Baby, Come Back (10 page)

He gritted his teeth. Her fingers shook. They didn't speak.

She finished cleaning, then went about bandaging the wound. She moved her fingers gently over his bare chest and abdomen, securing the tape.

When she'd secured the last piece, he covered her hands with one of his. She looked up; their gazes met and held. She didn't move; neither did he. Beneath their joined hands she felt the hammer of his heart, the firm warmth of his skin.

The smell of the antiseptic mingled with that of their fear. He trailed a finger across her eyebrow, down the curve of her cheek, over the softness of her mouth.

She gasped, the sound one of awareness. Of need. Her nipples hardened and pressed against her bloodstained blouse. At the apex of her thighs she grew warm, moist. She ached.

He lowered his head; she lifted hers more. Their mouths met. And clung. He dipped his tongue inside her mouth and stroked hers. She stroked back, the pulse beginning to pound in her head. Warm became moist; the ache became a throb.

He ended the kiss, drawing away from her as deliberately, as irrevocably, as he'd approached. And even though their mouths no longer touched, the effects of that kiss lingered.

Something had changed between them. She'd felt it in their kiss and in her heart; she saw it in his eyes. They'd changed with the kiss. With their brush with death. Some things had became so very important and some, now, mattered not at all.

“You've got to call the police,” he murmured, his gaze still locked on hers.

“Yes. And Dennis.” She started to stand; he stopped her. She searched his gaze. “What?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “Nothing.”

He released her hands, and they returned to her office. She shuddered as she stepped back into the room, seeing the physical evidence of the violence that had ensued. It could have been so much worse, she told herself. Tim could have killed Hayes. He could have killed her. Could have raped her. He'd intended to.

“Don't even think it,” Hayes said, as if reading her thoughts. “It's over.”

“I know. It's just that—” She shuddered again. “Will I ever be able to look at my desk and not...remember?”

He took her hands. “I haven't a clue. If you find a way to block it out of your mind, let me know. I don't think I'll ever be able to.”

She gazed into his eyes for one long moment, then sighed. “I'll make those calls.”

He released her hands, but never took his eyes off her, even while she used the telephone. He watched her intently. Possessively. The expression in his eyes almost fierce. She had the sense that he kept his gaze on her because he feared that if he looked away she would disappear. A shudder moved over her, one that was part fear, part arousal.

She hung up the phone and forced a weak smile. “You don't have to look at me like that. I'm fine. Really.”

“I know.” He cleared his throat. “That doesn't change anything. I can't stop picturing that bastard bent over you...the knife pressed to your—”

“Don't. Please don't.” She curved her arms around herself and shifted her gaze. “The police are coming.”

Hayes drew his eyebrows together. “I gathered.”

“Dennis is going to call the rest of the faculty and warn them. Just in case...” She rubbed her arms, suddenly cold.

He held out his arms. “Come here, Alice.”

She moved into his arms and clung. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, trembling.

He stroked her hair. “That boy—he's the one you told me about, isn't he? The one you had to kick out of the program?”

She nodded against his shoulder. “It was awful,” she whispered. “I was working. Catching up on patient reports. Tim showed up. He was on something—I could tell. But I thought I could help him. That I could...talk to him. I thought he...needed me.”

She drew in a ragged breath. “He was so angry. He said...awful, ugly things.”

Hayes tipped her face up to his. “You don't have to do this, Alice. You don't have to tell—”

“Yes...I do. I need to talk about it.” She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the nightmare images in her brain to disappear. “By the time I realized the situation...that Tim was out of control, it was too late. He had me trapped.”

Hayes stiffened. “That son of a—” he swore, unable to contain his fury. “I should have gone after him. I could have caught him.”

“And maybe gotten killed?” She shook her head. “No, Hayes. Never. Promise me.”

Hayes did, and she relaxed against him. “He called me a two-faced...bitch. He said I was the cause of all his problems, that I was the reason he got kicked out of the program. He was so crazy, yet so...cold.”

Hayes shuddered and tightened his arms around her. “He was the reason he got kicked out, Alice. Not you.”

“I know, but—”

“No buts, Alice. The kid's a problem.”

“I know. It's not that.” She lifted her face to Hayes's. “It hurts because I did try to help him. It hurts that he could think those things about me. All I ever wanted was...to help him.” Tears welled in her eyes, then spilled over. “Please say you believe me, Hayes. I did try.”

“I believe you.” He stroked her hair. “You couldn't help but try. You were born to save people.”

“Right. Tim came to me a troubled teenager with a drug problem. Now he's wanted by the police and will probably end up in jail. I did a great job, didn't I?”

“What's happened to him is not your fault. He was beyond your help.”

She curved her fingers around Hayes's shoulders, sudden fear clutching at her. In the distance, she heard the wail of police sirens. “What if he comes back? What if he—”

“He won't.” Hayes shook his head, his expression fierce. “I won't let anyone hurt you, Alice. Never again.”

J
eff.

Sheri sat up in bed, and looked toward the dark window. Gravel sprayed against the glass once more, and she slid out of bed and padded to the window. After taking a quick peek behind her to make sure her bedroom door was shut, she eased the window up.

He stood below the window, the collar of his sweatshirt jacket hiked up around his chin, his face tipped up to hers. His nose was red from the cold, his hair tousled from the breeze. Her heart turned over. How could she stay mad at him when she loved him so much?

He thought they should give their baby away.

Their angry words of the other day raced into her head, and a tremor of fear moved up her spine. What if he meant to break up with her? After the way she'd acted, maybe he didn't love her anymore. If so, how would she go on?

She folded her arms across her chest. “What are you doing here?”

He shivered. “We need to talk.”

She blinked against tears, the fear clawing at her. She clutched herself tighter. “You haven't called me in two days.”

“You told me you never wanted to see me again.”

“And you told me we should give our baby up for adoption.”

He looked away, then back. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I was wrong. Won't you forgive me?” When she didn't reply, he lowered his voice. “It's been hell without you.”

Her eyes filled. “Then why didn't you call?”

“I had to do some thinking before I did.”

“And now you've done that.”

“Yes.” He shivered again. “Can I come in?”

Sheri shook her head. “I promised Miss A.”

“Then come out. It's really important.” He looked up at her earnestly. “Please, Sheri. I—” He took a deep breath. “We need to talk about our future.”

Our future.
He hadn't come to say goodbye. Relief, sweet and breath stealing, moved over her. She nodded. “I'll come around.”

Grabbing her robe from the end of the bed, she stepped into her slippers and checked the clock. Nearly eleven. She crossed her fingers and prayed Miss A. was asleep.

She tiptoed to the door and peered out. The lights she'd left on when she'd gone to bed were still burning, yet there wasn't a sign of Miss A. Sheri frowned. It didn't look as if she'd even gotten home yet.

That's right, Sheri remembered. Alice had said she would be working late. Catching up on something or other. Sheri doubled back to the bed and, using the pillows, created a shape that she hoped would pass for her asleep under the covers.

She bit her bottom lip, guilt plucking at her. She looked at the bedroom window and thought of Jeff waiting for her. “Our future,” he'd said. Surely going out to talk with Jeff about something so important wasn't betraying Miss A.'s trust.

Squelching her misgivings, Sheri tiptoed out of the room and to the front door. She flipped out the porch light and stepped outside.

Jeff was waiting for her at the side of the porch, partially hidden by the row of oleander bushes. He took her into his arms. “I'm sorry, Sheri. So sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

She pressed against him. “I never should have said those cruel things to you. I didn't mean them.”

“I love you so much.”

“And I love you.”

He kissed her, deeply yet sweetly. She pressed herself to him, holding on to him almost fiercely. The past few days had been the longest of her life, and even though nothing had been resolved between them, she knew everything would be all right. Somehow it would all work out.

Jeff ended the kiss, but didn't release her. He rested his forehead against hers. “I thought I was going to bust if I didn't kiss you soon.”

She shuddered. “I know. I felt the same way. I've missed you so much.”

“I never want us to be apart like that again,” he said fiercely. “No matter what.”

“Never,” she repeated, shivering. “No matter what.”

“You're cold. Come on, I parked the car around the corner.”

He led her to the vehicle and opened the door for her. After she slid in, he went around to the other side. Once inside, he turned toward her, his expression serious.

She met his eyes, her heart beginning to thump uncomfortably against the wall of her chest. She drew in a deep breath. “You've been thinking about our future.”

He set his mouth in a determined line, and a muscle worked in his jaw. “Yes.”

She curled her fingers into the worn velour of her robe. Her chest ached so badly, she could hardly breathe. “What did you decide?”

“That we should get married.”

Her heart dropped to her knees. She stared at him, certain she hadn't heard correctly.

He smiled and gathered her hands in his. “Yeah, that's what I said. Married. I think we should do it, Sheri.”

She lowered her eyes to their joined hands, Miss A.'s warning running through her head.
You can't blackmail Jeff into marrying you. If you do you'll end up unhappy.
Sheri lifted her gaze back to his, tears blurring her vision.

Jeff's smile faded. “Don't you want to get married?”

“Oh, yes. More than anything. It's just that...” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “The last time we...talked you seemed—”

“I needed some time to think. That's all. I love you.” He put his hand hesitantly on her abdomen. She felt it tremble. “This is our baby. I think we should be a family.”

“Oh, Jeff.” Tears filled her eyes. “I'm so happy.”

“So, you'll marry me?”

“Of course.” Her tears brimmed, then spilled over. “How could you even think I wouldn't?”

He took her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. “I promise I'll be a good husband, Sheri. And a good father.”

“I know you will be,” she whispered, her voice thick. “And I promise to be a good wife. A good mother. Our baby is going to be the most loved baby ever.”

He tightened his arms. “We're going to be so happy. We're not going to make any of the mistakes our parents did.”

Again Alice's words came back to her. Were they already making a mistake? Had she blackmailed Jeff into marrying her? Would he live to regret this night? Would he grow to resent her? Their baby?

She tipped her head back to gaze up at him. His pensive expression took her aback. He didn't look sad, not exactly. But he didn't look happy, either.

A lump formed in her throat. More than almost anything in the world she wanted to marry him, for them to be a family. But only if he wanted to. She couldn't bear it if he was unhappy.

She touched her index finger to his chin. “Jeff?”

He met her eyes. “Yeah?”

“Are you...sure about this? Are you sure you...want to marry me?” He didn't respond, and her heart turned over. “If you don't want to, I'll still love you. What I said the other day, I didn't mea—”

He laid a finger gently across her lips. “I'm sure, sweetheart. I want us to be together. All of us.”

“But...” She drew in a deep breath, torn between concern for him and fear that he really might back out. “What about Georgetown?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“It's out. Dad won't pay.”

Her heart sank. “Couldn't you get a scholarship? You're really smart. Or...a loan, maybe?”

“Dad makes too much for me to get a loan. I already checked. And it's too late for a scholarship for next year. Besides, to be eligible for a scholarship I'd have to go to school full-time, and I'm going to need to work, too.”

She caught his hand. “You have to go to school, Jeff. It wouldn't be right if you didn't. You've worked so hard.”

“I figured I'd go to the University of New Orleans, or even Southeastern in Hammond. They're close and pretty cheap. I'll take a couple of classes and still be able to work full-time.”

She remembered the day he'd gotten his acceptance from Georgetown, remembered how happy, how proud he'd been. Her heart hurt for him. “I can work, Jeff. I'll support us.”

“You won't be able to after the baby comes. And even if we wanted to put him in daycare, I hear it's expensive.”

She sagged against the seat back, fighting tears. “I didn't mean for this to happen,” she whispered. “I didn't want to mess up your life.”

“Hey.” He turned her to face him. “How could you mess up my life? You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

She pressed her face to his chest. She'd never been the best anything before. She loved him so much she would die without him. He loved her the same way. They were going to get married. Just as she'd prayed they would.

Then why did she have this awful feeling of doom, as if everything was going to tumble in on them?

She curled her fingers tightly into his soft fleece jacket, holding him to her. Beneath her cheek she felt the steady, comforting rhythm of his heart. She closed her eyes. They were going to be happy, the happiest couple ever.

And they were going to love their baby; it was going to be happy and healthy and beautiful. Their baby would never know the pain of abuse or neglect. It would never know what it was like to be unwanted and unloved.

“What do you hope it is?” Jeff asked softly, stroking her hair. “Boy or girl?”

She yawned. “I don't care. Either. How about you?”

“Either. A girl, maybe.”

Sheri snuggled closer into his side, her lips curving up. They were going to be so happy people would look at them on the street and comment on it.

With that picture firmly in her mind, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The police's questioning brought all the horror back. Alice had answered their questions clearly and succinctly, even though exhaustion and the remnants of fear had pulled at her, sapping both her energy and peace of mind.

She'd clung to Hayes's hand, grateful for his support and unwavering strength. He'd stood protectively by her side, only speaking when directly spoken to, his expression grim. After the police had left, he'd insisted on driving her home. She despised being weak, but in truth doubted she would have been able to make the trip alone.

Alice glanced at him from the corner of her eye. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Other than looking as if set in stone, his expression gave her no clue to either. She moved her gaze over him. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand; the other rested on his thigh. His mouth was drawn into a hard line and a muscle worked in his jaw.

He could have been killed tonight. She could have lost him.

She reached across the seat and laid a hand over his. He eyed her questioningly. What could she say? The truth? That she needed to touch him? To hold on to him? Hardly.

Instead she murmured her thanks.

“For what?”

“The ride, the support, coming to my rescue. For everything.”

He replied by curving his fingers around hers. They drove the rest of the way like that, hands joined, neither speaking.

When they reached her house, Alice frowned at the dark porch. “I thought I left the light on.”

Hayes stopped the car. He, too, frowned. “Sheri probably turned it off.”

“Probably.” She sounded unconvinced, even to her own ears.

“Wait here.” He squeezed her fingers, then released them. “I'll take a look.”

Fear turned the inside of her mouth to dust. She swallowed and shook her head. “No. I'll come. I'm sure you're right. Sheri probably turned the light off by accident.”

They climbed out of the car and up to the porch. Without discussion, Hayes led and they both moved quietly, even stealthily.

Hayes tried the door. It was unlocked. He looked at Alice.

She started to shake. “Sheri,” she whispered. “My God, what if—”

“Let's not jump to conclusions. She may have left it open.”

“She's never...done...” Alice wrapped her arms around herself. “Maybe we should call the police.”

“And say what? That your door's unlocked? I'll check it out.”

She caught Hayes's hand. “He had a knife.”

“I think we already established that fact,” he said wryly.

As with a will of their own, her eyes lowered to his chest, to where the knife had made a path through the weave of his sweater. She lifted her gaze back to his. “Don't do this.”

He laid his free hand against her cheek. “I'll be careful. I promise.”

She tipped her face into his caress. She couldn't lose him. Not again. She didn't ponder what that thought meant or its ramifications; there would be plenty of time for that later. “Don't do anything heroic.”

“Don't worry. I'm no hero.”

He slipped into the house. Alice watched him disappear inside, a cry lodging in her throat.
No hero?
He very well may have saved her life tonight. He'd put himself in front of a knife for her. And now...

She swallowed the thought, the fear, and instead turned all her energy and attention to the dark interior of her house. Even though she strained, she heard nothing except the thudding of her own heart, saw nothing through the window but the shadowy outlines of her furniture.

Where was Hayes now?

Alice waited, her panic compounding by the second. Her heart beat so heavily against the wall of her chest she had to hold on to the porch railing for support.

Minutes passed. They seemed like hours. They should have synchronized their watches, she thought, a bubble of hysteria rising inside her. Isn't that what they were always doing in the movies? She and Hayes should have decided on a plan of action in the event he failed to emerge from the house in a designated amount of time.

She looked at her neighbors' on the left, then right. Both houses were dark. Still, if she pounded—

“Everything's fine.”

Alice wheeled around, a hand to her throat. “Hayes! Thank God!” She launched herself into his arms.