Love Notes

by Savannah Kade

  “Please don’t.” JD shook him off, thankfully diverting his attention for a moment. “I don’t doubt that if you see him you’ll crush every bone in my hand. I need that hand. Please.”

  JD held out two fingers together, looking a little sheepish. “It a labor trick. You can squeeze two fingers as hard as you want and it won’t damage them.”

  He was skeptical. “’Cause Kelsey was in danger of breaking the bones in your hand?”

  “Yeah. Clearly you’ve never been around a woman in labor.”

  He was grateful for the small distraction, but out of the corner of his eye, TJ saw the men filing in. Five of them, and automatically he grabbed at the fingers, his fist squeezing as hard as it could. “That’s him.”

  It took all the control he could find to hold back and not go through the window and strangle the bastard. Both JD and the cop saw that, placing steadying hands on his shoulders.

  She spoke first, into her radio. “Have them turn to face us.”

  The men did, and TJ was certain that the bastard could see through the mirrored surface to TJ’s own fury. The man showed no remorse.

  He wished they’d take the man away, get him out of sight, but the cop made him speak the man’s number in the line-up and had the ass pulled closer to the mirror for a good look.

  TJ hadn’t needed it.

  The man was bruised, his arm casted, though he didn’t look nearly as battered as Norah. The officer nodded. Speaking into her radio again she had the officers take the men out. TJ put his hands on his knees and tried to breathe, but that only hurt the ribs that bastard had cracked.

  The voice was soft and feminine and soothing. “Everyone pulled him out of that line up. All the same guy. You make four. He’s going away for a long time. We have enough evidence that he’ll likely confess. Much of that due to you bringing in the knife. Just so you know, the other prisoners don’t take kindly to rapists. He won’t have an easy time in jail.”

  TJ nodded. It was his only consolation for not getting to torment the man himself.

  JD asked how he’d gotten brought in.

  “A doctor called his local station when the man showed up in his office with the break to his arm and a mismatched explanation. He was almost five hours away.”

  TJ stood. “Can I get the name of the doctor? I’d like to thank him.”

  The officer shook her head. “But if you want to write a letter or a note, I’ll make sure he gets it.”

  TJ nodded.

  The officer let them out of the room and TJ began to breathe easier. Walking down the hallway he started to feel lighter, but a voice stopped him. “Which one of you is Thomas Hewlitt?”

  “I am.” TJ started, no one called him ‘Thomas,’ for a moment he wondered if it was a fan, and knew he just couldn’t deal with that now, here. It couldn’t be a fan. His brain was fried, maybe it was a cop, they would likely refer to him as Thomas.

  It was neither. A middle-aged woman who looked haggard and like she’d been crying came down the hallway, flagging him. “I peeked and read your name off the roster. You and your girlfriend brought that bastard down. I just wanted to say thank you.”

  “Oh.” That startled him. “I didn’t really do—”

  “He attacked my daughter at college in February. I’m hoping she’ll finally get some sleep tonight.” With that the woman offered a small smile and went out the building ahead of them.

  TJ sighed. “I have another errand.”

  JD just nodded.

  Twenty minutes later they were back at the station, talking to the same female officer. He had borrowed paper and envelopes and written two notes. “This one is for the doctor who called that bastard in.” He handed over the first envelope. “And this one is for the woman who flagged me down in the hall. She said that he had attacked her daughter in February.”

  “I know who you’re talking about.” The officer took both envelopes.

  “Please, make sure they get them.”

  This time when they left, JD teased him. “I saw how much money was on those bank drafts. I’m impressed.”

  TJ just shook his head. “It needed to be done. That doctor needs to be thanked, and that woman’s daughter probably needs counseling. I told them to donate it if they don’t want it.”

  JD didn’t say anything, just started the car and asked where to?

  “I’m headed back to Norah’s. You can take me back to my car.” He was quiet for a minute before he spoke again. “I finally understand why you don’t party anymore, don’t drink like you used to. I thought you’d just turned stuffy when Andie and then Kelsey came along. But I realize now that you just need to be ready if they need you.” He sighed. “I didn’t even take my pain medication this morning, just in case something irrational happened.”

  “Yeah, that’s what happens. Are you turning stuffy now, too?”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Looks that way.”

  “It’s good to see.”

  He hugged his brother and thanked him again before getting into his own bloody car. The blood wasn’t comforting now, and he figured he’d get it washed out professionally or get a new car. He couldn’t put Norah back in here.

  He also counted himself damned lucky that the police had found the bastard so fast. He drove back to the farmhouse feeling lighter. Glad they’d found the man, and glad he could tell Norah the good news, and glad he’d been able to maybe help one of the other victims and thank the doctor.

  His mouth quirked, the side that didn’t hurt. He was becoming a better man. Who’d have thought? He hadn’t seen this coming like he hadn’t seen the semi. But he liked himself a lot better these days.

  Pulling up in front of the garage, he pushed the shift into park and forced his legs to climb the steps. They were worse than they’d been when he left. Of course, the adrenaline had left him and now he was feeling the effects.

  He pushed open the front door, Norah turning to look up at him from her spot on the couch. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, and they looked even bluer from the black that shaded both undersides and the right half of her face. She stood up. “Are you done?”

  Shedding his jacket and carefully hanging it on the stand behind the door, he came up to Norah and folded her into his arms. It hurt his arms and his ribs to do it, but it was worth it. “I went to the police station to ID someone they brought in. It was him. They got him.”

  “What?”

  He got to smile at her. “He’s in custody.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to have to come back and tell you that it wasn’t him.” He rolled his face so his cheek nestled on top of her hair, he inhaled her sweet smell, wanting her to be his. “If you need to see him, they’ll drag him back out for you.”

  She pulled back at that one, frowning, even though it must have hurt to do so. “I don’t know that I need to. Thank you.”

  “Norah.” He reached out as she walked away. “Are you mad at me? I just . . .” wanted to protect you. But those words didn’t come out.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I need a drink. The drugs are making me thirsty. Do you want something?”

  “Norah.”

  This time she turned, sensing he had something more to say.

  “Baby, you’re a hero. He raped at least six women since January. You brought him down. I’m so proud of you.”

  Her head tilted. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

  He nodded. He did. “A doctor turned him in. He came in with injuries and a story that didn’t match, so the doctor just called the cops. I sent him a thank you. I signed both our names to it. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not. Thank you.”

  TJ didn’t add that the ‘thank you’ he’d sent had been in the tune of thousands of dollars. He didn’t want her thinking he believed he could throw money at things. And he changed the subject. “Did your Dad make that chicken soup?”

  She smiled, not her mouth, that
would hurt too much. But her eyes. “We saved you some.”

  Chapter 50

  Norah slept when he was here. She would feel him curl up behind her, around her. In the same position every time they went to bed, TJ was an amulet against the dreams. He’d canceled Wilder’s show on Wednesday night, although Norah knew it wasn’t for her, he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t really sing or perform with those ribs. But he sang to her just fine. Every night. Sweet love songs.

  Still, he didn’t touch her in any way that made her believe he wanted to be anything other than nice. He was fiercely protective, and that, of course, made her fall just a little further in love. And that made her just a little more scared.

  The last man she’d loved had been snatched away from her. There one moment, talking on his cell phone, telling her they were on their way. Then, when they should have arrived, the police had, telling her it was all over.

  First TJ’s accident and now this—she didn’t need any reminders that life changed when it felt like it. So she’d sent TJ home for a while yesterday. Her father had been at work, and she’d sat on the couch watching a movie she found. And trying to breathe normally.

  Norah had to keep telling herself that she was in her own home. And that man was in jail.

  It didn’t change the panic. Or the visions that came when she closed her eyes and didn’t feel TJ right next to her.

  So she sent him home again this evening.

  He’d protested, sweet thing that he was. “We both sleep better this way.”

  But Norah stood her ground. “I know I do. That’s why you have to go home.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  Her father had removed himself from the room, but Norah knew she did make sense, and she’d make it to TJ however long it took. “I have to be able to sleep on my own, and the longer you’re here the harder that will be to learn.”

  “You’re going to be okay tonight?”

  “No. I’m going to be awful, but I have to learn.”

  He protested again, striking at the heart of her argument. “Why do you have to learn to sleep alone?”

  Her heart skipped a beat, thinking something more might be coming. But it wasn’t. It made sense; she’d seen her reflection in the mirror. No man was going to hit on that. “You aren’t going to stay here every night. You’re performing in New York in two weeks. After that you’re going on tour. What are you going to do? Cancel the whole thing?”

  He’d opened his mouth, but this time nothing came out.

  It was Norah who filled the silence. “Go home, TJ.”

  So he had.

  As she’d suspected, she was wide awake at midnight and covered in sweat. The thought of a shower was both comforting and terrifying, so she stayed in bed, figuring it was time for professional help.

  Again she dozed off and again she jerked awake. But the clock read 1:06. She had actually slept.

  Norah lay awake until one thirty with the light on and was just getting ready to turn it off and try again when she heard the tapping.

  Startled, she lay stiff as a board, regulating her breathing, wishing she’d left the light off. Then laughing to herself as she realized what it was.

  Rocks. Tiny pebbles, probably from her Dad’s rose beds, against the window. There was only one person she could think of who would do that.

  Getting out of bed, Norah crossed the room and pulled back the curtain just enough to see the front yard. Sure enough, TJ was standing there with a handful of rocks just below her window. She sighed. It was so close to romantic that she had to shove the window up and look down at him as the cold night air flowed in.

  His voice was calm and low. “Your light was on, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  She shook her head. “What are you doing here, TJ?”

  “I had to see if you were okay.” He looked chagrinned and ducked his head. “I got worried. I just needed to see you. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  She watched as he turned to go, and pulled the window shut. Her eyes were closing as she turned to go back to bed, and saw the man silhouetted in the doorway.

  With a gasp, Norah started. “Dad! You scared the crap out of me!”

  “Sorry, honey.” He made a face and she knew it was the last thing he’d meant to do.

  “What are you doing up?”

  “Checking on you.” His finger pointed to the window. “Apparently, I’m not the only one.”

  She couldn’t hide the smile that broke loose.

  Her Dad always thought if the conversation turned that way, it was a good time for a talk. So at one-forty in the morning he thought nothing of perching on the side of her bed. After all they were awake, right?

  “Is he what you want?”

  She nodded.

  “Looks like maybe that goes both ways.”

  Norah pointed her finger around her face. “I don’t think he’ll propose anything anytime soon. Plus, he’ll be traveling. He can get anyone he wants.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’ll partake.” Her father always played devil’s advocate. Sometimes it was helpful. Sometimes, like now, she just wanted to curl up with her misbeliefs and go to sleep.

  “Daddy, he has no reason not to. Why should I expect him to act according to my wishes?”

  “Good point. It’s probably hard for him to when he doesn’t even know what they are.”

  “Daddy, I get it. Can I go to sleep now?”

  “Good night, honey.”

  Norah kissed him and sent him to turn off the light after she had tucked herself in. She felt very young asking him to leave the door cracked. Then she curled up with her misbeliefs, and thought happy thoughts.

  Chapter 51

  TJ yawned. He hadn’t slept well since Norah had kicked him out. Luckily, she wasn’t being rude or refusing to speak to him. She just decided she needed to learn to sleep on her own. Probably she hadn’t realized that she was forcing him to sleep on his own, too. Or that it would be just as hard for him to sleep without her. Harder, from the looks of it.

  She, at least, seemed to be getting some rest.

  He wound up playing the tongue-tied version of Romeo, throwing rocks at her window, and then apologizing for waking her.

  The nightmares he had were hard to go back to sleep after. He only stopped going to her house because he didn’t want to wake her when she was finally finding sleep. Still, he wanted to be certain the horrors were products of the back of his brain and not reality. Because they sure felt real when he woke up each time.

  In one dream. it had been Norah in the convertible with him when the semi hit. This time, when the doctors told him his legs didn’t work, they also told him that Norah died. That had been the first night.

  The second night, he had dreamed that her attacker had escaped prison and, in revenge, had staked out her house and was casing the place. TJ had actually dressed that night and driven over, sitting vigil at the far end of the driveway, looking for any sort of movement. He’d called the police station and double checked that the man was still locked up. The panic had been that strong.

  The third night, he simply hadn’t gotten to the track in time. He arrived to find Norah in the trees, staked out and dead. When he finally got back to sleep after that one, HIV had claimed her, and he watched her die a slow horrible death. That had been on his mind all day because the bastard had submitted to a test to avoid attempted murder charges and just that afternoon the results had come up negative.

  In the worst, he sat at the top of the stairs watching while Norah was dragged away. In his wheelchair, he was unable to stand, run, or help in anyway.

  His brain came up with a new way to torment him every night. TJ didn’t need a psychologist to explain to him what it meant. He was petrified of losing Norah. Every time he actually slept he lost her, usually in a slightly different way.

  When daylight hours came, he found some way to contact her. He called. He helped her run errands, drove her to the studio to
talk to Mrs. Kenner or her dance teachers. She was arranging her own subs now and talking about the Holiday Show that her little company was going to perform. He took her out to see a movie one afternoon.

  And he spent his remaining time in the studio. The problem was no one seemed to believe TJ that his change in his music was separate from his feelings for Norah. That was probably because they were in part right. Both had come about from the same accident. But they were separate things. He wouldn’t have been able to get up on stage whether or not he’d fallen in love with her. And he would have been finding his way back whether or not he’d been able to drag her into the studio with him and ask her opinion.

  There would be no more shows before the Queen Tribute in Central Park, his cracked ribs weren’t up for it. In fact, if he followed the doctor’s warnings, they wouldn’t be doing that show either. But TJ would be damned if he would miss it. Even though he’d almost answered Norah with ‘yes’—he would cancel everything to stay beside her. She was right, no matter how much he loved her, they would both go nuts if they didn’t learn to sleep alone. It would be a necessity, given his job, even if they did get to have the rest of his time together.

  He asked Norah to come to New York with him. It fell out of his mouth one day. She’d been surprised, but maybe not as surprised as he was. He tried so hard to look like he intended to ask. Norah had declined. He wanted to tell her that just because he’d surprised himself didn’t mean that he didn’t want her to come. The other option was that she was remembering the last concert he had dragged her to. He had left her alone in the audience with no one to talk to, and then something had happened, during or afterward, that had changed her mind and her mood.

  TJ still didn’t know what that was.

  He’d spent the morning in the gym, doing what little he could, then in the studio, singing his heart out to his padded walls and feeling his ribcage protest. Then he’d come to the dance studio. It was usually deserted during the day, except for Norah. TJ had gotten an alarm system installed a week ago, remnants of the paranoia they both felt.