Allie shrugged. “That’s the thing. They haven’t caught him yet. He’s still out there somewhere.”
Johnny let out a low whistle. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah, I know. And what if he didn’t just want to kill the parents? What if he wanted the girls, too? Or what if the girls saw him the night their parents were killed and now he’s after them? I mean, it wouldn’t be hard for him to get our phone number. Or figure out where we live.” She shuddered, hearing the words leave her mouth.
“Come here,” Johnny said, patting the mattress in front of him.
Reluctantly she lay down on her side and let him pull her close. This time she didn’t cringe. This time his closeness to her comforted her a little.
They lay in silence, their bodies pressed together for several minutes. Johnny’s arms felt safe; she felt protected. She’d always longed for that feeling from a man, but she hadn’t felt it with Johnny for some time. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she could make the relationship with Johnny work after all. Maybe she was being too tough on him, and he could change. Maybe—
She felt him easing down her sweatpants.
She jerked away from him. “Johnny, don’t.”
“Shh,” he whispered. “It’ll make you feel better. I promise.”
“For heaven’s sake, Sammy’s right there!” she hissed.
“Then let’s go somewhere else. How about the laundry room?”
It’s what she’d taught him to expect. That when he visited he would at least get a quickie. In the laundry room. In the woods, in his truck.
“I said no, Johnny!” she said. “Can’t you take a freaking hint? My God, I’ve been hinting all day!”
The desire vanished from his eyes. He sat up in the bed. “Seriously? After I drove all the way out here?”
“Yes, seriously. And lower your voice.”
“May I ask you why?”
Anger flared in her belly. “I wouldn’t even know where to freaking start.”
CHAPTER 9
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, everyone but Allie was sleeping peacefully. She was on one side of the bed, with Piglet and Johnny curled up on the other side.
In the darkness, she quietly climbed out of bed, then walked through the house making sure that all of the doors and windows were still locked. She knew that it wasn’t logical to keep checking, but it made her feel better.
She went to the girls’ bedroom door and listened for movement on the other side. But she heard only silence. She studied the space between the carpet and the bottom of the door for a line of light that would indicate someone was awake. There wasn’t one.
She hesitated, wondering if she should go in. She didn’t want to invade the girls’ privacy, but what if they’d opened their window? She couldn’t be too cautious. She quietly pushed the door open and went inside. Moonlight streamed in from the window, bathing the room in murky light, casting dark shadows on the walls.
She crept across the room and checked to see if the window was locked. It was. She let her eyes adjust and searched for the girls in the darkness. After a moment, she could see outlines of their bodies on the bottom bunk. They were huddled together and seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
Next she went to Bitty’s room. She knew that the woman had been up earlier that evening, somewhere between Allie seeing the truck and receiving the phone call from the breather. She’d heard her moving around, the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen. She’d also heard the woman’s voice a few times, which meant that she’d been talking to someone, so it was likely the girls had been up, too.
Allie slipped inside Bitty’s bedroom and checked the window.
Locked.
Good.
Before leaving the room, she studied Bitty in her bed. For once, the woman was too exhausted to rattle around the house all night like she usually did. But it was a relief to see her getting some well-deserved sleep.
In the kitchen, Allie grabbed one of the dining room chairs to stand on, opened a high cabinet above the fridge, and retrieved a bottle of vodka. She poured three generous shots into a small glass and added a splash of olive juice. Once the chair was tucked back in its place, she turned off the overhead light, bathing the kitchen in complete darkness, and made her way to the kitchen table. She placed her drink on the table and slid the window open a little to enjoy the chilly air.
She sat and took a sip of her drink, enjoying the bloom of heat as it slid down her throat.
Ahhh.
Allie drank only late at night, when the house was quiet. Though life had improved immensely, and she had become much stronger, the constant fear that had become a permanent part of her was still sometimes too much to handle without some kind of release.
She needed a way to forget for a few minutes . . . to become numb . . . and the vodka did the job. For a few hours, the alcohol would dull the pain that inflamed her mind. The memories of childhood terror and coldness. Her mother’s cruelty. The bad decisions Allie had made both before and after her brother’s death. The person she used to be, who still lurked somewhere inside of her.
As she stared out at the chilly darkness of the yard and the encroaching woods, she felt the alcohol hit her bloodstream. The thoughts flashing in her head slowed to a manageable crawl.
She would talk with Bitty in the morning and let her know about the second phone call. Bitty would console her. She’d convince her that there was nothing to worry about. She’d say that someone had simply gotten the number wrong and had tried twice to reach whomever they were trying to call. She’d also explain away the appearance of the truck by saying that another person, someone not connected to the phone calls, had simply gotten lost—although Allie couldn’t remember it ever happening before.
Bitty would say that there was absolutely no connection between the calls and the truck.
They were simply coincidences.
That Allie was just being paranoid.
Something in the yard snapped. Allie tensed. She stared out, straining her ears to listen, but the night was still. She waited quietly for another sound, but it didn’t come.
After a while, she relaxed. Of course you heard something, silly, she told herself. A bird. Deer. Raccoon, a squirrel. Relax. Seriously. There are literally a hundred things it could’ve been. Stop being so paranoid.
Her thoughts shifted to the twins and the terror they’d just experienced. Their parents had been killed on Tuesday night . . . only two miles away. What had she been doing on Tuesday night, the very moment it was happening, she wondered. She thought of how hopelessly sad, confused, and lost the girls must be feeling right now, and felt a lump in her throat.
Stop thinking about them, she told herself, taking a long pull of her drink. You already have enough to worry about.
She stared out the window and suddenly shivered. But it wasn’t from the cold air trickling in through the window.
It was from an acute sense of being watched.
She swiftly pushed out of her chair and crouched down in front of the window. Her eyes darted back and forth as she checked the yard for movement and studied the tree line. But again, she saw nothing but shadows and trees swaying in the wind. She listened so hard her ears began to ache, but heard nothing odd.
Nails clicked against the wood floor in the distance. Piglet had woken up and was looking for her. The dog walked up to Allie and made grunting sounds like a piglet, hence her name.
Allie looked out at the yard one last time, then lowered the window and locked it. She picked up Piglet, and carried her back to the bedroom. A few moments later, she was beneath the covers again. She closed her eyes and eventually found sleep.
Johnny bolted upright in bed. “What the hell is that?” he asked, his voice husky with sleep.
Carrie was screaming again. Allie jumped out of bed and rushed to the girls’ bedroom, but as she neared it, she saw Zoe dart out and run toward the living room. Allie tailed her and flipped on the light. Carrie was standing in t
he middle of the big room. Her screams were so loud and shrill, they seemed to vibrate in Allie’s bones.
Zoe stood frozen a few feet away, her hands clamped against her ears. She walked around in little circles, humming loudly.
Allie heard Johnny’s voice behind her. “Holy Jesus. Is she awake?”
Allie wasn’t sure. After a brief hesitation, she went to Carrie and wrapped her arms tightly around her. “Shhh . . . Carrie, it’s okay,” she said, emulating what Bitty had done the night before. “Calm down. Shhh. You’re safe.”
But Carrie kept screaming.
“Holy shit,” Johnny said, running his fingers through his hair.
Allie searched past him and saw Sammy, in his Lego Movie pajamas, staring wide-eyed at the screaming girl.
“Take Sammy back to the bedroom . . . please!” she said to Johnny.
After Johnny and Sammy disappeared, Allie turned back to Carrie and held her a little tighter. She could feel the girl’s delicate little ribs, her heart pounding beneath them. “Shhh. It’s going to be okay,” she said again, having no idea if it actually would be, but not knowing what else to say.
Eventually, the screaming stopped and Carrie went limp in her arms. As the girl sobbed against her shoulder, Allie felt something stir inside of her. A warm . . . pleasant . . . feeling.
Zoe rushed in to take her place, and Allie was surprised to find herself a little reluctant to step away.
Hugging Carrie, Zoe said, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.”
Allie watched Zoe embrace her sister until she again had the strong sense she was being watched.
That they all were.
She stared at the sliding glass doors. But all she could see was her reflection, with the twins, standing in the living room.
“Here, honey. Take a drink,” said Bitty, her eyelids heavy, walking in with a glass of ice water. She handed it to Carrie.
The skin on her arms prickling, Allie went to the sliding glass doors, cupped her hands against the glass, and peered out. But aside from a few leaves drifting across the deck, carried by a strong wind, she couldn’t see anything.
As Zoe and Bitty led Carrie back to the twins’ bedroom, Allie went to her own bedroom to check on Sammy. She heard the bed shift in the darkness.
“Holy hell. This place is a freaking circus,” Johnny said, sounding exasperated.
It was one thing he and Allie could agree on.
“Is Carrie okay, Mommy?” Sammy asked from the darkness.
The sky lit up outside the window behind him. Lightning. Yet another storm was on the horizon.
“Yes, I think so. She’s just very sad,” Allie said.
“I no like her be sad.”
“I don’t either, honey. Stay here with Daddy. I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Okay.”
Allie walked into the hallway in time to see Bitty pulling the girls’ bedroom door closed.
“She okay?” Allie asked.
“For now,” Bitty replied. “You hanging in there?” she asked, fully aware of what loud noises did to her since her brother’s suicide.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I saw what you did for Carrie,” the woman said. “I’m proud of you. I know how difficult intimacy can be for you.”
But Allie didn’t deserve the praise. She wasn’t as proud as Bitty seemed to be of her, because she was pretty sure it had been the alcohol that had allowed her to relax enough to reach out to Carrie.
“I’m sorry, but these girls aren’t going to be easy, Allie. And I’m sure this won’t be the last of Carrie’s night terrors.” She looked inquisitively at Allie, as though searching for feedback. To maybe give Allie the chance to ask her to make the girls leave . . . to be placed with another foster home.
But Allie wouldn’t—couldn’t—do that. These girls needed help, and Bitty was the best foster parent for the job. There was no way Allie could deny them that.
Besides, she felt a connection to Carrie. To both girls.
“That’s okay. We’ll get through it,” Allie said.
“Are you sure?” Bitty asked. “Because you and Sammy are my first priorities. If the girls become too much, I want you to tell me—
“I will. I promise.”
But Allie wasn’t so sure her promise was good.
Bitty studied her for a moment. “I’m going to need a little help with these two. I’d never ask you if I didn’t absolutely need it. Again, if it’s too much—”
Allie heard herself say: “I’d be happy to. Anything I can do, I’ll do it. Seriously.”
Bitty’s weary face broke into an exhausted smile. “Good. Thank you.”
“Have you noticed Carrie’s arms?” Allie gestured to the inside of one of her arms just above the elbows.
Bitty nodded sadly.
“She’s cutting, isn’t she?”
“I’m afraid so. I’m hoping the counseling will do her some good. Both of them.”
Allie nodded.
Bitty hugged Allie, then, after a long moment, pulled away. “I love you. Now go get some rest.”
A feeling of joy still shot through her every time Bitty told her she loved her. It wasn’t every day, but it was fairly frequent—and far more often than her biological mother had said it. In fact, she couldn’t remember her biological mother telling her that, even one time. What she could clearly recall, though, were the times she’d told her she was ugly and worthless.
Back in bed, Allie let the gravity of her conversation with Bitty sink in. So much for not getting involved, she thought.
As Allie tried to find sleep again, she realized her skin was still vibrating from touching the fragile girl. She recalled the way Carrie’s little heart had been hammering in her small chest, and something stirred inside of her again. She wondered if she’d really helped Carrie to calm down. If she’d somehow made her feel a little bit safer. Even for just that instant.
Allie realized that she’d agreed to make her world a little bigger, but instead of feeling apprehensive, it felt as though the knot in her stomach had unfurled a little bit. As though helping with the girls was exactly the thing she was meant to do.
But then, she reminded herself again, it could just be the vodka talking. She was fully aware that she could wake up in the morning and regret it all. Hoping that wouldn’t be the case, she smiled a little in the darkness and closed her eyes.
As she drifted off, she wondered what she’d just gotten herself into.
CHAPTER 10
ALLIE AWOKE SLOWLY, taking a mental inventory of what day it was and what had happened the day before.
It was Monday, the only day of the week she worked from the wellness center. The rest of the week she worked from home. Sammy would be going to preschool for the day, like he did every weekday. The girls were still at the house. Carrie had had another night terror last night. Johnny—
Oh, God.
Johnny.
Is he still here?
Opening her eyes, she turned to find Johnny still lying on the other side of the bed, sound asleep. She groaned. She blinked at Piglet, who lay on her back, her spindly legs pointed toward the ceiling. Her front paws stabbed at the air; she was running in her dream. Allie looked down at the cot and realized Sammy was gone.
She shot upright.
Almost without exception, when Sammy woke up before her, he waited in bed quietly, playing a game on the iPad or with his minifigures. It was rare for him to leave the room by himself before she woke up.
She scrambled out of bed and hurried down the hallway. The living room was empty. The kitchen was empty, too. She could both smell and hear coffee brewing, but where was everybody? Adrenaline flooded her veins.
Where’s Sammy?
Catching movement in the backyard, she rushed to the sliding glass doors and quickly zeroed in on her little boy. He was just on the deck. A few feet from him, Bitty walked around, tending plants. Allie exhaled loudly.
Christ, you’re going to end up g
iving yourself a heart attack! Relax. Stop being so overprotective.
Willing her pulse to slow to a normal pace, Allie pressed a palm to the cold glass of the sliding doors and watched her son play. Already in his school clothes, he was lining up Marvel minifigures on one of the deck’s wooden railings.
Zoe was in the oversized coat she’d arrived in, standing a few feet away from him. Her lips were turned down, and she was squinting up at the gray autumn sky. Carrie sat, stone-like, in a deck chair, her eyes squeezed shut. She was clutching the stuffed bear she’d arrived with, holding it tight to her chest.
Through the glass, Allie could hear the slap slap of Bitty’s flip-flops, the shoes the woman wore year-round. The sound soothed Allie because it was so familiar. After a life full of unknowns and inconsistency, familiarity was comforting.
Bitty always took the foster kids outside as much as possible. She said that they needed fresh air, a chance for their bodies to produce vitamin D. She also didn’t like for them to sleep late very often. She said oversleeping and a lack of routine fostered depression, something a lot of the kids were already suffering from to various degrees. So she rarely let them sleep past eight in the morning, and she made sure their days had structure.
Allie opened the sliding door and hugged her body against the cool fall air. “Good morning.”
Bitty looked up and smiled. “Good morning, sweetheart.”
The girls both glanced up at her, their faces impassive. Carrie’s eyes looked almost swollen shut from her crying jag the night before.
Sammy saw Allie and his face lit up. “Mommy!” he shouted and ran to her as though he hadn’t seen her in days.
When he reached her, she lifted him off the ground and kissed his cool cheek. “Good morning, sweet boy.”
“Good morning, Mommy! Look what I do!” He wiggled to get down, then ran to his minifigures. “Mommy! Look what I do!” Sammy shouted again, pointing at his toys. “I orgorize them into good guys and bad guys. See?”
“You did that all by yourself?”
He nodded, beaming.
“Good job, honey! You’re a great organizer.”
Don't Say a Word (Strangers Series) Page 5
