Head Start (Cedar Tree #7) (30 page)

“He’s Kendra’s,” I clarify. “I’m thinking she’s gonna need him.” My words instantly weigh down the room.

“Dr. Waters?” A nurse stands in the doorway, looking at Naomi. “You asked me to let you know? She’s in three.”

“Thanks, Amy.” Naomi smiles at her before turning to me. “Come with me.”

I have to hold myself from barreling over her to get to the door. About fucking time. Outside of a door just down the hall, she holds me back. “She’s gonna be groggy and probably starting to feel pain. People aren’t always themselves when they wake up from anesthesia.”

“I’m aware, Naomi, and for your information, she wasn’t exactly herself after that monster carved into her,” I say a bit too sharply, making her wince, but she doesn’t seem to take it personal and steps aside to let me by.

A contraption over the bed with a chain elevating her right leg makes her look even smaller. The head of the bed is raised, so she is almost sitting, I guess to keep pressure off the injuries to her back.  Her face is turned away from the door and angled toward the window. In the reflection, I can see her staring into the ink black night. I walk up to the bed. I know she can hear me when her shoulders draw up to her ears. Defensive mode. Leaving that space she seems to need, I stay on this side of the bed and pull up a chair. Her hand, the wrist bandaged, is lying on top of the bedding and her fingers don’t stop moving. I cover her hand with mine and lightly stroke my thumb over her skin. The sound of her voice shocks me.

“Is he dead?” She sounds hoarse, the tone is ice cold.

“Baby...” I manage before she turns to face me. Now her eyes aren’t empty—they are full of anger.

“Tell me. Did you kill him?” she insists, and I drop my head against her shoulder, needing her touch.

“I don’t know.” My voice is muffled. “I wanted to. I couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything but rage. They stopped me. Mal. And Caleb. They pulled me off him and then I came to you.”

Her face is blank, but with eyes holding fire, she just stares at me for a moment. “I hope you did,” she says, turning her head back to the window. “And I hope he rots in hell.”

K
endra

I hurt.

I can feel the effects of the drugs fading and the pain invades my senses. But I won’t push the button the nurse handed me. You can self-administer, she’d said. But I want to feel the pain. I want it to overwhelm me so I have no room in my head to think of him. Instead I find myself thinking of the man sitting on the other side of the bed. Neil. He almost made me believe I could have him. Hold him. But I can’t. He’s young, God he’s still so young, he’ll find someone better suited. Someone who still believes in the possibility of a happy life. I... I can’t. I no longer believe it’s possible.

-

“L
et’s try and get you something to eat.”

A nurse with a gentle smile stands beside my bed when I open my eyes to her voice. I must’ve been sleeping, because it was dark again outside. I can’t even get my head around what day it is. I blink my eyes against the diffused light in the room and notice it is empty. He’s gone. Resigned, I close my eyes. “Not hungry,” I manage on a croak.

“Nonsense,” the girl says matter-of-factly and examines the read out on the IV pump beside the bed, before turning to me with concern in her eyes. “Why haven’t you used your pump?”

I haven’t because the pain is almost welcome. I can
feel
it, whereas I can’t seem to feel much else. It shields me from reality, which is much more terrifying now than the pain. As long as I have the pain to hold on to, perhaps my mind won’t break apart the way I’m afraid it will, given the chance.

“There, I’ve given you a dose so you can eat. I’ll bring you some toast and broth in a minute. Something in your stomach will do you good,” she says as she turns toward the door.

“Where is...?” The unfinished question slips from my lips before I can check it. Unfortunately the nurse seems to know who I’m talking about and she smiles.

“Your young man said he’d be back. He left his number in case you needed him. Dr. Waters came in this afternoon and sent him off. Said he needed a shower, food and sleep, in that order. You’re a lucky woman; he hasn’t left your side in two days.”

Wait, two days?

“Two days?” I question out loud. “I’ve been out of it for two days?”

Her face softens as she approaches the bed again. “It’s not that unusual. You were mostly drifting in and out. General anesthetic can do that to some people. So can shock. Sometimes the body and mind go on hiatus for a bit. Give you time to heal. You’ve been through considerable trauma both physically and mentally and sometimes it takes time to process that.”

“I don’t remember...” I admit, feeling a little lost. I’ve lost two days. They’re just gone.

“Let me get someone to sit with you while I grab you a tray,” she says before walking out. I don’t even have a chance to tell her I don’t want anyone.

Maybe a minute later, my mother walks in. “Hey, my girl.” She bends down to give me a kiss and sits down on the chair beside the bed. “So glad both my girls are going to be okay,” she says with a sniff.

“Karly... how’s Karly? Is she okay?”
My sister
. I forgot. I can’t believe I forgot. Yet another layer of guilt is added as I listen to my mother talk.

“She’ll be right as rain, just as you will. A few stitches to close the cut on her head and she stayed one night for observation. You have wonderful friends, Kenny. We were looking for a hotel to stay here in Cortez and your friend Emma offered us her guesthouse.”

I don’t know why it makes me cry, but it does. It makes me cry hard and suddenly those pieces I was hoping the pain would help keep together, are falling apart. I’m literally coming undone at the thought of my mother and sister sticking around. For me. I’m ashamed that my initial reaction is surprise when Mom says she and Karly are staying. I would for either of them, so why would I even question they’d do the same for me? Was I that judgmental? Or insecure? Am I a bad person? Is that why this happened to me? My head is spinning with a cesspool of emotions. Self-recrimination, guilt, regret, doubt, fear and anger. Holy schnikes, the anger. At that
man
and at myself. And I feel so sad. So, so very sad for those women who suffered in a way I unfortunately am now familiar with. I can’t help but think their death must’ve come as a relief when it finally did. It would’ve for me. I wished it. Round and round in my head it churns and I can feel pieces of my sanity breaking apart as hysteria creeps up. I don’t notice Mom calling for help, I just know she has when the smiling nurse from earlier walks in with Naomi. The next thing I know I’m falling, tumbling down a rabbit hole toward darkness.

N
eil

I hated leaving Kendra, but between Naomi’s motherly concern and Damian’s incessant texts to contact him, I finally caved and left her side. For the past few days, she’s been mostly out of it, except for the few times when her eyes would open. The blank look was there again and each time she’d tell me to leave. To leave her be. Then she’d drift off again. I feel fucking helpless, sitting there not being able to comfort or ease her. Useless. Two days to give every memory of that night the time to become engraved in my mind. Torture for years to come. Her surgeon came in this morning to check the wounds on her back and asked me if I was sure I wanted to stay. Fuck no, I’m not sure, but I’m not leaving either. Cleaned and mostly stitched up, the sight of her back was almost worse, more gruesome, than it had been that night. With horrifying precision, he had carved the beginnings of wings in her flesh. The doctor commented that she would likely be left with substantial scarring, but that they would refer her to a good plastic surgeon. I didn’t bother responding. He must’ve thought I was or would be repulsed at the condition of her back, at least that’s what it sounded like. Nothing could be further from the truth. Oh, I’m repulsed alright, but by the butcher who was able to do this to her. There isn’t anything that would change the way I see Kendra. Not a damn thing.

During the entire examination, Kendra only made the occasional sound of discomfort, but never quite woke up. I was glad for that. By the time the doctor left and Elsa came in with Naomi, I was wrung out. I guess that’s why I finally gave in and headed home for a quick shower and a bite at the diner.

“How is she doing?” Arlene asks the moment I sit down at the counter. It’s quiet, being that it’s seven thirty on a Sunday night and most folks have already come and gone.

“I don’t know,” I admit. And I don’t. Sure, physically she’ll heal, although she might be left with a slight limp, and have difficulty running. The wounds on her back will heal as well, but there will be constant reminders of the ordeal she survived and there is no way to gauge the emotional impact this all will leave behind. That’s what worries me most.

“She’ll get through it,” Arlene says, putting her hand on my arm. “She’s strong. It’ll take some time, but she’ll get there.” Arlene would know, a victim of a brutally violent crime herself. She may not have outward scars to identify her, but she has some deep emotional ones she’s had to deal with.

“Thanks.” I smile at her, trying to communicate how well aware I am that she knows what she’s talking about. She’s worn those shoes.

“Let me feed you. Special is chili today. Are you game?”

I nod. I’m not really hungry but recognize the need to eat. Unusual for me, since I always seem to be hungry, but the last few days have taken their toll. I’m sick with worry. Scared that the tentative progress I made before Friday night will not be enough to bind her to me. Afraid that if she persists her repeated pleas for me to leave her, it will eventually be too painful for me to resist. A reminder she put her trust in me and I failed her. I told her I’d keep her safe and I didn’t. Another mark on my soul.

When Arlene puts a steaming bowl and a cold bottle of beer in front of me, I notice Seb standing behind her in the kitchen doorway.

“Hey.” I’m surprised to see the strained look on his face as he bites off the greeting. It also doesn’t escape me that Arlene shoots some furtive glances his way.

“Good chilli,” I try, lifting a bite on my spoon before shoving it in my mouth. It is good. Wholesome and spicy, with just the right amount of heat, and loaded with meat, beans and vegetables. From under my eyebrows I see him slowly approaching.

“She gonna be okay? Kendra?”

And suddenly it hits me. Guilt. I might as well be looking in the mirror, because now it’s clear as day what I’m seeing on his face. “Look,” I start, putting my spoon down, “she’ll be fine. She’ll heal.”

Seb busies himself with the glasses on the shelves against the wall before turning back to me. “I’m—”

I don’t even let him start, let alone finish as I shove my bowl out of the way and lean forward on the counter. “No. None of this is on you. It’s on me. I promised I’d protect her and I didn’t. It’s—”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Arlene suddenly blows up. “Would you two knock it off? Are we having a piss-off on who is the guiltiest here? Shall I weigh in? I’m the one who let her go to the bathroom and didn’t see her slip out.” She wards off any protest with her hands up. “Enough already. Yes, she got hurt. And yes, it’ll leave its mark, but you have to realize she made the choice to use herself to save her sister. And I can fucking guarantee you she would do it again. In a goddamn heartbeat. So stop taking ownership of something that is not even yours to own!” She tosses her towel in our general direction when she stomps by toward the kitchen. “Men are so stupid,” I can hear her mumble as she disappears.

Seb shrugs and takes off after her, leaving me to myself, but not for long.

“Thought I might find you here,” Gus says as he walks in and sits down beside me. “Emma mentioned you’d taken a break when she called me from the hospital. I thought you might like an update.”

I lower the bottle of beer I just lifted to my lips. “Tell me.” I turn on my stool to face him. For two days I’ve avoided everything by being plastered to Kendra’s bedside, but now I want to know.

“First off, Beth and Clint dropped in on Saturday. They’d gone over to the house with an insurance claim adjuster and had a look at the damage. Good news is, whatever Kendra had in the bedrooms or bathroom is salvageable. Bad news is, whatever wasn’t in there is toast. Clint says he can get his brother down here and between the two of them and their crews, they can have it fixed in a month, maybe two. He doesn’t suspect any problems with the insurance company, but apparently Beth has decided it is finally time to sell. Doesn’t look like her son will be coming back to live in Cedar Tree and—”

“I’m buying it.” I’m not sure where that came from, but now that I’ve put it out there, I like the idea. I’ve always liked the house, and I know Kendra loves it. So I’m buying it. I can see Gus isn’t so sure.

“Are you sure you can afford to? I mean, I’ll help—“

“Gus,” I cut him off. “Spent years in the military with nothing to spend my money on. And since coming to work for GFI, have you ever seen me spend more than is absolutely necessary? I’ve got savings, investments. Substantial ones.”