by Tess Oliver
Professor North was sliding his phone into his pocket as he walked back into the waiting room. Some of the color had returned to his face.
“Was it the police?” Dalton asked.
“No, why?” He seemed almost angry at Dalton’s question even though it had been perfectly reasonable.
“Because a man with a gun is wandering around the woods shooting people, and we were the only witnesses,” Dalton answered with equal anger.
He shook his head. “It wasn’t the police.” Professor North sat several chairs away as if he was a stranger or perhaps just a man who didn’t want to field prying questions from his son.
But a span of a few chairs was not going to deter Dalton. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. “Yeah, why would they call the one eyewitness who didn’t see the strange man running across his property with a gun?”
Professor North scrubbed his face with his hands, and it seemed to revive him some. And now the heat of rage radiated around him. “Damn it, Dalton, what do you want from me? You disappear for months at a time and then you show up all of a sudden with no call or message.”
It seemed that the professor had not really intended to hurt Dalton with the comment, but it had obviously stung, and badly. Dalton slumped back against the chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him, squeezing his thigh on the bad leg as if pinching it would help lessen the pain. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I needed fucking permission to come home. There was a time when I was welcome.”
“No, Dalton, I didn’t mean that. You’re always welcome.” Professor North got up and sat in the chair directly across from Dalton. “I’m just so distraught about Ethan I’m not thinking straight. I was the same when I heard you got hurt in Iraq. I was beside myself with grief. I love you both so much, and I could not survive losing either of you.”
“Then why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on?”
“There’s nothing going on, Dalton. I have no idea who the shooter was. There are a lot of crazy people out there.”
A doctor walked into the room and we pushed to our feet. My heart was pounding.
“Mr. North?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Doctor Mc Grath. We have Ethan stabilized. He’s lost a lot of blood, but the bullet didn’t hit any important organ. We will be taking him into surgery tonight to remove the bullet. It is lodged in his back.”
Professor North nodded weakly. “Is there a chance his spinal cord was injured?”
“We see no damage to the spine or spinal cord. But I must tell you, at this point in time, he is far from being out of danger. We will monitor him closely, of course, and we’ll let you know if there is any change.”
“Can we see him?” Dalton asked.
“He is resting at the moment, but the nurse will let you know when you can see him.”
“Please do,” Professor North said.
The doctor looked at Dalton and me. “You might want to clean up. There’s a restroom around the corner.” He left the room.
Professor North sat down. He glanced around the room. “This room hasn’t changed much since—” He dropped his face into his hands. “My god, I miss her so much.”
Dalton closed his eyes for a second, but he didn’t offer a comforting pat or hug to his dad. He swayed some on his sore leg, and I took hold of his arm. He opened his eyes and looked at me with a mixture of despair, pain and confusion. I reached up and tucked a long strand of hair behind his ear. His eyes drifted shut again as my finger touched his face. Then I reached down and took hold of his hand. Blood had dried across his knuckles and wrist. Without a word, I led him out of the waiting room and around the corner to the bathroom.
I opened the door and turned on the light, and like a sleepy child being led to the bathroom in the middle of the night, Dalton stumbled in as if half drowsy.
He walked forward and stood in front of the mirror. Dried blood was smeared across his chin and his dark green shirt was nearly black and stiff with his brother’s blood. I stepped up behind him and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Even in complete anguish, he stole my breath.
I leaned forward and washed my hands and then pulled his underneath the stream of water. Then I reached up and pulled some paper towels out of the dispenser.
“It should have been me.” I hardly recognized his voice. “It should have been me and then I couldn’t even fucking save him.”
“Dalton, what are you saying? Ethan just happened to be in the wrong place. There was nothing you could have done to stop—”
He dropped his face and shook his head. “I was supposed to be in the lead vehicle. They asked me to ride in the front truck, but the driver was this guy who I hated being around. He was an arrogant asshole. Bryce took my spot so I wouldn’t have to put up with him.” He laughed quietly. “He was worried I might end up being court-martialed for hitting the guy. I was supposed to be up there. Not Bryce.” He gripped the sink hard. “And there was nothing I could do.”
My mind dashed around in frantic circles trying to come up with the right thing to say, words that would provide comfort, but there were none. I touched his arm. “I wish I could say something, anything that would help but those words have to come from inside your own head. And they will someday.”
He lifted his face. I turned on the water and soaked the paper towel. I squeezed between him and the sink and I pressed the wet towel to his chin. He watched me through heavy lids as I cleaned the dried blood from his face. I rubbed the blood from his neck and then looked down at his shirt and smiled faintly. “There just aren’t enough paper towels in the world. I’m afraid this shirt is history.”
“Yours doesn’t look much better.” He looked at me. His green eyes were dark with the horrors of the day. And then he reached out and pulled me into his arms.
Chapter 16
Only next of kin was allowed into Ethan’s room, and I was almost relieved. I dreaded seeing him in a hospital bed with tubes and machines surrounding him. It had been three hours since the shooting, and the doctors were feeling much more optimistic as they prepped him for surgery. The good news seemed to revive Dalton, and for the time being, he appeared to have left behind some of the grim thoughts that had haunted him earlier in the day.
Dalton and Professor North had stayed behind to be briefed by Dr. Mc Grath, and I headed down to the cafeteria for some coffees. For being in a small town, the hospital was amazingly busy, and I had to wait in a long line. The two women in front of me were talking cheerily until they turned around and took note of my sweater. They scooted as far forward as they could, and I really couldn’t blame them.
Even the woman behind the counter could not contain her look of surprise when I stepped up to order. “You must have come in with the gunshot victim,” she said. “Scary thought having some gun-wielding lunatic running around, and just before the holiday.”
“Three coffees please.” Apparently feeling extra sorry for me, she was nice enough to give me a box for the three cups.
I walked over to the condiment stand and filled it with cream and sugar packages.
“August.” I hadn’t heard anyone approach and I jumped when Professor North’s voice came over my shoulder. I hadn’t heard him use my proper name for a long time, and the look on his face made my heart jump.
“Is everything all right?”
He made an effort to push away the serious expression, but the one that replaced it was so forced it was almost creepy. “Everything is fine. They are taking Ethan into surgery as we speak. The nurse gave Dalton an ice pack, and he went somewhere to put up his leg. It was quite swollen.” He paused for a long, dramatic moment and then pushed the words out. “I wonder if I might ask you a favor.”
“Of course, Professor, anything.”
“You may have noticed a small f
ile cabinet in the office at home.”
“Yes, in the corner by the bookshelves.”
“I’m afraid in the frantic moments following the shooting, I completely forgot to get our health insurance paperwork. The woman in admissions needs it to complete Ethan’s forms. It’s in the first folder and it is clearly marked health insurance. I would go myself but—”
“No, of course, you need to stay here. I don’t mind.” The thought of going back to the house alone was somewhat terrifying, but I could certainly do this small task. I would race inside, grab the folder and race back out. I removed my coffee and handed the box to him. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”
His face grew a shade paler, and for a moment, it seemed he might tell me to forget it.
I placed a hand on his arm. “I will be fast and cautious. I would really like to get changed out of this sweater. And I’ll bring a change of clothes for Dalton. We don’t want to scare Ethan when he comes out of the anesthesia.” I flashed him my most reassuring smile.
He nodded hesitantly. “The side door is always unlocked.” He dropped his gaze. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but we’re a bit careless about that.”
“No problem. You should get some rest, Professor. I don’t mean this as an insult, but you look terrible.”
“I will. And thank you, Auggie.”
I headed down the hall and stepped into the elevator. The entire nightmarish scene replayed in my head, but I convinced myself that the shooter was long gone and there was no danger in returning to the house for a few minutes. Certainly, the professor would not have sent me if he thought it was unsafe.
I sipped the hot coffee and walked down the long corridor to the exit.
“Auggie?”
I turned around. Dalton was standing in the center of the hallway.
“Your dad has your coffee. I’ll be right back. He needs some health insurance paperwork from the house, and I’ll get you a new shirt.”
He walked toward me with alarming speed. “You can’t go back there alone. Where the hell is my dad? He’s lost his damn mind.”
“I’ll be fine, Dalton. I’ll park close to the house and then I’ll just dash in and get the papers and shirt. And then I’ll dodge and weave back to the car.” I shifted from side to side to show him that I was quite capable of a dodge and weave maneuver.
“As adorable as you look with that, Auggie, there is still no way in hell you’re going back there alone. I’ll come with you.”
We headed to the exit and I handed him my coffee. “Aren’t you going to let your dad know you’re leaving?”
He shook his head. “I think it’s better if I don’t talk to him right this second.”
“Probably a good idea. Remember he’s gone through a lot today.”
“No, Ethan has gone through a lot. Not Dad. There just isn’t any excuse for him today.”
We got into the car. The rusty colors of dusk were fading to night as we pulled out onto the road. Snowplows had already cleared the light layer of snow that’d fallen earlier in the day. Along the road, houses hidden deep in the snowy woods sparkled with Christmas lights and streams of blue smoke swirled up from chimneys. People were inside enjoying cozy meals, baking cookies and decorating trees. Simple pleasures I’d yearned for and if my mom hadn’t shunned the prospect of a quaint, homey Christmas, I would have been safe at home with my family. I looked over at the man sitting next to me and realized I also would have never met Dalton. It seemed I’d given up one dream for another.
“To be honest,” I said, “I’m glad you came along. I was a little nervous about going there alone.”
“Then why did you agree to go?”
“I don’t know. Your dad just looked so distraught, and I was glad to be able to do something to help.”
He looked over at me. “Help? Maybe you forgot the twenty minutes you leaned over Ethan keeping pressure on his wound. You saved his life, Auggie.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m glad I was there to help.”
“Especially because my dad was about as helpful as a piece of wood. I still can’t believe that he didn’t see the guy. He was the first person at the scene. How could he not have seen him?”
“His son was lying in a pool of blood in the snow— that’s how.”
He shook his head. “Such loyalty. You just won’t stop making excuses for him.”
“What can I say? There just aren’t that many cool professors at the university. Besides, I may not be a parent, but it had to be horrible for him. You need to give him a break.”
Dalton sighed and took another sip of coffee. “My leg hurts like hell.”
“I’m sorry. But you were moving pretty well in the snow after the shooting.”
He shook his head. “Yeah, for a second out there I forgot about the leg and remembered what it was like to be whole again.”
“I think it showed that with a little work and determination,” I glanced over at him, “and a little less self-pity, that leg could heal faster.”
He glanced over at me and lifted his brow. “Self-pity? I was actually using that line to earn a little sympathy sex.”
“I think you’ll find that I can be quite charitable when I put my mind to it. It might be arranged a little later when things have settled down.”
Chapter 17
We both fell silent as I turned the car up the road that led to the house. The surreal horror of it all was still fresh in our minds. Even in the dark, the blood-stained patch of snow made the landscape look like a contrived setting in a horror movie.
Dalton leaned forward and wiped some of the condensation off the inside of the windshield. He scanned the area, but the new evening had brought a layer of darkness that would give a cloak of invisibility to any predator lying in wait.
I looked up into the rearview mirror. The rear window of my car was nearly opaque with frost. “From what I’ve always seen on police shows, the criminal rarely returns to the scene.” But somehow that little piece of knowledge did little to ease my fear. I parked the car as close as possible without actually driving up the front porch steps and pulling into the entryway.
We were both tightly wound enough that the sound of Dalton’s phone made us jump. He pulled it out of his pocket, and the disgusted look on his face told me it was his dad. “Everything all right, Dad?”
I could hear Professor North’s deep voice but couldn’t make out the words. The tone coming through the phone sounded sharp and anxious.
“That’s because I left the hospital. You sent August by herself back to the house? Have you lost your fucking mind?”
The professor’s voice grew louder and harsher, but it was still too muffled to make out what he was saying.
Dalton lifted the phone slightly off his ear, and his forehead creased in total confusion. “Yes, I went with her. There was no way I was going to let her go alone. I can’t believe—”
His dad seemed to be yelling into the phone.
“It’s too late to turn around. We’re already home. We’ll be back soon.”
As unintelligible as the voice coming through the phone was, the rage could not be missed.
Dalton hung up on him and stared at his phone. Then he looked up at me. “So, when is it all right to stop cutting him some slack because it seems he has definitely lost his goddamned mind.”
“Maybe he just didn’t want to be alone at the hospital.”
He raised his brow at me.
“You’re right. Sorry.”
The phone rang again. Dalton glanced at the screen and then tossed the phone into the backseat. It rang urgently and then went to voicemail. Dalton peered out the windows of the car. “You ready with that dodge and weave pattern because I was kind of looking forward to watching it from behind.”
I smiled
. “All hail, my great and heroic protector.”
He motioned with his head. “Let’s go.”
“Your dad said the side door was unlocked.”
“Obviously that’s a stupid habit that will have to end. That’s how I got in the night I climbed into bed with you. You and your very sexy flannel pajamas.” He reached into his pocket. “Since you nearly parked in the entryway, I think we might as well go in the front door. It’s the closest and I have a key.” His phone rang again and he ignored it. “I’m going to take a quick shower while you change and get the paperwork. Ethan’s blood soaked all the way through.”
We opened our car doors. I hopped out and dashed for the steps. Dalton followed as quickly as he was capable of with a swollen leg, and we shut the door behind us.
The last moments of hysteria seemed to linger in the empty house. An event like today would scar the cozy, charming home forever and that thought saddened me.
Dalton limped to the kitchen and emerged with a box of cookies. He held out the box but I shook my head. “No appetite yet. I’m going to change and get the paperwork. You should hurry in and shower or your dad really will have a stroke. Besides, you should be at the hospital.”
He shoved a handful of cookies into his mouth, put the box on the counter and headed to his bedroom.
I went in to wash up and change. The office door was ajar and I glanced inside as I walked by it. A small stack of boxes remained, and it was hard to know if would finish them or not. Professor North would now be occupied at the hospital, and it was entirely possible that he would tell me to leave the project for now. I stared at my reflection. I looked nearly as bad as the professor with my pale cheeks and eyes that were still swollen from tears. I removed my sweater. It wasn’t nearly as bad off as Dalton’s shirt, but it wasn’t salvageable, which worked out. It would be a far too grim reminder of this day.
I washed my face and arms. In junior high and high school we’d always been told never to touch another person’s blood. And yet when I saw someone in grave danger of losing his life from blood loss it was impossible to stop myself from helping. I pulled on a new sweater and brushed my hair. Dalton’s shower turned on, and briefly, I blushed at the thought of our first encounter under the water.
