Dark Harvest (A Holt Foundation Story Book 2)

by Chris Patchell

  Just the thought of it set her stomach churning. A few months ago, she would have jumped at the chance to see him play, be part of his life. Now there was no way she could imagine driving three hours in the pouring rain to sit in a bar with a room full of strangers, waiting for some psycho to show up and fuck up her world.

  Unable to utter the words, she shook her head, and Jesse nodded like he’d known all along what she would say.

  A key rattled in the lock, and they both turned as Marissa came through the door. Grocery bags cupped in one hand and her purse in the other, she shook the rain from her hair.

  “Whose truck is in the driveway?”

  “Mine. Am I blocking you?”

  Jesse pulled his car keys from his pocket. She looked surprised to see him, and she smiled in way of a greeting.

  “No, not at all.” Marissa placed the grocery bags on the floor and removed her coat. “It’s good to see you, Jesse.”

  Without asking, he picked up the groceries and deposited them on the kitchen counter. He was nice that way. Always had been.

  “I’m ordering Chinese for dinner,” Marissa said. “Would you like to join us?”

  Returning to the living room, Jesse shook his head.

  “Sorry, I’m getting together with the guys. We’re gonna jam later on.”

  Brooke’s sagging spirits took another blow. Of course, he didn’t want to stay. She’d been acting like a freak ever since he got here. He probably couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

  “I could make coffee,” Marissa offered and Brooke cringed.

  Her mother was trying too hard. It was embarrassing, like being setup on a blind date. She wanted to find a way to make her mom stop, but she didn’t know how.

  “What do you say we go for a drive?” he asked her.

  Brooke looked out the window. It was a miserable night—pitch black and raining. She didn’t want to go out there in the dark. But she couldn’t stay in here the rest of her life either. If she refused, if she didn’t go with him, would she ever see Jesse again?

  The thought of letting him go was too painful. Besides, Jesse would never hurt her. She was safe as long as she was with him—as safe as she could ever be.

  “Okay,” she said.

  Marissa smiled at Brooke. She pulled down Brooke’s coat from the rack, holding it out for her to slide into, like she had when Brooke was a child. She stopped short of zipping it up. Brooke hoped that Jesse hadn’t noticed, but figured that he probably had. Anything had to be better than being trapped here underneath her mother’s hopeful gaze.

  The razor-sharp wind cut through her jacket. Hard rain peppered her face. Shoulders hunched, she rushed around the truck to the passenger’s door and climbed inside.

  The sight of the house disappearing down the block unnerved her. It was the farthest she’d been from the relative safety of home or her mother since being released from the hospital. She knotted her hands in her lap and focused on her breathing, her heart hammering so hard she wondered if Jesse could hear.

  Jesse watched the road. A grim look sat heavy on his face. She could only imagine what he was thinking.

  He wasn’t much for small talk. Thank god. Pretending things were normal was such a waste of time. She didn’t even know what normal looked like any more.

  Normal girls were fun, uncomplicated, without a care in the world. She’d been like that once too. Her roommate Tess was the consummate party-goer, and Brooke followed in her wake.

  Tess.

  Remembering Tess brought a fresh wave of pain crashing over her. If they hadn’t gone out that night. If they hadn’t met Charles Sully and Andy Bowman, where would they be right now? At the university campus tucked safely in their dorm rooms? Studying for exams and talking about boys? Tess wouldn’t be dead and she and Jesse might have gotten back together. Here they sat only inches away from each other in the truck, but they were worlds apart. Jesse lived out in the real world while she . . .

  She couldn’t help herself. Her gaze strayed back to his face. Just looking at him hurt. She wanted him—had always wanted him, since the first time he’d kissed her under the trees by the high school. But now, with everything that had happened to her, he wouldn’t want her anymore. No one would.

  She was broken.

  As if sensing her gaze, he glanced at her, and their eyes locked. He was worried. She could see it in his face.

  “Don’t.” The word was torn from her heart. Tears clogged her throat.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  She covered her eyes, wishing she hadn’t come. She should have stayed home. Sitting here so close to him and knowing that they would never be together again was torture.

  “Like that. Like I’m some kind of wounded animal you need to take care of.”

  “It’s not like that, Brooke.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “I do care. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

  She could feel his gaze on her again but she refused to look his way. She didn’t want to see the truth buried in his eyes. He pitied her. He felt sorry for her. Everyone did.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said.

  “Why does everyone say that? I’m not okay. I’ll never . . .” She bit back the words, tears welling behind her eyes.

  This is how he was going to think of her—some kind of shriveled up, damaged thing.

  “You’ll never what?”

  Be the same. Be normal. Be one of those girls again.

  “Never mind.” She cleared her throat and pressed her fingers to her eyes, trying to stop the tears from forming, but it was hopeless. They leaked out from beneath her lids and slid slowly down her face.

  “You can talk to me, Brooke. It doesn’t have to be perfect, or pretty. You can just tell me.”

  “Tell you what? How he beat me? Raped me? Is that what you want to hear?” She glared at him in the dim glow from the dashboard lights, unexpected anger piercing the veil of her sadness.

  To his credit, Jesse didn’t flinch, but there was no way she could tell him what it had been like to be trapped in the cabin at the bottom of the valley. Stretching out her insulin supply to dangerous levels while she waited for someone to come and save her.

  “Every morning I wake up thinking about him and what he did to me. The rain. The fear. The emptiness. And I’m back there. It’s not just me. I see Mom and Kelly watching me. Worrying about me.”

  Each word felt like it was being wrenched from her soul. It was horrifying. Humiliating. She didn’t want him to know what it felt like to be inside her head.

  “Kim was the smart one,” she said.

  “Kim Covey? You mean the girl who died?”

  “She wanted to die. She knew there would be no living with what he did.”

  Jesse absorbed her words in shocked silence.

  “Don’t say that, Brooke. Don’t ever say that.” His voice cracked with worry. “Terrible things have happened to you, but you have people all around you who love you. Who would miss you.”

  Brooke wished she could have the words back but it was too late. She’d said too much. She had sacrificed nearly everything to escape that place, but Kim knew the truth. Part of her would always be there, tied up in the dark. Just another dead girl hanging from the rafters. As hard as she tried to claw her way out of the pit of darkness she found herself in, she knew that part of her had died there.

  “Take me home.”

  “You have to promise me that you won’t do anything stupid.”

  Brooke’s smile was twisted.

  Stupid was such a relative term.

  “Promise me, Brooke,” he pressed. Gently he laid his hand on top of her clenched fists. The warmth of his touch rippled through her. Brooke didn’t pull away.

  “I promise,” she said.

  Chapter 25

  Tory drove slowly past the parking lot. Lots of cars in there, and that wasn’t the only thing—
security guards. Surveillance cameras. It wasn’t safe. Too much traffic. Too many ways she could be spotted.

  The baby squawked in the back. Just one small cry, then he fell silent.

  “It’s okay,” she said, as if he could understand that she was trying to help. She swung down a crowded side street. Cars jammed both sides of the road, leaving room for only one car to pass. She looked for a place to park.

  Nothing this block. Nothing the next.

  The baby let out another cry. He was hungry. He needed food.

  Her cell phone rang and she glanced at it. Xander. She didn’t answer. If he heard the baby crying, he would know that she had disobeyed.

  But what was she supposed to do? Let the baby die? She couldn’t do that. She wasn’t a monster. Neither was Xander. He had been a different person before he got sick.

  She remembered the day he’d saved her from her ex-boyfriend, Cody. Two years had passed, but she remembered it like it was yesterday.

  Cody had seemed like such a nice guy when she’d first met him. He’d flirted with her as she’d fixed up his hand, after a bar fight turned into a brawl. He swore that he’d been defending his best friend from getting beat to a pulp by some thugs. Only after he moved in did she learn the truth. There was no bar fight. His girlfriend had kicked him out, so after a couple of pints with the boys, he returned home to teach her a lesson. He fled before the cops arrived and was later charged with domestic abuse.

  Their first few weeks together were great and he seemed like the perfect guy. Then one day he’d started to make comments about the apartment being messy, dinner being cold, and criticizing her looks. Gradually his remarks became more cutting until they were something she could no longer ignore.

  Tory didn’t know why she attracted losers. Every boyfriend she’d ever had treated her badly in the end. All she wanted was someone to love her, but maybe her mother was right. Maybe she was stupid. Unlovable. She supposed that was why she put up with his shit. It’s not like she was going to do any better.

  Tory’s car was in the shop and she’d asked Cody to give her a ride into work. He wanted money, like he always did, but Tory didn’t have any to spare. Fixing the car was going to cost a fortune, but Cody wouldn’t quit.

  “Come on, I’ll pay you back,” he whined.

  “I told you, I don’t have it.”

  “You make twice as much money as me.”

  It was true. A few days earlier, she was standing in the checkout line at the grocery store when she’d opened her wallet. The thirty dollars in cash she’d had was gone. He’d stolen it. Mortified, Tory had paid for the groceries with her debit card and gone home to confront him. That was the first time he’d shoved her.

  Cody pulled into the employee parking lot behind the hospital and stopped in a handicapped stall near the front.

  “Just fifty bucks,” he persisted.

  Tory unbuckled her seatbelt and checked her watch.

  “I’ve got to go. I’m going to be late.”

  She opened the door. Cody grabbed for her, but she batted his arm away. A flash of anger, bright and fierce, swept through her and she lashed out. The flat of her hand connected with his face. The slap was so hard that her palm stung from the blow.

  Cody looked as shocked as she felt as she scrambled from the car. Tory hurried toward the building. She heard the car door slam as his thundering footsteps approached.

  “Get back here,” he said.

  Her stomach constricted at the anger in his voice but Tory didn’t dare stop. Two feet away from the back entrance he grabbed a fistful of her hair. Her head snapped back. She caught a glimpse of blue sky, before he hurled her toward the brick wall. Her forehead struck with an audible crack. She cried out. Stars exploded behind her eyes in a bright flash of pain.

  Her forehead throbbed as he pinned her in place.

  “I’ll get you the money,” she said.

  She’d get an advance on her credit card, or a payday loan, whatever it took to appease him.

  “Goddamned right you will,” he hissed, his fist still knotted in her hair.

  “Let me go,” she said, horrified that this was happening out in the opening where somebody might see.

  “You’re lucky I don’t kill you.”

  Tory was trembling from head to toe. She knew he kept a gun in the glove compartment of his car.

  “You heard the lady, let her go.”

  Tory recognized the voice and died a thousand deaths. It belonged to one of the surgeons she’d met a few times before.

  Half a head shorter and dressed in blue scrubs, he didn’t look like the sort of guy who would do well in a fight as he stared Cody down.

  Cody jut out his chin and didn’t budge. Tory held her breath. Then a chuckle rumbled at the base of his throat and he released his grip.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” he muttered and stalked to the car.

  She acknowledged him with a wooden nod. He peeled out of the lot, tires squealing, as Tory headed for the door.

  “Hang on,” the doctor said, catching her by the shoulder. “Let me take a look.”

  His fingers gently pressed against the side of her skull, searching for bumps or abrasions. He probed along her eye socket down to her cheekbone.

  She winced as he found a tender spot and pulled free of his grasp.

  “That hurt?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re sure? No headache?” He examined each of her eyes. “Follow my finger.”

  He held up his index finger and moved it from side to side. Tory sighed and did as she was told. He brought his finger back to center and moved it closer, aiming for her nose.

  “Seriously, it wasn’t that hard,” she said.

  They both knew it was a lie, but he let the comment pass.

  “Sometimes words can do more damage than fists.”

  The truth of his statement hit Tory hard and she bit her bottom lip to stop the tears from forming.

  “If you experience any dizziness or nausea, I want you to call me. Promise?”

  He was standing between her and the doorway staring intently into her eyes. Tory wanted to slide past him and be on her way, but he was still waiting for her answer.

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Good. You’re a smart girl, Tory. You shouldn’t let anyone treat you that way.”

  No one had ever called her smart before. Not her teachers, her mother, or her aunt. Tears filled her eyes.

  “How do you know my name?” she asked.

  He stepped back and opened the door.

  “I have a good memory. You’re one of the few nurses who listens and does exactly what I ask. I’m Xander by the way. Xander Wilcox.”

  His hand rested lightly on her back as he guided her inside.

  #

  Headlights flashed and a horn honked up ahead as a car approached from the opposite direction.

  Tory shook off the memory and snapped back into the moment. She gripped the wheel and swore. Didn’t he realize there wasn’t room to pass? She stopped, but the other car kept coming. Gritting her teeth, she glanced around. She pulled into a narrow driveway and waited while the other driver motored past.

  A backlit figure appeared at the picture window and peered out at her car. From her size and her stooped shape, Tory guessed she was an elderly woman—no doubt the type of eagle-eye that kept watch over the neighborhood. Tory clutched the wheel. The old busybody was probably watching her right now, writing her license plate down just in case.

  Her phone beeped. A new voicemail. She would erase it as soon as she finished what she came here to do. She’d tell Xander that she didn’t get it. After all, cell reception was often spotty where they were. He’d buy it. At least she hoped he would.

  Sliding the car into reverse, Tory hit the gas. Her tires chirped as she backed out of the driveway and down the narrow street.

  This was taking too long. If he was already looking for her, he would know that something was up.

/>   Tory sped down the block, forcing herself to stay in the moment, when she saw it. A gap in the cars. There it was, plain as day, a parking spot under an old elm tree. It was like a sign.

  She pulled into the parking spot and got out of the car. Rain fell in an icy drizzle from the charcoal sky. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up.

  Ten minutes, she promised herself. In ten minutes she’d be out of here. Xander would never know what she’d done. She’d tell him she’d dumped the boy in the woods and drove back to town. And he’d believe her. Up until now, she’d done everything he’d asked.

  Tory removed the baby seat from its base. Glancing around, she saw a thin man walking his dog approach. Hunching over the baby, she shielded the newborn from view. Like any mom protecting her baby from the cold night, she draped a thin, fleece baby blanket over the opening of the car seat.

  Her heart beat frantically while she waited for him to pass.

  The man whistled a classical tune, Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, as he strolled along the sidewalk. The damned dog stopped to sniff her boot.

  “Come on, Cody.” The man tugged on the leash, but the dog refused to budge. Tory straightened up. The man was smiling. “He’s a stubborn cuss.”

  Tory didn’t comment. The baby started to cry. Great.

  “Cody . . .” The owner tugged harder on the leash. The dog tags rattled.

  Ignoring him and his stupid dog, Tory hurried away from them at a half trot. The baby must have liked the sway of the car seat because he stopped crying. Thank god. It was the first thing that had gone right all night.

  The blue hospital sign shone through the gloom like runway lights drawing her in. Two hundred yards away and closing.

  Just as Tory stepped into the crosswalk, a car sped around the corner. Tires skid on the wet pavement as the driver spotted her and slammed on the brakes. Tory gasped as the vehicle hurtled toward her. Caught in the beam of the headlights, she froze. Someone grabbed her from behind and hauled her back onto the curb. The baby carrier slipped in her sweaty palm. Tory lurched and grabbed onto the handle with both hands.

  “Jesus, what an asshole,” the man said, releasing his grip on Tory’s jacket. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks,” she said. She kept her head down, pretending to check on the baby. She didn’t want him to get a clear look at her face just in case things went wrong.