by Ronica Black
“Do you remember me, Scottie?” The sound of her voice surprised her, deep and strong, while her body began to tremble. She bent down into his line of sight. “It’s me. Sarah Monroe.” He didn’t move but she didn’t stop. “Don’t you remember your ‘pretty little Sarah’?”
His head slowly raised and his eyes shifted toward her. Vengeance flamed up her throat, so much so that she thought she could breathe fire with her words. She waited for his gaze to settle on her face before she said anything more. And then as she saw a glint of recognition in his drooping eyes, she spoke.
“That’s right, you son of a bitch. It’s me.” He groaned. She continued. “I wish I could say I’ve come for your soul. But I can’t. That belongs to a higher power.” She laughed, strange sounding and excited, as she saw the recognition in his eyes flicker with something else. Fear. He was in there. Trapped, just as she’d thought.
She wanted to pound him to a pulp, but she laughed again, realizing he couldn’t get much worse than he already was, unable to stand, to walk, to escape. She tried to imagine how it must feel. He was probably terrified. Helpless and afraid of what she might do. She had all the power. The realization thrilled her.
The screen door opened and Sarah took a step back as the woman she had seen before approached, looking confused. “Can I help you?”
It was obvious she recognized Sarah from their earlier exchange but she couldn’t make sense of her current presence.
“No. I’ve found what I was looking for.”
The woman’s confused expression gave way to apprehension. “You know him?”
“You could say that.”
The woman took a step back, her face tight with fear. “You’re not her, are you? The girl whose boyfriend attacked him?”
“No. I’m another one.”
“I see. Is this the first time you’ve seen him?”
“Yes.” Sarah held her eyes firmly and saw the woman’s expression slowly cloud with sadness.
Scottie groaned again and tried to move his fingers. The woman stepped up and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I have a pretty good idea what you’re looking for.”
“I found it,” Sarah said. “He’s in there.”
“Yes, yes he is. But he’s not the same. He’s not the man he once was.” She bent down next to him and took his hand. “I’ve been taking care of him since the…attack. I knew him before that, though. I’m his cousin Ilene.”
She took in an audible breath. “I always knew he wasn’t the best man he could be, but I had a hard time believing some of the things people said he’d done.”
Sarah felt a flicker of anger at her words. “What he did to me, I remember it like it was yesterday. And it haunts me, every single day.”
“I believe you,” Ilene responded calmly. “You aren’t the first one who’s come looking for him, either. There’s been others. They came right after the attack. Guess they must’ve read about it or something.”
Oh God. Sarah felt a wave of cold dizziness. She reached out and braced herself against the wall of the porch. Had there been others because she hadn’t told? It hadn’t been long after her eighteenth birthday that Scottie was attacked. She breathed a little easier. If she hadn’t been the last, there couldn’t have been many others. There wasn’t time.
“They come looking for him,” Ilene continued. “I think it made them feel better to see him like this.”
“I can imagine.”
Ilene watched her guardedly. “You seem to want something more.”
“Don’t worry, ” Sarah said dryly. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Like I said before, he’s not the same. He’s in there, but what’s left is a tortured soul. A fragile man who cries out in the middle of night, scared to death of the darkness.”
“I know the feeling,” Sarah responded, her voice still cold.
“Then I hope you know that the peace you seek is something he will never find. He knows who he was, he remembers, he relives. He cries, he feels, he fears.”
Sarah straightened, watching Ilene stroke his undeserving hand.
“He can’t hurt anybody anymore. He only hurts himself now, with his mind.”
Sarah allowed herself a long look at his gaunt face. A tear pooled and fell, traveling down the lines of his skin. He groaned again and fixed his eyes on her.
“He knows who I am,” she said.
“Yes.” Ilene paused, studying Sarah. “Believe me when I tell you that he’s paying for his sins. In this life and eventually, beyond.”
“I can see that.”
For several seconds they stared at one another and Sarah wondered what his cousin would do if she reached out both hands and strangled him. Would she stop her? Sarah clenched her jaw. She couldn’t summon the long-held vengeance and desire to do it. It would take a ruthless detachment that she didn’t have. She squeezed her fingers into her palms and looked away.
A hand fleetingly touched her arm and Ilene said, “I hope you find your peace.” She kicked up the brakes and rolled the wheelchair slowly backward.
Sarah stared at Scottie’s tortured face until it disappeared with his crippled body behind the door. “I do too,” she whispered. “I do too.”
*
Sarah rinsed her face with cool water and returned to the sofa. She felt weak, drained, beaten. She eased back down and eyed the envelope. Was it what she wanted? For years, she had wanted nothing more than to join the FBI and move far away, leaving her past far behind. But now she wasn’t so sure. After seeing Scottie, after looking into his eyes—into his soul—and seeing the suffering and fear, she felt strangely numb. Any anger and desire to take her own revenge had vanished, its hindering weight left on that front porch with the man trapped in his waking nightmare.
So what would she be running from now? She thought of Chandler. A part of her wanted to run from the woman, to hide her true self. But as exposed as Chandler made her feel, she also made her feel alive and willing to do anything to feel that way with her again. Sarah pondered her options, truly confused. Something had changed, and with it, so had her choices. Chandler Brogan was no longer a person she knew she would have to let go of. With the darkness and plague of Scottie vanishing from her chest, maybe there was room for love, room for Chandler. Maybe she could fill that empty space with light and warmth. Maybe she could be safe with another person at last.
Her eyes felt heavy and she allowed them to close, finally accepting all that she was feeling. Sleep seeped in, warm and soothing, promising the peace she longed for.
Chapter Sixteen
A fierce wind beat steadily against Chan’s tight chest, mirroring the hurt she felt deep inside. She relaxed a little as the roaring of her Harley soothed her inner turmoil. With a flick of her wrist, the machine sped up and she rode on, once again as one with the motorcycle, as one with the road. The sun was setting behind her, warming her back as she steered on toward her destination. The speed fed her need, pushing all that bothered her to the back of her mind. She had gone too long without it, and now her addiction demanded control once again. She had been foolish to think that she could go without pushing the limits, that sex could take its place.
No, not just sex. But Sarah. She laughed aloud at the thought. Sarah was the main reason she was riding tonight. Sarah was enough to make her forget about speeding through the night, if only she could have her. It was the aching that was getting to her. The goddamned craving. And jealousy. Three things she had never experienced before. The sex must’ve truly been amazing to drive her so crazy. But that was all it was, right? Sex. So why was she so driven to push Sarah from her mind by pushing the limit?
Because with Sarah, the sex had been more. The realization smacked her hard in the face, merging with the wind. She thought about the statement and no matter which way she examined it, she knew it was true, whether she wanted it to be or not. The intimacy she had felt wasn’t going away, it wasn’t something she could just forget about. Sarah wasn’t ju
st another one-night stand. Chan had feelings for her, feelings that unsettled her. She cared about Sarah.
Chan remembered her face, the flush of desire on her cheeks, the depth in her eyes. She remembered the way Sarah trembled beneath her fingers. So strong in body but so fragile inside.
With the thoughts still eating at her, she slowed her bike and pulled into Hank’s driveway. If there was one person who would understand her disorientation, it was Hank. As she climbed off the bike and tried to clear her mind of Sarah, she was thankful for his dinner invitation. Hopefully, he wanted to ride.
She gave the door to his new, costly home a soft knock and pushed her way inside. Grandma Meg saw her first, smiling warmly and approaching from the kitchen. She gave Chan a peck on the cheek and her shoulders a squeeze. Chan had been in such a daze she hadn’t even noticed her car parked out front.
“How are you, love?” Meg asked.
Chan managed a smile regardless of her wayward thoughts. “I’m okay. How are you?”
She had noticed recently that her grandmother looked tired and wondered if she was eating right. She wondered if she was lonely. Not for the first time she felt a small pang, knowing that the woman who had brought them up wasn’t getting any younger. She had taken Meg for granted most of her life, and she knew that had to change.
“I’m perfectly fine, as usual.” Meg raised her hand to tilt Chan’s face toward her own. “But you don’t seem okay. Your eyes are full of troubles.”
Chan turned her head, resisting the pressure from her hand. Her grandmother could always read her, and the accurate assessment brought a flood of emotion dangerously close to the surface. Not wanting to let her feelings overcome her, Chan moved away and headed farther into the house, asking, “Where’s Hank?”
“I’m not sure.” Meg followed, still examining her with concerned intensity. They entered the kitchen, where Kelly, Hank’s wife, was stirring a pot at the stove with one hand and holding the phone to her ear with the other.
“Kelly won’t let me help,” Meg remarked. “We’re just supposed to make ourselves comfortable.”
Obviously hearing their discussion, Kelly turned and gave a friendly wave. She ended her phone call with a promise to call back later and approached Chan for a brief hug.
“Hank’s out back.” She motioned toward the back door. “Why don’t you go tell him I’m almost finished in here?”
Chan nodded and walked to the sliding door. She eased it open, thankful for an escape from her grandmother’s knowing eyes.
The yard was vast, at least two acres in size, with the back half completely covered with mounds and mounds of packed dirt. She smiled. Hank had made his own practice run. Catching the unmistakable sounds and smells of meat sizzling over a fire, she walked to the edge of the large patio, noticing the onset of nightfall. They’d been invited for a family meal, but her insides were in no mood for food. Antsy, and wanting to get on the road, she stepped up next to her brother, who was busy flipping the smoking steaks.
“Hey, sis.” He smiled.
“Hey yourself.” She smiled back and slid her hands into her pockets. “This is quite a surprise.” She glanced around his well-kept yard and beautiful pool, taking in just how much he had matured since his marriage a few months before. The house was a huge change from his large, bachelor apartment, the one he’d shared with a few wild daredevil friends over the years, too content to worry about getting another place. Racing bikes paid handsomely if you were good, and until now Hank had spent his money on toys, vehicles, and partying. Kelly was causing big changes in her brother. He was twenty-nine and finally growing up. She wondered how long it would be before he grew a mustache and love handles and started spending all his time on home improvement rather than raising hell.
“A surprise?” he asked.
Her gaze fell back upon him, spatula paused in midair. “This.” She motioned with her hand. “You cooking, inviting us over.” It was different, a start to his married life, a start to the new ways she predicted.
Hank laughed. “I guess it is a change. I bet you and Meg don’t know what to think.”
Chan nodded. She knew what was to come. It wouldn’t be a surprise to her. Still, she wondered about the riding. Surely he wouldn’t give that up. She looked up into the sky and again noted just how quickly daylight was dimming. “I was hoping we would have time to ride before nightfall.”
Hank lifted the steaks up off the grill, sliding them onto a large plate. “You rode your bike?” He seemed surprised.
“Well yeah, I thought that was why you invited me over.”
He set down the plate and faced her. “I thought we weren’t going to ride again for a while. You know, since the law—”
“Oh come on, Hank. I already paid my ticket, it’s been almost two weeks—”
“No,” he interrupted, not letting her finish.
“No what?”
“No. I’m not riding.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He closed the lid to the grill.
“Yes, I did, but I’m convinced I didn’t hear correctly. I thought I heard you say you weren’t going to ride.” He couldn’t mean it. She wouldn’t accept it. This was so unlike him. Nothing and no one told Hank no, not when it came to riding. She searched for a meaning, a root. “That cop actually scared you?”
“No. But she did open my eyes a little.”
Chan glanced away, suddenly afraid Hank would see just what all the cop had done to her. She shoved Sarah to the back of her mind as he continued.
“I was hoping the fear of getting arrested would open yours as well.”
Chan scoffed. “I’m not going to get arrested. She was bluffing.”
“Then what about getting killed? Does that scare you?”
Chan straightened at the words. She could feel her eyes widening as she took stock of her brother, this changed man before her. It was Kelly. Kelly had done this. Sure Chan had expected the young bride would change her brother in many predictable ways. But convincing him to stop riding? It was unbelievable.
“Where is this coming from?” she demanded. “Since when do you worry about shit like that?”
He sounded like Meg. Maybe that’s what this was all about. Meg had gotten to Kelly, and now they both were after Hank, his new bride no doubt sick with worry over his wild riding.
“Look if it’s Kelly, I understand, I’ll talk to her.”
“Chan.” But she kept on, convinced and willing to do anything to get her partner back, her brother, her best friend who rode alongside her on the wings of fate. “Chan!”
She stopped then, startled. Hank stood staring at her, his hand gripping the spatula with obvious stress.
“Kelly’s pregnant.”
“What?” She could barely comprehend what he was saying.
“I’m going to be a father.”
Chan stared up at him in complete surprise, desperate to find the little brother who had forever chased after her, willing to do all that she dared. But he was gone. What stood before her now was a married young man, a responsible young man, a man about to become a father.
“I don’t know what to say.” She looked away, unsure and completely shocked.
Why was she so surprised? This was what young married couples did. They started a family. But all she could think about was herself and how this was going to change their relationship, how it already had. It pained her, all of it.
“Congratulations would be a start.” He gave a soft smile and released his grip on the spatula.
Chan shook her head. “Of course.” She met his eyes. “Congratulations.” She wished she could say the word with more conviction, but it just wasn’t in her. She felt torn and overwhelmed. The changes she had been ready for didn’t include this, and she was having trouble accepting it right away. “This is why you won’t ride,” she whispered.
“There are other things in life,” he replied, taking her breath away once more. The Hank she knew as well as sh
e knew herself would never have said such a thing.
Dismayed, she asked, “Is this…forever? You’re quitting?” She was referring to his career as a motocross rider as well as his leisure riding.
“Yes. Eventually. I’m going to start backing off a little. Stick around home a little more.”
“What will you do, I mean, after the riding?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Get a job.”
It was all coming at her so fast. She could barely keep up with his words. Hank, a job? A suit-and-tie-type job? No way. How could he give up riding? He was pro and it paid him well, better than well. Especially when he won. Sponsors ate him up, paying him huge sums to wear their gear, ride their bikes, and wear their T-shirts.
He seemed to read her mind and her questions. “We have enough to live off for a while. But eventually, I’ll do something else.” He paused. “I was thinking about getting a real estate license. The valley’s booming…”
She zoned him out, refusing to hear anymore. It wasn’t Hank, it didn’t even sound like him. None of it seemed real to her. “What about that new chopper you just bought?”
The memory of their last ride blew through her, leaving a hollow sadness. She needed to remind him of it, remind him that he just got that bike. Why would he do that if he really wanted to stop riding?
“I didn’t buy it. It was a gift,” he clarified.
Chan ran a wary hand through her hair, recalling that one of his sponsors had it made for him as a bonus. Hank had been given numerous gifts like that over the years. The realization shot down and sank her last floating hope at reaching him. He hadn’t actually bought it, hadn’t put the thought into its creation. He had other things on his mind. Hank was settling down. Not just in a physical sense, but emotionally as well. She had just been too blind to see it.
