The Twisted Road to You (Perfect, Indiana Book 4)

by Barbara Longley

  “Sure, but we’ll need to talk to you soon. We need to get your statement,” Andrew told her. “Tomorrow afternoon OK?”

  She nodded. Ken set the dish tub on the hood of her car, along with her purse. He led her to the Ford, dipped a dish towel into the steaming water and began to wash the blood from her face. Kyle and Ryan joined them, and the three men, Wesley’s friends, surrounded her. Their protectiveness and care penetrated the shock that held her in its grip. “Thank you for . . . for—”

  “Everything’s going to be OK, Carlie.” Kyle put his arm around her shoulders. “Wes is tough. He’ll survive.”

  “Do you know that for certain?” she asked. Kyle’s mouth tightened, and he turned away. Her stomach dropped. “W-why did he do that?” Carlie searched the faces of the men around her. “Why did Wes expose himself to Jared like he did? He should’ve stayed hidden.”

  Ken raked his fingers through his dark brown hair. “I’m sure he wanted to distract Baumann from going under the car after you. That was a brilliant move, by the way.” He patted her face dry with a towel. “I don’t think he expected the guy to fire on him. A sane person would’ve dropped the weapon and put his hands up where we could see them. I guess Baumann wasn’t sane.”

  “He was high on something,” she choked out. “Definitely not sane.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me, and I don’t think Wes thought it through,” Kyle remarked. “He acted on instinct. In case you haven’t noticed, Wesley is pretty protective when it comes to you and your son.”

  Kenneth finished washing her face and took her shaking hands in his. He dipped them into the warm sudsy water and gently scrubbed the blood away. “Not much I can do about your clothes,” he told her. “Do you want to stop by L&L and change on our way to Boonville?”

  “No.” She stared down at the blood smeared across the front of her jacket and the dirt and grass stains on her jeans. “I . . . I just want to get to the hospital as soon as possible.”

  “I called Noah and let him know what happened,” Ryan told her. “They said to tell you they’ll keep Tyler and the dog for as long as you need them to, and they also said not to worry. Tyler and Toby are having a great time.”

  Oh, God! I’m the worst mother ever. She bit her lip. Tyler hadn’t even entered her mind since the moment she’d seen Wesley fall. “Th-thank you for calling them for me.”

  “Ken and I are going to stick with you tonight.” Kyle squeezed her shoulders again and let her go. “Brenda is on her way to St. Mary’s, and we’ll meet her there.”

  “I’m going to stay with the marshals until things are buttoned up here, and then I’m heading home,” Ryan said.

  Carlie nodded again. She’d moved into the numbed-out stage of shock, with the same image circling around in her head over and over: Wesley, the man she loved with everything she had, falling to the ground, shot by her ex. Her fault. She hiccupped, and fresh tears flooded her eyes. She couldn’t get a grip on her emotions.

  Ken handed her a towel to dry her hands. He dumped the water and placed the tub on her front steps.

  “Ready?” Kyle grabbed her purse from the hood and opened the front passenger door of her Escape. “I’ll follow in my car. Give me your keys. Ken came with me tonight, so he’ll drive your Escape.”

  She drew her car keys out of her jacket pocket and handed them over. Grimacing, she clutched her middle as she bent into the front seat of her car.

  “You’re hurt.” Kyle placed her purse on the floor by her feet.

  “Jared struck me with the butt of the rifle when I tried to get the pepper spray out of my purse.” She settled gingerly into the seat. “I should’ve had it in my hand when I went inside.”

  “We’re going to get you checked out while we’re at the hospital.” Kyle reached in and helped her get her seat belt buckled.

  “I don’t think anything is broken.” She leaned back and sucked in a breath. “I’ve had broken ribs before, and I know what that feels like.”

  “Regardless of what you think, I’m taking you to the emergency room.” Kyle patted her knee before handing Ken her keys.

  “Wes is going to be fine,” Ken said as he slid behind the wheel of her car. “Kyle was a corpsman and a med tech in the army. He’d know.”

  God, she hoped they were right. Nodding, she stared out the window at nothing.

  “I’m sorry,” Ken muttered. “Seems like I’ve done nothing but mess things up lately.”

  “What are you talking about?” Carlie turned away from the window, frowning.

  “The stakeout was my idea, and so was the wager.”

  “First of all, the stakeout was a good idea. It sure beat waiting for something to happen. None of us could have known that Jared has been camping out in that house.” She shuddered, remembering the terror of discovering him inside. “And . . . the wager?”

  Ken’s brown eyes met hers for a second before turning back to the road. “Wes didn’t tell you?”

  “No, but the sheriff mentioned something to me about a pool. When I asked Wes, he said he doesn’t get involved in the nonsense that goes on at L&L.”

  “That’s the truth. He doesn’t get involved in that stuff. The pool was entirely my idea, and the whole thing was in poor taste. We were wagering on when the two of you . . . er . . .”

  “Really, Ken?” She flashed him an incredulous look. “Seriously? Wes would never share that with anyone, and neither would I.”

  “I know. Immature, right?” He shrugged, his expression sheepish. “I apologized to Wes, but Carlie . . .”

  “What?”

  “When it comes to you, the guy is clueless. I just wanted to shake a few of his brain cells loose.” He glanced at her again. “We all know he’s crazy about you. Everybody can see the way that thickheaded Marine looks at you.”

  “How he looks at me?”

  “Sure. Even before your ex showed up, I saw the look. You know, the few times I went to the diner with him for breakfast.” Ken grunted. “He looks at you like you’re the reason the Earth spins on its axis.”

  She’d seen the desire in Wes’s eyes, but she’d also been the one to run into the concrete bunker he’d built around his heart. She ached, and not just from her bruised ribs. They’d both put up walls around themselves, not trusting, afraid of being let down again. Despite what she’d seen in the movies and read in romance novels, sometimes love just wasn’t enough. She sighed.

  “I witnessed what happened tonight. Wes stood up because your ex had that rifle in his hands, and it was clear the guy was going after you under the car. Wes did what he did to distract Baumann. He took a bullet for you, Carlie, and if that doesn’t say—”

  “I didn’t want him to take a bullet for me.” Her voice broke. “I wanted him to stay safely hidden in the brush.” Ken’s words, meant to reassure, only brought a fresh wave of heartache. “It’s my fault he was shot. Not yours. I never should have let him get involved.”

  “Like you could’ve stopped him.” A wry grin lit his face. He pulled into the parking lot at St. Mary’s hospital and followed the signs to the main entrance.

  She hadn’t been any good for Wesley Holt, that’s for sure. After everything she’d been and done, she didn’t deserve him. Oh, God. What if his friends were wrong and Wes didn’t make it? Her throat closed up, and she couldn’t breathe. He had to make it. How could she bear it if he didn’t?

  Ken took her by the elbow and led her into the hospital lobby. She stood silently behind him as he asked for information from a silver-haired woman sitting behind the reception desk. The woman’s fingers flew over the computer keyboard in front of her. “Mr. Holt is just leaving the trauma center and going into surgery now,” she told them. She produced a printed map of the facilities and proceeded to show Ken where they would find the waiting room within the surgical center.

  “Thank you,” Ken said, taking the map from the receptionist. Once again he took Carlie’s arm and led her through the hospital corridor. “I’ll get yo
u settled in the waiting room, and then I’ll go rustle us up a couple of cups of decent coffee.” He studied her face. “How does that sound?”

  “I’d like that.” She bit her lower lip. “Everyone at L&L has been so great. I . . . I don’t know how to thank all of you. I don’t even know why you’ve all rallied around us the way you have. Tyler and I are . . . were strangers to all of you a month ago.”

  “Noah Langford has a knack for bringing good people together at L&L, and the crew always rallies when one of us needs a hand. Wes is one of us. When he took you in, you became one of us. When he told us you needed our help, we were happy to step up. That’s just the way it is in the military, and it’s the way we do things at L&L.” Ken’s voice came out a little hoarse. “I have no idea how I managed to get a job there. I really don’t.”

  “You’re a good guy, Ken.” She glanced at him, only to have him turn away. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

  They reached a carpeted waiting room with couches, chairs and a counter area where a lone staff person wearing scrubs sat on a tall stool behind a computer. Carlie caught sight of Wes’s sister Brenda, huddled over a clipboard, filling out paperwork with Wes’s wallet open wide on her lap. An older couple sat beside her, a tall, lanky man with salt-and-pepper hair and a beard, and a petite woman with short blonde hair streaked with silver. The man had his arm around the woman, whose eyes were puffy and red rimmed. She clutched her purse and rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Oh, God,” Carlie whispered. “Wesley’s parents.” How could she face them? Her feet planted themselves on the threshold, refusing to budge. Brenda raised her eyes from the clipboard, catching sight of her before she could turn around and flee. Her eyes were also red rimmed and puffy.

  Brenda’s hands shook as she set the clipboard and wallet aside. She gestured toward the couch across from the one she and her parents occupied. “Oh, Carlie, are you OK? Kyle texted to let me know what happened.”

  “I’m all right.” The older couple’s eyes were on her now. She would have bolted for the nearest exit, except Ken still had her by the elbow. Her palms grew moist, and her poor heart took off at a gallop. Ken started her toward the couch. Carlie tried to swallow the lump of guilt clogging her throat.

  Brenda rose from her place. “Carlie, Ken, this is my mom, Maggie, and my dad, John. Mom, Dad, this is Carlie Stewart and Ken Johnson.”

  Maggie’s gaze went to the smear of blood on Carlie’s jacket, and the woman’s eyes filled. Carlie took it off, wadded it up so the blood wouldn’t show and tossed it on the couch. “Mr. and Mrs. Holt, I’m so sorry about Wes, I—”

  “I worried about that boy day and night for twenty years while he was in the Marines.” Maggie shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I thought . . . I thought my worrying days were over now that he was home.”

  “Now, Maggie, he’s going to be fine.” John patted his wife’s shoulder. “He’s going to be just fine,” he repeated, as if to convince himself. “It’s nice to meet you two. Have a seat.”

  Another wave of recrimination knocked into her as Carlie sank down to the couch. She couldn’t look Wes’s mother in the eye.

  “I’m going to make a coffee run.” Ken gestured toward the exit. “Can I bring any of you a cup?”

  “Sure,” Brenda said. “Cream and two sugars for me. Mom, Dad?”

  “Thank you, son. I’d love a cup. Black is fine, but my wife isn’t a coffee drinker.”

  “Tea, Mrs. Holt?” Ken glanced at Wes’s mom.

  “Thank you; that would be nice. I like honey in my tea if they have it, otherwise plain is fine.”

  “Carlie?” Ken’s hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides.

  “Black with a couple of sugars, thanks.” She reached for the wallet in her purse.

  “I’ve got it.” Ken strode out of the room before she could even get her wallet out, leaving her alone with Wes’s family—and her all-consuming shame and blame. She didn’t know where to look or what to say, and her mouth had turned into a spit-free zone.

  “Wes had a bunch of scans and tests done in the trauma center. They gave him blood and made sure he was stabilized before they sent him to surgery,” Brenda said, her voice quavering.

  “Did they say . . . did the doctors give you any idea . . .” Carlie bit her lip. “How is he?”

  “They didn’t say.” Brenda went back to the forms on her lap.

  “We don’t blame you for what happened, Ms. Stewart,” Mr. Holt said, his voice hoarse. “We want you to know that right up front. Our son . . . well, he’s always been . . .” He cleared his throat a couple of times. “Brenda told us about your . . . situation, and we’re glad he stepped up to help you and your boy.” He glanced at his wife. “Isn’t that right, Maggie, honey?”

  Mrs. Holt sniffed and nodded. “So . . . we hear you and your little boy are living with our son? Are the two of you—”

  “Oh, I’m . . . we’re friends.” Heat flooded her face. “Wes offered to let us stay with him in his apartment until my ex could be apprehended, because he believed we’d be safer there. I’m staying in one of the extra bedrooms, and my son is in the other.”

  Brenda’s brow rose slightly, and one side of her mouth quirked up for a second. Did she know? Was it obvious that she and Wes were sleeping together? “Wesley is incredible,” Carlie stammered. “I’m sure you know how amazing he is. I want you to know how very thankful I am to . . . to have him in my life. My son absolutely idolizes him, and the two of them share such a bond,” she babbled on. “Wes is great with Tyler. He’s so patient and . . . and caring.” The Holts sat up a little straighter at her praise.

  “He’s always been that way,” Maggie said, her voice tinged with pride. “Wesley has always looked out for others, including his siblings. It’ll be good to have him home for a while.” She fidgeted with her purse. “Since he can’t be on his own after the surgery, we’ll bring him home to stay with us while he recovers.”

  “No!” The word escaped before she could stop herself. Mr. and Mrs. Holt stared in surprise at her outburst, and she noticed Mr. Holt’s eyes were hazel, just like Wes’s. Her heart flipped, and more heat rose to her face. “I mean . . . Wesley has done so much for me and Tyler. I want to repay his kindness. Tyler and I are already living in his apartment, and I have tons of vacation time saved up. I want to take care of him. Please, Mr. and Mrs. Holt, let me do this for Wesley. I . . . I need to. I want to take care of him the way he’s taken care of us.”

  His parents shared a look, as if discussing the matter. Mr. Holt nodded. “All right, young lady. I guess we ought to be on a first-name basis then, don’t you? We’ll be around if you need us. Wes has never been good at being the one who needs help. If he gets too ornery, you just give us a call, and we’ll set him straight.”

  “I will. I promise.” All the air left her lungs, and she slumped against the back of the couch. She didn’t want to leave Wes, and she really didn’t want to move back into the scene of the crime. That’s all the house was to her now, a crime scene. Her lease was up in four more months, and she intended to talk her landlord into letting her out of it early. She’d start looking for a new place to live immediately, somewhere in town and not so isolated this time. Closer to work . . . nearer to Wesley.

  Her chest tightened. She’d miss living with him, and so would Tyler. What would become of her relationship with Wes now that the danger had passed? Would the two of them go back to leading their separate lives? Being nothing more than friends with sex on the side would devastate her. She knew that now.

  Kyle strode into the room, and Brenda got up and hurried to him, her eyes filling with tears. He wrapped his arms around his fiancée and held her tight, uttering soothing words and rocking her back and forth. “John, Maggie,” he greeted Wes’s parents. “Any word?”

  “He’s in surgery. That’s all we know,” Wes’s dad said. “Now it’s just a matter of waiting.”

  With his arm around Brenda’s waist, Ky
le moved her back to the couch. He picked up the clipboard, scanned it and asked, “Are you done with this, Bren?”

  “I think so.” Brenda sat back down.

  “I’ll take it to the desk, and then I need to get Carlie to the emergency room.”

  Carlie opened her mouth to protest, but Kyle shook his head, his expression stern. “I ran into Ken in the hall on his way to get coffee. Once he’s back and you have your coffee, you and I are heading downstairs to have your ribs X-rayed just to be sure.”

  Brenda’s eyes filled with concern. “What happened, Carlie?”

  She glanced at Wes’s parents, and mortification sent heat rushing to her face. What would they think of her if they knew her history? They’d probably insist that Wesley recover with them.

  “If you don’t mind, you can tell us,” Maggie urged. “We know some of the story. Brenda told us, and sometimes talking about things helps.”

  “All right.” She took a minute to gather her wits, and she explained how her ex had injured her and how he’d tried to force her into taking him to Tyler. Finally, she described how she’d gotten free.

  “Did you use something we learned in our self-dense class?” Brenda asked, her eyes wide.

  She nodded, and a tiny flare of pride lit within her. “Once I got out his hold, I rolled under my car, so I’d be out of the way and whoever was closest would have a clean shot at him.”

  “How did Jared get inside the house?” Kyle perched on the edge of the couch beside Brenda. “None of us saw any signs of a break-in, and believe me, we looked.”

  “He didn’t have to break in.” She shared with them what Jared had told her about how he’d pried the broken door free. She raked her fingers through her hair. “I should’ve figured he’d do something like that.”

  “Our son broke down your door?” John’s eyes narrowed.