by Becky Flade
“Stop saying that! You are. I know you are. You all but told me yourself that day in your office, remember? But Marcus Becker got in the way. He was obsessed with his dead wife. He insisted I play the grieving son. He wouldn’t let me see you anymore. Took me to a new doctor. But it didn’t matter. I waited; I knew you’d come back for me.”
He shoved her ahead of him. “But you didn’t. I saw on the Internet video and pictures of you freaking out at some party. ’Cause you’re special, like me. I knew you needed me. Marcus tried to keep me away. That pathetic little man thought he could stand between me and my real mother.”
“What happened to Marcus?”
“I only did it because I had to; he wouldn’t let me come to you.” He shoved her again. “If you’d taken me away like you should’ve, it never would’ve happened. It’s your fault.”
Her foot sank in the marsh’s thick, fetid water. She had minor scrapes all over her legs and feet. But the cut on her foot throbbed. She suspected a sliver of ceramic was lodged in the wound, and it was likely infected. It didn’t compare to the gnawing pain in her shoulder. Then something sharp under the water’s obtuse surface sliced her calf. The shock of fresh pain obscured her other injuries for a brief second.
“Jonah. I’m hurt. I think my arm is dislocated. I don’t have any shoes. I can’t go on like this.”
He put his hands under her armpits and helped pull her from the sludge. Then he put the gun in the center of her back and nudged her forward. “We don’t have much farther to go.”
Henley both feared arriving at their destination and yearned to stop. She spared a look at the newest addition to her injuries. It was jagged and looked deep. “Were you trying to kill me in my apartment a couple weeks ago?”
He gripped her arm, and she moaned in pain. “No, I wasn’t. You drove right by me, and I followed you. I didn’t know you had moved into town. You were alone. I thought it was the perfect time to tell you I was here. That you’d be happy to see me. But you called out to that cop and invited him into your bedroom.” He yanked on her hair, forcing her neck back and raising her chin. “Mothers should be virtuous. You’ve been whoring yourself to that man.”
He jammed the pistol between her shoulder blades and drove her forward. She hurried as quickly as her injuries would allow. The cut on her calf pulled with each step. Fresh tears washed her cheeks.
“How did you find me?”
“Your apartment and your office were empty. But I remembered your parents’ address. I tried looking for you there. Your sister told me you were in Badensburg.”
“Badensburg? That was only a few weeks after I left Cleveland.”
“I’ve been with you ever since. I considered offering you a ride when your car broke down, but I hesitated. I wish now I had. I wouldn’t have had to shoot that dog. Turn right at the big rock there. The dock is ahead a few yards.”
Dock. She had to hope he had a boat moored there. And that he wasn’t planning on leaving her body at the bottom of the lake. Was Aidan alive? Had he found a way to find help? Carter. He’d call Carter. Is he out here right now looking for me? How would he handle her death?
She should’ve told him she loved him. She hadn’t wanted to burden him. Maybe it was good that she hadn’t; it would have made it harder for him. She saw the dock through the trees. It was barely more than a handful of rickety, mildew-encrusted planks. Hope filled her. There was a boat.
“I parked my car on the other side of the lake. There’s a picnic area there, did you know?”
“I didn’t, no.” The wood bent under her feet. It was slippery. Instinct made her bow her arms out at her sides in an attempted counterbalance. Agony screamed through her shoulder, and she listed toward the water. Jonah caught her as he stepped onto the dock with her.
“Careful.”
“Take your hands off her and drop the gun, Becker.”
Her heart leapt. He came for me. The world spun, and her feet slid on the slimy boards as Jonah twisted her body. He shoved her in front of him and pushed the gun barrel into her side.
“Come any closer and she dies.”
Carter looked dangerous. He was in his uniform, his gun was drawn, and she thought there might be a shotgun strapped to his back. Had the infection in her foot already spread to her brain that she could think about how sexy he was during a time like this? His knee was bloodstained. He’d been to the house. She saw movement behind Carter, to the right, as he advanced from the left. Her eyes flickered to the side. It was Doug!
“Are you going to kill your mother, Becker?”
“I used a baseball bat to kill the man who raised me. I think pulling this trigger will be easier,” he boasted. She felt her gore rise. That sweet man. All he’d wanted was to help the boy he loved. I’m sorry, Marcus. “I think it’ll be as easy as when I shot your dog.”
“You bastard!” she screeched. The grip on her ponytail tightened, jerking her head back. A burst of anger outweighed her instincts. “I’m glad I’m not your mother.”
“Stop saying that. You are my mother; why won’t you tell them the truth?”
“That is the truth. I’m not your mother. You’re sick, Jonah. Very sick; you need help.” Doug had broken the tree line, but she couldn’t tell if her captor had noticed the deputy. Carter had moved closer. Another step, maybe two, and he’d be on the dock with them. Henley wasn’t sure the unsteady structure could hold any more weight.
“Liar!” Jonah howled. He struck her with the gun. Fresh pain blossomed in her cheek. She would’ve fallen if not for his grip on her hair. Carter rushed the dock. His image wavered through the tears in her eyes. She watched as Jonah pointed his gun at the man she loved.
“No!” Henley threw her body back into Jonah. He pitched over the side and pulled her with him. The water was cold. Foul-tasting muck flooded her mouth. Reeds tugged at her hair. Her hands were bound. She tried to kick for the surface, but Jonah used her body as leverage to push himself toward the sky. She sank.
She heard a splash. Felt the water displace. Strong, familiar arms banded around her waist and pulled. Henley’s head broke water, and she took deep, heaving breaths. When her vision cleared, Carter’s dazzling blue eyes stared into hers.
“Are you okay?”
“I am now.” She laid her forehead against his as they treaded water together. “Careful of my arm; I think it’s dislocated. Jonah?”
Carter tilted his head to the side. They watched Doug drag Jonah’s limp body from the water and cuff the fugitive in record time. “I think he practices that on the CPR dummy at the firehouse,” Carter whispered. A laugh exploded from her. She burst into tears.
“You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.” He kissed her softly. She sobbed harder. “Doug? We’re going to need help over here.”
“I called everyone. First responders will be here any minute,” Doug informed them as he waded back into the water. “How do you want to do this?”
“Come out as far as you can and still touch bottom. Help her up when we get to you. Be careful.” They were gentle but couldn’t help jostling her as they made their way to shore. She tried to disguise her pain, but she knew Carter noticed. When he freed her hands, her right arm swung down, a dead, painful weight. Rubbing her chafed wrist against her hip, Henley looked back. Most of the dock had collapsed during the skirmish, and the boat had floated away. Jonah had meant for that boat to be his escape. It fit that the dinghy had slipped its mooring and set adrift in murky water. With steely resolve to save her pity, she glanced down at Jonah.
“Why is he unconscious?”
“Carter hit him. I’ve never seen anyone knock a guy out with one blow like that,” Doug said.
“I didn’t think you’d like it if I killed him,” Carter grumbled.
“Thank you.” She stepped toward him, and a searing pain in her calf made her gasp. Her eyes shot to the wound. Carter’s followed hers.
“I should have killed him.” Carter closed the distance between them. She swayed into his em
brace. Doug swung his booted foot into Jonah’s hip with enough force that the limp body left the ground and landed several inches away. She gasped. Doug had such a kind, sweet nature—the casual violence shocked her. Sirens rent the air.
“My official report will say that happened in the course of rescuing the subject from the lake.” Carter smiled. “But don’t ever strike a bound prisoner again.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Several law enforcement officials from a variety of agencies questioned her while a nurse cleaned her wounds. Her foot and face were stitched. The nurse inserted an intravenous line. Henley had coped well with the prodding, both physical and verbal. She had handled the touches of numerous strangers, and she had soldiered through the x-ray of her shoulder. People were everywhere.
Then suddenly she was alone, reclined on a bed with rails and handles. Separated from the world by a sheet of thin fabric. It might as well have been walls. Darkness crept at the edges of her psyche, and the panic fought to take over. She knew it wasn’t rational, that it was bizarre. She had kept her head during the abduction. Now she was safe and close to becoming unglued. Nobody’s going to lock you up. You haven’t done anything wrong. But she hadn’t done anything wrong twenty years ago, either. Anxiety caused her skin to crawl. Henley had begun to fear she’d lose the battle when the curtain split.
“What’s up, Doc?”
Carter winked. That joke hadn’t improved since the first time he told it, but her nerves abated. When he took her hand and bent to kiss her forehead, he shared his calm. The panic dimmed, fluttered, and died. Carter had come for her. She knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He’d begun to pull away, but she laid her hand on his cheek to halt his retreat. With his blazing cobalt eyes inches from her own, she gave him everything she could.
“I love you.”
His smile was beatific. He brushed his lips against hers in a featherlight kiss that electrified her. “I love you, too.”
Carter pulled the lone chair as close to her bed as he could and then reclaimed her hand. “I know you’ve been questioned and have given your statement more than once to more than one agency, but I have a question. I’m sorry, baby, but I have to ask.” She nodded. “Is there any chance Jonah Becker is your son?”
“No. Unequivocally no.”
“Why did he think he was?”
“I told you he didn’t handle his mother’s death well or the news that he’d been adopted. How I wanted to help him realize how loved he was, by all of his parents. I made the mistake of sharing my personal experience with him.”
“You told him about your son.”
“I did. And he became obsessed with the idea that I was his mother. Marcus discovered Jonah had told elaborate lies featuring me as his mother and painting Marcus and his late wife as villains. He confronted Jonah. The boy became incensed and struck his father. Marcus was worried about his son and searched Jonah’s room. What terrified him was the stuff he found that had blatant sexual overtones. That’s when I stopped treating Jonah.”
“I’m not surprised you found it difficult to not do everything in your power to help. That’s who you are. You should have told me all of this.”
“I knew you’d focus only on Jonah, and I didn’t want to believe it was him. That I had failed him so completely. If I’d bent my rigid ethics and used my extrasensory ability, I’d have known the depth of Jonah’s illness and gotten him the help he needed. Marcus Becker would be alive right now.”
“You are not to blame for that!” Carter punched his own thigh for emphasis. She noticed he’d struck his scarred leg.
“I wasn’t blaming myself. But it is a fact that I could’ve used my ability rather than telling Jonah such a personal thing about myself.”
“Why did you share that with him?” She gathered her thoughts, but he misread her hesitation. “Why was it so important to you Jonah Becker understand that his biological mother loved him if he wasn’t your son?”
“Shortly before Jonah became my patient, my son, Isaac, died in a plane crash.” She held up her hand to ward off his embrace. Her grief was an ancient wound that had healed. She didn’t want or need Carter’s fresh shock and sorrow. “It doesn’t take a medical degree to conclude that I tried to save Isaac by saving Jonah Becker. I failed them both.”
“Believing that, combined with grief and suffering a loss of identity—it’s no wonder you fell apart. But it made you stronger. And led you to me.” He took her hand and rubbed his thumb over the back of her knuckles. “I am truly sorry about Isaac, my love. About Marcus Becker, too. But I’m not sorry I found you, and I refuse to be.”
“That’s lovely.”
“It’s true, and I not only need you to believe it, but I need you to feel the same.”
“I do. Aidan and I were having a similar discussion this morning.” She paused. “Wow. Was that a few hours ago?”
“It was. And now that we’re on the same page, I have news.” His emotions were muddled, a mix of pain and hope that confused her. Henley’s eyes rose to his. She didn’t want to ask, couldn’t ask. Her own fear rose, nearly choking her as she waited for him to find the words. “I spoke with the vet. She said it is touch and go; Dubs has lost a lot of blood. But he has a good chance at pulling through. I was sure we’d lost him.” He burrowed his face in the crook of her neck, careful not to jostle her bad shoulder.
“He saved you. You saved him in return and have given him a good life. He almost sacrificed that life trying to save me. He’s so brave and strong, he’ll make it. I know he will.”
“He loves you.”
“It’s mutual.” Her throat was tight. She couldn’t manage any other words. Henley closed her eyes and stroked Carter’s nape. She felt his lips on the soft skin under her ear and knew that, for now, the storm had passed. Worry had been replaced by the joy of knowing that Dublin had a chance. And no one could deny the dog was a fighter.
“I should’ve shot the bastard.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Carter sat up and wiped the tears from his face and hers. He cupped her cheek. “Aidan was afraid you’d hate me if I killed your son.”
That’s how he’d known. Aidan had warned him. He didn’t have to do that. He could’ve allowed Carter to come after Jonah blind. Despite their differences, and the pain Jacob had caused him, Aidan had protected the man he thought might have been Jacob’s son. For her.
“How is Aidan?”
“Took you long enough to ask.”
“What the . . . ?”
A small, red blur flew through the gap in the curtain and burrowed into Henley’s chest.
“Watch her arm!”
“Oh, sorry.” Maggie pulled back. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Henley smiled when Maggie spun around and threw herself into Carter’s belly.
“I’m so happy to hear about Dublin. He’s the best. You know Tala’s going to want to help nurse him back to health.”
“Where is the Turnip?”
“At the diner with Ma and the Old Man.” Maggie stepped back.
“Hey. Remember me?” Aidan thundered.
“Where is he?” Henley asked.
“Right in the other berth.” Maggie pulled back the curtain. Aidan waved from the opposite bed, grinning from ear to ear. Henley tucked her tongue in her cheek. He appeared to be enjoying the painkillers. “No one forgot you, baby.”
“You could hear us talking?” Carter asked Maggie.
“Yeah. It was sweet. And heartbreaking.” She laid her hand on Carter’s arm.
“Are you okay, Aidan?” Henley inquired.
“They’re going to operate. The bullet is lodged in my leg.” Henley heard a hint of pride she detected odd. “I’m a hero.”
“You and Carter will have matching scars,” she assured him.
“He’s fine.” Maggie rolled her eyes. “He lost a little blood. But they said if you’re going to get shot, that’s the way to do it. Nothing vital was hit.
They’re only taking him up to remove the bullet. It’s nothing compared to Carter’s injury.”
“I’m a hero,” Aidan repeated.
Maggie scoffed. “I’ve been shot worse than that.”
“You’ve been shot?”
“Yup.” She rested a hip against the hospital bed. “All part of that tragic story I promised to share with you. However, I think you have your own story to tell.”
“Excuse me?” Henley didn’t understand Maggie’s meaning.
“I want to know about this ability, or whatever it was you mentioned.”
“You mean when you eavesdropped on a private conversation,” Carter mocked.
“The definition of eavesdropping renders the phrase ‘private conversation’ redundant.” Maggie smirked at Carter and arched a brow at Henley. “Spill.”
“Leave her alone.” Henley could see Carter’s anxiety. Without needing to touch him, she understood his nerves were for her, not because of her. She smiled, winked at her man, and whispered her secret in Maggie’s ear.
“No shit?” her friend asked as Henley leaned back on the pillow. Henley nodded. “That’s freaking awesome. All previous statements are rescinded; you have a standing invitation to poker.”
“No questions about my sanity? You believe me?”
“Why not? You’re my friend. I’ve got no grounds to doubt your integrity or mental state. And believe me, mine and Aidan’s story knocks that out of the park.”
“What did she say?” Aidan’s question echoed through the trauma ward.
“I’ll tell you later. Jeez.” Maggie shook her head. “How’d it happen? Were you born that way?”
“It was a consequence of the coma.” Carter took her hand. She didn’t miss the look he threw at Maggie. His concern was reasonable. The last time Jacob was mentioned when the four of them were together, Aidan had assaulted her and she’d attempted to flee Trappers’ Cove. He may have been flying on narcotics, but Aidan was sharp enough to pick up the unspoken thread.
“Are we okay, man?” Aidan asked.
“I don’t know.” Carter looked at Henley. “Are we?”
