by Abbie Roads
A gleeful surprise lit Evanee’s eyes. “Then here’s the crib notes version: You’re Fearless, and he’s Bear. You can heal him. All of him. And look at him. He’s suffering in a prison of his mind’s creation. I know the feeling. I’ve been there…locked in a place where I didn’t think I deserved to be healed or helped.”
“Me too.” Helena’s voice sounded small but carried a decade’s burden.
“Oh, sweetie.” Evanee drew her into a tight hug. “I know you have. We all have. It’s why we have these abilities. ‘Sacred are the wounded, for they shall balance the earth.’” She drew back and stared into Helena’s eyes. “You go in there, and you touch him. Touch is healing. Just like with Fearless and Bear, if you’re touching, nothing can harm you.”
A sudden thought occurred to Helena. “Is that why your husband doesn’t like to let you out of his arms and out of his sight?”
“That’s exactly the reason. We’re only truly safe when touching.” She motioned for her husband to join her. She didn’t speak until she was safety ensconced next to him. “Now go in there and heal my brother. He needs you. We’ll stop by the house tomorrow and explain everything.”
Helena watched them walk down the hallway, arms around each other, the love they carried for each other a tangible thing. Visitors and nurses and doctors all turned and watched them pass, a look of longing on all their faces. To be loved—to be really loved—was a rare thing.
She went back into the room. Thomas lay in the same position he had been in, looking anywhere but at her.
She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at his bruised face. Beneath all the damage, she saw the beautiful man she loved. Loved. Yes. She loved this man more than she’d ever thought possible. She’d known the love of her grandparents; she’d known the love of a boy. But she’d never known that love could feel this scary and soothing at the same time.
“Please…please look at me.”
His jaw clenched, a muscle twitched in his cheek, but he wouldn’t look at her. She had no choice. She was going to use his words against him. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing. The scars on your body are evidence of Malone’s shame, not yours. They don’t define you unless you let them. They don’t own you unless you let them. They can’t change you unless you let them. This self-condemnation you’ve got, this fear you have… You’re letting him win. You’re letting him have control over you, and he isn’t even here.”
Slowly, his gaze shifted. Their eyes locked, and she tumbled into him, into his mind, into his soul. Saw the doubt inside him. Not doubt in her, but doubt about himself. Doubt that he deserved her. That he was worthy of her. He blamed himself for all her pain, his own pain, and even his sister’s pain. She witnessed his thoughts. Witnessed how he believed he should’ve killed Malone as a child, and then none of this would’ve happened. And worse, how he’d left her alone in the truck, and if he’d never done that—if he’d listened to his soul—none of this would’ve happened.
Tears of guilt and shame and regret welled in his eyes. One lonely tear slipped down his cheek. She pressed a kiss to it, tasting the salt on her tongue before putting her mouth to his. She spoke against his lips, breathing her words into him. “I regret nothing. All of it led me to you.”
She crawled into bed with him, slipping her arm under his head and holding him to her.
A pleasant warmth radiated from her center outward to all the places they touched. He kept very still but then latched onto her, squeezing her tighter and tighter and tighter until it was impossible to tell where she ended and he began.
His breath came in ragged bursts, and she felt wetness against her skin from his tears as he began talking of the horrors done to him. She wept with him, but these were good tears. Healing tears. He’d taught her that. And now he was learning the lesson.
Chapter 21
The county jail’s waiting room was empty, the space bizarrely quiet. Almost as though the entire building held its breath. Or maybe just Thomas was holding his breath. He forced himself to suck in some air and then exhale.
Helen sat beside him, her body as tense as his, but for different reasons. She stood and walked to the waiting-room doorway, peered out into the hallway, then came back, stopping in front of him.
There was no hiding how he felt about being here—not from her anyway. He wasn’t frightened or scared of what he was about to do. More like wary, vigilant, and on guard. The peace he’d found with Helen over the past few weeks was a balm to all the old and new pain.
A worry line pinched between Helen’s brows. “You don’t have to do this.”
Thomas stood, staring her in the eye so she could see the determination inside him. He slid his hand partly into the hair at her temple and used his thumb to massage the worry wrinkle away. Touching her soothed him, just as it eased her. “I want to do this. For me. For you. For my sister. For the families of the men Malone murdered.” That last word hung in the air. Malone had killed three people—Rory Ellis and the two men he’d used as bait to get Thomas out to those crime scenes.
The whole Malone mess could go to trial, but that would mean months and months of dragging out all the past pain. A trial would keep the wounds fresh and bleeding, when they all just wanted to heal and move on. Even the prosecutor wanted it over ASAP, just to end the media circus surrounding the case. The best way to package it up and put it away fast? Get Malone to confess and plead guilty.
“Malone will listen to…” He’d been about to say me but caught himself. “He’ll listen to Evan.”
When he’d first gotten home from the hospital, he’d intended to shave his head to get rid of all that hair that made him look so damn much like his father. The hair that shoved Malone over the line from seeing him as Tommy, his stepson, to seeing him as Evan, his lover. Just as he’d been about to buzz it all off, a thought had occurred him. Why not use this hair against Malone?
From the doorway, Kent cleared his throat. “Malone is ready now.”
Thomas and Helen turned to face the guy. A uniformed officer stood waiting next to Kent. Both men’s shadows were thick and white, displaying the innate goodness each possessed.
Thomas stared into Helen’s golden eyes and tried to reassure her. “I’ll be fine. And you’ll be right here when I’m done. So no matter what, I’ll still be fine.” He was trying to make a joke about them being able to heal each other, but it fell flat.
She didn’t say anything further but grabbed his hand in hers and pressed it over her heart. Underneath his palm, the strong, steady beat entered him and fortified him for what was about to come.
When he was ready, he gave her a peck on the lips, then walked toward the doorway. “Don’t leave her, Kent. Not for a minute. Not for a second. You understand me?” His voice contained a little too much force to sound like a question.
Kent’s expression was serious. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Thomas wasn’t sure how much Kent knew about the connection between him and Helen, but the guy seemed to understand the importance of keeping Helen safe. Maybe it was because Kent had seen her that day in the bathroom with a hole in her chest, gushing blood, and had recognized the miracle that had occurred.
Thomas turned his attention to the uniformed officer.
“You know the rules, right?” the officer asked.
“Yeah.” No way in hell was he about to violate any of them.
The officer led him down a hallway, then stopped outside a door to unlock, then open it.
Thomas braced his shoulders, held his head high, and walked into the room.
Malone’s shadow of death seemed less threatening today, less dark. Hell, almost subdued. The man sat at a small table. In all Thomas’s life, he’d never known Malone to be anything but freshly showered and shaven. Now, scruff fuzzed Malone’s cheeks and chin. And he smelled…like he’d gone a few days without the benefit of a shower.
Apathy dulled Malone’s features, but everything changed when he saw Thomas. A smile lit his face. A real smile. The kind that Malone never aimed at Thomas or his mom or his sister, the kind reserved only for Evan.
If Thomas didn’t know better, he might’ve been swayed by the affection on Malone’s face. It was obvious that Malone had loved Thomas’s father and the loss of his love had deeply cracked his psyche. In an odd way, Thomas almost understood. If something happened to Helen, his rage and wrath would be nearly uncontrollable. But he could never hurt a child.
A calm settled over Thomas. He pulled out a chair and sat across from Malone.
“Evan…” Malone breathed the name like a prayer.
The one funny thing about this whole situation was that despite Malone believing Thomas with colored hair was Evan, the guy was still mentally competent to stand trial. Competency rested on the ability of the defendant to recognize the difference between right and wrong. And Malone clearly recognized the difference—he just thought all his actions were justified because they were a means to an end.
“Oh, Evan. I’ve missed you. I wasn’t sure if they’d let me see you.”
Thomas had spent the past few days rehearsing what he’d say to Malone, but here in front of the man, all Thomas’s prepared words vanished. Or maybe they boiled down to one essential thing. “I need you”—he paused for effect—“to do me a favor.”
Excitement and anticipation lit Malone’s eyes. “Anything for you. For my love.”
Bile rose in Thomas’s throat, but he forced himself to look Malone in the eye. “I want you to confess. Confess all of it. Tell everyone how much you loved me and what you did in the name of love.”
Malone reached out to Thomas but only got a few inches with his hands cuffed to his waist. “I will. I will for you.” Naked love shone in Malone’s eyes. And suddenly, Thomas felt like a shithead for using that love against Malone.
Malone didn’t deserve any kindness, but Thomas settled his hands over Malone’s cuffed ones for a few moments.
That was the difference between the two of them. Thomas could forgive. But Malone couldn’t forget.
Thomas stood and walked to the door, where he paused and looked back. “Thank you. Thank you for this one gift.”
* * *
The courtroom was packed with spectators and media, but for Thomas, only two people existed. Malone and Helen. Evanee and Lathan had refused to attend. Thomas understood. They’d already found their peace. They didn’t need this. But he and Helen did—their futures rode on this.
They sat in the back row, directly behind Malone to make it nearly impossible for the man to spot them. Not that it would’ve mattered. Thomas had buzzed all the blond hair off after his meeting with Malone. His black hair had already grown out an inch. Now, Malone would likely just see him as Tommy. The boy he’d abused.
Helen tucked herself in to his side, while his arm rested across her shoulders. Her nearness soothed and strengthened. Without her, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to tolerate hearing his childhood of abuse spoken about so publicly.
In the front of the room, Malone stood and cleared his throat.
Thomas held his breath.
And then Malone started talking. He confessed his part in covering up the murder of Thomas’s father. He admitted the depth and breadth of his love for Evan Brown and his plan to punish Thomas’s mother by hurting her children. He admitted all the foul things he’d done to them.
Thomas’s face stung while he listened to his personal pain being put to words. Helen grabbed hold of his free hand and squeezed, the simple act comforting all the wild emotions flaring to life inside him.
And then Malone spoke about Rory Ellis’s murder. Helen’s body went on alert. He pulled her in tighter to him and pressed his lips to the top of her head. Across the room, Elaine Ellis sobbed quietly while Holbrook tried to comfort her.
Elaine Ellis turned in her seat, her gaze searching the space and lighting on Helen. Thomas was ready to launch out of his seat and give the woman a beatdown right here in front of everyone, but then the woman covered her heart with her hand and mouthed to Helen, I’m sorry. Forgive me.
Helen dipped her chin once in acknowledgment, then turned away and buried her face against Thomas’s chest. She didn’t sob, but he felt the wetness of her tears through his shirt. And these weren’t all tears of sadness or pain. They were ones of relief. Malone had just publicly exonerated her.
The man had destroyed so many lives because of love and hate. People always thought hate was the opposite of love, but it wasn’t. Hate was the angry, ugly side of love.
When Thomas and Helen walked out of this courtroom, they would not hate Malone. No, the man would mean nothing to either of them. He’d be nothing more than a footnote in the great adventure that was going to be their lives.
Epilogue
Christmas Eve
“Wait, wait, wait—we have to look at it with the lights off.” Helen rushed over to the overhead light. “Close your eyes.”
Thomas obeyed. Through his eyelids, bright color shone, then went dim. “Can I open them now?”
Helen slid in next to him and wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Okay. Open them.”
In the darkened room, the twinkling golden lights from their Christmas tree glowed warm and magical. They’d spent the past hour decorating the tree with ornaments from her childhood—many of them ones that she’d made as a girl. Thomas loved those the best. Maybe it made him sound sappy, but he couldn’t wait until they had a little girl of their own to make ornaments for the Christmas tree.
He’d surprised Helen with the Christmas decorations. Back when he’d moved into the house, it had felt wrong to throw away all the things that seemed to matter to the people who’d lived there. Instead, he’d packed everything up and stored it in the basement. Now he realized an unconscious part of him had been preserving Helen’s legacy.
A contented sigh slipped from her. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?”
He pulled her in tight and kissed the top of her head, inhaling the flowery scent of her shampoo. “It is,” he breathed, his voice containing an awe that he’d never expected to feel. And yet standing here in their living room, he marveled at all the beauty in his world. It all stemmed from her. Not only did she bring grace to his life, but she also brought meaning, and most importantly, she brought love. And love changed everything.
Bing bong bung. The doorbell chimed a descending tone that sounded like the prelude to the apocalypse.
Helen giggled and looked up at him. “It’s like doomsday every time someone comes to the door. It means so much to me that you didn’t change anything in the house, but we need a new doorbell.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips, grabbed her hand, and headed toward the foyer. Along the way, he flicked on the lights.
Through the foyer windows, he saw Pastor Audie and his niece on the front porch. Both were bundled up against the cold. Pastor Audie wore that same red knit winter cap with the jaunty yarn ball on the top and matching scarf wrapped around his neck. It really was like looking at Gandalf wearing modern winter gear.
Thomas’s mind flashed back to the day that seemed a lifetime ago when he’d last seen Audie—the day of his mother’s memorial service. Looking back at himself, Thomas didn’t recognize the man he’d been. He’d been so angry, suffering in his own mind from the disease of the past. He was a different man now. He had Helen in his life.
“It’s Pastor Audie and Charity.” Helen raced to the front door, unlocking it while she looked at Thomas. “He used to stop by every C
hristmas Eve on his way to candlelight services. My grandparents were good friends with him. I should’ve expected him.” She threw the door open. “Pastor Audie.” She rushed into the old man’s arms. “You came. I’ve missed you.”
The old man’s face brightened with happiness that eliminated half a century of wrinkles.
“Oh, Helena. I’ve missed you too.” He hugged her back, tears brimming in his eyes. “Your grandparents would be overjoyed to know you’re home and you’re happy.” Pastor Audie held on to her shoulders and looked her over. “They missed you desperately and never gave up on you. Even when you gave up on yourself.”
Tears filled Helen’s eyes, but she nodded and swallowed. Thomas was next to her in an instant, wrapping his arm around her, wishing he could absorb all the pain of her past but recognizing these moments were healing for her.
“Come on in.” He motioned the pair into the foyer.
Audie gestured toward his niece. “Have you met Charity? She’s my niece and my chauffeur at night.”
Helen aimed her attention at Charity. “We met…” Her voice trailed off, then she moved forward and hugged the other woman. “I’m so sorry. Last time I saw you, I wasn’t myself.”
Charity laughed and hugged her back. “Girl, it’s all good. Everything always works out exactly how it’s supposed to.” When Helen stepped back, Charity shoved a wrapped package at Helen and one at Thomas. “I made these for you. My only request is that you open them right now so I can make sure they fit.”
Thomas and Helen tore into the gifts at the same time. He found a dark-blue hat and scarf that looked exactly like Audie’s.
Helen held a sweet pink scarf and hat. She stared at them a long time as if lost in thought, then shoved the hat down on her head and wrapped the scarf around her neck. “It’s like the one you have… Exactly what I wanted.” She hugged Charity again as if they were long-lost friends. “Thank you so much.”
Thomas put his hat on too and wrapped the scarf around his neck. It was warm and fit perfectly. “It’s awesome. Thanks so much. Come on in.” He gestured toward the living room. “I’ll get you a mug of Helen’s spiced cider.”
