Nila's Hope (23 page)

He laughed again. “My parole officer thinks I'm in La Ronge. What a bonehead.”

His expression darkened, and he leaned forward as he thumped the knife on the counter. “No one can tell me what to do. Not my PO, not your God. No one controls me. I'm claiming what's owed me. And you, my
dear
, owe me big time.”

“Wh—what do you mean?” She glanced from Nick to the door. No, she couldn't. Even if she could get out, there was no way she'd leave the children.

He took a soundless step closer, like a cat stalking a mouse. “What do I mean? You sent me to jail.” With each hissed word his voice rose. “I lost everything—my house, my truck, my job, my freedom. It's. All. Your. Fault.”

“Be quiet.” Her voice carried steel. “Don't you dare wake the children.”

“I'll do whatever I want.”

His voice was quieter, but the wildness in his eyes strafed her nerves. She looked away.

Without warning he lunged.

She jumped back. A little too late. The tip of his blade sliced her forearm. She was shocked to see a line of blood appear. Dark red drops fell onto the floor. Nila grabbed a paper towel and pressed it against the incision.

“So you're not made of stone.” He wiped the blade on his sleeve. “Good to know, since I've got plans for you.”

How could she have ever thought he loved her? She'd been so naive. Nila shuddered.

Where was El Roi?

She backed up again, but he followed step for step. An idea steadied her. She had to keep him talking. “What plans?”

His glittering gaze sent shivers through her. “It will be slow, sweetheart. I'm going to make you suffer. Like you made me. First you and then those brats upstairs. And when your boyfriend gets back from dealing with that dumb redhead, he's going to be overcome with grief and kill himself.” His eyes glittered with evil intent. “Triple murder-suicide. It'll make all the networks. But
I'll
still be in La Ronge. Free and clear.”

Fear crept into her voice in spite of her efforts. “You won't get away with this. You can't!”

He laughed, and it was the cackle of a madman. “I don't care. I'm never going back to prison.” He opened his arms wide. “So do your worst.”

A strange, warm peace filled her, and she lifted her chin. And prayed aloud. “Father God, You are here, and You see what Nick is doing. You know his plans. You alone are God. You are in control.”

He growled, lunged, and grabbed her by her sore arm. He twisted it behind her until she thought it would break. “You're gonna pay for that.” He pushed her toward the stairs, his knife pricking her back. “Let's go see those two brats. They need to learn not to play with knives, don't they?”

Nila's stomach heaved. She could hardly breathe. She tried to pull away, but his grip on her arm and the knife at her back restrained her. Her prayer for help was silent and urgent. They moved up five steps, then two more. From the depths of her memory a self-defence move surfaced. She faked a misstep on the stairs.

Nick's grip lessened, and she swung her elbow back with all her strength. It connected with his nose. He yelped and released her arm. “You little…”

She whirled around and smacked him in the face with the heel of her hand.

He swore, thrust his knife, and slipped on the carpet.

Nila fell against the top step and watched in horror as Nick tumbled down the stairs.

His arms and legs flailed. His arm cracked against the wall.

The knife flew in an arc and dropped in front of the door.

He howled with each impact.

The sound bounced off the walls and ceiling and into Nila's soul.

After what seemed like hours, Nick lay sprawled at the bottom of the stairs with his neck at an impossible angle. His body shuddered and went still.

Nila's heart pounded in the sudden quiet. She strained to hear.

Jessica and Tommy couldn't have slept through that, could they?

She had to check on them. She grabbed the railing, but dizziness hit hard. She looked down. Her blue sweater seemed to be turning red. She tugged at the hem and exposed a long gash near the bottom of her ribcage. She stared in disbelief. “Rats. That was my favorite sweater.” It ended on a whimper.

Then pain pulsed from her side and arm.

She watched, fascinated, as black spots danced and grew. She scooted against the wall, pressed her hand to her side, and prayed as darkness engulfed her.

 

 

 

 

26

 

“Can't you go any faster?” Will sat in the front seat of the police car, leaning forward as though that would help. The screaming siren and flashing lights did nothing to calm his nerves.

The cop barely glanced at him. “You could be wrong, you know. Just take it easy. We'll be there soon.”

“I can't take it easy. I know they're in danger.” He leaned back and forced himself to slow his breathing. He tried to keep his frustration out of his voice. “Take this corner.”

“I know my way around the city.”

“Just hurry.”

As soon as they rounded the corner, flashing lights confirmed that the ambulance and other police had already arrived.

Will jumped out of the car before it came to a complete stop. He ran past the cop who yelled at him to halt. He skidded just outside the open door.

A cloth-covered figure was at the bottom of the stairs.

His shoulders slumped. His knees nearly gave out. His heart must have stopped.

“Where's that stretcher?” someone called.

Will looked higher on the stairs, and air filled his lungs again. “Nila.”

A paramedic with a gurney pushed past him, stepped around the body on the landing, and headed for Nila's semi-prone figure.

The other paramedic stood to assist his partner.

That gave Will a clear view of Nila's blood-soaked sweater. He sagged against the doorway.

She couldn't die.

His groan became a prayer. “Please, God.”

They moved her onto the stretcher, and her eyelids fluttered open. “Will?”

A cop held him back, so he raised his voice. “I'm here, sweetheart. You're going to be fine.”

The paramedics carried the gurney down the stairs. As they neared the doorway, Nila reached for him. He enclosed her icy hand in his own.

The paramedics paused.

Will flashed them a grateful look. He leaned down to hear Nila's faint whisper.

“The kids—are they all right? I—I couldn't...”

He swallowed a huge lump of fear. He didn't know, but she needed reassurance. “I'm sure they are.” He faced the stairs. “I can't hear them. They must be asleep.”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head.

A paramedic checked her pulse. “We've got to go,” he said to Will. “You can follow us if you'd like.”

They moved efficiently to the ambulance. Within moments, Nila was inside, and the doors closed.

Will stood frozen. He didn't have a vehicle. His was back at his mom's.

The ambulance pulled away and felt his heart go with it. But then, Nila's question echoed. The kids. He had to check on Jess and Tommy.

Tires squealed. Jason slammed his vehicle to a stop in front of the house, and then Faith ran up the sidewalk. Faith cried out, “Jessie! Tommy!” She grabbed Will's arm. “Who got hurt? Where are my kids? What happened?”

Will backed away as Jason caught up to them. “I haven't gotten inside yet. Nila's hurt, but the kids…I don't know.”

Jason wrapped his arm around his wife and pulled her to the house.

She hung back, inches from Will. Her face twisted, and she beat on his chest. “I trusted you,” she sobbed. “You promised to take care of them.”

They disappeared into the house.

Will sank onto the ice-cold step. His sister was right. He had failed. Just like before. First Vixen, and now Nila. And probably his niece and nephew. He dropped his head onto his hands.

Nick had won after all.

He sat there as the cold seeped into his bones. It burned with a painful numbness. He didn't care. Nothing mattered.

One of the officers tapped his shoulder. “Excuse me, but your sister needs you upstairs.”

He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his parka and stood on shaky legs.

The cop nodded toward the stairs.

Will climbed them. Trepidation slowed his steps. He reached for the doorknob and paused. Regret held him captive. How could they ever forgive him?

Jason opened the door, motioned him inside, and closed it behind him. “We don't want them to see the mess out there.”

Dread's terrible weight lifted as he took in the scene.

Faith cradled Jessica on her lap and kissed her over and over while Tommy slept peacefully in his father's arms.

“Jessie was awake, but calm, and as you can see, this little guy didn't stir.” Jason shook his head. “Incredible.”

Jessica wiggled away from her mother's kisses and waved. “Hi, Hunky Unky. Where Ni-ya?”

Will swallowed hard and knelt beside the daybed. He stroked her cheek, marveling at its softness, its wholeness. “Hi, sweetie. Auntie Nila's busy right now, but you can see her later.”

She leaned into his touch. “O-kay. Where Deb-o-rah?”

Will looked at Faith, who stared back, questions in her eyes.

They both looked at Jason.

He shrugged and shook his head.

“Who is Deborah, sweetheart?” Faith asked, a frown creasing her forehead.

Jessica snuggled against her mother. “She nice. Shiny yady, yike yite.” She pointed at Tommy's angel nightlight and sat up straight. “She sing-ed to me and Tommy when bad man ye-wed.” Her eyes widened, and her lower lip trembled. “Bad man gone?”

Will closed his eyes, but he could still see the covered form at the foot of the stairs.

Faith squeezed Jessica so tightly she whimpered. “Yes, baby girl, the bad man is gone.”

“O-kay. I wuv you, Mommy.” She turned to smile at her father and uncle. “I wuv you, Daddy and Hunky Unky.”

She leaned against Faith's chest. “And I wuv Deb-o-rah, too. My ange-o.”

The three adults shared a look.

Will leaned against the wall. He stared at the angelic nightlight.

So God had sent an angel to guard the little ones. Good. They deserved it. But didn't Nila, too?

 

****

 

Nila woke slowly. Her brain felt foggy. She opened her eyes. Too bright. She tried to shade them with her hand, but it seemed to be stuck. She tried to sit up. Pain pushed her back against the pillows, and she moaned.

Will appeared above her, new lines framing his puffy, red eyes. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

She tried to speak, but it came out as a croak. Will held a straw to her mouth, and she sipped cool water. She pushed the straw away with her tongue. “Where am I? What happened?”

Will replaced the water jug and pulled his chair close to the bed. “You're in the hospital. Don't you remember?”

Images flashed. “Nick. I killed him.” She closed her eyes and moaned.

“He nearly killed you.” Will's features hardened.

She struggled to remember. Fear cracked her voice. “Jessie? Tommy?”

Will cradled her cold hand in his, and the warmth infused her heart. “They're fine. Pretty much slept through the whole thing.”

“Really?” Her whole life depended on his answer.

“Yes, they're perfectly healthy. Probably wrecking my house by now. They're all staying with me until the cops are done with the crime scene.”

Nila turned and stared at the wall. “But they could have been hurt. I ruined everything. People are suffering because of me.” The brightness of the room seemed to dim. She was consumed by gloom. When she spoke again, her voice rasped. “I killed a man. There were times I wished he was dead, and now he is.” Despair conquered, and hope vanished. She didn't deserve anything good. She faced Will, and even though her mouth trembled, she forced the words out. “Leave me, Will. I'm no good. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

“But Nila…”

She shook her head. “Please, don't. I can't handle it. Just go away.”

She closed her eyes and waited.

Finally he released her hand, and warmth was replaced by barrenness. The chair scooted back as he stood, but she refused to look as his steps moved toward the door. They paused. His voice was low and full of pain. “Goodbye, Nila.”

Then he was gone.

She pressed her face against her pillow and sobbed.

 

 

 

 

27

 

Will's mind was on spin cycle as he strode down the hall. After he'd spent the whole night in that hard chair beside her bed, this was her thanks? She just kicked him out? He growled at a passing nurse, and her shocked look brought satisfaction—and shame. He reached the busy waiting room, found an empty seat, and sank into it. His shoulders slumped. He bowed his face onto his open hands.

Nila said she was no good, but he was the one who had failed. Again. He'd left her alone after promising to stay. She deserved better. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should leave her alone. He couldn't protect her, so what good was he? He groaned aloud and lifted his head.

Several people stared.

He pushed to his feet and walked outside. Bitter cold sucked his breath away, but he inhaled deeply and accepted its punishment. As he fastened his seatbelt, a police car pulled into the lot.

Constable Roth got out and headed into the hospital.

The urge to confront nearly overwhelmed him. If that cop had listened, had believed Nila, she wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed. And his sister and her family wouldn't be displaced. And even Nick—he would be back in jail where he belonged instead of on a slab in the morgue. He stared daggers at the cop's back as anger boiled through him.