by C. C. Snow
Swiveling around, we see Cory Michaels standing in the doorway. He looks dead on his feet, his brown eyes dull and tired. His shirt and khakis are wrinkled and I suspect he spent the whole night at the hospital.
“Cory. God! I’m so sorry about Hannah.” She rushes up to him and pulls him into a tight hug. I curl my fingers against the impulse to drag her away from him, reminding myself that the man is hurting, but I don’t relax until they break apart.
“How is she?” Maggie asks, concern pulling down the corners of her lips.
He presses his fingers into his eye sockets. “Not good. She’s in a coma. The bastard smashed her head so hard she’s bleeding in her brain.”
“Fuck!” I utter softly. Any type of brain injury is life-threatening. And if she wakes up, there’s no guarantee that she won’t suffer long-term damage to her mind.
Maggie falls apart at the news, sobbing and shaking all over. She turns to me and muffles her wails into my chest. Her grief is tearing me apart. I hold her close, the selfish part of me glad she’s not the one in a hospital bed.
“Is there anything we can do to help, Cory?” I ask gently, noting the look of hurt on his face as he sees Maggie in my arms. Against my will, I feel a surge of sympathy for him even as I hold her closer. She’s mine now.
He shakes his head slowly. “No, but thank you for offering.” He takes a few shivering breaths, fighting for control.
Ignoring the fact that it’s not my case, I go into my cop mode and ask, “Is there anyone in your sister’s life who could have done this?” His eyes get so big, I can see the white surrounding his irises.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Since it’s an ongoing investigation, I can’t give you too many details, but we suspect the perpetrator is someone she and Maggie know personally. Do you remember anyone she might have fought with recently who would want to hurt her?”
Glassy-eyed, he shakes his head. “No. My sister is one of those people who makes friends wherever she goes.” He shrugs. “I mean, occasionally she shoots off her mouth, but I’ve never seen anyone get truly offended. I can’t imagine anyone yelling at her, let alone…” His voice cracks and he takes a second to collect himself. “Let alone hurt her physically.”
Damn. Dead end. “What about her boyfriend?”
“Cal?” He shakes his head vigorously. “No way it could be him. They hardly went anywhere without each other. Besides, he wasn’t even in town. He’s a roadie for a rock band and they’ve been on the road since last week. He’s not due back until tomorrow or he would be here.”
I withhold my opinion on a douche who puts his job ahead of his girl. “If you can think of anything, please let me know.” Awkwardly, I put my left hand in my jacket and take out my card. “Or if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” He slips it into the front pocket of his khakis.
Feeling Maggie’s trembling subside, I bend my head and whisper, “You okay, angel?”
Taking a few calming breaths, she nods and wipes her cheeks. Eyes puffy and red, she turns to Cory. “Can I see her?”
Cory shakes his head regretfully. “Only immediate family can see her.”
“I’m so sorry. I wish I could have done something to stop him.”
“Don’t, Maggie,” I say, my voice tight.
Cory’s asks, “What do you mean?”
“Maybe if I hadn’t interrupted, he wouldn’t have bashed her head in…” She trails off, a look of guilt on her face.
I know the direction of her thoughts all too well and I refuse to let her walk down this road. God knows it leads to nowhere but hell. I grasp her upper arms, trying to pull her out the morass of her dark thoughts. “No! Don’t make yourself crazy thinking about what-ifs. The perp was the one responsible for this. The only one.”
“Sean’s right, Maggie.” Cory says from behind me. “You were incredibly brave for confronting him. The only one to blame is the attacker. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Glad he is concurring with me, I unclench my hands and rub her arms. “We won’t ever know what would have happened had you not intervened.” I will her to understand and after a long moment, she inclines her head, some of the shadows receding from her eyes.
Turning back to Cory, she says, “Thanks, Cory. Are your parents here?”
“The whole Michaels clan came as soon as they heard.” He points his chin to the waiting room. “I better get back to them. I’ll tell Hannah you dropped by.”
Maggie pulls Cory into another hug. “Call me if you need anything. Even if it’s just to talk.”
“Thanks, Maggie.”
I drive to her dorm, glancing at her throughout the ride, but she looks completely checked out. I think the gravity of what could have happened to her is finally sinking in.
Word must have spread among the students because as soon as we near the entrance to the building, people start approaching Maggie, exclaiming over what happened. I stand back and scrutinize everyone who comes in contact with her, looking for anyone who exhibits unusual behavior, but they all appear to be genuinely upset by the news. I remind myself that sociopaths are the best actors, but I trust my gut and nobody is setting off any alarm bells.
On automatic pilot, she gathers her clothes and books and stuffs them in her suitcase. My pulse accelerates, thinking about having her at my apartment twenty-four seven. Surprisingly, my primary emotion is not panic—it’s anticipation. I want to have her as close to me as possible for as long as possible.
As soon as we walk in to my apartment, I nudge her toward the living room. “Let me put your suitcase upstairs and then we’ll figure out lunch.”
She nods and sits on the sofa, staring into space.
I don’t hesitate to carry her bag straight into my bedroom. No way in hell will she be staying in one of the guestrooms. I empty a couple of my drawers and put her clothes in the dresser. There’s a funny sensation in my chest at seeing her belongings in my bedroom.
After I unpack her books, I stash her suitcase at the back of the closet. When I return downstairs, she still looks dazed. Knowing she needs some time to process everything, I put in a quick order for take-out and then I sit on the sofa.
“Come here, angel,” I say gently and pick her up, settling her onto my lap. She curls up against me like a little kitten and my heart aches for the shit she’s gone through in the last twenty-four hours. I lean my cheek against her hair, offering her silent comfort.
“Why do bad things happen to good people?” she asks, sounding lost. There is no answer for one of the world’s oldest questions
“I don’t know, but Hannah’s in one of the best hospitals in the world, angel. She’ll pull through.”
She presses her face deeper into my chest and I hold her close. We stay like that until the take-out arrives. I coax her to eat the chicken salad sandwich, but she only manages a few bites before she sets it aside. It makes me ache, seeing her so listless—so unlike herself.
For the rest of the evening, she’s like a robot. She goes through the motions, but she doesn’t seem to be conscious of her surroundings.
“Maggie, do you have class tomorrow?”
It takes her a few extra beats to register my question and then she nods her head. “Yes. All day.”
“Can you take a few days off?”
She waggles her head violently. “No! I want to go back to school.”
“Okay.” I should have known she wouldn’t give herself any slack. And I suspect she wants to reclaim a sense of normalcy in her life. I kiss her head and turn her toward the stairs. “Why don’t you head off to bed? I’ll be right up.” My lips twist wryly at how easily she obeys me this time.
Making a sudden decision, I call my partner and tell him I’m taking some time off.
***
“What do you mean he has an alibi?” I shout into the phone.
“Calm down, Sean,” Leslie scolds irritably. “Ludlow said he was at the movies and the footage at the theater confirm
s he went into the show.”
“He could have gone straight to the back exit and made it back to the dorms in plenty of time.”
“Well, there was no way to prove it, so we had to let him go.”
An inhuman growl emerges from my throat. “Fuck! What about the boyfriend?”
“Out of town for work. His supervisor confirmed his story. Sorry, I know that isn’t what you wanted to hear, but we’ve hit a brick wall in the investigation. Until Hannah Michaels wakes up from her coma—God willing—we have nothing.”
“It makes me sick to think of that piece of shit out there, possibly waiting to hurt her again.”
“Me too, Sean. How’s Maggie holding up?”
I glance upstairs where Maggie has commandeered one of the guestrooms as a study. She said the smell in my bedroom was distracting. I had taken offense, but with a crooked smile, she assured me it was a good thing and I decided to give up trying to understand a woman’s mind.
“She’s still shaken up.” She hides it well, but I see the shadows in her eyes.
“That’s to be expected after something like this. She needs time.”
“Yeah.”
“I really like her.”
“She has that effect on people,” I say wryly, doubting anyone can resist Maggie’s pure spirit.
“James and I would love to have you guys over for dinner. We’d love to get to know her better.”
My muscles tense at the invitation. “I’ll check my calendar.”
“You’re full of shit,” she accuses, anger in her voice. “Why the fuck are you avoiding him, Sean? He misses you.”
I close my eyes in remorse, feeling like a piece of shit and I lash out. “That’s bullshit. I’m not avoiding him!”
“You dumbass!” she shouts and hangs up on me.
My fingers tighten on my phone and I hear the plastic crackle under the pressure. “Fucking hell!” Just the thought of seeing James makes the acid churn in my gut.
“Is everything okay?” At the small touch on the back of my neck, I feel some of the tension bleed out of me. Deliberately loosening my jaw, I look up. My heart thumps an extra beat at seeing the look of concern in her eyes. Nobody has looked at me like this for years.
“Yeah.” Pulling her down next to me, I breathe in her cinnamon scent. It feels so fucking right to have her here. She’s only been here for three days, but she’s already left her stamp in every room in the apartment. I love seeing her books scattered everywhere and her toiletries sitting next to mine in the bathroom. “That was Leslie. She says Ludlow is clear. He was supposedly at the movies.”
“Oh no! Poor Josh.” Her face contorts with remorse. “I shouldn’t have mentioned his name to Leslie. I feel so bad.”
“You did the right thing. We need to follow every trail and I’m not convinced he’s innocent.” I explain my theory to her and before I even finish, she’s wagging her head at me.
“No, that’s far-fetched. He’s innocent and you’re paranoid.”
“I am not! You’re too naïve.”
“Just because I believe in the best of people doesn’t mean I’m naïve.”
I narrow my eyes at the obstinate look on her face. “Maggie, don’t even think about going near Ludlow.”
“I wasn’t planning to. And stop ordering me around!” She scoots away from me and folds her arms over her chest.
Kneeling on the floor, I put my hands on her knees and look into her set face. “Maggie, listen to me. If it’s not Ludlow, then we have no idea who the attacker is.” I hate to see fear filling her eyes, but I need her stubborn ass to understand the seriousness of the situation. “This guy is dangerous. He knows you. He’s probably pissed you interrupted whatever sick plans he had for Hannah. I don’t care if you stay angry with me for the rest of your life, but I’m going to do what I need to do to keep you safe. And that means everyone in your life is suspect until we catch this guy. So can you please help me out and not fight me when I ask you to do something for your own safety?” Terror seeps into my blood, thinking about something happening to her.
Several emotions cross her face lighting fast before she throws her arms around me and hugs me close. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be careful.”
I crush her to me, unable to ignore that little prickle of premonition that she’s in danger.
Chapter Eighteen
Maggie
“Stuck-up bitch.” The virulent whisper is right in my ear. The venom in the words penetrates into my skull, sending terror through my body.
A rough hand yanks on my hair, jerking my head back painfully.
I scream, but there’s no sound coming out of my mouth. I take a deep breath, hoping air will help my vocal chords work, but his hand cuts off my oxygen.
“Help! Help me!” But the screams are in only in my head. The world around me is eerily silent except for the heavy breathing of the man behind me. Tears are blinding me, but it doesn’t matter because it’s pitch black.
His arm is a steel band around my torso, squeezing me so hard I feel like my arms will snap.
“You’re going to be begging for it by the end, you little cunt.” He pulls harder on my hair, sending a million needles into my scalp. My sob is muffled completely by his palm.
I kick out with my legs and try to free my arms, but he’s immovable. His hand gropes my breast roughly and my stomach heaves.
This can’t be happening.
Terror and lack of air are weakening my muscles. He must have felt it because he starts to lower me to the floor.
Oh my God!
As I land on my side, a spotlight suddenly flicks on, shining on a prone figure.
I stare into the lifeless brown eyes, still holding the echoes of the horrors she’s been through.
Hannah!
Screaming, I lunge awake, my body violently jolting upright. Cold sweat streaks down my neck and back. I wheeze, fighting to draw air into my deprived lungs.
“Maggie!” Sean awakens at the same instant I do, his hands grasping the balls of my shoulders. “Fuck, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I press the heel of my palm against my damp forehead, hoping to drive the last fragments of the nightmare away. “Just a bad dream.” I look at the clock and sardonically note that it’s three in the morning—the perfect hour to have a nightmare. Willing my breathing to even out, I take a few shuddering breaths and remind myself it’s only a dream.
Sean turns on the bedside lamp, the light driving away the shadows of the room and the darkness in my mind. Scooting his back against the headboard, he holds out his arms and I wrap myself around him, my head on his bare chest and my left leg over his hard thigh. I let myself sink into his warmth, letting his solid mass anchor me to reality.
“Want to talk about it?” His voice rumbles under my ear.
I shake my head and close my eyes. I know I’m acting like an ostrich with its head buried in the sand, but I don’t want to relive my nightmare. It’s been ten days since the attack and this is the fourth time I’ve had the recurring dream. Each time, I jerk awake when I see my friend’s blank eyes.
Hannah’s condition has stabilized, but to give her brain more time to heal, the doctors have put her in an induced coma. Visitors are now allowed and I go see her several times a week. As a precaution, there’s an armed police guard on duty during visiting hours.
I bumped into Calvin once at the hospital and I was glad I promised Sean I wouldn’t go anywhere by myself. Uncomfortable under his unwavering gaze, I had stayed close to Todd’s side until we left.
Sean took a week off from work and escorted me to and from school. He ignored my protests and secretly, I was relieved. I insisted he return to work this past week, knowing he’s in the middle of a few critical cases, but I miss the sense of absolute security I feel when he’s with me.
I thought I would recover quickly from what happened, but the trauma lingers in ways I never expected. I hate the dark now; I don’t like to go out at night. Paranoia
creeps into my everyday life and I feel like there are eyes watching me constantly. Yesterday, I almost jumped out of my skin when Todd tapped me on my shoulder to get my attention.
I hate it. I hate how the attacker has affected my life. And the worst part is not knowing when things can return to normal because there have been no more leads on the case.
Sean’s lips graze my hairline. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
“Thanks.” I tilt my head to look at his face. Cobalt blue eyes regard me with concern and I can’t resist stretching my neck to give him a kiss on his jaw. I break away and press my nose into his deltoid, wishing I could absorb his delicious scent into the pores of my skin. It’s still hard for me to believe we’re together.
Living with Sean feels…right. I thought there would be an adjustment period where we would get on each other’s nerves, but our lives seem to mesh seamlessly. We share many of the same tastes in music, movies and books and when we disagree, we both love the exhilaration of trying to persuade the other to our own views.
Sharing stories about our day, sharing our physical space, sharing our bodies—all of it seems so natural. It’s almost too perfect and a part of me dreads the moment when I will have to move back to the dorms.
The main source of friction between us is Cael. Although neither of us has expressed a wish to reveal our relationship, there’s an undercurrent of strain whenever my brother’s name crops up in our conversations. I hate having to lie to my brother when he calls, but I can’t overcome my fear of Sean picking their friendship over our budding relationship.
My insistence on hiding the attack from my brother is an additional point of contention between us. After we found out the case was stalled, Sean was ready to tell Cael about the assault, but I had begged and pleaded to keep it a secret. Only after a loud and prolonged argument did he reluctantly give in. I just know in my gut that if I told my brother, everything would fall apart—my goals, my independence, my future with Sean.
Sean’s fingers play in my curls, drawing me back to the present. I sigh in contentment at his affectionate gesture. This is a side of himself he doesn’t show in public. I understand his restraint since one tabloid photo of us kissing in public will have Cael on our doorstep, breathing fire, but I also suspect Sean doesn’t like to show his vulnerability to others. It’s only when we’re alone that he lets his guard down, holding me close to him whenever possible.
