Heartwood

by L. G. Pace III

  “Good to see you, short shit.” He tried to play it light, but his eyes told a different story.

  “Mac.” I sniffed, suddenly feeling weepy. He looked taken aback by my reaction, but didn’t say anything to tease me about it.

  “Mason and Robin are here. They’re in the waiting room with Robbie and Tamryn. Tamryn’s pretty shaken up, but she wants to come back and see you.” He gently hugged me and held me for a moment. His eyes traveled over my wounded face. I saw violent anger flicker across his face, but he seemed to shrug it away. “I should have taken care of that asshole when I first heard he put a hand on you.”

  “Malcom Thaddius Hildebrandt.” Mom’s voice never rose above a conversational tone but Mac stiffened. “That’s enough. I’m sure she appreciates the sentiment, but she doesn’t need you getting her all riled up.”

  “Okay, Mom.” Looking back at me he winked conspiratorially and squeezed my hand. Too tired to do anything more, I smirked with the side of my mouth that still functioned properly.

  “Molly.” The nurse stepped forward and blushed as she gave Mac a sideways glance. “The pediatrician would like to take some X-rays of Logan and examine him again.”

  “Again?” I asked, feeling mentally sluggish. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He was a little dehydrated and he had the start of a rash on his bottom but other than that he appeared uninjured. I understand you told the paramedics he was thrown?”

  “Yes.” It surprised me that I’d had conversations of which I had no recollection. I recalled the image of Draven flinging Logan aside and I shuddered. Mac exhaled loudly and didn’t let go of my hand.

  “They’d like to check him to be sure he doesn’t have any hidden injuries.” The nurse went on.

  “I’m going with him.” I replied, trying to get up for a second time.

  “That’s out of the question.” The doctor replied, his dark eyes narrowing at me.

  “You’re not taking my baby anywhere without me. No one is.” I barked and Mac put a hand on my shoulder.

  “I’ll go with him, kid. Let these people do their jobs.” His level delivery took all of the fight out of me.

  “Don’t you dare let him out of your sight, Mac.” I meant it to sound forceful, but it was more of a mumble. I felt like my functioning eyelid weighed ten tons.

  “Not a fucking chance.” Mac replied, and then my world went dark.

  I HAVE ALWAYS firmly believed that lawyers and politicians are reserved a special place in the hottest fires of Hell. As with many things I was absolutely sure of in my youth, I’ve come to realize that I was full of shit. Granted, my opinions were largely formed by the animosity that existed between me and my father. Since he was both a lawyer and a politician, it made most members of both professions highly suspect in my opinion.

  Every time I’ve found myself in a legal tug of war, I’m suddenly grateful for my family of lawyers. Draven Cirone’s family may have ostracized him in life, but in death they chose to canonize him. Maybe it was to save face...who knows?

  When the D.A. didn’t buckle to their demands to prosecute me, they came after me in civil court. Being as fickle as they are, the press was quick to jump on the bandwagon, calling my actions ‘vigilante justice’. The court of public opinion seemed to split down the middle, and after a couple of unfortunate exchanges with the press, Molly and I avoided the situation completely by staying home.

  Dad and Tamryn didn’t pull any punches. Tamz took the Cirones down a legal rabbit hole that was truly awe inspiring to watch. Dad was less involved in the court battles, but that doesn’t mean he was any less engaged in the situation. He didn’t tell me much (wishing me to have plausible deniability), but mentioned that he had his people offering quiet assistance to law enforcement.

  Within three weeks of filing the civil suit, the Cirone family suffered some unfortunate setbacks. The F.B.I. arrested two of their family members for tax evasion and bribery. I assumed Dad’s caffeine-addled hackers played a role in that. Just as things started to get really ugly, the D.A. released all of the information on Draven’s kidnapping of Molly. She was naturally upset about this turn of events, but she knew it was helping my case. Days later, some anonymous source also leaked Draven psychiatric files online and the tabloids went after the family like rabid dogs. The way they backpedaled was epic; they pulled all their lawsuits and by all accounts tried to vanish from the public eye.

  I kept out of sight as well, only leaving Molly and the kids when I had to go to court. On those rare occasions when I had to go out, Mac, Mason or Graham came to the house. It just made me feel better to know that my family was looked after when I was gone. It was a full two months after I got Molly back before things were finally starting to get back to normal.

  Normal. What the hell does that even mean? On paper we were healing. My ribs had healed and my wounds had been reduced to nothing more than a scar along my temple. Molly’s face had healed, and her vision was 20/20 with her contacts in. She was sleeping, at least as much as she ever did. My kids had started sleeping in their own rooms again. Even so, half the time I’d wake to find Molly asleep on the couch or in the glider with one of the twins. If not, I’d find Eva sleeping with Logan in his crib. On those nights, Molly was roll up in a blanket like a mummy, so far over on her side of the bed that she’d practically fall off.

  Once when I was half asleep, I rolled over and wrapped my arm around her waist. She reacted as if she’d discovered a rattlesnake in our bed. Her elbow connected with my lip and she fought her way away from me as if her life depended on it. Having taken a sleeping pill, she never even woke up. The next morning when she saw my bruised cheekbone and the small cut on my lip, her eyes went wide.

  “Baby, what happened?” She asked, moving in to get a closer look at my face.

  “Nothing.” I lied. “I tripped and hit it on the doorframe last night when I was checking on the kids.”

  Thanksgiving was awkward. We did lunch at my parents’ house and dinner at Molly’s mom’s. Both families toasted about our bounty of blessing and all the things for which we had to be thankful. I nodded and smiled though it felt like a mask. Molly said nothing, and I gently put my hand on her knee. She turned to me, and the tormented look in her eyes haunted me the rest of the day.

  The restaurant was a big topic of conversation. I was pissed when Mason brought up the subject, because Molly hadn’t even been there since our wedding day. Everyone erupted in excited chatter, and Granny used it as an excuse to pour more wine. Betty came around the table to hug me.

  “Chet always said ‘Mollybelle’s gonna run this place some day and we’re gonna retire and drink Mai Tai’s on the beach’. Thank you for being so good to my girl, Joseph.” She kissed my cheek and hugged Molly from behind. A couple of minutes later when the conversation turned to Robin’s new job, Molly disappeared into the kitchen. When I went to find her, she was washing dishes by the light above the sink.

  I came up behind her like I had so many times before, but when my lips connected with her neck she cried out and nearly climbed the cabinets to get away from me. I stumbled back, holding my hands up in surrender.

  Molly’s panicked face fell when she saw my wide-eyed expression and she hurried to me. Her hands gripped my hair and she kissed my frantically. “I’m so sorry, baby. You just startled me.”

  This type of behavior was more the rule than the exception.

  Most of the time she clung to me, holding my hand or cuddling up close. I craved the attention, and lapped it up like a thirsty dog. She fluctuated between clinging to me and shying away. When things got heated, and our touching or kissing escalated, she withdrew and I retreated in response. When I’d asked her if she wanted to talk about what had happened to her, she refused. We hadn’t made love once since our honeymoon, but it was the least of my concerns. I was desperate to be close to her, to make her laugh again. I needed to feel connected to her like we’d been, but I had no idea how to get past the newly erected w
alls she was hiding behind. I’d hoped that time would fix us, but I was starting to see that she was slipping further away from me.

  Neither Molly nor I had been back to work and though we hadn’t discussed it, she didn’t seem in a hurry to rectify that. She looked pale and drawn, and frankly I was afraid to leave her. I had Mac bring projects that they needed me for to the house and I worked on them in the garage. When the kids were napping, Molly wandered from room to room like a ghost, and seeing she was just as lost as I was made it hard to concentrate on anything. I knew that she needed help...that we needed help.

  It wasn’t long before I enlisted an expert. We’d just put the kids down for their afternoon nap on Christmas Eve when there was a knock at the door. Molly answered it and seemed surprised to see Dr. Greene standing on my threshold.

  “Molly. How have you been?”

  “Umm...just fine, Will.” She fidgeted with her sleeve, but she let him in. “What brings you by?”

  I came up beside her and put my hand on her shoulder. “I asked him to come.”

  Her eyebrows shot up and she scanned my face for clues to what had prompted this surprise. Ignoring her silent demand for an explanation, I led him into the living room and offered him some coffee. Once we were all settled, Dr. Greene turned to Molly.

  “I wanted to come and wish my favorite couple a Happy Holidays. How’ve you been sleeping?” I could almost see her hackles rise at his tone.

  “Like a baby.” Her well-rehearsed poker face slipped into place.

  “Is that so? Well that’s a relief.” I could tell by the tension in the room that she knew he doubted her story. “I have been waiting for you to come to see me since we talked in the hospital. You haven’t made any appointments.”

  She toyed with her hair. “I’ve been really busy.”

  His sardonic expression was familiar to me. “So I hear. Spending almost all your time at home. No work, no outings. Just kind of hunkering down in the homestead. Are you going somewhere for Christmas?”

  Irritation broiled in her eyes. I expected her to use the excuse she’d trumped up for our families. That she and I just wanted a quiet Christmas with the twins. Dr. Greene sipped his coffee as if we were discussing college football. I was surprised at the casual way he was treating all of this. He, better than anyone, knew what both of us had gone through.

  “Will,” She responded tightly, rearranging her features so that they took on a mechanical, blank expression. It had been years since I’d seen that look on her face, and it was always when her brothers had taken their razzing too far. This look always preceded an explosive display of temper. While I’d always been highly amused as a bystander, I sure as hell didn’t want it directed at me or the doc. “Is there any particular reason you came to visit?”

  “As a matter of fact,” he replied, his voice as smooth as satin, “your husband called me because he’s concerned.”

  She turned slowly in my direction, her eyes blazing. I frowned at her morosely and nodded.

  “Molly, you know things have been strained. We’re drifting. We don’t talk about things and—”

  “Joe.” My name sounded like a plea. I hated the grim finality in the way she said it. Tears welled in her watchful eyes.

  “We need to talk about it.” I pleaded. “Please, baby. I’m struggling. I can tell you are, too. I know you aren’t sleeping well.”

  “That’s because you’re up checking the doors and windows three times a night.” She trailed off, and it seemed like she was about to add something, but she looked at the doc and clammed up.

  “What is it, Molly?” He asked, honing in on her tell. “You seem like you have something you’d like to say.”

  She looked down at her hands which were clasped in her lap, and her long hair fell in her face. When she finally looked back up, it was at the ceiling and not us. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I’m not sure you’ll forgive me.”

  I slipped off the couch and knelt down in front of her. She quickly looked down at her lap once more. Taking her hands, I dipped my head to try to meet her eyes. After several long moments, she cautiously met my eyes, shame marring her sweet face.

  “Baby girl,” I sighed, astonished that I had to verbalize such a truism to her. “You have nothing to be sorry for...you didn’t do this.”

  Her smooth forehead furrowed and the horrible way her voice caught made my stomach flip. “You don’t know what happened. I haven’t told you what he made me do.”

  There it was. I’d thought the distance between us was woven only from my fear and guilt. From the sound of things though, she had similar feelings. Now that the conversation loomed before us, I was suddenly afraid of what she might tell me. Everything that she had gone through was on me. It was my fault for being off my guard, and not being there to protect her when she needed me.

  “Molly...”

  I glanced over at Dr. Greene who was glaring at me sternly. Looking pointedly at Molly, he motioned his hand over his lips in a distinctive zipping motion. Looking back at my wife, I saw she was trembling. Whatever she was holding inside...what she hadn’t told me was poison. Venom left behind by that asshole like a parting gift. If she was going to heal, if we were going to heal, she needed to lance the wound.

  “Molly, you don’t have to tell me anything.” I whispered, taking a seat next to her on the couch. “But if you want to talk, I’m listening.”

  Molly looked up at me in surprise. Dr. Greene nodded his encouragement when she glanced apprehensively at him.

  “Can I have some Bailey’s in this coffee first?” When we both ignored her wisecrack, she looked off thoughtfully.

  Then she began to speak. Every moment of her tale was hair-raising, and I found myself on the edge of my seat. Some of it wasn’t as bad as I feared. But some was much, much, worse. As the story poured out of her, I felt hot tears streaming down my cheeks.

  My heart ached when she pleaded for me to understand the things she had to do. I raged silently at the things Draven had done to her and how he had violated and assaulted her. It made me wish he was still alive so I could kill him all over again. A million deaths were not enough punishment for what he’d done to my girl. Not to mention what he had planned to do.

  She finally spun down, sharing how devastated she was when I was shot. How empty she felt watching me fall to the ground. Her elation when she saw me rise up. We had to wait for her to stop crying after she brought up the shot that nearly killed me.

  Hearing her describe how frightened she had been as she felt me slipping out of her grasp was almost too much. The image of her alone in the dark, knowing she might not be able to save me but that she couldn’t let me go. All that kept going through my mind was how amazed I was at everything she’d survived. Her behavior made total sense in the light of all she’d been through. It was a wonder she had any sliver of sanity left.

  I struggled to find something to say. I knew the way her mind worked, and that the longer the silence went on the more she would think I was upset with her. Desperately, I tried to put into words what I felt, but my mind was awash in the horrors she’d revealed.

  Dr. Greene cleared his throat. When he broke the silence, I rejoiced.

  “Molly, I want you to understand something important. Everything you described...you did to survive and to protect your baby. We know you didn’t do it because you wanted to. Blaming yourself is a normal response, but it’s unfounded.”

  She frowned at him, but I saw a longing in her eyes. She wanted to believe him. She wanted it to be true.

  “You need to forgive yourself.” The doc leaned forward for emphasis as he spoke again. “I’ve seen his file. He never should have been released. Draven was smart enough to convince them to let him go. He was a sociopath and a sadist. And from what you’ve described it sounds like he suffered from dissociative identity disorder. You were dealing with a fractured individual who was as dangerous as they come.”

  I gave the doc a grateful look. Molly glanced at
me, and I nodded. She didn’t seem entirely convinced but she didn’t argue. Turning, the doc fixed me with an expectant expression. I’d logged enough hours with the man to know if I didn’t speak he would start badgering me.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?” She looked confused.

  I blew out a breath. “It kills me that you had to go through all that. I should have been here.”

  Molly looked surprised at that.

  “Joe, he purposely waited until you left. He’d been watching us for months. He was the one at the laser tag maze who fondled me. And I think he was watching me when I was out the night of the bachelorette party, too. He was going to get to me sooner or later. It was only a matter of time. If I’d listened to you in the first place and stayed out of Elaine’s fight with him, he’d have never come here.” She shot back, crossing her arms and looking off into the other room.

  We paused in our verbal volley. I considered what she’d been carrying around and I assume she was doing the same.

  “It seems to me you did the right thing helping his ex-wife.” Dr. Greene offered. We both whipped our heads in his direction and he shrugged. “You know better than anyone that Draven had no business playing any part in a child’s life.”

  I watched the sudden flash behind her agonized eyes. She nodded, but her expression had a hardness I’d never seen on her.

  He left a short time later after eliciting promises that we’d both make weekly appointments together and separately. He told me I needed to start going back to the shop, if only for a few hours a week. I wasn’t sure I could keep that promise, but I said I’d try.

  I was debating about how I’d trick myself into going back to the shop later that night. Molly and I were both firmly ensconced in our own sides of the king sized bed, and I stared at the ceiling, wide awake. What seemed like hours passed, and after failing to fall asleep, I glanced at the clock. It was midnight.

  Christmas.

  A year ago to the day she’d agreed to be my wife. In the lonely dark of our bedroom, it seemed more like a decade had passed. I rolled onto my back and sighed. All I wanted was Molly. To hold her, talk with her, taste her. I missed her almost as much as I had when he’d taken her from me.