Chapter 34
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
Ezra
Everything gets insane the moment the room explodes with people in uniforms.
One paramedic team rushes to Berlyn and takes over her care, getting her to the ambulance quickly. At least Jude stayed with her.
Worry gnaws at my gut that she had passed out and wasn’t awake before they took her out of here. We need to get through this mess here, give our statements and get the fuck out of here. I’m not going to feel settled again until I’ve got my hands on my girl.
Can feel her heartbeat for myself. Feel her warmth. Bask in her warm gaze.
It’s not hard to pretend I can’t focus on what the officer in front of me is saying. My mind is torn in a million different directions. Worried about my girl. Worried about West.
The second team of paramedics hover over Sheriff Matthews. It’s too late for him. I’d be surprised if they even load him up. One shakes their head, checking his wound where blood has slowed to a trickle. The pool under him so large, we all had to step further away.
The sharp tang of copper fills the room. We’ll never be able to come back in this room without the overwhelming scent drowning us.
One of the paramedics shakes his head in agreement. “There’s no bringing him back,” he says and one of the cops nods his head.
“Someone call Rogers.”
An older man, thin with gray hair and wiry glasses and a blue jacket walks into the room, holding a large box he rests on the floor. Holding his hand up he sighs. “I’m here. I’m here,” he mutters, moving over to look at Matthews.
He nods solemnly. “No coming back from that,” he agrees.
Round and round we go with the cops, answering their questions until two familiar faces walk into the room. They walk straight to me and I take my glasses off, fidgeting with them as they talk to the cop who was asking me questions.
“How’s Ms. Matthews?” one of them asks, turning their attention to me.
I shrug, clearing my throat. “Um, I don’t know.
” The strain in my voice isn’t faked about this topic.
The one thing I don’t have to put an act on about.
“They took her to the hospital,” I explain.
“She passed out. I think because of the blood, but I don’t know.
” I wring my hands in front of myself, trying to stop the trembling.
“I don’t know if she hit her head. She was bleeding. ”
His hand lands on my shoulder in what I think is supposed to be a comforting gesture, but really only makes me want to break his hand.
“Do you know what happened?” he prompts and I look over my shoulder to find his partner talking to West.
“He does best with yes, no questions,” I tell him. “He doesn’t talk.”
He eyes me carefully before calling his partner over and explaining what I said. There’s sympathy in their expressions now, no longer holding any suspicion as they watch our trembling hands and blood soaked clothes. West carefully keeps his knuckles hidden, though the swelling isn’t obvious. Yet.
The cop turns his attention back to me and repeats his question.
“Not fully,” I explain. “Berlyn seemed scared of her father,” I admit carefully. “When he showed up she asked to stay with us.”
He writes something down in his notebook and guilt creeps into his expression. “Were you aware she had a tense relationship with her father before this?”
I shake my head. “He seemed like a hard ass,” I say. “She didn’t have a lot of freedom,” I continue, acting like I’m having to think about it. “Some people used to talk about it being kind of weird. But she never said anything.”
“Has she seen him recently?”
I shake my head again. “Not that I know of. She doesn’t even talk to him very much.” I pause, tilting my head to the side. “Well actually, maybe a month ago, I think they had a fight.”
He arches a brow, pen poised over the paper.
“She didn’t say too much about it, but she was upset. I think she told him she wasn’t going to come home for the holidays. We were going to go on a trip over the break.”
He hums to himself before prodding further if I could remember when exactly that happened. Already prepared, I time it to match up with about two weeks before Berlyn made her initial report.
We finish laying the groundwork for them to put all the pieces we left for them together. Describing our interference as only West pulling the Sheriff off of Berlyn. I don’t love that we’re putting the murder on her, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.
“Can we go to the hospital?” I ask, looking around for West and Cole who are already standing together, waiting for me.
The cop doesn’t answer me right away as the man named Rogers comes over, nodding his head to move away from me. They speak in hushed tones, but not enough to cover what they’re saying. Initial assessment looks like a clear case of self-defense.
No reason to hold us any longer.
The cop returns his attention to me, telling me we’re free to go but promising to see us again soon because he’s going to need Berlyn’s statement. Everything about him now screams disinterested. Hopefully that translates to wrapping this up quickly.
Cole comes with us in my car to the hospital and West makes him sit in the backseat. I rest my hand on his thigh as we drive there. Both of us needing the comfort.
“Summer,” he murmurs, halfway there and it takes a second to understand what he’s saying but he’s right. Berlyn is going to need her best friend.
“Call her,” I instruct and he dials her number before handing the phone to Cole.
He takes the phone without thought before looking down at it as if it’s a snake about to bite him.
“Hello?” Summer’s faint voice sounds through the speaker. West gestures for Cole to get on with it.
“Hello?” Cole echoes, turning the phone on speaker.
“Who is this?” she asks, her confusion clear.
“Cole,” he answers and I turn around to stare at him dumb-founded. “Right, this is Weston’s uncle,” he clarifies.
“Oh,” her voice brightens. “The hot one?”
“What?” he stammers, glaring at West who only shrugs. He’s not going to give us any words until he has Berlyn in his arms. We’re lucky we got the one from him and he hasn’t completely shut down.
“So why is Weston’s hot uncle calling me?” she asks, a note of fear in her bemused front.
Cole swallows thickly, glaring at me. “Just give me the phone,” I demand, shaking my head. They’re both awful at this.
“It’s Ezra. Can you meet us at Adventist? Berlyn’s been admitted after her father attacked her. She’s going to need you.”
Silence echoes across the line for several beats. “Is he dead?” she finally asks.
“Yes,” I answer as West and Cole both nod their approval.
“Does she know?” she continues and I hesitate.
“No,” I answer. Or at least I’m pretty sure she doesn’t yet. “She passed out when she saw all the blood.”
Summer doesn’t say anything for another beat. “On my way,” she clips, before hanging up.
“Will you stop?” Berlyn snaps, slapping West’s hand away from her before shooing away Summer when she tries to replace him. Her desperate eyes meet mine, begging for help.
I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I smile at her. She’s pretty much moved into the library, curling up on the couch under a mountain of fuzzy blankets and getting lost in a new book. Practically a new one every day.
We’ve barely been able to keep up with her, much to her amusement.
“They’re taking care of you,” I say, defending West and Summer.
Jude bumps past me, hitting my hip with his as he carries in a tray. “I brought you lunch. Soup and half a sandwich.”
Berlyn groans, throwing her head back towards the pillows and sighing when West catches her head. “They were all superficial wounds,” she reminds us. “No concussion. Remember?”
Jude places the tray on the side table near her and all three of them begin to fuss over her as she attempts to sit up.
“You broke a rib,” Summer snaps, holding one of her arms while Jude holds the other, helping ease her up into a sitting position.
Berlyn takes a deep breath. “It’s been two weeks,” she says calmly. Even I can see it’s become overkill, but she doesn’t understand what it was like for us. Seeing her take the beating her father gave her while we couldn’t get to her.
Going to the hospital and seeing how small and fragile she looked hooked up to machines and looking gray and disoriented. That day will be seared into my memory for the rest of my life. None of us will ever forgive ourselves for not being as vigilant as we should have been.
“I’m barely even sore anymore,” she tries again and we all know she’s lying now. That rib is going to cause her pain for a while yet.
“Don’t lie,” West scolds and she sighs again.
Okay, okay. We could probably tone it down. At least a little bit for her sake. She’s been such a good girl, letting us hover over her and take care of her every need. It was only a matter of time before she got fed up with us.
“Okay guys,” I cave. “Ease up a bit.” Three heads snap in my direction, betrayal and irritation thrown at me, but the only gaze that really matters is those gorgeous hazel eyes lighting up with relief and delight. “She needs some space.”
I push off of the door frame, joining them near the couch and looking at the same meal Jude has made for Berlyn every day for lunch since we got home. “Want to go out to lunch?”
Berlyn nearly throws herself out of her seat at the offer.
She hasn’t left the house since we got home from the hospital.
Not even to go check on her place or to go to the station.
The cops have been here several times to finalize everything, but with the help of The Bleeding Roses, everything came together exactly as we needed it to.
The case was wrapped up quickly and put out of our minds.
There were plenty of lingering details we had to take care of.
Her father’s estate, her inheritance from her mother, his will.
They were all things I was able to take point on, fixing everything for her so she didn’t have to worry. Or leave the house.
But even I can admit, it’s probably time. There are no more lingering threats. Nothing left to keep her locked up for.
Protests sound from the others but I silence them with a glare as Berlyn’s excitement dims into disappointment. “We’ll stay together,” I promise. “She’s safe. We can’t hold her hostage forever.”
Summer grumbles her disagreement. She’s far more petulant than I thought she would be.
I hold my hand out to Berlyn. “Come on, Little Rabbit.”
She takes it eagerly and it’s this moment, when her face lights up as we all surround her that I realize we actually succeeded.
So many years of preparation, of watching, of loving her from afar. Wondering if we were ever going to be enough for her. And now here we are.
Exactly what she needs.
Taking care of her every need.
Her lighting up and leaning on us.
Berlyn actually fell for us.