An hour later the cops leave with my statement, along with a bunch of information that Kane gave them privately, and I’m just about ready to fall on my face from exhaustion. Kane offers to bring me back to Marsden Mansion before going to hospital, but Mia says that she’ll take me instead, and that Wesley can just meet them there later on. “Thanks, Mia, it’s much appreciated, I need to get to the hospital, he didn’t look good when they took him away.” Kane gives me a hug and kiss, and tells me that he’ll see us later, then takes off to make sure John is alright. Mia calls Wesley and gives him the broad strokes of what the afternoon has been like, and tells him to meet us in a few hours.
I take the deepest breath I think I’ve taken in years, and it feels good to exhale. Mia gives me another hug – I swear I’ve never been hugged so much in a single day. “Tell me this will all be over soon, and we can go back to just telling each other about our sexual escapes behind Wesley and Kane’s backs, and just generally be normal. Tell me and I’ll bleive you.”
“It’ll be over,” she says, “But I need to know more before I feel comfortable using the word ‘soon’. But I hope that it is, and Wesley and I will do everything that we can to make sure it’s soon.” It’s not the most reassuring she’s ever been, but I know that she’s telling me the truth, and that’s all I can lean on right now.
What a weird dinner this is going to be. But, then again, what hasn’t been weird over the last week?
Chapter 17
Kane
I'm. Going. To. Fucking. Kill. Him.
It's been a while since I've felt like this - wait, who am I kidding, I've never felt like. . . this. I'm a good person (usually) from a respectable family. I was raised well, and I'm generally a calm person. So you can imagine how weird it feels to know in no uncertain terms that if Derrick was standing right in front of me at this moment, I'd have no trouble ending his miserable, psychotic existence once and for all.
Stop it, Kane, you sound fucking crazy! I am crazy right now, crazy enough to do to him what he almost did to John, and what he wants to do to the woman I love. . . Why haven't I told her that, yet? Why am I so stubborn that I'll do everything to show her how I feel, but I won't use the actual words. I can psycho-analyze myself later, but right now I'm worried about John; he wasn't conscious and he was covered in blood - that bastard did a number on him. And to think he was just trying to help her; trying to be a decent human being, and this is what he gets for his trouble. What a sick world we live in.
This is all too familiar for me - a girl I love being threatened by some degenerate piece of shit who's got a vendetta against the world. Maybe that's why I'm so nuts right now. Maybe everything that's happened with Derrick reminds me of Annabelle. Only this time, I won't need my big brother to save the day and make everything right. This time I'm not some scared little boy who can't do anything except stand on the sidelines feeling guilty. I'm a grown man now, and grown men can act, and that's exactly what I plan on doing.
There's the hospital entrance now - I swear they make these places like mazes, like their own little medical cities that are impossible to navigate correctly. I finally find a spot in this zoo of a parking lot and head inside to intensive care - Jesus I hope he's alive. The image of how he looked as the paramedics brought him out on that stretcher is something that I'll never erase from my memory. I need to call his wife - I don't know what I'm going to say to her. Fuck.
I finally get to the intensive care unit, and the receptionist tells me to have a seat and a doctor will be out to speak with me shortly. Shortly. There's a word no one uses in real life unless they have a job like this - a job where pissed off, agitated people are demanding something from you. I'm in no mood for her fake sweetness, but I'm not here to start a fight with a receptionist, so I guess that I'll just sit until someone is with me shortly.
Sitting here for even a few minutes gives me more time to think than I want right now. There's so much going through my mind that it's hard to keep everything straight: Dacia, Derrick, John, even Mia & Wesley being back, it's all scrambled in my brain right now. When I'm stressed like this I have to go into work mode - have to be a true Marsden and pretend that I'm sitting at the head of the boardroom, and not in an overcrowded hospital waiting room. Make a list. Make a hierarchy. Prioritize the problems so you tackle the most important first, then go down the list. That's an easy list to make, actually, even if the solutions escape me at the moment. Derrick. Derrick is number one on my hit list. If I can take care of him, the rest will fall into place. But what the hell am I going to do about that son of a bitch?
While I have the time I call John’s wife and tell her that he’s been assaulted and that he’s okay, and that she should make her way down here immediately. She reacts like any normal person should react – with panic, anxious sounding tears, and fear. I do my best to comfort her, but there’s only so much that words from your husband’s employer can do to assuage your fears in a moment like this. I tell her that I’m going to find out what’s going on, and that I’ll call her as soon as I do. Then I hang up and wait for some information. I can’t imagine how afraid she must be. We’re obviously not married, but what if it were me on the other end of a call like that about Dacia. What if Mia called me in the middle of the day when I was at work to tell me that Dacia. . . I don’t even want to think about that possibility right now.
Before I can think of a master plan I see a doctor approaching me with a clipboard in his hand and a scowl on his face. That can’t be a good sign, but I try to stay positive. After all, doctors in this line of work spend sixteen hour shifts doing nothing but seeing terrible things like what happened to John – worse even. I can’t imagine having a job like that; I think I might lose my mind.
“Mr. Marsden?” the doctor announces to the room. I raise my hand and the doctor waves me over, and we take a few steps out of the main waiting area and into the hallway.
“His wife is on the way, I just contacted her.” As I tell this to the doctor I realize something. “Wait, shouldn’t the hospital have contacted his wife when he arrived? It’s been a while and she seemed to be hearing this for the first time when I told her.”
“We wanted to call, Mr. Marsden,” he says back in his most rehearsed, dispassionate doctor voice. There must be a class in medical school they make these people take where they just practice sounding less than human when they have bad things to tell friends and family about their loved ones. I get it – I’d probably go into full robot mode also if I had to do this for a living. “But strangely Mr. O’Rourke didn’t have any identification on his except what I assume is an employee card from you.” I nod. “It only had his name and your company’s name on it, but his wallet was missing upon arrival.” That bastard stole his identification. Mental note – I need to call the cops right after I’m done with this doctor. “The only reason I’m talking to you is because we didn’t know if he even had a family, or if they’d be coming.”
“How is he?” I ask somberly, and then prepare myself for the worst.
“Right now he’s in critical condition, but we expect him to make it.” Thank God! “He has some internal injuries, but no signs of brain damage. As long as he makes it through the next few hours without incident we would expect him to make a full recovery, but it’ll be a long road back to normal, he was pretty hurt.” I’ll take it – a long recovery is better than being told to call all of his immediate family to see him one last time. I’ll pay for everything he needs, for as long as he needs.
“Thank you, doctor. His wife should be arriving shortly.” I shake his hand and get out of that place as fast as I can. I’ve always hated hospitals and being around too many doctors, there’s just something about that world that depresses me. As soon as I step outside I call the lead detective on Derrick’s case and tell him about the stolen ID from my driver. Derrick’s not stupid – crazy, but not stupid – but just in case he tries to use any of John’s credit cards or identifications the cops can flag him and pick
him up. It’s a long shot, but every little bit of information that may bring him in helps. I hope it’s that easy.
I get into my car after wandering the lot trying to remember where I parked, and I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down. This isn’t how I imagined the day going, but at least John’s going to live and no other damage has been done. When my heart slows I start to think more clearly. I’ve always done my best thinking when I’m alone, with as few distractions as possible, so instead of peeling out of here to get home, I just sit in the quiet of my parked car for a minute to do some analysis and assess the situation. Where are we, so far?
Derrick’s been paroled, but he’s basically gone on the lamb, and no one (except John) has seen or heard from him since he disappeared. What does that mean? It means that he no longer gives a shit about being free or living a normal life. He knows that he’s getting captured, and that it’s just a matter of time. So that leaves us with a very dangerous person – maybe the most dangerous type – one with nothing to lose. On top of that, all those years in jail have done nothing to dull his obsession with Dacia. If anything, it seems to have gotten stronger, plus now he’s also looking for revenge for all the years he’s spent in prison due to her testimony. Where does that leave everything? What’s his weakness? How can we get to him, wherever he is, and end this nightmare?
I hadn’t thought of it before. It’s too risky to consider . . . but it might just be crazy enough to work.
Chapter 18
Dacia
Welcome to the weirdest dinner in human history. I might be exaggerating, I do that sometimes, but it’s the weirdest one I’ve been involved with, anyhow. The host isn’t here; he’s driving back right now from a visit to the intensive care unit of the hospital because his driver – my driver – was assaulted and almost killed. The guests of honor, my best friend Mia and Kane’s brother, Wesley, just got back from their honeymoon. Wesley’s not here yet, and Mia’s spent her first post-honeymoon moments trying to resuscitate a dying man on the floor of my bedroom. Like I said, weirdest dinner ever! But I’m trying to make the best of it. Before everything happened with John, Mia and I were having a nice afternoon, and in my mind I was getting ready for a nice dinner tonight with friends. Even though it isn’t as planned, I still want to try to enjoy myself as much as possible. Maybe that’s the lesson from this whole mess; even though there are things to worry about outside of my control, I have to at least try to find joy inside my own life with the people I love.
I get a text from Kane that John’s gonna make it (thank God), and then he tells me that he’ll be home soon. So right now it’s just me, Mia, and Jordan hanging out in this giant room, waiting for our guys to arrive. Mia just keeps staring at Jordan, who’s lying belly-up on the floor. “Okay, so when you said she was a big girl you really didn’t do her justice, D. That’s a huge animal, what were you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I guess at first I was just feeling lonely, and I wanted some companionship, but there was something about her, specifically, that just called out to me, and I knew that she was my dog. Kindred spirits, maybe.”
“Kindred spirits?” Mia asks with her sarcastic, skeptical face, “So, you think you’re gonna be put down if no one adopts you too?”
“Shut up, you know what I mean. I was lonely and she had absolutely no chance at that place – it was like some kind of sad doggie Green Mile, and I knew that no one would adopt a full grown Rottie from a kill-shelter, so I took a chance on her. And she’s the sweetest girl in the world, Mia; you should make friends with her.”
“I’m sure she’s the Mother Theresa of dogs, but I’m good for right now.”
“Your loss,” I tell her as she makes that skeptical face again, “you’re missing out on some high-quality face licking and belly scratching, but whatever.”
Eventually we hear the gravel being driven over by tires just outside the window, and we know that someone’s here. We go to the front door, and when I open it I see Wesley standing in front of me. Maybe ‘standing over me’ is a better way to say it. I’ve forgotten how tall he is, and how small you can feel standing next to him like I am right now. Both of the Marsden brothers are big people compared to most men, but Wesley stature is something to behold. He doesn’t say a thing, just reaches down with arms outstretched in the doorway of his family home, and gives me a huge squeeze. “Hey there,” he says kindly, and he lifts me off the ground ever so slightly.
“Seriously, what is it with you boys and picking me up?” I joke.
“I guess we just like to feel like big, strong men. I’m sure a therapist would call it overcompensation.” Now we’re both smiling, and he walks through the doorway into the living room, a bouquet of flowers in his left hand. “Here,” he says, handing them to me, “these are for you. They hardly make up for everything you’re going through, but still.” I also forgot how sweet he is. He’s definitely the softer of the brothers, but not in a wimpy kind of way. What I mean is that he’s the more outwardly sensitive of the two, and I can see all the little thoughtful gestures like this that made Mia fall for him.
“Thanks, Wesley, you’re so sweet.”
“Mia tells me that every now and then, but I don’t agree. I’d like to keep my bad boy image going for a few more years, so don’t tell anyone about the flowers.”
“Speaking of bad-boys, have you heard from Kane?”
“He just texted me, actually, he’s on his way here now from the hospital. He sounded a little stressed out, but I understand why. John’s worked for our family forever. And besides that, I know that he’s really worried about you. So if he seems angry or doesn’t express his feelings appropriately, that’s where it’s coming from. I know my brother.” It’s funny how much can change over time. Last time Mia and I were in this very room it was Wesley who wasn’t exactly expressing his feelings ‘appropriate’, and Kane who was the more measured brother. I don’t have siblings, so I have no idea, but maybe that’s what the Marsden boys do – balance each other out. I won’t say this out loud, but even if Kane is stressed and worried, I hope he doesn’t temporarily loose his mind like Wesley did when he went after their sister’s kidnappers with a gun he got illegally.
“Okay, good, I’ll feel more normal when we’re all here together, and we can just hang out.” Wesley smiles at me in a weird way, then puts his hand on my shoulder like a parent who needs to tell their kid something important.
“Look, Dacia, I completely understand the want – hell, the need to feel normal right now. Your whole life has been upended and you’re in a weird place psychologically. But nothing’s normal right now – and I think that the less we pretend it is and the more we try to put our heads together to find a solution, the better your chances are of actually getting back to normal.” With those words I remember the last thing about Wesley that’s faded over the last few weeks – his brutal and perceptive level of honesty. He’s right, but the words are very tough to hear right now.
“Wes. . .” I put my hand up as Mia tries to interject. She’s protective of me, even against her own husband, but I don’t need any more protection.
“No, he’s right, Mia,” I say to her, “we’re just playing make believe right now. A few hours ago you and I were huddled over a man who was near beaten to death because of me, and now we’re going to chat it up about your honeymoon over some take-out? Wesley’s absolutely right. We don’t need fake normal right now; we need to think of how to end this whole situation so I can hear those honeymoon stories without worrying I might be dead tomorrow.” I don’ mean to be dramatic, I hate dramatics actually, but I’m doubling-down on Wesley’s sentiment.
“Okay, then,” Mia concedes “when Kane gets here let’s figure this all out.” I nod in agreement. “But I still want that take-out, I’m starving.”
“Oh, no, I agree. Food was never not going to be involved; I was just adding that for dramatic effect. I need to eat.”
I didn't feel it coming before Wesley said what he sai
d, but all took was a little push - a few words from a guy I haven't seen in weeks and who I honestly don't even know that well to make me feel it. I don't even know how to describe this particular it, except to say that its something like anger - a rising anger in my belly that's working it's way through my entire body. I'm sick of being the victim, the scared girl who's just waiting around for the other shoe to drop. I won't be Derrick's prey any longer.
Kane gets to the house a little while after I have my realization. I don't make any big speeches, or say any inspirational words like some cheesy scene in a movie, but something's changed inside of me, and I'm ready to hear what everyone has to say. When he comes in the room he looks less worked up than I thought he would. Maybe hearing that John's going to be okay and having a few minutes to himself has calmed him down some. I hope so - I feel so guilty that almost everything negative going on in Kane's life right now revolves around me and my drama.
He walks over without saying a word to Mia or his brother and gives me a long hug. I pull away after a second, not because I don't appreciate the gesture, but because I don't want to be comforted any more, I want to fight back. "You okay?" He asks as I withdraw.
"I actually think I am, yeah." I lean up and kiss him, just so he knows my pulling back isn't a rejection of him, and that I appreciate everything he's doing for me. I can see his face lighten when I do, and for a second I see a glimmer of hope come across it, like he doesn't have to be my savior in all of this, he can be my partner.
"And nice to see you too, Kane." The big brother in Wesley's tone is intense, and Kane grins when he hears it before turning around to face him.
"What?" He says sarcastically, "you want one too? I'm sorry to leave you out, I figured you got enough kisses from this one over the past few weeks that you didn't need one cell me, but okay." His sarcasm is so thick that everyone in the room cracks up as Kane walks over to Wesley with his arms wide opened and his lips puckered. Wesley reaches under his little brother's arms and hoists him in the air - it makes for a funny visual, seeing one giant guy pick another big guy up, but it's also very sweet to see the brothers together again.
Impressions of Me (Impressions Series Book 2) Page 15
