All the Broken Places

by Anise Eden

  “Very funny,” I said dryly. “Maybe he does care about me. He could also just be a control freak.”

  Sid took the point of my chin between his fingers and tilted my head so that he could look at me more directly. “Either way, he’s only been in the picture for a week, and already you’re crying into my arms over him instead of riding me like a mechanical bull. If you try to tell me that’s not a sign that something serious is going on, I’m frankly going to be offended.”

  Sid wore an expression of hard-earned wisdom, like an ancient statue that had watched civilizations rise and fall. “I don’t think I like where you’re going with this,” I said.

  “Nor do I, my dear, nor do I.” He caressed my cheek. “But as a friend who cares an awful lot about you, I think you should give this Ben thing an opportunity to play out. You never know, a relationship with him might be able to give you all of the things that ours can’t—all of the wonderful things you deserve. And we both know you can’t really give him a fair chance if you’re spending every weekend with me in the garden of earthly delights.”

  I moaned. “Siiiiid…”

  “I know, I know. It’s tough,” he said in mock sympathy. “Just think, though. Some women go their whole lives without ever getting to sleep with me.”

  Self-pity threatened to drown me. I felt like I was losing my only friend. A round of tears threatened to break through. “I refuse to give you up, especially for him! He’s taken too much away from me already!”

  “Now, now,” Sid murmured, stroking my hair again. “No one said anything about giving anyone up. I know it’s twisted and scandalous, but we could actually be ‘just friends’—at least until this Ben character screws things up, which for my sake I certainly hope he will.”

  That did it. The tears started to fall. I rolled over and wrapped my arms around his waist. “But what if nothing happens with Ben?” I found that I was barely able to speak the words. “Or what if something does happen, but then he breaks my heart?”

  “Then you’ll call me, and I’ll call the office and tell them I’ve contracted a horrible, highly contagious illness, and I’ll come over and spend as much time with you as it takes to pick up all of the pieces. Very slowly. With massage oil.”

  A bittersweet ache settled into my chest. Sid and I, just friends. I tried to imagine it. Certainly, it would be strange at first. But we had grown so comfortable with each other, we cared about each other, and in many ways we probably did know each other better than anyone else. “So I can still call you,” I said tentatively. “Just to talk.”

  He smiled and nodded. “You can call me anytime, day or night. And now that I know you’re at the epicenter of so much drama, I’ll be checking in on you a lot more frequently.”

  I considered. “And we can still see each other.”

  “Of course, although I think we should hold off for a little while. Give you a chance to explore things with Ben without any distractions.”

  A gentle certainty settled upon me—I could trust Sid not to abandon me. “Okay. If you insist, I’ll give it a try.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  He leaned down and kissed my forehead, inspiring instant melancholy. “Sid,” I whispered, “I’m going to miss this so much I don’t think I can stand it.”

  “I’ll miss it too, babe.” He ran his finger along my jaw line. “I’ll tell you what. You look exhausted. Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll hold you on the bed until you fall asleep. I know how you like that.”

  “Okay,” I nodded, touched by his gesture. Even though I knew he’d refuse, for old times’ sake, I asked, “Can you hold me on the bed…naked?”

  He sighed heavily as he helped me up off the couch. “And that is why they say, ‘Never volunteer for anything.’”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It hadn’t taken long for me to drift off into a blank sleep. Sid was gone by the time I rose into wakefulness. Judging from the darkness of the sky and the slant of the shadows from the streetlights, I guessed it was approximately seven p.m.

  As my brain slowly creaked into gear, I remembered what had happened earlier in the day. Piece by piece, the whole week started to snap into place, and my mind was wrenched out of its peaceful state and cast back into the fray. At that moment, every cell in my body longed painfully to be somewhere else, living someone else’s life. I tried to satisfy the longing by doing a little empath surfing. I lay flat on the bed and closed my eyes against the night, feeling around for portals that were still open—not Ben’s, of course. Maybe Sid’s, or Simone’s.

  The moment I turned inward, though, I felt something coming at me like a tornado. It was off in the distance but closing rapidly. Within seconds, a wall of fear slammed into my chest, knocking the breath out of me. It was burning hot and icy cold at the same time, and painful with urgency.

  My eyes flew open and I shot up in bed. I looked around and listened. I heard no sounds and saw nothing obvious to be afraid of.

  I crept downstairs and checked the door and windows. I peered through the blinds on the front window and saw my car parked out front. Nothing was out of the ordinary. But the terror did not abate.

  It occurred to me that it might not be my own fear that I was feeling. It might be coming to me through a portal—which meant that someone close to me was afraid. I turned my attention inward again. I held the terror in my heart and asked, Whose emotion is this?

  One word surfaced softly in my mind: Elana.

  What was wrong with Elana? I tried to concentrate, tried to think, but the fear I was receiving was so overwhelming that I couldn’t tease out any useful information.

  What if they’d let Don out of jail for some reason? What if he was with her at the hospital? Or what if she had gone home? What if he was hurting her?

  I ran to the coffee table and pulled my laptop out of the drawer. Unless Dr. Nelson had disabled my login for some reason, I knew I should still be able to get into our database and see if there were any updates on her case. I knew I wasn’t allowed to log onto the clinic server while I was technically on leave, but I didn’t care. This was an emergency.

  As the laptop started up, I tried to figure out what to do next. I couldn’t call the police. What was I going to tell them? That I had a psychic impression that my client was in danger?

  And I couldn’t call Dr. Nelson. Given how close he was to the MacGregors, he might actually believe me about the psychic impression thing. But given what a stickler he was for procedure, I knew he wouldn’t do anything about it. If Elana were still in the hospital, he would say it was the hospital’s responsibility to keep her safe. If she had been released, he would say it was Elana’s responsibility to call someone for help if she needed it. In any case, he would probably insist that I was worrying over nothing since Don was in police custody.

  I couldn’t call Washington Hill. They wouldn’t give me any information about Elana without confirming who I was, and everything I told them would be documented in their records. I couldn’t risk Dr. Nelson finding out that I was snooping on my clients.

  Workable options were shrinking. I thought about calling Simone, but I knew that if I did, she would have to call Dr. Nelson, which would only create the same problems. If I asked her to keep my call a secret, I would basically be asking her to choose between me and her professional ethics, and I would never ask her to do that.

  The very last thing I wanted to do was ask Ben for help with anything, but at least he would take me seriously if I told him that Elana was in trouble. I just couldn’t be sure what he would do about it. After all, he had apparently become obsessive about my safety, and I knew that he wanted me to keep my distance from my clients for the moment—Elana in particular, after the Reiki/heart attack incident. Plus, Pete might have already told Ben that Sid was at my house, which would likely put him in an even less cooperative mood. So while it was possible that Ben would help me, it was equally likely that he would try to stop me from intervening—possibly by handcuffing me a
nd tossing me in the church basement. That was a risk I couldn’t take.

  I would just have to put everyone else out of my mind and focus on Elana. I managed to get into the clinic server and open her file. No one had entered any updates on her case since she went into the hospital. If I called her and there was no answer, it might mean she was still at Washington Hill. I jotted down her phone numbers—and address, just in case.

  Her landline had been temporarily disconnected. I tried her cell. After a few rings, her voicemail picked up with the tinny chorus of a pop song. Then Elana’s voice came on, sounding tired. “Hi, I’m home from the hospital. Leave a message, and I’ll call you back when I get some minutes on my phone. Bye.”

  Oh, hell. She was out of the hospital, she was terrified, and she wasn’t picking up her phone. If by some chance Don had been released from jail, what if he’d taken her phone away from her? It wouldn’t be the first time; it was one of the control tactics he used. Then Elana would have no way to call for help.

  Stop it, I told myself, you’re getting yourself worked up over nothing. Don is in jail. To prove it to myself, I decided to check the police database. As a supervisor, Simone had access, and she had given me her username and password. I logged in and searched for Don’s name. To my horror, I discovered that in spite of the reassurances we’d been given that he would remain locked up “for weeks,” Don had been released the previous day. No explanation was noted.

  Well, that settled it. Elana could be in danger. There were no options left, and the longer I waited…I would have to do something on my own, without anybody’s help. I just didn’t know what.

  I took a deep breath and tried to think rationally. In terms of violating clinic policy, taking Elana’s personal information off of the server while I was out on leave was bad enough. Checking the police database was even worse. But if I actually went over to her house, especially uninvited, and Dr. Nelson found out, he might fire me on the spot, giving me no chance to even say goodbye to my clients. The thought made my anxiety spike.

  It’s okay, I told myself, no one ever has to know you were there. I could just stay out of sight and try to look in on her from outside her apartment. If she was in trouble, I could make an anonymous 911 call. At least then I’d have some concrete information to give the police—something more than a psychic impression.

  The drive-by plan seemed reasonably workable, and it was the only one I had. I dressed quickly and as nondescriptly as possible: jeans, sweatshirt, sneakers, hair in a ponytail.

  As I checked to make sure that my cell phone was charged, the thought occurred to me: You know this could be dangerous. But I also knew it didn’t matter. If something happened to Elana, I would never be able to forgive myself.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was nearly eight o’clock when I reached Elana’s address. She lived in a maze of low-rise apartment buildings on a sketchy block near Dr. Nelson’s clinic. I sat in my car, spying on her and trying to decide my next move.

  Elana was alone in her apartment. I could see her through the window, milling around in her kitchen. I wondered for a moment why I was able to feel her emotions so strongly. Then I remembered—I had opened a portal to her when I used the Distance Healing technique. Everyone had said that the portal would only stay open as long as I was sending her Reiki energy. But maybe it hadn’t closed after all, or not fully. Ben had mentioned that I was reacting in unexpected ways to a lot of the exercises we’d been doing. Maybe this was just another example.

  It looked like Elana was preparing dinner and setting the table…for two. Through the portal, I felt that her terror had become mixed with frenzied anticipation. I couldn’t be sure who she was expecting, but I was willing to put down money that it was Don. At least I’d beat him to her apartment. But as I sat and thought things through, I began to see the holes in my plan.

  Option one was to wait until Don showed up, then call the police if he did anything suspicious. But if he was determined to hurt Elana, it might be too late for her by the time the police arrived. Even if I ran up to the apartment the minute I saw him do something suspicious, what would I do once I got there? Don had already threatened to kill me if I got anywhere near Elana, so I could be in just as much danger as she was. It wasn’t like I had the means to defend either of us.

  Option two: I could go up to her apartment and try to talk her into leaving with me. I could tell her…what? That Simone had told me she’d been in the hospital, and I was worried about her? It would be weird, certainly, but at least being there in person, I could gauge her reaction. If she were really scared of Don, maybe I could talk her into going to a women’s shelter. I’d take her there myself. By the time Don arrived, we would both be safely away.

  Option two seemed imperfect, but better. Elana could always refuse to go with me, but there was at least a chance she would listen. If not, I could return to the car and go back to option one.

  Worst-case scenario: I would get into the apartment and Don would arrive while I was talking to Elana—and the longer I sat there trying to decide what to do, the higher the chances were of that happening. I said a silent prayer and got out of the car.

  • • •

  Here goes nothing, I thought as I knocked on the door. In a matter of seconds, Elana opened it. Her already large eyes widened. “Cate?”

  “Hi, Elana!” I was surprised by how relieved I was to see her. I had to fight the impulse to reach out and hug her.

  She held her hand out as if to touch my shoulder, but quickly pulled it back. “Are you here for real?”

  “What?” I asked, then realized that she might have thought she was having another vision of me like the one she’d had in the hospital. I decided the less said about that, the better. “Yeah,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “Can I come in?”

  She poked her head out, looked left and right, and then opened the door. “Sure, I guess,” she said, looking as though she was trying to figure out what the heck was going on.

  As we entered her living room, I could see that Elana’s hair and make-up were carefully done. She was wearing tight jeans with rhinestones glued to the back pockets, a form-fitting yellow tank top, and a delicate gold necklace with a letter “D” charm hanging from it. The room was brightly lit, with a yellow rug that matched the walls and furniture made of white leather and chrome.

  “I’m sorry to bother you so late,” I said. “Simone told me that you had discharged from Washington Hill. I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d see how you were doing.” I hoped that sounded legitimate.

  Elana closed and locked the door behind me, looking confused. “You were in the neighborhood? This neighborhood?”

  I did my best to sound casual. “Yeah, so I thought I’d check in. I’m going to be away from work for another couple of weeks, but then I’ll be back. I didn’t know if you’d heard.”

  “They told me you were at some kind of conference. I’ve been seeing Simone once a week.”

  “Oh good,” I said as brightly as I could. “Simone is great. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “Yeah, I’m okay.” She nervously played with her “D” charm. “I wasn’t for a while, but I’m doing better now. They put me on some new medication.”

  “I’m so glad to hear you’re feeling better.” I plucked up the courage to be even more intrusive. “Elana, pardon me for asking, but is everything okay here tonight?”

  “Yeah, everything is fine. In fact, I’m having someone over for dinner. To be honest, I don’t think you should be here when he gets here.”

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  “Don’s coming over.” She smiled shyly. “You know how it is.”

  I deduced that Elana didn’t know about Don’s little visit to my house. “So everything is okay between you guys?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine.” She walked toward the front door. “Listen, I, um, appreciate your coming by, but I think you should go now. Don is going to be here any minute, and he
kind of doesn’t want me to be talking to you.”

  “Really? Why not?” I tried to sound innocent.

  “Please,” she said with growing agitation, “we can talk about it later. But I really need you to leave now. I have to finish making dinner.” She reached for the door handle.

  I reached through the portal again and felt terror rolling off of her in waves. I had to do something before she kicked me out. I blurted, “Elana, are you afraid of Don?”

  “Afraid? Of Don?” She looked genuinely surprised and gave a derisive snort.

  My eyes widened. Don being who he was, I hadn’t expected my question to be met with such nonchalance. “I only ask because you seem a little nervous tonight.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” she said, her smile touched with a hint of mania. “If anybody should be afraid of anybody, Don should be afraid of me.”

  “Why should Don be afraid of you?”

  “Look, Cate.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you really need to get out of here. Some of Don’s…friends are on their way over. The police picked Don up for something last week, but they let him out so quickly that his friends think he must have snitched in jail. They called and asked me to help them find him, so I said I would. I mean, after all, he cheated on me. Can you believe that? That’s why I ended up in the hospital,” she said through gritted teeth. “I told his friends that I’d have Don over for dinner tonight so they could come over and set him straight.”

  “Set him straight?” God knew she had every right to be angry with Don. But I also knew that if anything happened to him because of her, she would never forgive herself, and that would probably send her on another downward spiral. Not to mention the fact that she could be putting herself in harm’s way.