by HELEN HARDT
He cleared his throat and signaled the bartender. “Two more, please.”
I shook my head. “Not for me.” No way did I want another drink, even if I wasn’t driving. This shit was getting heavy, and I wanted my mind at full capacity.
Once the bartender was out of earshot, I faced Jonathan. “What the hell happened to Daphne’s friend?”
“I’ll get to that in a minute. First, you need to understand that Lucy and I will see to Daphne’s needs—and the baby’s, if necessary—if things don’t work out between you two.”
“What do you mean ‘if necessary’? Of course the baby will have needs.”
“I mean, if she decides to keep the baby.”
Damn. My muscles tightened, and everything in me went on alert. My hands curled into fists, and the anger inside me coiled like a snake ready to strike. “We’ve already decided to keep the child. You know this.”
“Just in case things don’t work out with the two of you.”
“Why wouldn’t it work out? And don’t tell me how young we are. We already know that. We took precautions, and this happened anyway. Seems kind of like it was meant to be.”
He smiled then. A small smile, but a smile nonetheless. “I understand what you’re feeling.”
The urge to do Jonathan Wade physical harm hadn’t lessened, but I forced my fists to unclench. “I’m not sure you do.”
“You’ve fallen in love. First-time love is quick and powerful. It’s almost magic. It’s what I had with Larry’s mother. Of course, you see that Larry’s mother and I are no longer together. We divorced when Larry was just a toddler.”
Rage swept through me once more, but I vowed to keep it in check. If I showed my anger, I’d only be proving to him that I was young. Young and hotheaded. “Daphne and I are different.”
“I believe you. That is, I believe that’s what you think. I thought the same about Lisa, and we were older than you two are.”
I shook my head. “You’re wrong. I felt something different for Daphne the first time I saw her, and she says the same. She says fate brought us together.”
“You believe in that?”
“I never did before, but I do now.”
Jonathan sighed. “My daughter is an old soul. She’s always found pleasure in the small things, even more so since her hospitalization. When she was little, she insisted a nest of fairies lived outside her room, that they came to her and sang to her at night. She’s one of a kind, an almost ethereal spirit. It’s that spirit that has gotten her through the rough times.”
His choice of words made sense to me. Ethereal meant light and delicate in a way that was almost too perfect for this world.
That was Daphne to a T.
Jonathan continued, “Somehow, she’s able to pick anything apart and find the good, no matter how minute it is, even if it means tossing everything else aside. It doesn’t surprise me to hear that she used the word fate.”
Again, Daphne to a T. She found the beauty in a simple sunrise, a yellow tulip. Was it any wonder I loved her?
“I’ve told you before that I believe your intentions are honorable, Brad. I know you love my daughter. I see it in your eyes when you look at her.”
“Still, you think it’s just puppy love.”
“I don’t know, son. But I’ll find out.”
“How exactly can you do that?”
The bartender set his second drink in front of him. “I’ll find out in the next few minutes. After I tell you the rest of Daphne’s story.”
Chapter Four
Daphne
I loved my father. He was a good man, and he took care of my mother and me. He’d never treat my mother the way Brad’s dad treated his mom. He’d never treat Brad badly, either.
So why were my nerves jumping on trampolines under my skin?
Getting to know each other.
My mother’s words had seemed ominous, but why shouldn’t they get to know each other? Brad was going to be his son-in-law, the father of his grandchild. Of course they should get to know each other.
Mom had finished her second drink and had gone to her bedroom.
I now sat on my bed—a bed that was still home to Puppy, my stuffed cocker spaniel I’d slept with since I could remember. His golden fur was matted down, and his nose had fallen off years ago, but I loved him. I hadn’t taken Puppy to college. Now I snuggled him, wishing he were real so he could give me doggy kisses like Ebony had at Brad’s ranch house. My mom was allergic to dogs, so I’d never had one. I’d named Puppy when I was a kid. I’d thought many times about renaming him to something a little more original, but I never did. He’d always be Puppy to me.
I lay down, still snuggling him. My favorite pillow was at school, and the one Mom had replaced it with wasn’t nearly as fluffy and comfy. My bed was, though. So much better than the dorm bed.
I closed my eyes.
I remembered the most comfortable bed I’d ever slept in—the one in the guesthouse on Brad’s ranch.
The one where we’d made love.
I touched my abdomen.
The bed where we’d created our baby.
Was it the bed that was so comfortable? Or was it being with Brad?
Probably both.
“Hello in there,” I said to my belly. “It’s me. Your mama. You’re a boy, aren’t you? I’ll love you no matter what, but I really think you’re a boy. You’re like a peaceful dove that flew into me to save me. I have to be okay now, because you need me.”
Not that I thought I wasn’t okay. I’d proved I was strong. I’d gotten through the hell that was junior year, and now I forced myself to remember every little detail of my life. I’d faltered a few times, but no more than anyone else.
At least that was what I told myself.
Now, though? No more faltering. “I promise, little dove. I’ll be the best mother in the world, because that’s what you deserve.”
I closed my eyes.
No one else knew yet. I hadn’t told Patty or Ennis or anyone at school. Brad hadn’t told Sean. Or his parents. Next weekend we’d tackle that.
Tackle. That was the word, all right. But with Brad at my side, loving me, and our baby nestled safe in my belly, I could tackle anything.
I could tackle the world.
I’d tackle the world gladly for Brad and my little dove.
Fate had brought Brad Steel into my life. Fate had put this baby inside me. And fate would guide us the rest of the way. I touched my abdomen—
Crash!
I jerked upward.
I scrambled off my bed and out of my room. “Mom? Mom, what happened?”
The house was dark, and my parents’ bedroom door was closed. Mom had gone to bed after her two drinks. How long ago had that been? An hour or so, but no longer.
I knocked on the door. “Mom?”
No reply.
“Mom!”
Still no reply. I turned the knob and entered—
“Mom!”
She lay on the floor next to her bed. I raced to her, knelt down, and shook her shoulder. “Mom, you fell out of bed. Wake up.”
Nothing, so I nudged her harder.
Still nothing—
“Oh my God!”
Next to her on the floor lay several pills and an open prescription bottle. I’d nearly missed them in the dark. I picked up the bottle and read the label.
Valium.
Three white pills lay on the carpeting. How many were in the bottle?
“Damn it, Mom. Wake up!” I shook her hard. “Wake up! How many pills did you take?”
God, what was I supposed to do? This was my mother. She wasn’t perfect, but she was mine, and I couldn’t lose her.
Keep your head, Daphne. Call an ambulance. She needs help.
I’d read about the new 9-1-1 service to call in an emergency. Did we have it in Colorado yet? I had no idea. I kept the bottle in my hand and picked up the princess phone on her nightstand. I dialed zero.
“Operator? I ne
ed an ambulance.”
“I’ll connect you.”
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Finally someone came on the line.
“I need an ambulance. My mother’s passed out. She took Valium.”
“Yes, ma’am. Address please.”
I hastily gave our address.
“Thank you. Dispatching now. How much did she take, ma’am?”
“I don’t know.”
“How many pills were in the bottle?”
“I don’t know.”
“The bottle will say how many were prescribed.”
I couldn’t read the small print in the dark. Why hadn’t I turned on a light? I hit the lamp and read the bottle. “Thirty pills.”
“How many milligrams per pill?”
“Can you please just get the ambulance here?”
“I’ve already called for the paramedics, ma’am. I’m getting information from you that I can dispatch to them while they’re on their way.”
“Oh.” That was good. Very good. “Five milligrams.”
“And when was the prescription filled?”
“What?”
“The date on the bottle, ma’am.”
“Right, okay.” I quickly scanned the small print. “Oh, shit. Yesterday.”
“How many pills are left in the bottle, ma’am?”
Tears fell from my eyes. “Three. Only three,” I sobbed.
“Thank you, ma’am. Help is on the way.”
I hung up the phone.
“Brad!” I cried. “Daddy! Where are you?”
I had to find them, tell them what was going on.
Nightcap. My father had asked Brad to go for a nightcap. What was the name of the bar he went to sometimes? It was an Irish pub. An Irish name.
I shook my mother once more. “Mommy, please wake up!”
Her pulse was still visible on her neck. I placed my hand on her flesh. She was cold. So cold, but at least her heart was beating. I lay down next to her and snuggled into her. Please, Mama. Please, don’t leave me.
Be strong.
The words cut into my mind. Dr. Payne’s words. My father’s words. My mother’s words—words she hadn’t heeded herself.
My own words.
Be strong, Daphne.
I had to find my father. What was the name of that pub? I rose. I hated leaving my mother, but I had to find the phone book. Where was it? If I could only remember the name, I could call information.
McFall’s Pub. The memory hurled itself into my mind.
That was it!
Lucy, I’m meeting Bud for a drink at McFall’s.
How many times had my father said those words?
He drank a lot at McFall’s.
My mom drank a lot at home.
I knew this, and I’d never given it much thought.
They were drinking too much.
Most likely because of me.
And now my beautiful mother had taken pills.
Because I’d come home pregnant.
I quickly dialed information and got the number for the pub.
Chapter Five
Brad
What kind of story did Jonathan have to tell me? I already knew everything, except for why Daphne didn’t know the truth about her best friend.
Was that what had sent her into anxiety and depression? But how could it have if she didn’t even know?
“I’m listening,” I said. “But nothing you tell me will make me love Daphne any less.”
“I hope that’s true, son. I sincerely hope that’s true.” Jonathan cleared his throat. “It’s not an easy story to tell. Not for anyone, and especially not for me.”
“I can’t imagine it’s easy for anyone to talk about the death of a young girl,” I agreed.
“If only that were all there was to it.” He took a sip of his second Irish whiskey.
I wished, then, that I’d let the barkeep make me a second as well.
No. Better to stay focused. Whatever Jonathan had to tell me, I’d remain calm.
Nothing would sway my love for Daphne and my unborn child.
“You know Daphne was hospitalized. What you don’t know is why.”
“It wasn’t anxiety and depression?”
“Son, most cases of anxiety and depression don’t require hospitalization.”
“But my mother…”
“From what you’ve described, your mother most likely had a mental breakdown brought on by your father’s emotional and physical abuse.”
“But I stopped it. She was hospitalized after I stopped it.”
“You may have stopped the physical abuse. That doesn’t mean it ended for her. I’m not a doctor, Brad. I’m not going to try to diagnose your mother. But I do know this, from experience. Most anxiety and depression can be treated with therapy, medication, or both. Rarely is hospitalization necessary, and certainly not hospitalization for an entire year.”
“So Daphne wasn’t anxious and depressed? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Oh, she was, but there was much more to it than that.”
Again, I wished for that second drink. Was I ready to hear this?
Didn’t matter. I loved this man’s daughter. She was carrying my child. I’d made a commitment to her—a commitment I’d stand by, no matter what.
But I had to know what I was dealing with.
“She’s told me she doesn’t remember a lot about that year.”
“She doesn’t, and she’s better off for it.”
“All right,” I said. “Let me have it.”
Jonathan rubbed his chin. “It’s very complex, and it’s not pretty. In fact, it’s horrific.”
My heart sped up as my blood thundered through my veins. “God. Okay. I get it. Please. Just tell me.”
“It happened in August, right before Daphne’s junior year was to begin. Daphne told Lucy and me she was spending the night at Sage’s. Only that’s not what happened.”
I nodded, unable to speak. Jonathan’s voice was muffled beneath the noise of my own blood gushing through me. At least that was what it seemed like.
“Sage told her parents she was spending the night at our house.”
It took me a few seconds to register his words and then reply. “That’s an old trick. Most teens have tried it.”
“And most teens get away with it, no harm done,” Jonathan said. “That wasn’t the case for Daphne and Sage.”
My bowels clenched as nausea clawed its way up my throat. I knew this feeling. The fight-or-flight response.
Flight was tempting.
But this was Daphne. My love.
I chose to fight.
“Go on,” I said.
“It was a Saturday evening. No one knows the details of where they were going or why, but they ended up at the high school after dark.”
After dark. Already I knew where this was headed.
I swallowed back the puke that threatened.
“Someone found them behind the stadium bleachers early in the morning and called the police and an ambulance.”
“Oh, God.”
“They’d been beaten and raped, Brad. Both of them.”
No.
No. No. No.
Not my Daphne. Not my beautiful Daphne. I clenched my fists. Fight. I’d fight. I’d fucking kill.
“No,” I finally said aloud, my eyes squeezed shut.
“I know how you’re feeling.”
My eyes shot open. “How can you possibly know?”
“Because I’m her father, Brad. Three men—”
“Three? Oh my God.” I buried my head in my hands. Three men who’d die at my hands if it was the last thing I did.
“Look at me.”
I stayed buried.
“Look at me, Brad.”
Be strong. Be fucking strong.
I raised my head and met Jonathan’s gaze. His eyes were glassy.
“Three men violated my little girl. My little girl. They stole her innocence, and they stole mor
e than that, which I’ll get to in a minute.”
“Three? Where the fuck are they? Rotting in prison? I’ll have them killed. I have money. Money.”
“They’re not in prison, Brad.” He took a drink. “They were never caught.”
“What?” I pounded my fist onto the bar.
“Easy. I spent a year pounding things. It doesn’t help.”
“Just finish,” I said, pulling at my hair. “Tell me everything. It can’t get any worse.”
“Oh, it can. They were both in ICU for a couple of days, lucky to be alive. Daphne fared better than Sage. Sage was nearly dead when she was found, and to save her life, the doctors had to perform a complete hysterectomy.”
I stared at him, frozen. I couldn’t feel anything. I just wanted to get through this.
“You can’t imagine the happiness I felt when you told me Daphne was pregnant. It’s a shitty time for both of you, but it means the doctors were right. She can have children.”
I said nothing. Still stared at him.
“They both suffered severe concussions, with only one difference. Sage remembered everything. Daphne, though, suffered from retrograde amnesia. When she woke up, she’d lost all her memories from the incident and from the entire seventy-two hours prior.”
“Wait a minute? You let her think—”
“Don’t judge us too harshly, Brad. Her mother and I had the chance to spare her from the horror of that night. We talked to doctors and therapists. Some advised us against keeping it from her, but in the end, it was our decision as she was a minor.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t regret it.”
“But it did affect her. She spent a year locked up.”
“First of all, she wasn’t locked up. She was hospitalized.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Do you consider that your own mother was locked up?”
“No. I… I don’t know what the hell I think.”
“I’d say that’s normal under the current circumstances.”
Memories flooded me. Taking Daphne’s virginity. No blood and no pain.
Because I hadn’t taken her virginity.
It had been stolen in a horrific and violent way by three strangers.
