastest way to get to the school, so she took it, but the events from last night came spiraling back into her mind. When she passed the spot where she and Colton were attacked, a strangled cry caught in her throat and propelled her forward. Sheriff Huggins and Charlie were still searching for the shooter. Would he go after Maceo? Why? Why was this happening?
Every single headline about a child abduction flashed through her mind, and she urged her legs to move faster. Please, God, let him be there and it be a mistake. Yes. It was a mistake. Maceo must’ve been in the bathroom when attendance was taken or moved seats or . . .
The school came into view, and Pecca sprinted through the playground, skidding to a halt near one of the side doors. She reached for the handle and tugged, but it didn’t budge. A curse rolled through her mind. The school kept all the doors locked but the main one. That should’ve reassured her, but it only aggravated her.
She ran to the front of the school and entered the building, heading to the office. Her frenzied and sudden appearance shocked the secretary and another woman standing near her. They stared at her, mouths open.
“Where’s Maceo? I dropped him off this morning.” Pecca huffed. “They called me. I dropped him off.”
The secretary stood, concern etched into her face. The principal, Ms. Webb, came out of her office as well. “Ms. Gallegos, what’s wrong?”
Pecca held up her cell phone, her chest heaving. “The attendance office called me and said Maceo was marked absent”—tears sprang to her eyes and her voice shook—“but I dropped him off.”
Ms. Webb came around the counter and put a consoling hand on Pecca’s arm. She turned to the secretary. “Call Ms. Johnson and see if Maceo’s in class.”
The woman moved like molasses, and Pecca’s fears mounted. Unwilling to wait, she pivoted and raced out of the office and down the hall toward Maceo’s classroom.
“Ms. Gallegos!”
Pecca ignored Ms. Webb’s voice and ran down the main hall. A kid using the water fountain looked up and stared after her as she made her way to the second-grade hallway. Turning the corner, she halted abruptly when she saw Deputy Wilson walking toward her. Heart plunging, it took all her strength to remain upright.
“Ms. Gallegos.”
“Wha—” Her voice cracked as she stared up into his dark brown eyes. “Where’s Maceo?”
“Mom?”
Pecca swung around and saw Maceo standing outside the boys’ bathroom, his forehead squished in confusion. She dashed toward him, dropped to her knees, and squeezed him to her chest. “Are you okay? I’m so glad you’re here.” She pushed him back and looked him over before meeting his eyes. “Where were you?”
“In the bathroom.”
His sober response burst the balloon of emotion filling her chest, and Pecca sank to her heels. “The whole morning?”
Deputy Wilson walked over. “Ms. Gallegos, is everything okay?”
Maceo’s eyes flashed with fear. “Ms. Johnson said I could.” He looked down and back up, his eyes growing wide. “I left the hall pass in the bathroom.” Freeing himself, Maceo went back into the boys’ room and returned with an empty milk carton with Ms. Johnson’s name and the room number written on it in red marker. “See?”
Ms. Webb jogged over to join them, along with Maceo’s teacher. The commotion had also drawn the attention of several more teachers, who were opening their doors to peek out. “Ms. Gallegos, I stopped by the attendance office. Maceo wasn’t marked absent.”
“What?” Ms. Johnson frowned, her eyes passing between everyone. “Of course not. Maceo’s been here all morning.”
Pecca stood. “Then why would someone from the school call to tell me he wasn’t here?”
&nbs
p; “I don’t know,” Ms. Webb said. “It must’ve been a mistake.”
A mistake. Pecca inhaled sharply. She glanced around at everyone until she found Maceo. It was a mistake. He was here. Safe.
“I’ve been here the whole time, ma’am.” Deputy Wilson towered over them—his presence formidable but also comforting. “Your boy is safe.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry I panicked. It’s just—”
“Don’t apologize, dear.” Ms. Webb consoled her with a pat on the arm. “This was a terrible mistake, and I’m going to make sure I find out what happened.”
“Can I go back to class now, Mom?”
Maceo’s eyes darted to where the door of his classroom stood ajar, his classmates standing there, watching.
“Oh, yes, of course.” She started to reach for him, but he shot her a “please don’t embarrass me” look, and against her instinct, Pecca refrained from smothering him in hugs and kisses. It was probably for the best since she wasn’t sure once she got her arms around him if she’d be able to let go. “I’ll be here to pick you up after school.”
Pecca peered up at Deputy Wilson, who read the worry on her face and gave her a reassuring nod, before she allowed Ms. Webb to walk her back to the front of the school. The frantic principal assured her the matter would be looked into and corrected. Pecca thanked her and did her best to pretend that the last twenty minutes hadn’t stolen several years off her life.
When she stepped outside the school, Pecca barely made it to the parking lot before she completely lost it. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she bent over and released the sob that had been building since she got the call that Maceo was gone. Her shoulders shook like her body was trying to expel the dread of what she had imagined had happened to Maceo.
“Pecca?” She lifted her head and, through her tears, saw David standing there. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head. “No.”
David put a hand on her back. “What happened?”
It must’ve been the emotional turmoil, because Pecca couldn’t resist turning into David’s chest, where she buried her head against his shoulder and cried again. He rubbed her back for a few seconds until Pecca finally got control over herself.
Silent Shadows Page 23
