Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
Through my delirium voices sound garbled. Scout’s arms lock so tightly around me, I wonder if he’s going to crush me. He carries me up the hill, scrambling deftly up the muddy incline as if it’s nothing. Below us I numbly observe people hustling quickly. Equipment being moved.
It all feels so far away. Like a nightmare I’m observing from above.
I’m so astounded at what I did, I feel dissociated from my body.
Scout puts me in the truck and leans his arm on the doorframe. He scrubs his hand over his face, as if he’s trying to reconcile what he saw too.
“Are you okay?”
The softness in his tone shreds me even more. But when he then threads his fingers between mine I wonder why. Why would Scout even want to breathe the same air as a woman that’s broken as badly as I am?
I pounded on a dead man’s chest.
Full stop.
I’m so far off the rails, I don’t even know who I am any more.
As a shadow falls over the truck, Scout pulls away. Moving quickly, he buckles me in and closes the door. Before I can see who is outside, he leans back against the truck, blocking my view.
Also blocking anyone on the outside from seeing how destroyed I am.
No staring at the crazy girl.
I can’t hear their words, but the vibe is clear. It’s a tense conversation. Scout rubs the back of his neck, and re-sets his ball cap twice.
They’re definitely talking about me.
My ears aren’t burning. My whole body is. The scars around my wrists are the center of the radiating fire.
Not only did I attack a dead man, I screamed that he is… was a rapist.
My rapist.
Fisting my hair, I rock forward in the seat until I’m bent at the waist, staring at my boots.
God. I’m a monster.
And Adam might be alive.
Adam, my attacker is breathing. And now everyone knows.
The conflict tearing at my insides threatens to rip me to shreds. When I saw him on that backboard, eyes open toward the sky, his sightless gaze and his pale skin cold and waxy, a dark, broken part of me wanted him dead.
Gone. Forever .
I would never have to see him again.
Yet, I also wanted him alive so someday he might pay for what he did to me.
Rubbing my hand over my chest, I pray for relief from the pain. It’s too much. I can’t handle it any more.
I collapse back into the seat, the weight of this horrible day crushing me until I’m nothing but ragged breaths, icy hands and trembling muscles. What’s left of my heart is throbbing painfully in my chest, the beat uncertain whether it wants to race or stall.
I startle when the door opens and find my brother’s worried face peering down at me through the opening.
“I didn’t protect you from him.”
The agony in his voice drives a stake through me. “Griff, please don’t.”
There’s a thick sheen coating his eyes as he stares at the ground. Outside the truck, I can hear his boot scuffing back and forth against the roadway.
“I’m not letting anything happen to you again.”
I reach for him, fisting my hand in his shirt. “You didn’t do this Griff. He did. I did. I’m the one who trusted him.”
He makes a rough sound. “A brother never forgives himself when something happens to his little sister.”
“Well, you have to recognize I’m a grown woman.”
Griff reaches inside the truck. His calloused hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “You will always be my little sister.”
The tears that were blocking my throat rush to the back of my eyes. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“You were in shock.”
“I’m really angry,” I admit. “I need to go back to counseling.”
“When did this happen? ”
Pained, I press my lips together. “Right before I came to work with you.”
Recognition widens his eyes before they turn to angry slits. “I knew something was wrong.”
“I never wanted you to find out.”
“I want to go down there and choke the life out of him again.”
“No!” I tug his shirt. “You have to leave this alone.”
His hand moves to my hair and he strokes it down the tangled strands. “You know I won’t be able to do that.”
When he steps back, Scout quickly steps into the gap. He leans down and presses a kiss to my temple. “The medic is going to take a look at you.”
I laugh without humor. “So they can commit me?”
He doesn’t reply. Scout, being the guy who seems to be carrying me all the time—picks me up and walks to the ambulance with me tight against his chest. His whole body is vibrating with tension.
When I emerge a while later, I’m medicated. Sedated. Given something to take the edge off because they don’t like what the heart rate monitor says.
So the thing can read broken hearts—who knew?
I don’t even remember the ride back to the farm. All I know is when I wake up in the night the room is dark and I’m alone.