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Authors: Rachel Trautmiller

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BOOK: Aftermath
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She raised a shaky hand. Rubbed the tips of her fingers across her clammy forehead.

Right now, the person she needed even more than her infallible husband was herself. Jeff may have thrown his truck into a tree on purpose, but she was no better. The deserter stamp was squarely on her own forehead. And she’d done nothing to remove it.

Only tried to mark everyone else with the same, inkless brand, so she wouldn’t have to analyze her actions.

Her brother’s gaze found her. Disappointment, and a hint of something else, pinned her to the spot. As if he knew every dark, ugly thought she had.

Hot lava gathered in her stomach and surged upward. When disappearing sounded like the best option out of this nightmare disguised as a second chance, she moved toward the bed. One unsteady step at a time.

She couldn’t leave Ariana. Not now.

The heavy smell of antiseptic and bleach burned her nostrils. Brought back a heavy dose of memories she had difficulty sorting through.

A strong hand, sure tune and incoherent words whispered into her brain. She couldn’t make them go away. They resurfaced. Every. Single. Day. The decibels much louder than everyday life.

A sniffle—her daughter’s—snapped her attention from the tiled floor, at her feet. Twisted at the remains of her heart.

“So, he’s in an induced coma?” Ariana’s voice warbled. Her eyes were red and puffy. “How does that help?”

“It gives the brain and other internal organs a chance to heal without the body performing radical triage.” Again, the voice bounced around as her own.

Shock covered Baker Jackson’s face. She could feel its weight all the way to her toes. Questions filled Ariana’s. Had she been so absent the sound of an educated reply knocked their socks off?

Okay, no one needed to answer the question for her.

“So, it will help him get better?” Worry clouded her baby’s beautiful eyes, a mix of blue-green passed down for generations. Or forever, if her father told the story. According to him, Adam or Eve had the gene and every Robinson family member since. Not quite blue or green. Not hazel.

Lilly cleared her throat. “That’s always the hope.”

Ariana scanned the man in the bed. Lilly found herself doing the same. And following the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Trailing over muscles resting beneath tanned skin to wounds that would heal. And a brain that might not.

“Will he remember anything?” Ariana licked her lips and turned back toward her. “Mom, do
you
remember anything?”

A collective gasp had gone through the room, so audible the gentleman in the bed should have stirred. In her ears, her heart beat too loudly. Her tongue had grown a size and was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Her brother’s gaze hadn’t left her. Amanda even turned in her direction.

So many answers. So much confusion. A haze of voices. A whistled tune she couldn’t place. What were they waiting for?

Her. They were waiting for her.

“No, honey. I don’t.” Not if she could help it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

IF AMANDA DIDN’T get out of this hospital in the next five minutes, she might lose it. Scream in Lilly’s face. Use the same ugly words the other woman had. Trash the items around her to let out some of her frustration. And have a good cry to release the panic still swimming in her bloodstream.

And beyond making her look like a lunatic, it wouldn’t do any good. They were a mess of broken glass someone was trying to put together like a puzzle without a picture. The ambition was present, but the pieces too scattered. Missing. Lost forever.

Jamming the same parts together over and over wasn’t the answer. A quick scan of the room told her Lilly hadn’t moved from the spot she stood near the end of Jonas’ bed. The other woman’s gaze hadn’t left the man in the bed, her eyes almost unfocused. Lips rolled inward and pinched tight.

She’d been where Jonas was. Lain there and missed out on life. So, the direct anger wasn’t a surprise. If the positions were reversed, would Amanda have reacted any differently to the loss?

Robinson had an arm around his niece. Whispered something to her. The teen wiped a tear from her cheek. Nodded. And still, Lilly didn’t move. Didn’t offer comfort.

Amanda sucked in a stuttered breath. She couldn’t do this. Not today. Couldn’t play the ultimate mind-game of forgiveness and lending the other cheek.

She pushed the same breath of air through her mouth and walked from the room. Forced herself to forget the hateful words carved into Jonas’ chest. The tubes snaking from his body. The guard standing in front of his door. How the FBI shut down one bay of the ICU at Mercy hospital. Nurses and doctors sworn to secrecy.

Despite that, word would spread. And soon their perps would know he’d survived. How long before they came after him? How long before they figured out who Ariana was and where she lived? Would they catch her on her next walk home from school? Carve into her flesh and leave her to die?

Her stomach gave a heavy roll. If she’d eaten anything in the last few hours, it might have made a comeback on the pristine hospital flooring.

She reached the elevator banks and pushed the call button. Rolled her neck. A few minutes alone ought to help her get her head on straight. Figure out if Jonas’ attack was the byproduct of his current case or something else.

Forget the fact that it could be Robinson lying in that bed. So still. Fighting for life.

She clamped her eyes shut.

A ding signaled the elevator’s arrival. The doors opened, revealing a pregnant woman and Eric Dunham. They held hands. Eric gripped a soda in his free one.

Kelsey and Eric. Both part of the District Attorney’s office. The pair had gotten together sometime after Amanda had broken up with the lawyer, because of a deteriorating and ill-fitting relationship.

And Robinson. Always Robinson.

It seemed like lifetimes ago—a decision she still didn’t regret. It didn’t mean she needed another reminder of the past. She didn’t move. Couldn’t opt for the stairs without being rude, so she stepped into the elevator. Took a breath and tried to harness her inner tough girl. “Hey, guys. I guess congratulations are in order?”

Kelsey beamed as the doors closed, taking away any escape. “Thank you. We just took a tour of the maternity ward.” She patted her protruding stomach. “Only four weeks left.”

An image of Eric and Robinson, bound together by thick rope, popped into her mind. They were on fire. Both of them, Eric’s face covered in flames. The agonizing noise coming from his lungs...

“Amanda?” A male hand waved in front of her face. “You okay?” Eric asked. His face was normal now. No fire. Very little scarring. Not like the puckered skin over Robinson’s ear and one patch at the back of his neck. The stubborn man had refused to see a plastic surgeon. Insisted it added charm.

As if he needed help in that area.

“Yeah. Sorry.” She hit the lobby button again. If it would speed up this trip, she’d punch the thing until it broke. “Long day.”

“Your finger is all red.” Kelsey grabbed the hand with Robinson’s ring attached. Still the same angry sight as this morning. If she wiggled it around every now and then, the numbness ebbed a little. The rest of her, however...

“What happened?” Eric asked.

Leave it to the two lawyers to notice it. “It’s just a little swollen. No lawsuit in the making.” No big deal. The end of a story no one needed to hear.

“What a relief.” Sarcasm dripped from Eric’s words. “The ambulance chaser in me wouldn’t have been able to resist putting together a solid case.”

Huh. Apparently, Kelsey was good for his humor. Good for them.

The other woman swatted his arm in an oh-stop manner, a huge smile on her face. And eyes for only him as she hugged his arm in complete adoration. If they started in on some kissy-faced goo, she’d pull the emergency brakes, climb out of the hatch and pry the doors on the level above or below open.

One more floor. Then she’d be free. She could make it. No problem. Small talk couldn’t be that hard, right?

The weather was a great topic. Or sports. The Pilots had drafted a new quarterback. What was his name?

She sighed. On a normal day, this wouldn’t be an issue.

“That happened to me when I was first pregnant.” A conspiratorially huge smile lit Kelsey’s face. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

Amanda swallowed back a groan. If she took out her gun, would one of them shoot her now?

“No, honey.” Eric was shaking his head. Panic lined his face. “Amanda can’t have children.”

Oh, forget it. She’d shoot herself. And save them all a lot of trouble.

Shock covered the other woman’s face. Then sadness and sympathy. “Oh.” Her gaze lit on Amanda, then. “Oh. I’m sorry. I...”

She could hardly explain that she believed things happened for a reason and she wasn’t the type to dwell over might have been. Not usually. Not in a circumstance where the outcome was so final.

A solid ding filled the space and the doors opened. “No worries. Hey, enjoy that baby.” She stepped out. Nearly ran into Robinson as he stood with one arm against the wall next to the elevator.

He heaved in a breath. “Took the stairs. Wasn’t sure I’d beat you.”

She tried a smile and failed. A smart comment rolled through her brain about joining gyms. She held it back, sure it would fall flat right now.

“You ran out without a goodbye.” His gaze flicked behind her. He straightened. “Hey, Eric, Kelsey. Long time, no see.”

Amanda turned. What had she expected? That things would suddenly go her way? And the super polite DA and his wife would walk off without a word?

The couple stopped in front of them, right outside the elevator. Blocking any escape out the hospital’s front doors. She could make an excuse to get back in the elevator...

Forgotten purse. Keys. Sanity.

Leaving Robinson to deal with an awkward conversation alone.

“Same to you.” Eric stuck his hands in his pockets. “Been a busy year.”

Busy didn’t cover it. Amanda bit the inside of her cheek. A few minutes alone. That’s all she’d wanted.

Forget talk of the weather. Or sports. Right now, if she had to sit through idle chit-chat, she was going to throw the biggest hissy fit ever known to man. It already bubbled near the surface.

“It has.” Robinson said. “I hate to cut this short, but we’re pressed for time. You know how it is.”

Polite, but to the point. As if he’d known. His gaze snagged hers for a second, the message pretty clear.

Trust me, I’ve got your back.

Who could argue with that?

“Right.” Eric gave a mock salute. “Gotta keep Charlotte safe.”

If only he knew.

Eric placed a hand on the small of his wife’s back. “It was nice chatting.” And then the couple moved toward the doors, passed through and disappeared from sight.

“Oh, man. You think his shirts will be so tightly pressed after that kid arrives?”

She stifled a laugh and shook her head. Faced him. “You always make everything look so easy. Hey-we-really-want-to-chat-but-maybe-next-time always works. On everybody. Doesn’t matter who it is or what’s going on. And if you need the exact opposite, you can get that, too.”

“It’s a gift.” With a hand on her arm, he steered her in the same direction Kelsey and Eric had gone. “Relax. You can wipe the crap-I’m-trapped-in-an-elevator-with-my-ex-and-his-pregnant-wife from your face.”

Oh, boy. He’d gotten that from one look? “It was more of me being unsure I could handle polite conversation right now. Get it straight.”

“Why?”

That angry-frazzled end of anxiety was fading—something being in his presence always accomplished better than a bottle of wine. It didn’t mean she wanted to talk about Lilly’s words. Not today. Probably never. “Shouldn’t you be with Ariana and Lilly?”

“They’re still upstairs with Agent Dirk. You gonna spill the beans or what? Lilly said something to you again.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

His lips pressed together as if he planned to do exactly that. It had happened before with disastrous results. After a day like today, neither of them would survive an emotionally-charged showdown. It was best to forget the whole thing.

“Those girls you were talking about. I’m gonna need to check out the other cases. Wrap my head around it. See if there’s any reason someone close to them might want them out of the picture.”

His tongue found the inside corner of his cheek. “You’re not gonna find any recent life insurance policies or anything like that.”

She shook her head. “That’d be too easy. And only make sense upon their legitimized deaths. Missing cases can go on for years.”

“Listen, I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

She stopped. Inhaled a breath full of the spicy cologne she’d come to associate with Robinson a long time ago. Tugged a strand of hair from the corner of her mouth. “When have I ever mentioned anything remotely close to that?”

BOOK: Aftermath
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