Chapter 28
“I’ll see you later,” Niamh stretches up onto her toes to press a kiss to my lips, waving as she passes Silas, who is storming toward me with a box in his hand, a small white envelope taped to the front.
“You want to tell the mailman to fucking come all the way here,” Silas grunts, “Instead of dropping all your post on my doorstep.”
He thrusts the box in my direction, but I’ve barely registered his presence, not when I’m watching Niamh pull away from the Ranch, gravel crunching under tires.
“Roman,” Silas snaps.
I finally look at my brother, his expression thunderous. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I take the box.
“I’m not your fucking assistant.”
I look down at the box and the letter, but it simply has my name on it, not the address, which suggests this was dropped off by someone else.
“When did this come?” I frown, peeling the envelope off the front so I can tear into it.
“It was there this morning.”
Sliding out the contents, I find it’s a simple, brightly colored Get Well Soon card, a picture of a stuffed bear on the front with a bandaged right paw.
Opening it up, a chill runs through me.
It’s funny the things you don’t forget. Much like my grandfather’s writing I hadn’t forgotten, I also remember exactly how my father’s writing looks.
It was such a shame to hear about your accident, son, but you know how cars can be, such dangerous things really. Anything can go wrong at any time; we all know that.
You’re a lucky man.
I also hear congratulations are in order. What a pretty new wife you have. Niamh, isn’t it? That bar of hers has to be a favorite of mine to frequent. Maybe I can introduce myself, welcome her to the family.
Do feel better, son.
There’s a little gift for you in this box.
Enjoy it, and don’t forget I’m never far away. It has been a long time since we caught up, perhaps we should do that soon.
Until then.
Nausea churns in my gut as I throw the card down and rip open the box, the idle threat beneath his scrawl making my heart thump wildly.
I’m never far away.
And Niamh. He knows. He’s seen her, been near her — at her fucking bar!
Tearing away the tape sealing the sides, I get inside only to pull out two sets of cables.
“Are those brake lines?” Silas asks, a frown replacing his ire.
“Brake —” My words cut off as realization dawns. “Niamh.”
My eyes snap up, but she’s already gone, the truck out of view and probably already on the way to town.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Silas hollers as I rush in and snatch up my own keys, sprinting to my truck to throw myself inside. He got to her.
Fuck!
“Roman!” Silas chases after me, only just managing to get in the passenger side before I shove the vehicle into reverse, his door not even closed. He curses as he pulls it shut, reaching for his seat belt.
“You want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Silas demands as I speed down the long drive after my wife.
“He got to her.” I rush out. “They’re her brake lines.”
Silas’s eyes widen. “When?”
“I don’t fucking know,” I snap at him. “That box and card, it was from him. He got to her, Silas. Fuck.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Silas tries to soothe. “Those lines could be from anywhere.”
“He did it to mom,” I yell, the fields and mountains passing in a blur outside the windows. “We all fucking know it, he’s been waiting for this moment since that failed to get him what he wants. He’s going to keep fucking punishing us.”
“Breathe, Rome,” Silas urges. “Let’s just find her.”
But in my head, I’m seeing what I saw all those years ago. Pictures of the car smashed up against the tree, smoke curling up from beneath the hood. I’m remembering having to identify the body, the paleness of her skin, the gray and blue tints, the dried blood and bruising.
I only just found her; I can’t fucking lose her yet.
We finally make it to the end of the drive, and my tires skid as I turn onto the road, throwing up dust and gravel behind me. We’ve barely made it a mile when I see her or, rather, the tail end of the truck, jutting up and out of a ditch on the side of the road as smoke curls into the air.
Slamming on the brakes, I leave the engine running as my boots hit the ground and I sprint to her, jumping into the ditch to the side of the car. The cloying stench of gasoline surrounds me as the ground moves under my feet as I try to get to her, rocks and dirt shifting with my weight.
“Roman!” Silas is yelling, but I can’t think of anything else. The front of the truck is smashed up, the windows too, and when I finally get a look inside, Niamh is slumped against the deflated airbag, blood running down her face, eyes closed.
“Call a fucking ambulance!” I roar, yanking at the door handle to reach her. She’s too fucking still, and that blood… It’s splattered over the airbag, all over her face and in her hair.
“Niamh,” I beg, moving my hand to her throat as I press two fingers to her pulse point. Time seems to stop ticking; everything goes silent as I wait and I wait and then — there! Her pulse is beating steadily under my fingertips.
“Niamh, baby,” I try to wake her as I shift her body, trying to get a better look, “Sweetheart, wake up.”
“They’re on the way,” Silas says, suddenly at my side. “You shouldn’t move her.”
“I’m not fucking leaving her in there,” I growl, “How long?”
He doesn’t answer me, and I already know it’s going to be too long.
“Help me,” I snap at him, trying to keep Niamh as steady as possible as I adjust her so I can get her out of the damn truck.
He takes her legs when they’re more accessible, and we get her to the road, but I’m not waiting for the ambulance when I can get her help quicker than they can get to us.
Taking her fully from him, I cradle her to me as I get back to my truck, laying her down in the backseats before I get back behind the wheel, Silas getting in beside me.
“Her brake lines were fucking cut!” I explode at the officer taking notes by the window in the private room we were given after Niamh was taken away for treatment.
She still wasn’t awake by the time we got to the hospital, which had sent me into a fucking spiral.
Now I’m barely hanging on. It’s been an hour since they took her, and I’ve not heard a single peep from a nurse or doctor about her condition.
“Sir,” The officer attempts to placate me, “I just need to understand why you think that.”
My head snaps to him. “This isn’t fucking happening again. You failed my mother; you will not fail her too.”
“Roman,” Silas steps up, blocking the officer from view, “Not now.”
“I’m not wrong,” I hiss. “They did fail her. He’s still free because they refused to even investigate it. I’m not letting this one go, though. Not this time. I’m not losing my fucking wife.”
“I understand your concern,” The monotone response from behind Silas has my blood heating even further. I’m on the fucking edge right now, and this moron isn’t helping. “We have officers investigating the scene.”
“And you’ll find no skid marks,” I say to him, “No ice. A nice clear fucking road. He tried to hurt my wife, and he will do it again if you don’t do something about it.”
“Who?”
“My father.” I hold his stare, “Jenson Knight.”
It still pisses me off that he has my mother’s surname — something he calculated, even back then when they got married. He came from nothing, married into something, so why not take the surname that has power?
The officer hesitates for a moment before he writes the name down on his pad and then flips it closed. “I will need to speak with Miss Calloway when she’s more stable.”
“Mrs.” I correct.
“Mrs. Calloway,” The officer says, “Someone will be here when that time comes. If you have any questions or can provide any more information, please call this number and cite your reference.”
When the officer finally leaves, I slump into a chair and grip my head in my hands, staring down at the cold linoleum floor beneath my boots. He’ll get away with it. He won’t stop, not until he proves a point or gets what he wants.
And we all know what he wants, what he has always wanted.
Knight Falls Ranch.
Silas’s hand lands on my shoulder before he gives it a squeeze. “She’ll be okay, brother.”
I shake my head. “She won’t be safe though. She’s his new target to get to me. How could I have let this fucking happen?”
It’s a cruel twist that he fucking cut her brake lines. I’ve no doubt that’s what he did with my mother too.
The door to the room pushes open, and a nurse pops her head around the corner. “Mr. Knight?”
I’m immediately on my feet. “Is she awake?”
“She is,” She smiles softly, “You can see her now.”