Betraying Innocence

by Phoenix, Airicka

  Mrs. Ramirez ran out of her room then, phone clutched in her hand. “They’re on their way.”

  “Ana.” Her father took a step forward, hand extended. “Give me the bat.”

  She’d forgotten all about the thing. She gave it to him, shaking all over as horror replaced her anger. Oh God, she’d attacked someone. She was going to jail.

  Her gaze swung to Mrs. Ramirez. “I … I’m so sorry. I don’t … I didn’t…”

  Mrs. Ramirez wasn’t listening. Her gaze was fixed on her husband, her face set. She reminded Ana of Michael in that moment, so fragile, but so determined.

  “You have nothing to be sorry about,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “You did what I haven’t had the courage to do for years.” She raised her head and looked at Ana. “I should have been the one protecting my family, but I was so scared of him. I didn’t think I would be strong enough and I knew he would hurt the children if I…” She licked her lips, the gesture unsteady. “You need to leave.”

  Ana started. “What?”

  Her father shook his head. “Heather, that isn’t necessary—”

  Mrs. Ramirez stopped them both with a sharp shake of her head. “I won’t let either of you take the fall for this.”

  “But I’m the one—”

  “No, you’re not!” she said sharply, her blue eyes glittered like gems in the semi darkness. “You were never here.” She snatched the bat from Richard’s hand. “Now go!”

  Her father touched Ana’s arm, nudging her out of her stupor and propelling her towards the stairs. His gaze remained fixed on Mrs. Ramirez.

  “There’ll be questions…”

  She nodded. “I’ll handle it. Go!”

  “Rafe…” Ana turned to look at his still form.

  “I’ll take care of him, as I should have been doing all these years.”

  After getting her mother from the twin’s room, her father led them back through the yards to their house just as the spinning blue and red lights shattered the night.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Ana

  “The doctors say he’ll be fine,” Mrs. Ramirez said when Ana and her parents met her at the hospital later that night. “Both of them,” she added with a sad little smile. “But Dan will need a few more days before he’s taken into custody.”

  Ana broke into a wide grin. “So he’s getting arrested?”

  The other woman shrugged. “The sheriff wants to question him once he wakes up, but Rafe’s wounds and my story are enough to collaborate what I told the sheriff. He assures me that Dan won’t be released for a while. I still have to testify, but … I know he won’t be coming back.” A small grin curled her lips. “Those were some really good swings.”

  Ana laughed, although she didn’t feel very happy about it. “Five years of little league.”

  “It shows.” Mrs. Ramirez’s smile faded. “Thank you, Ana. I … you saved his life. I can’t even think of what might have happened if you hadn’t shown up. He would have killed Rafe this time. I’m sure of it and I…” She broke off, rolling her eyes heavenward as they glistened with unshed tears. “It would have been my fault. I knew what Dan was like. I should have left him the first time he raised a hand to me. I should have left when Rafe started throwing himself between us and him. If anything had happened to him tonight…”

  “Hey.” Ana’s mom stepped forward and enveloped the blonde in a fierce embrace. “Everything is okay now.”

  Mrs. Ramirez shook her head, tears streaking down her cheeks. “I should have been the one protecting him.”

  “It’s over now,” Ana’s mom said soothingly. “You and the kids are safe.”

  “And I owe it to you guys.” She smiled wetly at each of them. “Thank you.”

  Choked by the lump in her throat, Ana just nodded. She bit her lip until the burn of tears had been subdued before attempting to speak.

  “Can I see him?”

  Mrs. Ramirez nodded, stepping aside to let her pass. “He was awake when I was in there.”

  He was still awake when Ana slipped through the door and into the dimly lit room. He lay propped against several pillows, a knitted blanket thrown over his legs. There was an IV hooked into his arm and a heart monitor beeping above his head, but he looked okay despite the thick, purple ring circling his neck.

  His brown eyes dropped from the ceiling and fixed on her. When he spoke, his voice was cracked and hoarse like he’d spent the night screaming at a KISS concert.

  “Hey.”

  She padded over to the bed and took the hand closest to her. “Hey, how are you?”

  “Throat’s sore,” he rasped. “Mom told me what you did…”

  “I’m sorry.”

  His eyebrow lifted. “For saving my life?”

  “For not getting there sooner,” she replied seriously.

  He snorted, raising his free hand to her cheek. “Wish I could have seen it. Mom said you were amazing.”

  She captured his other hand and dropped her gaze. “I was crazy. I wanted to kill him.”

  “A broken arm, two shattered ribs, a broken nose and a fractured knee … you came close. Oh, let’s not forget getting his ass handed to him by a hundred pound girl. I like that part best of all.”

  She laughed. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I was so scared when…” She sobered. “How’re the twins?”

  His smile faded as well. “Shaken up, but I think now that Dan’s out of our lives, they’ll be fine.”

  “So your mom’s pressing charges?”

  “And filing for a divorce.” He squeezed her fingers. “You saved more than my life tonight, Rosa.”

  “You would have done the same for me,” she murmured. “Lord knows you’ve thrown yourself into more than one of my fights. Hell, you took on a ghost for me.”

  He laughed and broke off in a fit of coughs. The heart monitor beeped erratically while he tried to calm the fits. Ana reached for the glass of water next to the bed and pressed it into his hand. He took several sips before it settled. She took the cup from him and replaced it on the nightstand.

  “When will they discharge you?”

  He shrugged. “They want to keep me overnight for observation.” He rolled his eyes. “Hate hospitals.”

  “I can stay with you … if you want,” she volunteered.

  He turned his head on the pillow to peer at her with those heart-melting eyes of his. He squeezed her fingers. “I want.”

  It was late afternoon when Ana stirred from her curled up position against Rafe’s chest. She squinted against the hot-white light spilling through the giant windows, inflaming the blindingly white room with its harsh glow. She pushed upright, jerking down the sheets tangled around her legs. Rafe was still sleeping soundly, his head turned away from her on the pillow. She slipped off the hospital bed and stretched her stiff muscles, wondering why they called it a bed when it felt like sleeping on a slab of cardboard on concrete.

  She checked her watch, groaning at how late it was. Not that she had anywhere to be, but she’d never in her life slept past one in the afternoon, not even when she was sick. It felt strange knowing half the day was already gone and she was just waking up.

  Achy and moody, she shuffled out of the room in search of food. The hospital was bustling with activity at that hour. Nurses and doctors rushed all over the place. People went in and out of rooms, visiting loved ones with baskets of flowers and balloons. She wondered if she should get something for Rafe. It was what couples did, right?

  Mulling it over, she made her way to the first floor and the cafeteria. She grabbed two sandwiches, two bags of chips and two sodas before making her way to the elevators once more. Her gaze landed on the sign pointing the way to the gift shop and she rerouted her direction and followed.

  A whole lot of pink and blue greeted her from the shelves. Stuffed animals leered down at her, congratulating her on her new bundle of joy. T-shirts with the hospital name and logo hung from racks. Snow globes with storks carrying b
undles of pink and blue lined the front counter. Ana exhaled.

  “Can I help you with something?”

  Ana turned to face the tiny man sitting on an equally tiny stool behind the counter. He was so short, it was a surprise he could see over the counter.

  “I’m kind of looking for something for my…” She faltered as she realized the word she was about to use, a word she’d never really used in the past. The three hour long relationship she’d had with Thomas Maywood back in the third grade when they’d sworn to love each other forever didn’t count. “Boyfriend.”

  A grin tugged on her lips as it finally clicked that yes, Rafe was her boyfriend. Her grin deepened and her blush blossomed when the man chuckled.

  “We have some balloons…” He pointed to a carousal filled with colorful balloons waiting to be filled by the helium tank behind it.

  Ana shook her head, wrinkling her nose. “He’s not really the balloons sort.”

  “A bear then?”

  Ana started to laugh and decline when raised voices from the hospital foyer drew her attention. She turned to watch as four orderlies scrambled into the room carting a fifth person between them. They were having a hell of a time as the man yelled and fought against them.

  “Get your filthy hands off me!”

  Ana gasped as she recognized the figure. All thoughts of gift buying vanished as she dropped her things and sprinted after the group.

  “Wait!” she called.

  They stopped, even the man in the middle ceased his struggling to face her.

  “Sweetheart, this isn’t the time—”

  She ignored the man. “Do you remember me?” she asked the man in the middle. “We met—”

  “I know who you are!” the man snapped. “You’re the girl in the house … his house.”

  A slow trickle of ice formed in her veins. “Yes, please, I need to talk to you—”

  “Then book a time in the psych ward!” one of the orderlies said. “Because that’s where he’s headed.”

  The thrashing and ruckus started all over again as they fought to drag the man down the hall.

  “What’s your name? Wait!” She ran after them. “Tell me your name!”

  “Randy Dicen!”

  “No!” Rafe said when Ana told him what happened. “You’re not going to see him alone.”

  “I’ll be fine!” she argued. “He’s in a psych ward for crying out loud.”

  His eyebrows went up in shocked disbelief. “Only in a psych ward? Really? Well, all right then. It’s not like that’s where the crazy people go!” His voice rose until he was shouting. He broke off in a fit of coughing.

  Ana rolled her eyes at his exaggeration as she passed him a cup of water. “We’ll be surrounded by orderlies and doctors. Nothing can happen.”

  “Except him stabbing you with the prison shank he’s no doubt carving right now out of a toothbrush.”

  She stared at him in frustration. “No more crime novels for you.”

  “I’m serious, Ana. Wait for me. I’ll be discharged in a few hours.”

  “But by then visiting hours will be over and we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

  “Fine. I’ll drive you in the morning. Just don’t go by yourself.”

  Exasperated, Ana hopped off the bed and paced. “We’re running out of time!” she cried.

  “Whose time?” he shot back. “Yours or Johnny’s?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “A lot!” He yanked back the covers and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. “You’ve become obsessed with the guy. It’s not safe!”

  “I’m the only one who can help him!”

  “Or get killed because of him.” He got to his feet. “Have you stopped to think just what you’re up against, Ana? These guys have gotten away with murder once. What is stopping them from doing it again to you?”

  “All the more reason why I have to do this. I have to stop them!”

  “No you don’t!” He pitched the water glass. It shattered into a million pieces of shiny shards of glass across the floor. Water rained down the wall in streaks to form a puddle for the splinters to float in. “You’re going to get killed, Ana.” He was breathing hard. Sweat glistened across his brow, plastering his hair to his temples. “He’s going to get you killed.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Ana

  Randy Dicen was sitting at a round table in the corner of a dull room full of shuffling, blank-faced men and women. Other tables were scattered throughout, some occupied by patients doing puzzles, but most were empty. Ana ignored everyone as she crossed to where Dicen sat, watching the room with a mute expression. His watery, bloodshot eyes found Ana and a bushy eyebrow lifted.

  “I didn’t think you’d come,” he said.

  She stopped, keeping the table between them. “May I?”

  He shrugged. “I’m crazy. I don’t think I have a say in where anyone sits.”

  Ana drew out the chair and sat. “I don’t know if you’re crazy or not, but I need to know about Johnny Baits.”

  Something flashed behind his eyes, something dark and angry. “What makes you think I know a thing about that?”

  Ana sighed, rolling her eyes. “Please don’t play that game with me. I know the him you’re always talking about is Johnny. I also know that you, Peter Carrick and Philip Andrews were the ones who killed him on Halloween twenty-nine years ago. I want to know why and I want to know where you buried his body.”

  Dicen leaned back, unfurling his legs beneath the table. “You sure demand a lot for someone who has nothing to offer in exchange.”

  Ana frowned. “You killed that boy in cold blood. Don’t you want to make, I don’t know, amends for that? Don’t you think he deserves a proper burial or for his family to finally get some answers?”

  The look in Dicen’s eyes was bored disinterest. “Sweetie, nothing in this world is for free. People live with the crap they’re dealt and move on. Besides, what’s it to you anyway?”

  “Because I promised Johnny I would help him find those responsible.”

  That seemed to spark something. Dicen’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean promised him?”

  “Exactly what I said,” she replied evenly. “He’s still in that house. He’s been chasing away owners for years because they didn’t know how to help him, but I do.”

  “And how do you plan on doing that? You have no proof.”

  Ana slammed a hand down on the table, her frustration finally reaching its snapping point. “You’re a bastard!” she hissed. “A sick, evil bastard. You killed that boy, took his life and you don’t even have the decency to right the wrong you committed. Your life is already over. I mean, look at you.” She let her gaze roam over him in disgust. “You’re a mess, a drunk, worthless mess locked away in a nuthouse. What have you done with the life you stole, because this life you’re living isn’t yours? It’s Johnny’s. You took it the minute you ended him and what do you have to show for it?” She shoved back her chair and got to her feet. “Peter may have been a coward, but at least he felt enough remorse to kill himself for what he did.”

  Spinning on her heels, she started through the room towards the doors.

  “Hey!” She ignored his shout. “Girl!”

  She stopped and turned.

  He rubbed a hand over his face. “Come back. I’ll tell you.”

  She had half a mind to just leave. Instead, her feet were moving back to the table and she regained her seat.

  “Everything!” she said.

  Dicen nodded. He drummed his fingers along the table. “I haven’t told anyone this. That night feels like a horrible dream sometimes. Then I wake up and look around and … I realize it wasn’t. I don’t know how the others managed to cope with it. Peter went on to become a lawyer and, fuck, Philip became the fucking mayor.” He shook his head. “For weeks afterwards, I could scarcely get out of bed. I kept seeing Johnny’s body just lying there in this massive puddle of blood. I didn’t e
ven know a person could bleed that badly from a few kicks and punches. It wasn’t until I bent down to check that I realized Philip had stabbed him with the hunting knife his dad had given him for his seventeenth birthday. Some kind of family heirloom. It was passed down through his family for generations. It probably went to Vincent on his seventeenth. Philip had bragged about the stupid thing for days after he got it.” His hand was shaking as he wiped the back across his mouth. He stared, unblinking across the table like he was seeing it all over again.

  “What happened that night?” Ana murmured softly.

  Dicen’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “It started with the party. Every kid in town knew that Johnny’s parents would be away for that Halloween weekend. It was supposed to be the party of the century.” He gave a snort. “I doubt any of us knew how true that would be. We all got dressed up and hit Philip’s dad’s liquor cabinet before making our way to the party. Sober-Philip was nothing compared to drunk-Philip. He was always mean, but when he drank, Lord help the fool who got in his path. That night, Johnny caught his line of vision.”

  “Because of Kristen.”

  Watery eyes rose up and met hers. A sad smile twisted his lips. “Every boy wanted Kristen, but no one was stupid enough to actually go for it, not when Philip had already set claim to her. She was supposed to be his, even if she didn’t know about it or agree. Kirsten wanted Johnny and Johnny wanted Kristen. Really, it should have ended there. It was a love story already in the making. But Philip was never taught how to lose and that night he had set out to win Krissie one way or another.”

  “He wrote the letter for Johnny to meet him in the basement,” Ana remembered from her vision.

  Dicen nodded. “Philip watched them all evening, watched them dancing and laughing and we knew it was only a matter of time before he hit the roof. We were pretty drunk from what we took from his dad’s cabinet plus whatever someone had poured into the punch bowl so we were feeling pretty rowdy and ready for a fight ourselves. When he wrote the letter and had some freshman take it to Johnny … we were all kind of excited about the prospect of a tussle. Things didn’t get out of control until the basement. We were all under the impression that Philip would kick his ass a little and we’d all return to the party. No big deal. We didn’t even know Philip had brought his knife until it was in his hand with Johnny’s blood on it.” He dropped his face into his hands.