Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
HANNAH GRACE
T he first thing to penetrate the darkness is a steady beep, followed by pain that radiates from my toes to my head where it sits throbbing in time to the noise from somewhere nearby. Bright lights tease my eyelids and make it hard to stay asleep despite the siren’s song it uses. A grip tightens on my arm and I groan as the sound changes, my upper arm protesting against the restricting cuff.
“Honey Girl?” Cole’s hand is in mine, his lips close to my ear as he whispers my name.
My head throbs as I shift it in his direction, and I have to fight to open my eyes even a sliver. It takes a moment to adjust to the brightness, but when I do, Cole’s face becomes clear—eyebrows knit in concern over brown eyes that focus on mine as he squeezes my hand.
“Cole?” I croak out.
My throat is dry, and I force a swallow before I cough in an attempt to clear the sensation. My head protests at the violent movement, and I close my eyes again as the pain takes over everything.
“Here,” he whispers.
A straw brushes my lips and I part them, sucking at the cool liquid.
“Better?”
“Mmm.” Maybe if I don’t talk, my head won’t pound so hard.
But Cole has a different idea.
“Do you remember what happened?” His question is hesitant.
Sifting through the layers of darkness, I suck in a breath as the memories rush back—a tsunami of fear and sadness mixed with relief.
It’s over. All those years of not knowing who wrote me those letters, the events of the last month—it’s all over. But I’ve also lost my best friend.
“Laura Leigh!” I sit up, fighting the pain in my head as I struggle to stand.
The staccato of the beeping machine increases, an alarm ringing as an IV pulls at my arm.
He moves fast, resting his hands against my chest.
“It’s okay, she’s safe. She’s here. The doctors checked her out and she’s talking to Murphy right now. Giving her statement.”
My body relaxes as his words sink in.
She’s safe. I’m safe.
“What do you remember?” he asks, his thumb skating over my fingers.
“Most of it.” A shudder works its way down my spine. “But not how I got here.”
“Do you know where here is?”
“I’m assuming a hospital.” The glare I shoot his direction at the stupidity of his question only backfires, making my head hurt worse.
He nods.
“We were at the front door of that house when you started to faint.”
“I remember a fuzzy black ring around my vision and then…nothing,” I say.
“Once you fainted, we called an ambulance. They checked you out and brought you here.”
“Laura Leigh?”
“Traces of Ambien in her system and a scratch on her wrists from the plastic zip tie, but otherwise she’s fine. I’m more worried about you.”
“W-where’s Zach?” My lips want to refuse to wrap around his name, and the pang in my chest is almost instantaneous.
Will it always be like this from now on?
Cole’s mouth flattens, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“The last time I saw that fucker he was screaming about being blind in the back of a squad car,” he grits out.
“Blind? Ohhh…the pepper spray.”
“You must have been too close.” He lifts a finger and runs it along the side of my eye, the sensation the same as a light breeze, but I still wince.
“Yeah.” My teeth capture my lip.
“What is it?”
I keep my gaze focused on my hands that twist in the light blanket that covers my stomach.
“I kissed him. I didn’t want to, but?—”
“Honey Girl.” He uses a thumb and index finger to lift my chin until he can look me in the eye. “Nothing you did was done willingly. You were doing whatever you could to survive. I wish you hadn’t put yourself in that position?—”
“I sent you my location.”
“I know you did, but you put yourself in danger. And while I’d love to lecture you right now, you being in a hospital bed is keeping me quiet on the subject. For now. But don’t let my silence fool you. As soon as we’re home and you’re feeling better, we’re going to talk about your decision-making skills.”
“Laura Leigh was in danger.” The panic is still very real in the pounding of my heart, and my hands grow clammy.
“I’m aware. And I know you think you were doing the right thing, but putting yourself in danger is never the right decision. You should have told me.”
“I—”
“I don’t want to argue with you right now,” he says.
If he thinks I’m going to just sit back and be lectured, he doesn’t know me that well. But I don’t want to argue with my head still pulsing. Once that disappears, different story.
“Headache?” he asks and reaches out a hand to graze my temple.
“Mmm.” I close my eyes again and try to get comfortable against the hard mattress.
“Hopefully the doctor will be in soon and they can give you something for it.”
“How long have we been here?” I ask and peek my eyes open.
He glances at a clock hanging on a wall.
“Little over an hour.”
The door opens and I tense, unable to stop myself.
“Hannah Grace!” Laura Leigh rushes forward, folding herself on top of me with her hug.
I wince, trying to push away the pain, and concentrate on my sister.
“It’s okay, Laura Leigh. I’m okay,” I murmur.
Murphy steps in behind Laura Leigh, and he and Cole have a private conversation that based on Cole’s body language isn’t going his way. Finally he nods and they both turn in my direction.
“Hannah Grace, do you think you’re up for providing a statement? Otherwise, we’ll need you to come down to the station when you’re released,” Murphy explains.
Oh. Now I understand Cole’s grizzly bear impression.
I shift my attention from Murphy to Laura Leigh. I don’t want her to have to listen to what Zach told me when she was asleep. But she beats me to the punch.
“No. I’m not a kid anymore. I was there and I don’t remember anything. I want to know what that psycho did,” she says, crossing her arms and staring at me.
Cole is no help when I look at him.
He shrugs.
“She has a point, Honey Girl,” he says.
Taking a deep breath, I blow it out, the heart rate monitor betraying my appearance of calm.
“Okay.”
Murphy moves across the room, dropping his notebook to the counter by the sink.
“Let’s start at the beginning. Tell me what happened tonight,” he says.
I start with the texts I got from Laura Leigh’s phone. The pictures, the demands, my running from the house, and sharing my location with Cole. It’s harder once I reach the point of everything Zach said, and when I get to what he said about killing for me already—something that doesn’t seem to surprise either Murphy or Cole—and his threat about me being gone permanently and what he was going to do with Laura Leigh, she starts to cry. The tears are silent, but each one is a powerful punch. She drops to the chair in the room, and I stumble to a halt.
“That’s enough,” Cole says, closing the distance between us and squeezing my hand.
I shake my head.
“Let me get the rest of this out,” I tell him.
“Honey Girl.” The name is a whisper meant only for my ears.
“I don’t want to have to keep living this over and over again.”
There’s so much in the look we share, and I pull from the strength of Cole’s grip and clear my throat, continuing the story. The kiss, the phone call to Cole that happened just before he and Murphy rushed to the door of the house, the pocket-sized pepper spray that helped tonight turn out the way it did.
Murphy’s lips twitch when I describe the small canister and the knowledge that I would only have one chance.
“I’m going to have to remember that for my sisters at Christmas,” he says.
“You know what happened next,” Cole tells Murphy.
Tension radiates through his body, but his grip on my hand remains soft.
Murphy nods, closing his notebook.
“I do. I may have more questions about your relationship with Zach and those letters.”
“I figured as much,” I sigh.
“But not tonight,” Cole says.
“No, not tonight,” Murphy agrees.
There’s a knock on the door and the doctor enters the room, eyes widening in surprise at Murphy’s presence. Granted, how often is a detective in the room with a patient, gun in plain sight?
“Murphy?” The familiarity as she says his name is clear.
So maybe it had nothing to do with a detective and everything to do with it being Murphy.
“Kristy.” He nods at her before looking at Cole. “I’ll be in touch.”
He leaves and the doctor blinks, turning her attention to me and clearing her throat.
“Sorry about that. I’m Dr. Roberts. Let’s see what’s going on, shall we?”
Three hours and a concussion diagnosis later, Murphy is dropping Cole, Laura Leigh, and me off at my house. The porch light casts a welcoming glow, and between my sister and Cole, I’m not sure which of their hovering is going to get on my nerves first.
“I’m fine,” I tell them both as they crowd either side of me on the walk to the front door.
“The doctor told you to take it easy,” Laura Leigh says.
“I can walk,” I grumble.
Although even this short walk has my head pounding again. According to the doctor, that will fade with time. It’s mostly a dull, peripheral sensation, but has moments of migraine-like intensity where I just want to hide in a dark room.
All the lights are on in the house, the same way we left them earlier.
“I’m going to get Laura Leigh pajamas so we can all go to bed,” I say.
Laura Leigh yawns before she smiles sheepishly.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. It’s late,” I tell her.
“I think you mean early,” Cole corrects.
“What time is it?” I ask, not used to being without my phone.
“About one thirty. I’ll let you do that, but before you do, where are your keys? I don’t want them out in the open, and I couldn’t find them earlier.”
Heat travels up my neck and settles in my cheeks.
“I hid them in the glove compartment of the car,” I admit.
His expression is a combination of exasperation and awe.
“I’ll be right back,” he says and presses a kiss to my temple.
“We definitely need to talk about that. When did all this happen?” Laura Leigh asks, following me to my room.
“Tomorrow. I’ll tell you almost anything you want tomorrow,” I tell her and pull out a pair of pajama pants and T-shirt for her.
“Almost anything?”
“There are some things that even a sister doesn’t need to know.”
She smiles, reaching out and wrapping me into a hug.
“You’re more than my sister. You’re my hero. Thank you for…tonight.” Her voice grows tight and when she pulls away, tears line her lashes.
Not like mine are dry either.
“Of course. You’re sure you’re going to be okay by yourself in the guest room? We can kick Cole over to that room and you can sleep here with me.” I’m not sure how Cole will feel about that, but I doubt he would protest too loudly.
“Honestly, I slept through most of it. I think I’ll be okay. But I’ll let you know.”
“You better,” I tell her.
“Promise.”
Another hug and she leaves, hugging Cole on her way to the guest room. He’s smiling as he walks in the room and closes the door.
“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile all night,” I say.
He grunts. “You were in the hospital, Honey Girl. Not much to smile about.”
“What has you smiling now?”
“Your sister demanded I keep an eye on you,” he says and shrugs out of his T-shirt.
My lips curve.
“Does she know who she’s talking to?” I ask.
I grab a second pair of pajamas and start to change, struggling with stiff muscles. I drop my pants and his breath hisses.
“Fuck,” he says, reaching out a hand and pausing before his fingers brush my hip.
“What?”
I glance down, the dark blue bruise taking up most of my hip.
“It looks worse than it feels,” I say, reminding him of what I told the doctor when we first noticed it.
“I fucking hate that you got hurt tonight,” he whispers, closing the distance between us until he can wrap his arms around me.
I wrap mine around his waist, finding his heartbeat with my cheek.
“If it were up to you, you would wrap me in Bubble Wrap.”
He huffs a laugh.
“You think you’re joking,” he says, and his arms tighten slightly before he releases me.
I groan as I slide under the covers, my body relaxing into the soft mattress.
“This feels amazing.” I run my cheek along my pillow.
He finishes changing into pajama bottoms and slides into bed as well, pulling me into his arms.
“This is better,” he says.
“Mm-hmm.” Puckering my lips, I press a kiss against the spot where his heart beats steadily.
“Good night, Honey Girl,” he whispers, his fingers drawing nonsensical patterns against my back and shoulder.
“’Night.”
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you too,” I tell him, snuggling against his chest.
Matching his breathing, I’m having a hard time staying awake, but I don’t have to.
“Sleep, Honey Girl.” His voice is a whisper.
I want to reply, but instead I drift off with Cole’s heartbeat in my ear.