Doc whimpered and nosed under an arm. I cried out, and hugged the pup close, letting his fur absorb the tears.
I woke wrapped around a softly snoring pup, wincing at the raging headache. I untangled myself, and stood, noting the panic receded. I stumbled into the bedroom, finding day turned to night. I cleaned up in the bathroom, brushing my teeth and splashing cold water on my face. The clock next to the bed said it was close to midnight.
I slipped downstairs, into the new kitchen. My appetite woke with a roar, and I rummaged around the fridge and cabinets. Nothing looked good.
Straightening my clothes, I went in search of Maria. I found her in the living room, the TV turned low, watching reruns of The Big Bang Theory. She saw me, turned off the tube, and stood.
“Where would you like to go? I’m guessing you’re hungry.” She looked me over, and nodded once.
“Let’s go to Perkin’s, if they’re still open.”
“Nope closed. But there is that tiny place off College that’s open twenty-four, seven.”
I grabbed a windbreaker, nodding.
We ate a silent dinner, and as we left I turned to her. “You’re not going to ask, are you?”
She led the way to the Jeep, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “No. I saw a lot of horrors in the first Iraqi war, then Sarajevo. I did things to survive, I just don’t have the same scars as you. I know what you are going through, and I learned something.” She opened the door and jumped in, waiting. Once my door was closed, and we were blanketed in the soft darkness, she continued, “You can’t force someone to heal. They have to decide when to let it scar over, whether you are human or a horse.” She pushed the button, and the engine roared to life.
I looked out the window, the moon full and fat in the sky, the mountains and the valley lit with the silvery light. I wanted to go for a midnight ride. I used to take Ringing out during nights like this, letting her run where she wanted, as I sat on her back, feeling powerful, at one with the mare, loving the rush of wind on my face.
We reached the ranch and I stood in the drive. I walked around the house to the new stables. Built with top of the line materials, each stall large and airy. It’d been too big, with fifty stalls, a new entrance into the bunker, a huge stable office, attached to a warmed and cooled covered arena big enough for a horse show.
It felt empty, my soft footsteps echoing. I stopped in front of Fire’s Fuel and gave a soft whistle. The mare was a raw boned AQHA bay mare, her bloodline impeccable. I grabbed her halter off the peg next to the door, opened the stall and slipped inside. Once haltered, I led her to the saddling area, grabbing a snaffle bit and simple headstall. I tied her to the tethers from either side of the hall, and grabbed an English saddle. Once she was tacked, I unclipped the tethers and led her to a set of steps to help get in the saddle. I fiddled a little until everything felt right.
I nudged her sides, and she sidestepped a little, snorting. “I know, it’s been a few years, but let’s go for a run.” I nudged her again, getting a better grip on the reins.
I walked her through the gate, shutting and locking it behind us. Ahead laid sixty acres of open terrain, meticulously gone over for holes, boulders, anything that would harm a horse. I pushed Fire into a fast walk, letting her warm up. An acre later, I posted as she trotted another acre. I finally settled deep into the seat, grabbed the reins, and hissed as I pushed her forward.
Fire’s Fuel took off in a controlled bolt. She shot past the first acre, settled into a good gallop, and I let her have her head.
The cold, fall wind slid over my body, pushing curls out of my face. I leaned forward over her neck, and she understood, giving me another gear. The land rushed by, the rocking of her gallop easy. I balanced in the saddle, my heart keeping tempo with her hoofbeats.
I smiled at the rush. I knew she had one more gear, but it had been a long time since she’d been on an exercise plan and didn’t want to cause problems. She ignored me, and lengthened out, falling closer to the ground, legs eating the ground. I laughed.
I could feel her starting to lag and pulled on the reins. She slowed to an easy lope. I turned around, bringing her to a fast walk. She was breathing hard, tossing her head. For Fire, it was a clear signal she liked the run. Bred from a long line of racing Quarter horses, I wasn’t surprised.
Back at the stables, I washed and groomed her, making sure no sweat remained, and bedded her down for the night.
Smelling of horse sweat, dirt, soap, and stable, I smiled the entire way to my room. I took a shower, and dressed in a pair of Goofy boxers with matching t-shirt.
For the first time in almost six months, the nightmares didn’t visit.
Chapter Thirty One
I wasn’t due at Dr. Griggs’s office until three in the afternoon. Maria and I left early in the morning for my visit with Aiden.
Sitting in front of him, hand on the glass partition, “I was told it was an episode.”
“Keep going, Karen. And to ease your mind, Gage was found dead among the others. All that’s left is finding someone to take the fall for it.” He sat back, “I’m the only one left.”
I shook my head, not wanting it to be true. While Maria and I were bonding very slowly, and Brent was rarely seen, I needed Aiden. He was my rock in the tornado of my psyche. “There has to be a way, Aiden.”
“Karen, look at me.” I met his stare. “You have to do this yourself. I’ll always be there for you, but nobody is going to glue you back together, that is something you have to do.”
“I’m not strong enough,” I looked around the room, going over every inch of the room, waiting for … something.
“You lived, Karen. Most would have pulled the trigger. Go home, take a good long look in the mirror. Expect the episodes, talk to this Dr. Griggs. Learn how to handle them.” The warning bell went off. I jumped, though I knew it was coming. “It’s okay, damn it. Will you learn that?” He sounded angry.
I frowned at him, trying to understand why he was mad.
“Don’t make me wonder if you are going to pull the trigger. Promise me, Karen. Promise that I’ll at least have a pen pal in here.” He put his hand on the glass again.
I put my hand to his, “I’ll try. Maybe I shouldn’t, I’m too dependent on you as it is.”
Aiden stood, his face a mask of rage. “You selfish … I like you coming to me. I love that you are my best friend. You are my rock, did you ever think of that? That you make me feel needed?”
The last bell.
“I’m sorry. I’ll try.” I hung up the phone.
Maria never said a word about the choice of music. My latest favorite Indie band, September Sky, blared through the twelve speakers, rattling the window to the song, The Fight. I played it over and over, hoping something would stick.
Aiden had a point. I was suicidal. The nightmares kept me up, memories overlapped reality during the day. Planes made me duck and look for cover. The sight of a steak knife sent me looking for a way out as I fought tears. The sound of a key in the lock would send me into a closet, rocking in a tight ball, crying.
Sitting in Dr. Griggs’s office, I wasn’t comfortable. She was probing for more information.
“You visit Aiden Middleston, is that right?” She’d taken a relaxed position in the recliner.
I jumped up, checking the locks on the doors. “I visit him twice a week.” I stopped short of standing in the sunlight shining in the window, wanting to stand and look over Laramie, but afraid of snipers. The irrational fear held me frozen, just outside of the light.
“Despite his being charged with treason, a part in your kidnapping, and a conspirator?” her voice neutral.
“I’ve seen the evidence. They’re not going to like me on the stand, because some of the official reports are made up. He was with me the whole time. What does this have to do with anything?” I turned.
“What if they are correct and yet another person has betrayed you?” The recliner swung around and she faced me.
&nbs
p; I stood shocked, trying to think of any reason it would be true. “No, he was literally with me every step.”
“Could you be sure if you were sleeping?”
“Are you trying to force a break? I rarely slept, and when I did, it was never for longer than an hour at a time. And he was personally chosen by Chuck, meaning he’d gained the trust. Plus he was there, in Iraq.” Anger spilled into my voice.
“I see.” She watched me, eyes unwavering. “Evidence says he was a mole.”
“Take it back! He’d never do that to me!” I clenched my fists, fingernails digging into the skin. Small droplets of blood pooled on the carpeted floor.
“Tell me about what happened when you were taken from your home.”
“Fuck off! That was Jake and Johnny!” I took a step forward.
“Are you certain? According to your words, there were at least five people in the house the night you were taken.”
My mind rushed backwards, to the moment I heard the change in the normal household noises. I shook my head, and whispered, “No, it wasn’t him. No. He didn’t even know where I lived.”
She stood, walking to stand in the sunlight, facing me. “Are you sure? His fingerprints were found at the scene.”
“Why are you doing this? What is the point?” My breathing was getting out of control.
“I need you to accept what is happening to you. The trial is coming up, Rupert has a good case of being railroaded, and Aiden is looking fairly guilty. You are the key.”
“Rupert might get out? How can that be? I watched him slit Beth’s throat, watched her die while he looked on, smiling. There is no way he can get out of this.”
“He will if you can’t remember everything properly.”
“You’ve been giving me scenarios, not helping me find the truth, or learn to handle the episodes.” I watched her body language change. “You thought I was naïve enough to let you lead me to memories, didn’t you?” I stalked her, moving on the balls of my feet, falling a little further into my thighs, one foot over another. Without conscious thought, I checked my waist for a weapon. “No wonder the judge ordered me to you.”
“You are seeing conspiracies where there are none. All of it is in the reports, some of which you wrote.” She backpedaled, moving away.
I laughed. “These sessions are over.” I unlocked the door and left, taking the stairs to the bottom floor.
In the Jeep, I grabbed my purse, pulled out a shiny new smartphone, and looked for a certain number. Once I found it, I tapped the green button. Four rings later, I heard a feminine voice on the other end.
“Vice President’s office, how may I help you?”
“This is Captain Karen Barnes.”
“Just one moment, I’ll connect you immediately.”
Two whisper soft clicks, and he picked up the phone. “Karrie-girl. Why are you calling me?”
“I’m sorry, Uncle, I tried to keep my distance, I really did. Just as you asked. But enough is enough.”
Chapter Thirty Two
I sat at the kitchen table, refusing to answer the phone ringing off the hook. I was grateful to be on private property with No Trespassing signs posted every ten feet. The media were having a free for all, and I wanted nothing to do with it. Helicopters passed overhead, and I’d put all the horses in the covered arena, out of range of their constantly circling cameras.
“It’ll pass soon, won’t it?” I glanced at a rather disgruntled Brent.
“You called the Vice President of the United States, your uncle, to put his hand in the middle of the mess. What do you think?” He glared at me.
I shrugged. The therapist situation had been the final straw. I could barely leave the confines of my property without an anxiety attack, the clawing panic leaving me helpless. I was left with Aiden, Maria, and Brent. Aiden was being picked up and dropped off here. The charges dropped against him, and all the made up evidence mysteriously found their way into the hands of the media. Along with the story of our ordeal, and how the German government had been the victim in a long standing cover up by a certain Senator Michael Wheeling out of Texas.
“Why are you so pissed at me?” I gave him the hairy eyeball. I was getting damned tired of the attitude.
“I’m angry with you because it seems to be some game in your head to not take care of yourself. Doing everything not to heal. Because you are taking your father’s legacy and throwing it away. Because you waited until the last minute to call your uncle, who could’ve ended all this months ago!” He stood, leaning forward, and smacking his hands hard against the table.
I rose to meet him, finding that if I couldn’t live in the static foam, anger was just as good. “What legacy? Government conspiracies, espionage, sheer ignorance?” I leaned forward. “He left me in a mess and sure as hell isn’t here to clean it up! As for my uncle, he asked me to keep him out of it months ago. He didn’t need the press on his ass, and there wasn’t much he could do until they had more evidence.”
“Enough, both of you!” Maria stood, throwing down her napkin. “Brent, she doesn’t know everything. You might try enlightening her before you pass judgment. Karen, sit your ass down.” She pointed at my seat.
“Kiss my arse.” I left in a huff. I didn’t really mind being house bound, it meant I had a legitimate excuse not to leave, or go into society. I ran up the stairs, hearing Doc’s nails click on the floors as he followed. I looked down and melted. He was my closet buddy, allowing me to cry into his fur, and never leaving my side when I passed out in the back of the walk-in closet.
I flopped on the bed, briefly remembering doing the same thing as a teenager, mad at Dad when he forbade me to date some kid at school. In the end, Dad was right, the kid was caught taking someone’s new car for a joyride.
I let my thoughts wander over memories of my father, Paul Barnes. The secrets he’d kept. The bunker was built two or three years before my birth, and he’d done a damn good job of hiding it.
I remembered a conversation from Oklahoma, when Rupert obviously knew something I didn’t about my mother. What didn’t I know? Why would Dad say she’d left if something else happened? Was she still out there? Should I find her? The questions festered, and I thought about calling my uncle to see if he’d spill the secrets. For some reason, I kind of doubted it.
I rolled over, listening to yet another helicopter make a pass over the house. They’d have to quit soon, no one wants to spend that kind of money to come up empty handed. Doc fumbled his way onto the bed, snuggling into my side, head across my arm. I held him close, happy for the nonjudgmental company.
“Doc a permanent bedmate, Karen?” Aiden’s voice echoed lightly through the room.
Doc’s head came up, and he growled, hackles raised, showing the new, sharp, and blindingly white, adult teeth.
“Easy, boy, you remember Aiden, don’t you?” I poked him in the side, getting his attention away from Aiden. “Yes, he is, to be honest. I have fewer nightmares with him around.”
Aiden nodded, and I looked him over. His clothes hung loose, highlighting the weight loss. A few more lines appeared on his face, and he walked a little hunched over. I suspected things happened in the holding facility he wouldn’t want to talk about.
“Are you finally free of all charges?” I whispered.
He laid on the bed, rolling to his side and facing me, elbow on the dark purple duvet, head resting on a hand. He reached out, stroking Doc’s thick coat. “Yeah. Not exactly sure what happened, but one moment they were threatening me with lethal injection, the next a big apology and released with all charges dropped.” He gave an awkward shrug.
“That was my fault, I’m afraid. My uncle is the VPOTUS, and I tried not to bring him into the middle of all it because of his political career, but …” I lay back and shrugged.
“Explains the massive media attention. Are you okay?” He reached out, using an index finger to smooth a loose curl behind my ear.
“No.” I glanced at him. I’d missed him
, one of the few people I’d come to trust who didn’t betray me, or die. Images of blood spurting across white carpeting made me wince.
“Here, either. How is the horse?” He copied my position.
“Bad shape. He trusts no one, has put a few scars on Brent and tried taking a chunk out of me a few times. His health is returning, but his mental health is sketchy at best.” I put an arm over my face.
The silence stretched through the room, comfortable, and welcome. I tried to push the memories away, afraid of the consequences. I wasn’t strong enough to face the present or future, much less the past.
I heard Aiden stand, but no footsteps. I peeked. He stood, staring at me, a strange combination of emotions running across his features. “What are you thinking?”
“That perhaps Five Alarm is a damned good mirror of you.” He tilted his head a little, hair falling across his face, brown eyes turning molten chocolate.
“Whatever. Don’t get maudlin.” I sat up, giving Doc a light smack on the butt. I walked into the closet, grabbing a pair of boots. “Might as well let them get a picture of me heading into the stables.” I grabbed a light jacket and left.
To get to the back door, I had to walk through the living room into the open dining room. The new doors were the folding sort, and remained wide open. I could hear Doc and Aiden following. I broke into a jog, the stables a hundred feet away. Helicopters hovered overhead, and I fought the temptation to flip them off. My uncle would read me the Riot Act. It was known who I was, and I had to behave. My anger ratcheted a few more notches, tired of the attention. Did I do the right thing calling Uncle?
I shot into the cooler, shadowed area of the walkway in the new stables. It was wide enough for two horses to walk side by side, with lots of room to spare. I heard trumpeting from the adjoining arena. I grabbed a halter, a lunge line, and the short horse whip.
Fractured Steel Page 15
