Chapter Five #3
“He’ll be examined by a psychologist,” Venmar told her. “We want you to be informed and prepared. His very-much-alive mother hired a legal team. There’s a lot of family money. He has a trust fund.”
Closing her eyes again, Arden nearly laughed. “He—he said he was stocking shelves at Costco.”
“No. He’s been living off his trust fund.”
“He wanted me to feel sorry for him, to relate. An orphan, losing his parents as a teenager, trying to write.”
Panic bubbled up again, so her voice came raw with fear as well as pain. “Will he get out? Lawyers, expensive lawyers, will he get out?”
“We’re going to get that recording. In addition to that, we have solid evidence, including the photographs the officers who responded last night took of your injuries.
Your medical reports. Your statement, your neighbors’ statements.
We’ll do everything we can do to make sure he goes to prison for a long time. ”
She looked at Brill, wanted to trust that. “I thought he’d kill me. Rape me, then kill me. He wanted to. That’s what was in his eyes.”
As they walked out, Brill looked at her partner. “She’s not wrong.”
“Then let’s keep his ass where it belongs. Let’s go get the recording.”
Because rest and more rest, tests and more tests were the orders of her stay, they limited Arden’s visitors. But not her flowers.
She sat in the hospital bed, hoping she’d passed the morning’s tests and could go home. Surrounded by flowers. From her family, from her neighbors, from her coworkers, from friends.
And stroked the little purple dragon Zoey had brought her. Her support animal. Though Arden had laughed it off at the time, she had to admit, it worked. So did the flowers.
Maybe she’d be stuck here another day, but she had the comfort of knowing people cared. When the anxiety crept in, or more often flooded over her, she needed to remember that.
Arden put on a smile she hoped looked genuine when Zoey came in.
“No word yet on my parole,” Arden began.
“Actually, there is. Mom’s out there dealing with your discharge papers. You’re going to have a long list of dos and don’ts.” She handed Arden a protein drink. “Protein’s one of the dos. Drink.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, drink it.”
“I mean, I can go home?”
“You’re sprung. The doctor will be in soon to go over the dos and don’ts, which you’ll promise to do and not do.”
The relief was so huge, her insides trembled with it.
“Solemnly. I’m going to get dressed, see if I can do something with my face.”
“Arden, get dressed, but as your loving cousin and best pal, I’m going to tell you there’s not enough makeup in the world, there are no sunglasses big enough to cover your face at this time.”
As she’d seen her face, she knew her loving cousin and best pal spoke truth.
“Maybe I could borrow that thing Uncle Doug uses to spackle.”
“Not even then.” Zoey gave Arden’s shoulder a gentle pat-pat. “I could run out, buy one of those hats with the long, thick black veils.”
“I bet the vintage shop would have one. How long would it take you to get it back here?”
“Oh, it shouldn’t take longer than never.”
“That works.”
She got out of bed, slowly, as recommended. They’d already brought her fresh clothes, just sweats for comfort.
“I’m skipping the bra.”
“With those little girls, you could skip the bra daily and no one would notice.”
“You just like to brag because you actually have tits.”
“I do, and they’re fabulous. Here, let me help. Your shoulder still has to hurt.”
“Not much.”
Zoey thought the ugly rainbow of bruises there, the other splotch on Arden’s hip indicated otherwise, but said nothing.
“You’re starting to sound like yourself again.”
“Nearly there. To my ear it just sounds like I smoke a couple packs a day. Swallowing’s getting easier.”
When Zoey just put her arms around her, held on, Arden wondered who comforted whom. Then understood they comforted each other.
“Have you heard anything about him?”
“They had a bail hearing. Denied,” Zoey said quickly, when Arden went stiff. “Dad went, and said the bastard’s mother was there.”
Arden only sighed. “That would be the mother who died of cancer years ago.”
“Yeah, that one. I know they ordered a psych eval. I’m not going to tell you not to worry about him, but I am going to tell you to focus on yourself, your health and recovery.”
“That’s the plan.”
Jen came in with the doctor.
“In a hurry to leave our fine establishment?”
“I’d hate to overstay my welcome.”
“Why don’t we sit down, discuss your parting package?”
“Zoey and I will go load up your flowers while you talk to the doctor.”
“Thanks.”
Arden sat on the side of the bed, took a breath. “So what are my orders?”
“First, you’ve got family support. Use it.”
“They don’t give me much of a choice.”
“And that’s not going to change,” Jen said as she and Zoey carried out the first load.
“Good for them. Now, walking’s fine. Walking’s good. The same goes for soft food. No strenuous or impact exercise for the next ten days. Your aunt scheduled your follow-up, so we’ll reevaluate in ten days.”
As the doctor went over Arden’s discharge instructions, Theresa Lester sat on the other side of the glass from her son.
A slightly built woman, she’d dressed in a gray Armani suit and styled her pale blond hair in a smooth twist. She wore her wedding ring set with its flashing diamonds—she’d found what she’d wanted and needed with her second husband.
On her right, she wore the square-cut emerald he’d given her for their tenth anniversary only the month before because he said it matched her eyes.
She loved her son, and though she believed she’d done her best for him, she knew she’d failed. She’d failed the demanding child, the surly teen, and the troubled young man who smiled at her through the glass.
Nothing had worked. The attention, the rewards, the discipline, the counseling, the schools, the privileges, or the removal of privileges.
She’d had one job as a mother: to raise a happy, healthy, responsible human being. And had failed utterly.
She couldn’t fail him now.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Dustin?”
“I told you. How many times do I have to tell you? You need to talk to Arden.”
“Your lawyer has told me, adamantly, not to do that.”
He scowled. She knew that look. She’d seen it on his face all his life. She’d swear even as an infant he’d looked at her with that same annoyed disgust.
“Who’s more important to you? Me or the lawyer?”
“You are, Dustin. But the lawyer’s looking out for your best interests. He thinks—”
“You need to talk to Arden. She has to tell them the truth. I don’t like it here. I’m not going to stay here. Make her tell the truth.”
“Dustin, you hurt her. You—”
“She made me! She wouldn’t stop playing games. She had to learn a lesson. She knows better now, so you go tell her she needs to stop this shit. I forgive her.”
It chilled her. How often had Dustin’s father insisted she had to learn a lesson? He hadn’t taught those lessons with his fists, but his words, oh, his words had bruised and battered.
Abuse cycled. She knew it, she knew it very well. And she’d do anything to save her son, her only child, from perpetuating that cycle.
“Dustin, the most important thing now is to get you the help you need. Your lawyer’s arranging for you to speak to a psychiatrist.”
“I already talked to a stupid shrink. I want—”
“This would be ours, an expert, and we believe we can have you moved to a place where you can get help, and you’ll be safe.”
He leaned forward, and yes, she’d seen that look in his eyes before. That hard, glittering, frightening look.
“Fuck you. You never gave me what I wanted. You never loved me. You sucked as a mother just like you sucked as a wife. If you’d learned your lesson, you’d have stayed married to Dad, you’d have known your place, you’d have taken care of our family.”
Theresa didn’t defend herself—she knew the futility of that.
“I’ll do everything I can to get you into a safe place.”
“My place is with Arden. If you want to make up for breaking our family, for always putting yourself first, go talk to Arden, tell her I forgive her, and I’m going to take care of her.”
Now his eyes shined with tears.
“Please, Mom. You’ll see how special she is. You’ll see how we’re meant for each other. I need her, Mom. I can’t live without her.”
“I’ll do the best I can for you.”
Tears still shining, he smirked. “Your best never measured up. Do better.”
The sinking sensation in her heart, in her belly stayed with her when she left. She hadn’t just failed as a mother, she thought.
She’d raised a monster.