Fuck … Does he not realize that if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have half the stuff they found? It was his determination alone that helped track this fucker in the first place. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I attempt to comfort him.
“Let it go, dude, this isn’t on you. If it wasn’t for your fucking OCD, those fuckers you work with wouldn’t have jack. It’s not your fault he grabbed her.”
Nodding, he acknowledges what I’m trying to tell him, but I know this is a guilt he will carry around with him, especially if something happens to her. Rising, he slaps his hand half-heartedly against my shoulder and moves over toward his sister. There hasn’t been a dry eye in this tiny room since we arrived. It has been comforting knowing that everyone in this room cares about my beautiful dream girl. A noise peaks my attention and I watch as the door opens, and an elderly doctor enters. He is a greying man, his face worn with age. As he walks over to us that same, face is highlighting something else. His determined steps would indicate that the news he is about to share with us is not going to be anything but good.
“Mr. and Mrs. Valentine?” he questions, looking around the room.
Anthony steps forward, his wife tightly gripping onto his side.
“That’s us,” he replies, his face ashen with concern.
I haven’t seen that look on his face since his own wife, and daughter were guests in this very hospital, just a few months prior.
“I’m sorry but my news isn’t good…”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hawke
The image of that poor girl has been on a loop in my head since we found her in that hidden room at the airport. The easy part of my job was putting a bullet in that assholes head. Actually, killing him, in the end, became too fucking easy, he never even heard me coming. It was the sight I was faced with once he was out of the picture that will continue to haunt me. He had way too much fun with her body, and he made quick work of it as well. Her face and those injuries he inflicted on her will rest alongside the others that haunt my dreams daily.
My only concern at the time was to shield Sean. That boy has seen more than his fair share of pain and death over the last couple of years, but this was different. He cares deeply about this one, and I couldn’t allow him to live with the same horrific images that were laid out in front of me. No sooner had I placed my bullet into Vincent Salvatore’s head did I tell Ant to get the boy out. Once I knew they had moved, I called the EMTs and went to work helping Sherlyn. I had to yank Vincent’s body out of the way to get to her, and then the dilemma was, what to work on first.
Checking her pulse, I was relieved to find a faint beat under my fingers … thank fuck … she was alive, although barely, yet still alive. There was blood everywhere; Sherlyn was covered in it, making it hard to determine exactly where it was all coming from. Checking her clothing, I was thankful that we got to them before he was actually able to sexually assault her. That in itself was a small miracle, but I believe he was just warming up. I doubt he expected us to find them so quickly, and in those final moments, he was just too cocky for his own good. He made the assumption that we wouldn’t hear him once we passed by, but that’s what Sean was for. His sole purpose was to trail behind Ant and me, listening and looking for something we missed. Thankfully, he did notice something, and that in turn, lead to their discovery.
Removing the gag from her mouth, I quickly checked her airways to make sure he hadn’t shoved anything down her throat. You just never know what these sick bastards are capable of. The photos we retrieved from his other victims indicated that he liked to change up his MO with each kill. It was as if he found some new torture technique he wanted to practice on each new victim. Once I was happy, I moved along her body looking for evidence of what else he may have inflicted on her.
Her previously white shirt was now just a bloodied mess, ripped to shreds by what looked like some kind of jagged knife. Not that it mattered what sort of fucking instrument he used to remove her clothing, it was her body that concerned me. I carefully moved the ripped pieces of cloth away from her body, finding surgical type incisions scattered across the skin on her stomach. Each incision showcasing the deep wounds he had created with his knife. His use of the gag became obvious with that discovery, as he had wanted her awake when he hurt her. He just didn’t want her screaming, or attracting any attention.
At the time, I struggled to gauge just how deep each incision was. In reality, though, it wouldn’t have mattered, as she had multiple puncture wounds covering her whole body. From what I could see from the blood that soaked her clothing, he had attacked her legs, her torso, her stomach and her arms. The only areas that had been left untouched at the time were her face and pelvis. I’m sure he had grander plans for those parts of her. Plans she will be grateful he never got to perform.
For a novice like Sean, the blood loss alone would have been a sickening sight. For Sherlyn though, well that alone should have killed her, and that was without the worry about how deep each puncture wound was. The precise location of each incision was also a concern for me, as he had strategically placed them over particular organs. At a quick glance, it appeared that he had punctured her kidney, liver, and spleen but I couldn’t be sure. Any one of those injuries could effectively cause her death, and yet she was still holding on. To say I was in awe of that child was an understatement.
Unfortunately, the whole situation just brought back memories that were too close to home for me. Memories of a different life, a life with a similar outcome that made what happened to Sherlyn harder to digest. When Anthony re-entered, with the EMTs in tow, I just looked at him, to which he nodded, and I left the room. I waited outside with Sean until the EMTs were finished, and then I followed them, while Ant and Sean went to update everyone else.
Right now, though, I am standing alongside Ant, and Sarah, awaiting news on that brave girl, in this small as fuck hospital waiting room. This isn’t me, I don’t do well wishes, and it’s definitely not where I want to fucking be either. Ant knows I don’t deal well with hospitals. Fuck, he had to drag my ass in here when Sarah and Sophie were patients all those months ago. Shit and again when Sherlyn was attacked the first time. This is the reason why I stay away. I don’t do people, haven’t done since … well in a long fucking time.
“Mr. and Mrs. Valentine?” I hear the doctor call out, and then watch as Ant makes his way toward him with Sarah plastered to his side.
“That’s us,” Ant replies.
He isn’t fairing too well, aging faster than he should be, and it’s not surprising after everything that has gone down over the past year. He tried to get out of the agency after Sherlyn’s father died, but these attacks on Sherlyn dragged him straight back in.
“I’m sorry but my news isn’t good…”
Fuck…
“We did everything we could but the damage to her internal organs was too significant. The damage caused by the knife was unrepairable; we lost her on the operating table. I am terribly sorry for your loss.”
This can’t be happening, not again…
Chapter Twenty-Six
Stephen
“I am terribly sorry for your loss.”
No … It can’t be true …
It. Can’t. Be. Fucking. True …
Sherlyn can’t be dead. She was alive when they brought her in. He has to be wrong, my beautiful girl can’t be gone, I have only just gotten her back, for fuck’s sake. What fucked up kind of world is this, anyway?
I don’t feel my legs give way; I just feel the thump as my ass lands on the plastic seat beneath me. I know there is crying, and screaming going on around me, but it’s as if I have zoned it out. Everything happening around me is a blur, an echo and nothing that I can focus on now. My head is still reeling with the news the doctor has just delivered.
A hand on my shoulder startles me, jolting me upright. Slowly I lift my head to find Hawke standing in front of me, his hand on my shoulder, comforting me. Shit, that’s all anyone ha
s been doing lately, fucking comforting me. Can they not understand that all I want is my dream girl back? I don’t need to be fucking comforted. Staying silent, I lower my head once more. I have no interest in conversing with anyone right now, silence is my only friend.
It feels like I have been fixed to this chair, daydreaming for god knows how long when I catch Anthony approaching me from out of the corner of my eye.
“Son, would you like to say goodbye?” he asks.
I can see her?
Of course, I want to say goodbye.
“Yes.”
And he leads me out of the cramped room, down toward the elevators. I only listen as we move along this near empty corridor, to him making reassuring comments. I know he means well, and I really am grateful, but I’m not in the right state of mind where any of that matters. All I care about is that the one person who changed my life, who gave me hope and dragged me out of the darkness into the light, is gone… forever.
That darkness, I feel, is starting to resurface, slinking itself around my body like a cloud. Laughing, it’s telling me that I should have known better, I could never escape from it.
Maybe it’s right, maybe I can’t.
Upon reaching the morgue, which by the way looks more like a dungeon than a hospital room, they walk me across to where the love of my life is lying on a cold, metal table. She is covered with a white sheet and as we approach, they bring the sheet down, just enough to show us her gorgeous face. Tears start to well in my eyes, slowly dribbling down each of my cheeks.
She looks so peaceful, my sleeping beauty, making it hard to believe that she is never coming home. Leaning forward, I kiss her forehead, whispering I love you baby girl… always.
I can’t handle this, can’t stay in this room any longer. Backing away, I leave Anthony and Sarah to say their final goodbyes, escaping out into the corridor, back toward the elevators.
Fresh air is what I need; it’s as if I’m gasping for it, struggling to get it into my body quick enough.
I have to get out of here.
I need to escape. My head is filled with thoughts that I can’t process right now. I don’t want to have to imagine what my life is going to be like without Sherlyn in it, without my light.
When they find me, I’m crouched on the grassed area, my legs wrapped tightly around my knees, sobbing like a baby. Attaching herself to me, Sophie starts bawling again, her pretty face swollen with the tears she has already lost. Not moving I allow her to engulf me, wrapping me up in her embrace.
“Sean is gone,” she whispers.
“Left without a word. He’s running.”
Not knowing what to say, I lift my head and kiss the top of hers. I should be annoyed that she is mentioning him right now but I’m not.
“He loves her as much as I do Soph, give him time.”
Pulling my face into her hands, she kisses my cheek and tells me she loves me, which I already know. I love that girl myself, like a sister. Unsticking herself, she touches my cheek once more before returning to Ben. I hope he realizes what he has in her, and treasures every moment.
Looking away, it hits me hard realizing that what they have is something I will never experience again…
My light is gone, my world is crushed, nothing will ever be the same.
THE END
Sins of the Father (California Dreaming Book 2) Page 24
