Chapter Six #2
“The teacher,” Sassy confirmed. “Yes. One of the many reasons they are no longer married or speaking to one another.”
Fern peeled back the wrapper on her muffin, shaking her head. “Your family never stops being interesting.”
Too interesting, at times. Especially lately on the Colton side. “I have to see him tomorrow. Maybe I can talk him into donating one of his paintings.”
“He’s an artist like you?” she asked.
“The most eccentric one I know,” Sassy said. “He no longer sells his work. He dedicates most of his time to Indigenous rights. He took me to my first protest when I was four.”
“Do you still go to protests with him?” Fern asked.
“When he’s not being ornery,” Sassy maintained. “So, maybe once in a blue moon.”
Fern’s smile lightened the contours of her face like the sun after a rainstorm. Sassy was so pleased to see it. Her friend had had little to smile about lately. “Will you go back to art therapy when you’re released from the hospital?” she asked.
Fern thought about it. “I’m not sure.” She seemed to gauge Sassy’s reaction before she asked the next question. “Would you go with me?”
Sassy nodded. “I’d be happy to.”
Fern’s relief was palpable. Her smile, however, did not return. “I’ve been…having flashback episodes.”
Sassy’s back straightened against her chair. Concern struck her. “Are you okay?”
Fern bobbed a small nod. Uncertainty furrowed her brow. “I spoke to Ryan about it already. He told me to tell the investigators.”
“Do you think you can?” Sassy asked.
“I want to know what happened. The truth of it. Who and why. And the images…they’ve been weighing on me.
It’s vague, but… I remember men in black masks.
One was named Billy. He was the one who hurt me.
” She passed a soothing hand over the blanket folded neatly across her thighs.
“He broke my leg to keep me from running away. That’s it, really.
It’s enough to make the nightmares worse. ”
“I’m sorry,” Sassy murmured. She couldn’t contemplate what it must be like, wanting desperately to fill in the blanks in her memory and yet terrified of the images that filtered through.
She wished there was a way she could make the process easier for Fern and had consulted Ava about it.
Her cousin had simply said that companionship and constancy would go a long way toward establishing a safe bubble around Fern to cushion her from some measure of the trauma.
As if chilled, Fern drew the blankets up higher. “The investigators are coming to reinterview me tomorrow morning. Ryan offered to sit with me through it, but since he’s not part of the investigative team, they would only approve Ava being at my side.”
Sassy raised a brow. She dared anyone to stand between Ryan Colton and anything or anyone he deemed his responsibility.
Fern fell so clearly under that umbrella, there was no hiding how he felt about her from anyone who knew him.
She rearranged her feet to stand and accidentally knocked her purse over on the floor.
“Oh,” she remembered. “I brought you something. I’ve been carrying it around, meaning to give it to you.
” She rummaged through the contents of the cross-body bag and produced an item wrapped in bubble wrap. Standing, she passed it to Fern.
Fern cradled it between her hands. “You don’t have to keep bringing me things, Sassy,” she said as she unrolled it from its protective barrier.
“It’s from the gallery’s gift shop,” Sassy excused. “And it made me think of you.”
The piece fell into Fern’s lap—a small wood carving of a bear. Eagle feathers were draped across its thick, furry neck.
Fern took a slow, deep inhale as she lifted it. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Shouldn’t it be part of the auction?”
“I’ll replace it with other pieces,” Sassy pledged. “This one’s yours. Do you see the engraving on the side?”
Fern narrowed her eyes on the etching and tried to pronounce it.
“Shidziil,” Sassy corrected.
“What does it mean?” Fern asked.
Sassy offered her a smile. “‘I am strong.’”
Fern blinked several times, wrapping her fingers protectively around the bear. “Thank you.”
Sassy picked up the purse and slung it over her shoulder, winking. “Told you it was meant for you. Tell Ava I say hey. You’ll see her before I do. If you need to talk after the interview tomorrow, you know who to call.”
Fern bit her lip. “I don’t know what I would do without you Coltons.”
Sassy beamed at her as she angled for the door. “And you’ll never need to find out. We stick around…like Gorilla Glue or Whoa Daddy sauce. There’s no shaking us.”
She got the desired effect of seeing Fern’s smile re-appear. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I’m counting on it,” Sassy said before she opened the door. “Speaking of Whoa Daddy sauce, next time I pop in, I’ll stop by the Sauce Spot and pick up something messy and delicious.”
“I’ll ask the nurse for some Wet Ones, to be safe,” Fern agreed. “Be careful out there, Sassy.”
For a few precious moments, Sassy had forgotten about the truck. She kept her smile in place by sheer force of will as she waggled her fingers and left Fern’s room.
* * *
He hadn’t meant to swerve.
He’d nearly killed her. He could have flattened Haseya Colton against a building. And there was nothing and no one to blame but his own lack of focus. His complete and utter loss of control.
He hadn’t even been following her. It had been a perfectly innocent drive up Main Street on his part when he’d seen the shine of her black hair, the swing of her perfect hips…
She’d magnetized him. He’d been fixated. So much so that the next thing, he knew his off-road tires had run up and over the curb.
She’d turned, fear eclipsing her features.
For one heart-stopping moment, he’d thought she had locked eyes with him…
It had been enough for him to get ahold of himself. He’d barely had enough time to jerk the wheel before mowing her down on the sidewalk.
His pulse racked against his eardrums. He grabbed his shirt by the collar and wrestled it over his head. It was drenched in sweat.
He’d have to ditch the truck. No doubt she’d called the cops. He could only hope no one had seen his license plate number or written it down.
Was there a chance someone on Main Street had captured the whole thing on their store’s security feed?
He cursed, tossing the shirt aside. He scrubbed his hands through his hair.
There was a reason he’d changed his name. Just as there was a reason he’d returned to Dark Canyon. He remembered the assignment, everything riding on it.
He had to finish the job. Just as he had to make certain that she hadn’t recognized him.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he stared at the mussed hair growing thick across his brow, at the distinctive shade of his light-toned eyes staring back at him.
He shuffled through his toiletry bag and found the electric razor he kept there. It buzzed with efficiency when he activated it. Running his hand once more through his thick hair, he leaned close to the mirror and began his work.