Sparrows & Sacrifice

by Nellie K Neves

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your ex-boyfriend, James or Amos or whoever he is. His picture came across my files three days ago. I recognized him from the picture in your room. They’ve pulled him in for questioning on a homicide.”

  His words halted my movement completely.

  “Amos wouldn’t kill anyone. He’s a conman, but he’s harmless.”

  “Some woman here in the valley. Look I don’t know all the details. I shouldn’t even say anything to you at all, but Donnelley is the DA now. His record is nearly perfect. Your friend needs your help. Will you come?”

  My mouth went dry, how could I come? Ryder needed me here with him. I couldn’t leave him during his recovery. But Amos, we had history, deep history, and if he was in trouble then I was his only hope.

  “I can’t deal with this right now, dad. I’ll call you back.”

  “Lindy—”

  I ended the call before he could finish his sentence. I rushed to room 223, but Uncle Shane caught my arm in the lobby and pulled me aside. I fought against him, but he held me steady.

  “Hey, you can’t go in yet.”

  “Why?” My feet refused to be still. I pulled hard against his grip.

  “He can only have two in at a time, and his mother is in there, plus…” He didn’t finish, and I knew it was Vanessa. She’d taken my spot.

  “I’ll drag her out by her hair. He doesn’t love her. Ryder won’t want her there.”

  “Look, I need to tell you some stuff, but it’s not going to be easy. Maybe you should sit down.”

  His tone frightened me. I stomped my heel down on his foot and in his moment of weakness I broke free. My feet carried me to 223, and I paused at the window. He was there, free of machines, the bandage still around his scalp to hide away his head injury. Nothing alerted me to the danger Shane alluded to. He’d fallen back asleep, eyes closed, and peaceful. His mother gripped one hand and Vanessa held the other. I became aware of Uncle Shane behind me.

  I mumbled an insincere, “Sorry. I had to see him.”

  My little act of treason meant Shane wouldn’t soften the blow.

  “He doesn’t remember anything.”

  I fumbled for the edge of the window to grip it for support.

  “What?” I couldn’t look away from him. I was too afraid if I did, Ryder might disappear before my eyes.

  “He can’t remember Eden’s Haven. Nothing. It’s all blank. The last he remembers is some trip he took with Vanessa over the summer. Your relapse, the ranch, the compound, your recovery, it’s all gone, Lindy.”

  The feeling drained from my face. The world spun as I clung to the windowsill.

  “How?”

  “He was without oxygen. The doctors think it caused some damage. He’s pretty weak. Then, there’s that head injury; it didn’t help.”

  I thought of the last time Raife had thrown him. Was it then? Did he have the cut before then?

  “The doctors think his brain is trying to protect him. I don’t know exactly what you both went through, but they feel like the memories are hard for him to process.”

  It wasn’t all Eden’s Haven. His time there had brought up repressed memories from his childhood abuse. It had changed him. I’d seen it firsthand.

  “It was a living nightmare.” My fingers touched the glass, cold and distant.

  “They think that the best thing for him, at least for now, is to forget about it. Let the amnesia take the memories away. They think he might snap if he remembers it all at once.”

  That meant every other memory had to go with it. The bonfire, our kiss, the pond, and the nights in Willow’s cabin protecting each other, even his love for me. It had to disappear to keep him safe.

  I had to disappear to keep him safe.

  His body twitched and his head twisted. My breath sucked in as his eyes fluttered open. Deep and dark like they always had been. Even in his drunken, drugged state, he was there, aware beneath the fog. My heart soared as he pulled his hand free of Vanessa’s and laid it over his mother’s. The words formed on his lips and my heart broke.

  “Where’s Lindy? Is she coming?”

  Isabelle only smiled and whispered, “You need to rest, dear.”

  Agitation creased his brow, written between the wrinkles the anxiety etched. My hand pressed against the glass as if I could reach through and touch his cheek one last time.

  “I can’t leave him, Shane.”

  It was asking too much. He needed me. We needed each other.

  “I thought you’d say that, and I told the doctor that as well.” Uncle Shane set a hand on my shoulder, and I turned to face him.

  “The doctor told me he had a patient in a similar situation. She was kidnapped, tortured, unspeakable acts of horrible violence. When they found her, she had repressed it all. Her brain locked everything up for her own safety.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to see him. Vanessa stood by the window, already forgotten, but Ryder had fallen asleep again.

  “She was making good progress, dealing with everything a little at a time,” Shane continued his story, “but one of the cops showed her a picture of the room she was held in, and she snapped.”

  “What do you mean, ‘she snapped’?” I asked.

  “I mean she’s in a padded room now, with fancy medications. It overloaded her brain, and she shattered. She never recovered, Lindy.” Uncle Shane was trying to be gentle, but nothing about this was gentle. He sawed me in half with every word.

  “If he sees you too soon, you’ll lose him forever.”

  I let my head fall back against the wall with a hollow thud.

  “How long do they want me to stay away?”

  “Two weeks, maybe three. It depends on how his recovery progresses.”

  “Can I call him? Talk to him somehow? He’s not going to understand why I can’t be here.”

  “The doctors are worried your voice will be dangerous. You could still trigger him.”

  I spotted a discarded notepad on a bench.

  “Can I write to him? Explain it by letter? I won’t leave him without an answer again.”

  “You can’t explain anything, Lindy. That’s the whole point. He’s too fragile.”

  The call with my father popped in my head.

  Two weeks.

  I could resolve Amos’ issues in two weeks. I was sure of it.

  “Amos is in trouble. Dad says he’s being questioned for murder and he needs my help.”

  “But you don’t want to leave Ryder,” Uncle Shane said.

  I resisted a sarcastic reply and gave him the truth instead.

  “I love him.”

  It was the first time I was willing to let someone else hear the admission.

  “It’s a sacrifice, Lindy.”

  The chief’s question billowed through my mind again. You’re telling me that you, Lindy Johnson, would sacrifice yourself, everything you want, for your partner?

  Leaving him felt ten times harder than throwing myself out to stop a madman with a gun. Leaving him felt impossible. I picked up the notepad and began writing. I’d never written anything for him, not directions, not a note, no letters or messages. There was nothing in my handwriting to trigger the memories. The paper ripped clean from the page and my soul ripped with it. I folded the paper in half and placed it in my uncle’s hands.

  “Give him this. It’ll explain enough. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” My voice cracked as I glanced toward the window. “Keep him safe for me.”

  “It’s the best thing you can do for him right now—”

  “No,” I snapped through building emotion, “you can’t tell me being away from him is best, because I’ll never believe that. But I’ll do it if this is what he needs right now.”

  I touched the glass one last time and whispered, “I love you, Ryder.”

  The first step felt like pulling an anchor from the bottom of the sea. The second faltered, but I continued.

  Sacrifice.

 
; Two weeks.

  More steps. I pressed the button on the elevator one time and dialed my father’s number. The desire to run back and risk everything yanked at me, but I thought of that haunted look I saw in Ryder’s eyes the second after he’d shot Nick. I could lessen the pain by removing myself from his life. He sacrificed for me. I sacrificed for him. Round and round. Saving each other. Ryder had stayed with me when I was at my worst, but circumstances had changed. I could actually hurt him if I stayed.

  The elevator chimed as my dad picked up.

  “Hello?”

  “I’ll be there by morning.”

  The End.

  Author’s Note

  FIRST OFF, I WANT TO THANK YOU for your continued support and trust. I know these books don’t always end easy, and the content is rarely gentle. The fact that you’ve made it through another one, and you’re willing to read this note from me instead of lighting it on fire (I know, there’s still time, right?) is such a buoy to my heart. This series has pieces of my soul woven into the pages. The deeper into the series you go, the deeper you delve into my psyche and the psyche of so many other MS Warriors I’ve talked to. In the first book, Lindy talks about her mind being full of locks and gates like the Mississippi River. These books are much the same way. The more you read, the deeper you go, and the more secrets you’ll unlock. It’s my hope in the end that it will be worth it.

  At the beginning of this book, Lindy shows her aversion to mobility aids. I wrestled with including it. When I was first diagnosed, I lived in denial for three years. Fear of ever having to show my weakness haunted me. Using aids makes it real I suppose. People would know the truth, and that terrified me. Pride is a terrible crutch. It’s more than willing to let you fall on your face. Thankfully in my journey, I have met amazing warriors who show just how strong they are in spite of the weakness MS tries to force on them. Look up #YesWeCane or #BabesWithMobilityAides to see just a few of these examples. My viewpoint has changed on the subject, hence my hesitance to include the negative side. But, if I struggled with finding this new way of thinking, I figure others have to have the same feelings. Last week I started shopping for a cane. Not because I need it all the time, but because some days I’d like to have stability instead of falling. It doesn’t mean I’m losing, or giving up. It means I’m adapting.

  Lindy is a flawed character working through the hardest year of her life. I could have made her perfect, but when I read perfect characters, I feel deficient. When I read flawed characters, I can relate. Watching them rise above their flaws helps me want to rise above my own. I hope you feel the same way. I often feel inept at everything I’m trying to convey. Thank you for your patience in my struggle.

  Love Always, Nellie

  Thank you for reading

  Sparrows & Sacrifice

  If you enjoyed the book, please consider leaving a review on either Amazon.com or goodreads.com.

  There’s a rumor floating around that an indie author gets a unicorn after fifty good reviews. I’d like to test that theory.

  Contact & Connect

  Instagram: NellieKNevesAuthor

  Facebook: Nellie K. Neves Author

  Twitter: Nellie K. Neves or @NellieKatie

  Email: nelliekneves@gmail.com

  Website: www.nellieknevesauthor.com

  Other Books by the Author

  Sentry 6 Duo

  Nightwatch

  Falcon

  Lindy Johnson Series

  Caskets & Conspiracies

  Saddles& Sabotage

  Sparrows & Sacrifice

  Fables & Felonies (Coming 2019)

  Lighthearted Romance

  Pre-Approved Identity Theft

  Set to Simmer (Coming 2019)

  Sneak Peek at Fables & Felonies

  Chapter 1

  It was impossible not to think about him.

  Every mile.

  Every moment.

  The memory of him in his hospital bed was impossible to shake. I replayed that moment in the main house over and over.

  I changed it.

  I saw Raife early and took the knife in Ryder’s place. It was me left bleeding to death in his arms. That was easier than whatever this place was.

  But it didn’t free him from the nightmares and that’s all I wanted. I wanted him to be free of the same chains that had held me for so long.

  So I kept driving.

  I slept on and off at rest stops along I-5. I gave myself just enough time to rest, and then I drove on.

  My stomach rebelled against the fast food I fed it during the wee hours of the night. I’d become too accustomed to the fresh fruit and vegetables I’d eaten at the compound. Yet another reason I frequented every rest stop I passed. But as I watched the sun rise over the Sierra Nevada mountain range somewhere outside Chowchilla, I remembered how much I’d once loved central California. It wasn’t my home anymore, but the endless fields and orchards whispered peace to my soul.

  My parents hadn’t moved far, maybe twenty minutes closer to the mountains. With no town limit sign in sight, I had no idea where I was, but it took forever to get there. Granted, I’d been driving for well over eighteen hours with stops, and perhaps was a bit irritable.

  The broad porch spread in front of me as I pulled down the driveway. I’d take it all in another day. I wasn’t in the mood to gush and be hospitable. I parked my car in the gravel driveway. My mother stood from the porch swing and set a mug on the table beside her. My door slamming echoed between the garage and the house. Her mug steamed like coffee, but I knew it was tea, something to calm her nerves while her wayward daughter set out on another reckless adventure.

  “Lindy.” It was more than my name. It was relief and happiness, and some sort of triumph or victory that I’d come.

  I let her hug me, but in the next breath I asked, “Where’s dad? I need to go see Amos.”

  “He’s inside honey, but you need to rest,” she looked me over and added, “and eat.”

  “No.” My statement left no room for anything else.

  My dad pushed the swinging screen door open and slugged my arm like he always had. I stumbled back a couple steps and rubbed my shoulder. He started to apologize, but the look on my face told him he better not.

  “Good drive?”

  “Wild,” I said, sober as ever. “Can we go see Amos?”

  “Your mom made muffins.”

  Without a word, I walked toward the garage. He whispered goodbye to mom and trailed after me.

  As we drove to the police station, he tried to make small talk, but my mind was stuck in Seattle. He mentioned the football season, though I’d been a little too busy to keep up on sports. Eventually, he gave up and filled me in on what he knew about the case.

  “The girl’s name was Honey B.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Are you teasing me?”

  “Not her given name. She’s a singer, well, she was a singer. Amos, he’s going by Mack right now, met her in a karaoke club and promised to make all her dreams come true. The neighbor found her in her apartment strangled with her microphone wire.”

  “Why suspect Amos?”

  “No alibi. His prints matched the ones on the door knob, but that could be easily explained away because he was her manager. The neighbors heard them arguing earlier that day, and with his accent, it’s easy to place him.”

  “Any prints or transfer on the microphone wire?”

  “No, it was wiped clean.”

  “It’s not enough. They can’t hold him on doorknobs.”

  “I agree, but Donnelley has foot in the door with the judge. They’re detaining Amos right now. He’s the number one suspect. If they find out his real identity, if they find one more scrap of evidence, Lindy, it will be the proverbial nail in the coffin.”

  My ex-boyfriend, Amos, took cautious to a whole new level. He’d worked people over his whole life. Con-man since day one if you hear him tell it. His prints weren’t in the system because, once the shoe dropped, he’d never
left anything behind. No more than a ghost who’d traveled the West Coast, hardly even a myth.

  “Has he been charged with the murder yet?”

  “No, but once they do, bail will be set well above a half million. I don’t think he’s got that laying around.”

  “He’s probably good for it,” I said with a little too much confidence.

  He caught my eye across the cab. “You need to work fast.”

  My heart wasn’t in it. My heart was with Ryder in that dimly lit hospital bed a thousand miles away. But Amos needed me, and the knowledge gave me a foothold in his case.

  I followed my dad into the precinct. The clipboard slid across the counter, pen rattling over the top from a chain. I signed a pseudonym, but paused before I continued.

  “What is it?” Dad’s terse whisper brought a few heads around.

  “The date,” I said, “I don’t even know what month it is.”

  Dates didn’t matter in the Eden’s Haven compound.

  “November 16th.” His voice betrayed his worry.

  I claimed to be Mack’s sister. Dad played it off as though they might get more information out of their suspect if he saw a friendly face. Thankfully, they bought the story. I followed an officer down the hall. My dad risked enough being seen with someone from the other side of the aisle. Dad wasn’t like me. He didn’t lie. The thought made my pulse quicken. If my law-loving lawyer father had taken to falsehoods, the situation was worse than I thought.

  Waning fluorescent lights lit the hallway, turning my skin a sickly shade. I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be with Ryder. Instead of holding his hand, I tangled my fingers together in a nervous disaster of anxiety.

  “Wait here,” the guard said. The steel door echoed behind him.

  Nothing was exactly white in the room, just a shade or two off, as if the walls were dirty, and trimmed in blue paint. Cameras recorded my movement. I sat in the chair and set my hands in front of me to show I was willing to place nice.