“They’re releasing her today. Overall, she’s doing better.”
I clasped my hands together in front of me. “I’m so glad to hear she’s okay. I know this has been a lot on you.”
His gaze latched on to mine, and I saw pain in the depth of his eyes—pain that I’d like to avoid. Every time I spoke to Riley’s parents, things seemed to spiral into even more of a disaster.
“We need to talk, Gabby.”
“About what?” Uneasiness stirred inside me. I knew exactly what he was getting at, and it was an issue I didn’t want to address. I didn’t want to make things worse. To be honest, I wanted the whole situation to just go away.
“About Riley.” That same gaze—the one that reminded me so much of Riley—refused to break with mine.
I fidgeted. I had talked my way out of a lot of things before. Talking myself out of this one would be my hardest task yet. “Can’t this wait? Your wife is in the hospital, right now. No one’s thinking clearly. Especially not me.”
His throat looked tight and his gaze burdened as he continued. “We’ve talked with our lawyers. By tomorrow, it will have been two weeks since Riley’s been in a coma. His doctors have agreed that we can safely transfer him. We’ve arranged for it to happen on Tuesday.”
My blood went ice cold. “That’s only a few days away.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“What’s the rush?”
“The sooner Dr. Moreno can start his treatments on Riley, the more effective they’re supposed to be.”
I raised my chin. “Mr. Thomas—Ron—I don’t always use the best judgment, and I’m not always great at utilizing my people skills. I don’t know how to say this without being offensive.” I swallowed hard. “You should know that I’m looking for Riley’s Power of Attorney documents still. I’m not going to give up. I don’t believe Dr. Moreno and his treatments are the best course of action for Riley.”
He nodded, not defeated but downcast all the same. “Look all you want. We’ll understand if you want to slow this process down. It’s very difficult for us as well. But we wanted to let you know our decision. Unfortunately, being in this state of uncertainty has been a strain for us, especially for my wife. We just feel like it’s time to make a choice and stop living in wait.”
Tears stung my eyes again. I wanted to get out of here before the floodgates opened again. I stood, trying to hold myself together. “I should go. Please tell Evelyn I’m thinking of her.”
“Gabby . . .”
I almost turned and just started going. But something about the tone of his voice made me stay.
“I have one more thing for you.”
I paused, still hesitant, still ready to flee, but curious at the same time.
Ron held out an envelope. What was this? A legal notice of his own? Heat started rising in me.
Sorrow lined his eyes. “I found this while I was going through some of Riley’s things. I thought you’d want to see it.”
I stared at the paper, trepidation rising in me. “What is it?”
“It’s the vows Riley was writing for your wedding.”
CHAPTER 20
My throat suddenly burned. I reached forward, my lungs tightening, my eyes stinging, and my emotions going haywire. When I touched the envelope, I almost felt like the paper shocked me.
I looked up at Riley’s dad and nodded. “Thank you.”
He nodded back, tears in his eyes.
I took the envelope and stuck it in the back pocket of my jeans. I couldn’t read the vows here. I couldn’t read them now. No, I needed to lock myself in my apartment with some coffee and lots of chocolate and tissues first.
Before Riley’s dad could say anything else, I waved goodbye and hurried down the hallway. I didn’t want him to see any more of my tears. I didn’t want to hear any more of his excuses.
I wasn’t ready to lose Riley. Even if he couldn’t speak back to me, I liked having him close. I wanted to come to the hospital and see him every day, even if he was hooked up to machines. Furthermore, I wasn’t ready to leave his life in the hands of Dr. Moreno. Was that selfish? I wasn’t sure.
In the midst of my heavy thoughts, my cellphone beeped. I almost didn’t check it. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. But, when I saw it was Parker’s number, I decided to pick up.
I was verbally assaulted as soon as I said hello and regretted my decision to answer.
“What were you thinking?” Parker screeched.
“What are you talking about?” Really, I had no clue at the moment. What had I done now? I was trying to be responsible and not my usual headstrong self.
“Please tell me you didn’t give Bill McCormick a message to give to Milton Jones.”
I vaguely remembered my conversation with Bill this morning. I had done that, hadn’t I? “I may have said something. In anger. And bitterness too, for that matter. But I didn’t mean it. I don’t even remember what I said.”
“Let me refresh your memory. McCormick just announced on his show, for the world to hear, that you were coming for Jones. Are you going to offer yourself as some kind of human sacrifice because you can’t deal with your fiancé being in a coma?”
I bristled and quickened my pace through the sterile hallway of the hospital. “I’m not offering myself as anything. If I remember correctly, Jones is dead. They’re examining his body now. So why do you sound so worried?”
Parker’s voice crackled with indignation. Righteous indignation? That depended on whom you asked. “What about all of those other sickos out there, Gabby? You don’t think one of them won’t get any ideas from all of this? You just set yourself up for a whole lot of danger, and I’m not sure there’s anything I can do about it.”
“I didn’t ask you to do anything, much less to try and protect me. Why don’t you just worry about yourself?” My words left a bitter taste in my mouth. What was wrong with me? What had happened to the girl with so much hope? The one grateful for a clean slate?
“Everyone has said you’re pushing away from them.” Parker’s voice took on a new tone, a solemn one.
The switch in the conversation even made me more angry. I could handle his self-righteousness much better than I could handle his compassion.
“Everyone? Since when have you talked to everyone?” The last I heard, when Parker and I had broken up, he hadn’t continued to stay in touch with my friends. What . . . had he been investigating my social life?
“I talked to Sierra. She said you’re avoiding her.”
Had I been? I couldn’t remember. I just remembered being focused.
Before I could retort, a man in the distance caught my eye. Why did he look familiar? He pushed a maintenance cart and wore coveralls with the hospital’s name on the front.
Had I been at the hospital so often that I was starting to recognize the maintenance workers? That was one sure sign that I’d been here too much.
The maintenance man rounded the corner. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I followed him.
He almost looked like . . . I shook my head. No, it couldn’t be.
“Are you there, Gabby?”
What had Parker said before that? Something about Sierra? “For the record—not that it’s any of your business—I’m not avoiding Sierra. She’s a newlywed. I’m giving her space.”
“The pastor at your church said you weren’t returning his calls.”
“You talked to him too?” I nearly screeched. “What are you doing? Investigating me?”
“No, Gabby.” He sighed in that ridiculing way I’d become accustomed to from him. “I ran into Sierra when I stopped by the apartment looking for you the other day. I talked to the pastor because I had to ask him a question for this investigation.”
“A question about Riley.” I filled in the blanks. Did Parker know that Riley may have been cheating on me? Maybe I’d told him. I couldn’t keep anything straight right now. Knowing Parker, he’d discovered that on his own, and it was just one more reason he wa
s feeling sorry for me. My ex feeling sorry for me was the last thing I wanted.
“I even heard a rumor that you’ve been listening to piano ballads. That’s a sure sign of depression.”
I ignored Parker this time. Instead, I focused on the maintenance man in front of me. He kept walking, whistling as he did. I stayed a good distance behind him, not wanting to clue him in to my presence.
I wasn’t even sure why I was following the man, except for the fact that he looked vaguely familiar. I had to know that the man wasn’t someone who should be on my radar. If I simply let him go, the question of who he was would bug me for the rest of the day . . . the rest of my life even.
“Are you still there, Gabby?”
“I’m here,” I said more quietly than before.
“Look, I’m not trying to make you mad. I’m just worried. A lot of people are.”
I hardly heard him. Maybe I didn’t want to hear him. Instead, I turned another corner, cutting through the maternity unit. “I can take care of myself.”
“Now you’re sounding like the Gabby I first met. Too headstrong for your own good.”
“I really don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“Where are you anyway?”
I decided to confess what I was doing. Someone needed to know . . . just in case, well, you know. Parker seemed the easiest choice at the moment. “Parker, you’re going to think I’m losing my mind.”
“I’ve thought that for a long time.”
“Ha ha. So funny you are.” I watched as the man walked past the nursery. I hurried past a young couple staring with googly eyes at the babies on the other side of the glass.
“What are you doing right now that might only increase that opinion, Yoda?”
I hesitated, but only for a second, before blurting the truth. “I think I see Milton Jones.”
“Gabby . . .” There was a definite undertone of warning in his voice.
“What’s the big deal? You said he’s dead.” How many times could I play that card? You’d better believe I was going to keep using it for as long as I could.
“Have you lost your mind?” he screamed. “Stop following him. Now.”
“I’m keeping my distance. I don’t want to confront him. I just want to know if it’s him. If it’s him, I want to see where he’s going.”
“I’m headed to the hospital now, Gabby. Don’t do anything stupid.”
The man pushed through the doors and out of the maternity ward. Then he started toward the staircase. The staircase? No. It would be incredibly hard to follow him there without being seen or heard. But what other choice did I have?
“You’re being quiet. That’s not a good sign.”
“He went in the staircase, Parker.” I kept walking, kept following him.
“Don’t go in the staircase.”
Maybe I’d wait a few minutes. Then I’d step inside. I’d listen for footsteps. Determine if the man was headed up or down. And then I’d slowly follow.
I’d be subtle, something I was never very good at doing.
“Why do you think it’s him, Gabby? Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“It’s the way he moves.”
“Same height?”
“Same height, same frame. He must be wearing a wig because he’s got a ponytail. He’s wearing a baseball hat as well.”
“I’m alerting security at the hospital. I want you to stand down.”
I paused outside of the staircase. How long had it been since the man went in there? It felt like hours. In reality? It had probably been a few seconds.
“Did you hear me, Gabby?”
“I don’t work for you, Parker.” Certainly it had been thirty seconds, at least. I had to go in now. “If I’m not talking, it’s because I have to be quiet. I just wanted to let you know.”
“Gabby!”
Before I could hear anything else, I turned down the volume on my phone. Parker was so loud that everyone around could hear him, and he wasn’t even on speaker.
I licked my lips before opening the door to the staircase. I listened for a minute, trying to hear something other than my heart pounding in my ears. It was quiet.
My hands were shaking as I pushed open the door farther. Slowly, I slid inside. My senses were on alert, my skin felt alive with anticipation, my throat was dry.
“Gabby?” Parker’s tiny voice rang out from the phone below.
I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to signal anyone to my presence. I listened again. The footsteps were going down.
With a moment of hesitancy, I let the door close behind me.
Silence surrounded me. Had the man left the staircase? On what floor? Had I lost him?
I slipped my flip-flops off, not willing to take the risk of them plopping against the floor. I’d take my chances barefoot.
I peered around the corner. Saw nothing. No one.
So I started down.
I moved slowly.
“Gabby! What are you doing?” Parker growled into the phone.
I ignored him.
I reached the first landing. I still saw no one. I crept down another flight of stairs and paused by the door leading to the first floor. There was one more level down, into the dungeon of the hospital, I supposed.
Had the man exited here? Or perhaps he worked down on the next floor. I weighed my options.
Then I turned to go down one more flight.
Before I realized what was happening, the door behind me flew open. I raised my hands, ready to fight.
Before I could, something zapped me.
A Taser, I realized.
My body stiffened. I lost control of my limbs until I fell on the floor. My body went rigid, yet I remained cognizant of everything going on.
“Gabby? Gabby, what just happened?” I heard Parker yelling on the phone.
I looked up. The man I’d been following sneered down at me.
It was Jones, I realized.
He was alive.
And I was about to die.
CHAPTER 21
I tried to think. I tried to remember everything that had happened through the haze of being tasered.
I lay on the cool cement floor, unable to move. Unable to scream. Unable to make my muscles do as I wanted. Instead, they twitched and stuttered and flinched.
Jones only smiled. “It’s your time, Gabby. I’m glad you accepted my challenge. I’ve always found you a worthy opponent.”
He pulled out an oversized bag and began dragging me until half of my body was enclosed. He kept working, kept tugging and pulling and rearranging until I was totally in the cloth sack. Then he pulled out some duct tape and smacked it over my mouth.
“Just in case you regain use of your lip muscles.”
With that, he heaved me on his shoulder, stepped out the door, and stuffed me into a linen cart.
Then slowly, without any hint of nervous anxiety, he began pushing the cart, whistling as he went.
Where were we? Which direction were we going? I had to pay attention to details. They could save my life.
Then I remembered Parker. I’d dropped my phone. But he’d known I was here at the hospital. He’d alerted security. There was no way Jones was getting out of this hospital.
“How are you today?” someone called.
“Couldn’t be better,” Jones responded, warmth saturating his voice.
Psycho.
That’s what the man was. He had no conscience.
I wished I could move. I wished I could kick or scream or climb my way out of this. Truth was, even if I hadn’t been tasered, it would be hard for me to maneuver out of this sack, out of this cart.
The material swallowed me. Wrapped around my legs. Pressed against my face. Made it hard to breath.
The cart bumped and jerked and jarred me. If it wasn’t for my body weight pressing downward, I wouldn’t know which way was up.
Jones began whistling again. What was that song?
My thoughts still felt muddled. My
body still rebelled from being tasered. Nothing felt right at the moment.
“Mr. Jones,” I realized. By Counting Crows.
Great. He wanted to be a rock star so everyone could love him. Wasn’t that what the song was about? And Jones was becoming a rock star to an entire army of sick, twisted individuals who glorified murder.
The cart hit another bump. Something squeaked. The air seemed to brighten around me, despite the dark bag.
He’d managed to get me outside, I realized.
A car squealed in the distance. Suddenly, someone jerked me from the cart. My knee hit the edge and pain jarred through me again.
I felt someone running, my body bouncing with each step. Heard him breathing heavy. Heard another voice. A male I didn’t recognize. Or did I?
Then my body hit something. A door slammed. Another door slammed.
And we were moving.
I’d been put into the trunk of a car and we were leaving the hospital, I realized.
I continued to try and pay attention. We turned left—probably onto the highway, if I was envisioning this correctly. I tried to keep track of everything. I tried to remember every turn and bump and noise.
I heard traffic. I felt juts in the road. I sensed the grates of a bridge beneath us.
The more we drove, the quieter it became outside.
Inside the car I heard no radio. I heard no talking.
Panic rose in me. I would never admit this, but I should have listened to Parker. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn and determined. Especially not now of all times.
I had to stick around. I had to make sure that Riley’s parents didn’t let Dr. Moreno subject Riley to his from-freezing-cold-to-nearly-electrocuted experiments. That was going to be hard to do, based on my present circumstances.
This wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all.
So I began praying. This is where it had all started with me and God. In my desperate moments, I’d cried out to Him. I’d made promises.
And now here I was again.
Full of doubts. But certain that the outcome of this was beyond my scope.
Finally, the car came to a halt. A moment later, the trunk was opened. Two hands grabbed me and jerked me out. I hit the ground.
To Love, Honor, and Perish Page 17
