Living on the Edge (8 page)

Madison paled. “It's my fault.”

“I couldn't agree more.”

She started to speak, then turned and ran.

M
adison leaned against the tub and tried to catch her breath. Her stomach still rebelled, but she thought she was done vomiting. A shudder shot through her, making her curl into a ball. Every part of her ached—her heart most of all.

A man was dead because of her. She'd never thought she would ever have to think that, had never wanted to. The horror filled her until it was impossible to have any other thought. She tried to tell herself that it had been Christopher and his men, not her, but she had been the reason Kelly had been at that house in the first place.

She didn't know what to do, what to think. How could she atone for this? There were no words, no actions. A family had been destroyed forever because of her.

She pushed herself up so she could sit on the edge of
the tub. After covering her face with her hands, she waited for the tears, but there weren't any. It was as if her body felt completely numb, yet filled with too much pain to contain.

Slowly, awkwardly, she stood, then stumbled to the sink. After washing her face, she reached for the toothbrush and used it. It was only when she grabbed the hand towel that she saw Tanner reflected in the mirror. He stood just outside the bathroom. Waiting.

“Ready?” he asked calmly.

“What?”

“Are you ready to start the interrogation?”

She wasn't sure what frightened her more—the word
interrogation
or the coldness she saw in his eyes.

“I'm not going through with that now,” she told him.

“You've already agreed. Backing out isn't an option.”

Before she could protest, he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the bedroom. She was too stunned to fight him, or maybe deep down she thought she deserved whatever he wanted to do. Maybe if she went along with it, she would be able to breathe again and not feel so horrible about what had happened to Kelly.

He led her to the control room. She crossed the threshold, then balked when she saw the table beside the chair and the vials and needles on the table.

“No!” She tried to twist free.

Tanner only tightened his grip on her. His fingers dug into her skin and made her wince. He guided her to the chair, then released her so suddenly that she stumbled into the seat. Seconds later her forearm was strapped to the arm of the chair.

This wasn't happening, she told herself. He couldn't be doing this.

“I trusted you,” she told him.

His dark eyes didn't even flicker in response. “Big mistake.” He picked up a vial and a needle.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She tried to pull free of the chair but couldn't. Somehow this had become about more than the letters. They were involved in a battle of wills and she knew she couldn't let him win.

Unfortunately she didn't seem to have any choice.

He dabbed her arm with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol. She inhaled the sharp scent and gave a strangled laugh.

“Oh, right. You're going to pump me full of chemicals that will screw with my mind, but God forbid I should get an infection.”

The needle pierced her skin. She felt the momentary prick of pain, then nothing. No heat, no burning. Nothing.

“How long?” she asked.

“About twenty minutes.”

Too much time to sit there wondering what it was going to feel like, she thought.

Tanner stepped back. She stared at the clock and started counting the seconds.

At first she didn't notice any change. Then gradually her body began to relax. She had the sense of getting lighter and lighter until she felt as if she could float away. In a way it was like being drunk, but with more intensity. Her body wasn't part of her anymore. He released her arm, but she couldn't move it.

Then he was there, in her face. He'd pulled up a chair so he was right in front of her.

Angry, she thought hazily. He was so very angry with her.

 

Tanner waited until Madison's eyes had fully dilated before beginning the questioning.

“Tell me your full name,” he said.

“Madison Taylor Adams Hilliard. Taylor for my mother.” She shook her head a little. “What was he thinking? He had to have known.”

“What was who thinking?”

“My father. By the time I was born, he had to have known.” She reached her fingers toward him but couldn't move her arm. “You're furious. I can see it shimmering around you. All sharp angles and knives. I'm sorry.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I'm so sorry.”

Tanner swore under his breath and looked at the needle on the table. He'd given her more than he'd planned. Or maybe not. Maybe after hearing about Kelly's death he'd wanted to put her at risk. And so he had. With her slight build, she wouldn't have much body mass to absorb the chemicals. She would get the full impact right away.

“Tell me about Christopher,” he said, making his voice gentle. “You met at a party.”

She swayed in her seat. “My father brought him. He was nice. Funny. He complimented me on the caterers. Most people compliment the hostess on the meal, but I never cooked. I liked that he got the irony of it all. He took time with me. He made me feel…strong.”

An odd trait to cause someone to get married, he thought.

“Was he ever angry? Did he have a temper?”

She flinched. “Yes. Not at first. Not until after we were married. He didn't like how I spoke to the bartender on our honeymoon. He thought I was being too friendly. It wasn't about sex—she was a woman. But he didn't want me fraternizing with the staff. He said it didn't look right.”

“What happened?”

“He yelled.” Her blue eyes darkened with pain. “He didn't hit me. In a way, that was worse. He told me I was useless. That I couldn't do anything right. He told me he was sorry he'd married me, but he would stick it out because it was the right thing to do. I didn't feel strong anymore.”

Tanner felt his anger begin to fade. “Did you love him?”

“No,” she whispered, as if afraid Christopher would hear her and punish her. “At first I thought I did, but not for long. He frightened me. I tried not to let him know, but I think he guessed. Then I decided to ignore him and live my own life.”

“When you got involved with the children?”

A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “Yes. With them.”

“Are you glad you're divorced?”

Her expression turned fierce. “Yes. I'm sorry I ever married him. I'm sorry I bought into his lies. I don't even hate him. Hate would mean energy and caring, and I refuse to waste either on him. I simply want him out of my life.”

“Did you ever write Christopher letters begging him to take you back?”

“No.”

She spoke without hesitation, but he already knew the truth. Maybe he always had. His reaction to those letters had been visceral—as if someone he cared about had betrayed him. The unexpected emotion had caused him to react. Not exactly a moment to be proud of.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

She sighed. “Don't be. You saved me. He's going to kill me, you know. Unless we can stop him. I think it's been his plan for a long time. He never forgave me for that family.”

“What family?”

“The one I brought home.” She shook her head and smiled. “Middlewood. I remember thinking it sounded so British, but they were from Mississippi. Cajun, mostly, but someone somewhere had picked up the last name. Little Jenny had been born with several bones missing in her face. I arranged the surgery, the transportation, all of it. But then there was a problem with the hotel and it was a holiday weekend and they had nowhere to go.”

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Took them home with me. Christopher was
not
happy. He flew into a rage and screamed so long and so hard, I packed everyone up and drove east until I finally found us a hotel room in San Bernardino. I thought he was going to kill one of us.”

She stared at him. “I knew then it was over. That the marriage was dead and if I didn't leave, I would be dead,
too. Back then I didn't think he would really kill me physically, but I knew he would make me so weak that I would start to disappear. I didn't write those letters.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted to live my life. Without him. With my kids.” The smile returned. “They're so great. Tough and sweet and determined. They don't care about the surgeries or the recoveries. They never complain about the pain. They just want to be normal. I could do that. Oh, not me personally. Doctors perform the real miracles. But I could help. I could pull it all together. And the more I worked with those kids, the stronger I got.”

Her words shamed him. She was everything she claimed, and he'd been too caught up in his own pain to notice. He'd abused his position in her life to bully her. In his own way, he was no better than Hilliard.

“Why do you talk about being strong and weak?” he asked.

“Because I have to stay strong. I have to make life better. I never wanted to be useless or frail or crazy.”

“You're not crazy.”

Her eyes had dilated so much, they were black instead of blue. She blinked. “It's there, you know. The fear of it. Lurking. Breathing like a great beast. It calls to me, but I turn my back on the sounds. I ignore the whispers.”

“What whispers?”

“The ones that say I'm like my mother. That I'm crazy, too.”

He knew he shouldn't ask. That it wasn't his damn business. But he wanted to know.

“Your mother's been gone for a long time. What does she have to do with anything?”

“She was weak,” Madison whispered. “Crazy. She would go away for long periods of time. They always told me she was resting. When I was little I used to wonder why my mother was always so tired, but as I got older I realized they were just keeping the truth from me. She was locked away in a mental institution.”

“You don't have to tell me this,” Tanner said, sorry he'd asked. Not because he didn't want to know, but because it was wrong to be listening.

“She was so beautiful,” Madison continued as if she hadn't heard him. “So beautiful. Everyone said she was. They said I looked like her, but I didn't. Not even close. When she was home and feeling better, she would play with me and dress me and do my hair. But when she was sick…”

Madison curled her fingers into her palm. “I learned to stay away from her then. She was so quiet, so still, that she scared me. It was as if she were trying to disappear. And then she would go away.” She stared at her lap. “In the end, she was the happiest I'd ever seen her. That's what made it so horrible. She was happy. We went to a movie together. We'd never done that. The doctors were hopeful, my father talked about us taking a vacation. Then I came home from school one afternoon and there was blood everywhere. They tried to keep me from seeing it, but I saw it anyway. She was gone. I always thought that was why she'd been so happy. She'd finally decided what she should do.”

“Madison, stop.”

She looked at him. “Christopher used to say I was like her. That I was weak and eventually I would take my own life. I said that wasn't true, but sometimes I wondered if it was. Sometimes I was afraid of what I would become.”

He stood and pulled her to her feet. She had trouble maintaining her balance, so he drew her close and wrapped his arms around her.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “Sorry for doing this to you. I should have believed you.”

“You were angry,” she said. “You're not so angry now.”

He bent over and scooped her up in his arms. She relaxed into his embrace, as trusting as a child.

She didn't say anything on the short journey back to her room. He placed her on the bed and smoothed her hair out of her face.

“You should sleep now,” he told her. “Try to rest. In a couple of hours, the drug will have worn off and you'll feel better.”

Before he could move away, she grabbed his hand to hold him in place.

“I wish it had been me,” she told him. “Instead of your friend. I wish it had been me.”

Still in the grip of the strong drug he'd given her, he knew she spoke the truth. He would have known it anyway.

“You don't have to wish that,” he said.

“I know, but I do.”

She released his hand and closed her eyes. He moved to the doorway, where he watched her for several minutes. He might have rescued her and kept her safe from
her ex-husband, but he hadn't earned the right to do what he'd done to her. The kicker was, all the regrets in the world didn't give him a way to take it back.