It seemed like the only real option was to let her go.
He shook his head. How’d the passion in the bedroom just minutes ago turn to this?
Did he just hear something happen on the other side of the door?
Is she pulling up the window blinds?
The window! He hadn’t thought about that. She was going to try to escape!
Drew got on his feet and faced the door. He’d have to force his way after all.
He took the doorknob in his hand and twisted it.…
It didn’t turn. She’d locked the door without him hearing.
He knew he’d have to either slam his shoulder into it or kick it.
He’d try the shoulder approach first.
Suddenly, another thought struck him regarding what she was about to do.
“Elizabeth! Don’t!” he shouted, with urgency in his voice.
He reared back, right shoulder directed at the door, and slammed himself into it. He heard the wood of the doorframe crack. A second attempt broke the door free, except for the boxes and whatever else had been pushed up behind it.
Drew pressed in with all of his strength. The door gave way. Two shoves later and he had a gap wide enough to allow him in. He squeezed through and saw Elizabeth, with one leg out the window, staring at him with fear in her eyes.
Drew held his hands up. “Elizabeth! Wait! Just … just wait!”
“Stay away from me.”
“Elizabeth,” he tried to reason. “Hold on! You won’t survive the fall!”
Chapter 63
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lizabeth risked looking from Drew momentarily to take in the situation below.
She was above a concrete patio pad. Yes, there was a good chance she’d get hurt. But this was very much a pick-your-poison type of situation: either jump and break a leg—or possibly worse—or end up in the clutches of a stalker and potential rapist.
In that moment, the concrete pad held more appeal.
She began to duck below the raised window sash.
Drew called out again and rushed toward her.
For some reason, his movement froze her. But now she was more than halfway out. Her hands held onto the bottom of the sash while her left leg dangled in the open air below her. Between her two-handed grip and her other leg hooked over the windowsill, she had a pretty solid station.
She looked at Drew through the glass pane. His hands were still raised, almost as if in surrender. She knew, though, that it was a gesture to compel her to stop what she was doing.
“Drew, you stop! I swear to you, I’ll jump.”
He stopped a mere three or four feet from her.
“Just stop! Just … just stop! Okay? Just wait a minute! Listen to me.”
He sounded panicked, and she wasn’t exactly in a position, yet, to avoid listening to him.
“Think about how you’re holding on. Think, Elizabeth. There is no way that you’ll land on your feet. You’ll likely land headfirst. You’ve got no way to fully turn around before jumping. Do you understand me? Think!”
She paused. What he had said made sense. There would be no easy way to bring her other leg through without toppling out.
The situation she was in now angered her. He was in a position to manipulate her actions again. He’d been doing it from the moment he’d walked into the diner. She was done with it.
She’d take her chances. She drew her right knee up to the narrow window opening. She realized right away that her foot would be the challenge as she tried to turn to face outward.
She didn’t take her eyes off of Drew. She saw the alarm in his face and his disbelief that she was going to take the chance and jump.
“No, Elizabeth! Please! You’re too high!”
She’d make one last comment to him. Maybe it would be her final comment.
“Drew, you wanted to use me and throw me away. I begged you in the bedroom to not let me go through that again. You knew I was desperate for just one day of real love from you. You knew that! But you still sought pleasure over my heart. Whatever happens when I turn—”
The perspiration on her hands caused one of them to slip from the window sash. She screamed, realizing that she was falling sideways toward the ground.
Her other hand lost its grip as well. Terror flooded her mind as she knew that in a couple of seconds, she’d likely be dead.
DREW THREW HIMSELF at the window, barely reaching her right calf in time to seize hold of it. The force of her fall prevented him from remaining on his feet. He slammed onto his knees as his head collided with the lower frame of the lifted sash.
He held on.
She screamed. Her right knee twisted as her back slammed against the back of the house. Her knee, calf, and foot were the only things still visible to him.
Drew quickly recovered from the shock of the blow to his head, and he planted his knees against the floorboard below the window. He used all of his strength to pull backward. Something gave in his right shoulder, and a searing heat coursed down his arm and right side.
He cried out in pain, but he refused to let go.
He knew he had to quickly regain his footing so he’d have an upward angle with which to draw her dangling body back up through the opening. Thankfully, the windowsill was lower to the floor than in most houses.
“Oh God! Oh God!” Elizabeth screamed. “Please, don’t let go!”
Drew tried to reassure her through clenched teeth. “I won’t! I’ve got you!”
He fought to get his right knee off the floor, lifting it upward toward the windowsill. He slid his foot and pressed the toe of his shoe against the wall, settling back onto his seat.
He had gained a little more leverage, but the injury to his right shoulder wasn’t allowing him to pull. He would have to rely on his left arm.
He gripped her as tightly as he could with his right hand and released his left only long enough to reach over her knee and grip it. Being sure his strength would allow it, he moved his chest closer to the window and painfully lifted his right arm far enough from his chest to allow Elizabeth’s foot to slip under his armpit and behind him. He squeezed her calf between his arm and chest.
Again, he let out a cry from the pain. But he was not going to lose her!
“Mark! Please! Oh God … please hold onto me!”
Her use of his false name made him all the more determined to save her life. She was calling on the man she had loved and respected.
“Elizabeth, I’m going to get you! I will not let go!” He gritted his teeth as he fought to get his left foot into the same position as his right. He exhaled briefly as he finally managed it.
Drew worked to shift his legs and was finally able to get his backside off the floor. As he stood, stooped over from her weight, he was able to get a better idea of what Elizabeth was going through.
“Your other leg! Swing it up toward the window!”
It would not be an easy feat, as her left knee was bent with her foot behind her right thigh.
“I can’t! I can’t move it!” she cried.
“This is going to hurt, and I’m sorry, but when I start to turn your body, you’ll begin turning to your right. You have to try to get your left leg to straighten.”
When she didn’t acknowledge his instruction, he shouted, “Elizabeth, did you hear me?”
“Yes! Yes! Okay, I’ll try,” she said through her tears.
“Okay, on the count of three. 1 … 2 … 3!”
Drew twisted her leg counterclockwise with all that he had. She screamed in pain. So did he.
The momentum of the turn lapsed, and she twisted back to her original position.
“I can’t! I can’t!”
“Elizabeth, you have to! We’re going to do this again. Don’t focus on the pain. Focus on your other leg instead! You’ve got this! Now, again … 1 … 2 … 3!”
Again, he rotated her leg, and again they screamed, but this tim
e Elizabeth released her foot from behind her. She was weeping now.
“You did it! You did good, Elizabeth! Okay, part two. Extend your leg to the window. You have to bring it up to your right leg so I can grab it. I have to get two parts of you through this window.”
Thankfully, Elizabeth didn’t seem to have any trouble with this request. Her left foot and calf appeared at the windowsill.
“Good job! Elizabeth, I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt too. There’s no way to avoid it.”
Drew saw that her left knee was still below the level of the windowsill. This meant that when he grabbed for her ankle and began to pull her up, the back of her calf was going to take the full weight of her body as he dragged it upward and through the opening. But he had to get her left knee to the same level.
Without further warning, he grabbed for her ankle with his left hand, squeezing her right ankle as tightly as he could under his right arm. The pain was searing. His hand made purchase, and he pulled her calf through the window.
Elizabeth groaned with pain.
“You’re doing great, Elizabeth. One more big effort to go, okay? You can do this. You have to do this.”
She was still crying, and it was surely coming from the combination of fear and pain.
“What?” she begged. “What is it?”
“Elizabeth, you have to do a sit-up. You have to do the biggest, meanest sit-up you’ve ever done in your life. Sit up and grab either of your knees. I’ll be able to get your hand from there.”
“I … I’ll try.”
“No, Elizabeth. Do it! You won’t get a second chance. Everything you’ve got. Everything! On three! 1 … 2 … 3!”
WITH THE SOUND of an enraged wild-woman, Elizabeth willed her torso upward with all that she had. Her eyes were closed with the effort as she reached both arms forward, hoping to find her knees.
She felt the fingertips of her right hand reach her right kneecap, but then her strength was gone. Instantly, she knew she’d missed her goal by mere inches! And instantly, she knew that her failure meant she was going to die.
Her hand slid along her jeans, her fingers clenched. Unexpectedly, her fingers found the fashion-designed rip in her jeans, just above—now below—her knee. She grabbed with all that she had.
She heard a slight tear, but the fabric held. She whipped her left hand upward again and was able to grab her right wrist with it.
“Great, Elizabeth! Great! You did it! Now hold on! More pain. I’m sorry.”
Mark—Drew—pulled again. The pain in her right knee and the feeling of her thighs being dragged upward and over the uneven wood caused her to scream in agony. But through her pain she felt Mark’s hand … his hand letting go of her left leg and quickly grabbing her right hand … and pulling. The release of her left leg caused her body to twist unexpectedly, causing a momentary feeling of panic, but his grip on her hand was secure. He was strong.
She stared through the opening of the window. Mark … Drew … had tears streaming down his face as he pulled her upward and through.
Her left hand was able to find the bottom of the window sash. Instantaneous relief washed over her.
She was shaking uncontrollably, but with him pulling, and with her left hand and arm able to assist and guide, she navigated through the opening, falling directly on top of Drew.
She stared down at him, her hair becoming two curtains that blocked everything out but the two of them, face to face.
He was breathing heavily, sweat and tears all over his face.
And he was in pain. Serious pain.
Elizabeth rolled off of him and onto the hardwood floor.
She, too, was panting. And she couldn’t stop shaking.
He brought his left hand up to his right shoulder and winced.
And groaned.
Drew managed to speak. “You’re okay?”
Elizabeth didn’t know how to respond. She was … she was, what? In shock? Thoughts weren’t coming clearly.
“Elizabeth! Are you okay?”
She felt delirious. She hoped it wasn’t leading to another faint.
She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. She did it again.
She was safe. Inside the house and safe.
Her heart began to slow down, and she reopened her eyes.
Drew was still on his back, his eyes on her. He had an unsure look on his face.
Elizabeth was sure she had the same expression.
Clarity returned. And, unfortunately, so did the pain.
As the adrenaline in her bloodstream began to subside, the pain in her right knee increased. It was bad. Very bad. She knew she wouldn’t be able to walk on it.
Elizabeth’s phone rang in the bedroom across the hall.
Drew’s and Elizabeth’s eyes locked onto each other.
Chapter 64
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either budged.
Elizabeth couldn’t move anyway, and Drew had no reason to.
Still looking directly at him, the phone on its third ring, Elizabeth said, “I don’t suppose you’ll go get that for me.”
Drew—pain still registering on his face—lifted his head to see her better and shook it slightly. “I don’t think I can do that until we talk.”
She sucked in and bit on her cheeks for a moment, contemplating whether to respond in anger or to simply keep her mouth shut.
She chose the latter, but her narrowing eyes registered the former. She was livid, and yet she was still alive because this man had been willing to put his body through the wringer for her.
For what reason, though?
The phone stopped ringing.
“Listen,” he said. “I need to talk this whole thing through.”
“You sound like a girl,” she jabbed.
Drew lowered his head back to the ground and shook it. Elizabeth knew his patience was wearing thin, probably due to the pain he was in more than anything else.
He rolled to his left enough to use his legs and left arm to sit himself up. Elizabeth couldn’t help but wince with him as he worked through the pain.
Drew looked back toward the door, got up, and walked to it. He pushed it closed then took a seat on the floor again, his back against the stacked-box barricade.
Figures.
He must have seen the anger flare in her eyes, because he quickly said, “Please, relax. Let’s just work our way through this. Okay?”
“Someone’s trying to get in contact with me. It’s best for you to let me answer it.”
“So you can blurt out where you are and who I am?”
“My dad’s a cop; he’d be able to find me anyway.”
Drew’s eyes widened.
“He’s a cop?”
“Chief of police, actually.” She crossed her arms to press the point.
Drew’s face transitioned from dismay to ‘uh-huh, sure.’
“I’m serious.”
“Okay.… Chief of what city?”
“Pittston.”
DREW HAD HEARD the town’s name before. He believed it had been on the news sometime back, but he couldn’t recall why.
“Your dad’s the chief of police,” he said in a mocking tone. He didn’t know if he could, or should, believe that. He used his sarcasm to draw the truth out of Elizabeth.
“Yes. He is. And if I don’t get home by 9:30, he’s going to know something’s wrong. He’ll start looking.”
“So, what’s your police-chief dad’s name?”
“Brent Lawton.”
“Your last name is Franklin.”
“Yes.”
“His name is Lawton.”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t seem to fit, now, does it?”
“Nope.” That popping “p” sound again.
Drew thought it through.
“You’re his stepdaughter?”
She shook her head, lips pursed, e
yebrows raised, eyes peering into his.
“Then what?”
“I’m…” She paused and Drew wondered about that. “I’m being adopted.”
Brent Lawton?
Pittston!
It came back to him in a wave. He had been the cop from Millsville who had taken down that cult of wackos in the Village of Pittston. The story had been on the news for days. He’d been fired from the Millsville P.D. Was he really the new chief in Pittston?
Drew became pensive, eyes shifting from place to place in the room, locking onto nothing.
He had to think.
JAMIE SET THE phone down between them. Jenna looked at him.
“Went to voice mail,” he said anxiously.
“Maybe she didn’t get it out of her purse in time.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Besides, she’s probably already on her way home. She figured on 9:30, right?”
Jamie looked at the wall clock. 9:07.
“Okay, but if she’s not home by then.…”
He didn’t know what the end of his sentence should be.
“Seriously, I don’t know why you’re getting all worked up,” said Jenna.
Jamie didn’t know for sure either. “Probably all the talk about her and demons. I can’t get the thought out of my head now that Mom and Dad put it there. And Mom’s idea that she could become suicidal?”
Jenna’s face became more serious. “And the added element that you’re falling for her.”
“Fallen,” he said under his breath as he turned and looked at his feet on the coffee table. He knew she had heard him.
“And you need to be her hero, like Dad is to Mom?”
Her words were nonjudgmental, an honest question.
“Something like that, yeah.”
Jenna got up from her end of the couch, dropped the book she’d been reading onto the table, and moved to sit next to him.
“You impress me more and more, little brother … who isn’t so little anymore.” With her left arm, she pulled him close and kissed him just above his right ear. “If things work out between the two of you, she’ll be blessed to have you.”
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