Dreamers (The Dreamers Series) (28 page)

“Your mother implicated that she was holding Dominick somewhere and she would hurt him if he talked? She used Nick to keep Nathan in check.”

“Yes.”

This is all so much to understand. All this time I have been fearful that Nick’s father was looking to hurt me, and now I find out he was just another victim in Peyton’s sick little game. She knew he loved his son and used that against him after he had already served over twenty years in prison for her crime. The real question is the one I’ve been dreading most—what became of Dominick.

“What did she do once she had Nick in her grip?” I wince.

“She mainly used hypnotherapy. She was trying to turn him away from his family. His mother became suspicious that something strange was going on. Dominick was acting different—distant and unstable. She began to doubt my mother’s motives. When Nick confronted her, she waited until his guard was down and attacked him from behind.”

“What did she do?” I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

“He was at the window, looking out, something he would regularly do—just sit and stare. She was inching her way closer to him; she had prepared an injection of some type of heavy sedative. He began turning back towards her, and she stabbed it into his neck. He struggled with her and in the process fell from the open window—the window in your room,” she speaks gently.

The thought that it’s very possible he didn’t feel a thing is comforting, somehow. I have wondered for so long if he felt pain, or was tortured. In this horrible situation, this is one piece of news I’m somewhat thankful for. Even still, tears pool into my eyes. He never even saw it coming. He was trying to get help, and she took advantage of him for her own protection. What did she think she could do, kidnap him forever? Did she intend to brainwash him into staying with her forever?

“Heather, how did you get all this information so fast?” I quickly ask, pulling myself from the image of Nick falling from the window.

“She would only do the confession if I were on the phone with her. She didn’t want to implicate me in any of this so she was acting like I didn’t know anything—which, most of it I actually didn’t. I will confess to my superior’s once everything else is hammered out. It’s not right to let her fall alone when I am just as guilty.”

“Just as guilty, my ass! You were manipulated! What if they charge you as an accessory to his murder? Or concealing evidence? You’ll go to jail. Don’t say anything. Dominick wouldn’t want that, and I don’t either. You were a victim in this, too.” Fear laces my voice.

“Syd, there’s more. It’s the reason Cayden and Mia had to be here.”

“Heather, I don’t think I can tolerate any more right now about Nick. I know why they’re here, let’s just leave it at that. And I’m glad it was them. I couldn’t have done it, so thank you.”

“I’m confused, Syd. What are you talking about?”

“Dominick disappeared without even saying goodbye. It was sudden and strangely coincided with Cayden and Mia’s visit. You found his body, didn’t you? And you needed witnesses to identify him. I guess that’s all it took for him to cross over. She buried him here, didn’t she? He’s been here this whole time.”

“Yes, he has been here since the day it happened.”

“How did you find him? Did she tell you where she buried him?” I wince at the word
buried
.

“I already knew where he was—even before the confession,” she admits.

The revelation hits me like a brick to the face. My heart stops briefly as I swallow the words she just said. My teeth instinctively grit as I easily realize where her guilt was stemming from. She knew.

“How long have you known his body was here? And you better tell me the truth,” I spit.

“The entire time.” Her head sags. “But Sydney, you don’t understand why…”

I fall to the floor, pulling into a fetal position. A harsh pain hits, squeezing the muscles of my stomach into a fierce ball of fire. I begin to scream, holding my straining abdomen in my hands.

“Syd, what’s happening?” She struggles to pull me out of the ball I’ve fallen into on the floor.

Aside from the pain wrenching my body, I am angry—so angry it makes the pain seem dull in comparison. As many times as I’ve felt betrayed in this situation, this tops every lie and every inconsistency she has thrown on me. How could she hide something like that? Sure, I had it on good authority that Peyton had his remains stashed somewhere, but never in my wildest imagination did I think Heather would have concealed it, and never did I expect he was actually here—in this building, so close to me the entire time.

“Stop touching me!” I scream, as even her light touch intensifies the pain in my stomach.

“Sydney, please. Something is wrong; we need to get Mia. We can talk about this later.”

The tension in my lower stomach releases, leaving me panting for air. I’ve never felt such horrendous pain in my life—physically, that is. If she thinks she is getting away with finishing this conversation because I had a cramp, she is horribly mistaken. Whatever that terrible pain was, it’s gone now—hopefully never to return. I return to the conversation, anxious to finish this once and for all.

“How could you have protected a murderer? How could you do something so terrible? This isn’t you, Heather. You aren’t this horrible person. What did she do to you?” I accuse.

“I wasn’t protecting her or myself. I was protecting Dominick,” she shouts back, with a defensive tone that further enrages me.

“Don’t you dare even say his name, Heather! The only help you could have provided him with was truth, deliverance—vengeance. Yet you sat back and did nothing. My poor Nick, my poor sweet Nick had nobody fighting for him—nobody! His mother handed him over to Peyton; he had no friends, no confidants, and his own brother thought he ran off. He was alone and scared and never stood a chance against her. He was damaged and she used his handicap for her twisted little pathetic game. You could have been the one to save him; you could have fought for his freedom from that hell he lived in for two fucking years! You could have spared me from this pain! I will never be complete again, never! Because of your mother I will be damaged forever!” I yell as hard as my lungs will allow as she sits there and takes it without blinking.

Cayden walks in right into the middle of the fire, having heard me yelling from the lower level.

“Sydney, honey, you have to relax. Take a few breaths,” he calmly instructs.

“No, I won’t! She knew, Cayden! She knew his body was here the whole fucking time and did nothing!”

He looks knowingly at Heather, ignoring my statement and speaking to her instead.

“Stable,” he says quickly. “Mia, take Sydney in her room and tell her the truth. She needs to calm down.”

The awful cramp is back and this time it’s worse. It stretches my entire stomach muscle tightly, like a charley horse in the center of my abdomen. I bite blood from my lip, clamping it between my teeth in an attempt to conceal the pain. Now is not the time for Mia’s lecturing. She pulls me into the doorway of my room and begins wiping the sweat from my forehead. One look and she knows. She places her hand on my stomach, feeling the rock beneath my skin.

“Sydney, how long ago did these contractions start? Are they painful or just tight?” She looks panic stricken as she leans out the door for back up. “Cayden, get in here.”

“I’ve just lost Nick, so everything hurts—every fucking thing hurts,” I answer with tears.

“What’s wrong, Mia?” Cayden rushes in breathlessly.

“She’s contracting.”

“I’m fine. It’s gone now. I’ve only had two; stop flipping out on me.”

“Just two, are you sure?” she questions accusingly.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now what do you want to talk about? I’m not really in the mood to talk about Nick right now, so if it’s about him I would like to wait until tomorrow. I’ve heard enough for today. And these pains are taking every bit of energy I have left. I want to go lay down—upstairs! Not here,” I specify.

“I want to check your cervix. Lay down on the bed,” Mia orders.

“No! Listen to me, I ate a lot of spicy food last night… it’s indigestion. For the last time, I’m fine. I want to go upstairs now. I don’t want to talk about Nick anymore tonight.”

“Are you sure? I really think you should hear this,” Mia insists.

“What? Make it fast, and spare me anything that will further upset me. Heather is in my crosshairs right now, and I would like to get back to it so I can kill her and move on with my life.”

“You’re not killing anyone. You are going to listen to me, right now. You, Cayden, and I are going back in that room, we are going to get Heather, and then we are going to walk downstairs to Peyton’s apartment. I know you’re upset right now, but you have to trust me. I think you need to see him.”

“I don’t want to see it, Mia! Don’t you think I’ve had enough heartbreak for one day? Have you lost your mind? You’re as fucking insane as the rest of them. I don’t want to see Nick. I will remember him as he was to me—beautiful and vibrant, not two-years decomposed. Get out of my room, now!”

“Sydney, you don’t understand. He’s alive.” She twists my chin towards her face, demanding eye contact.

My head spins slightly as I wait for the moment where she will correct herself for using the wrong words because I know she didn’t just say what I thought she did. Cayden sees my confusion and confirms with a nod that I heard right. He’s—alive.

“Is this some kind of a sick joke or something? What are you saying?” I ask, thoroughly confused.

“If you sit down for a minute, we will explain,” Heather says as she walks in, sitting on the edge of my bed. “I was getting to the last part in the story and I tried to tell you, but you cut me off. Dominick has been here for two years—alive. He survived the fall from the window. After the accident my mom panicked, knowing she would face serious criminal charges for her actions. She also knew if she let him die she would have no bargaining chip against Nathan Manning. So she nursed Nick back to stable condition and placed him in a medically induced coma and kept him locked downstairs in her apartment this whole time. I called Cayden and Mia here to try to safely bring him out of the coma since they’re in the medical field. I didn’t tell you right away because we didn’t want to chance you losing him twice in one day if it didn’t work and he died right there on the spot. We weren’t sure if he would make it through; it’s been so long. We didn’t even know if he would be able to speak or have brain function or any of that. Until now, I didn’t even consider calling the paramedics here because I honestly believed he was being hidden from his father—and his life was at risk until Nathan Manning was jailed again. I was trying to protect him. He and I agreed that I would tell you he was alive, but only after he was awake, not before.”

“He knew? Nick knew he was alive?” I ask, astonished.

“He found out earlier when he read my mind. There was no turning back at that point. He knew the truth, and we worked out the details after he sent you away to wake up. He didn’t want to get your hopes up if he didn’t make it through being pulled out of the coma. He awoke so fast that we weren’t expecting it. That’s why he didn’t say goodbye—he woke up. I’m sorry for not telling you right away, but he asked me to wait.” Her caramel eyes beg forgiveness.

“Heather, don’t apologize. Don’t apologize!” I grab her in my arms, still wondering if I’m dreaming. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m so sorry I talked to you that way.”

“Baby, I forgive you. You’ve had one hell of a day.” She kisses my cheek sweetly, and then turns to Cayden. “How is he, Cay?”

“You’ll be very happy to hear that not only is he awake, but he is fine—perfect, in fact. The first thing he asked for was you, Sydney.” Cayden’s eyes dampen with liquid emotion. “He’s really okay. He even has function in all limbs and full memory.”

Heather’s eyebrows lift in disbelief as she hears of Nick’s condition. A relieved sigh whispers through her lips, and her shoulders relax at the knowledge that no permanent harm came to him through this entire mess.

“He sure does. It’s a miracle,” Mia adds.

The reasonable part of myself tempts me to believe this is just some wishful daydream presenting itself during a time of denial. Dream or reality, I can’t stop myself from lunging from the bed, heading out the front door, one step closer to him. Even if I’m dreaming, there is the chance that I might actually be able to see his face, somehow. Even if it’s merely my imagination creating him, it’s infinitely more appealing than not at all. The elevator isn’t an option—takes too long. If my one and only shot of seeing Nick is in some sort of sorrow-created mirage, I don’t want it to disappear before I can reach it. I have to get to him now.

Reality hits as flashes of memory replay in my mind. The strange sounds coming from that room in Peyton’s apartment that night—the alarms loudly beeping—were hospital monitors! As much as I recognized the noise, I could never place it until now. This is for real.

I race to the top stair, anxious to get to him as soon as my feet will allow. Peyton’s doorway faces the bottom of the staircase; it’s open. He stands in the opening, leant unstably against the frame for support. There are no words to describe his beautiful face in person. He’s here—awake—alive.

“Good morning, Sydney.” His velvety voice caresses my ears, pulling me closer to him, much like the first night we met.

I’m no more than twenty stairs from having him in my arms—keeping him there forever. We are free. We are—alive.

***

It’s strange how different it looks from this side of the world. Everything really is black. I suppose I should be whining right now about how I should or could have done things differently. True, if I hadn’t been so eager to get to my husband, I might not have missed that second step. I’ll admit, that contraction came from nowhere, knocking the wind from me—throwing me completely off balance. Had I been more careful, perhaps I wouldn’t have fallen down the other eighteen concrete stairs to the ground floor. I saw when I landed; I can’t say that I actually felt it. Strangely, I feel nothing. I assume I lost consciousness shortly after slamming into the cold hard slab. All I recall after landing is Nick’s face in agony. He held my head in his hands while I laid limply in his lap. He was screaming my name…crying…