Nobody's Hero (46 page)

“Thank you, Mrs. Gallagher.”

Karla made to stand up and Adam’s mother
raised her hand to stop her. “Even if he won’t meet me, I’d like
him to get to know his siblings. He has a younger brother and
sister from my second marriage.”

“If you can give me their contact info, I’d
be happy to share it.” Karla wondered that neither of her children
were with her this Thanksgiving night. Were they estranged, or just
busy with their own lives? They didn’t live nearby, according to
Grant.

“I’m sorry you missed them, but when they get
to Chicago to see me, they like to hang out with their old
friends.”

Well, she must have raised her second family
well enough that they hadn’t abandoned her. Karla waited while the
woman went to the secretary desk along the wall near the opening to
the dining room and pulled out a pad of paper and an address book.
As she wrote with a shaky, but careful hand, Karla wandered over to
the grand piano, a Yamaha, and glanced at the framed photos. The
one that most captured her eye was the oldest. The dashing young
man in his Civil War-era uniform was the spitting image of Johnny
Depp. My God, it was as if Depp had posed for the photo or worn the
uniform in a movie or something.

“That’s Johnny Montague, my
great-grandfather. Quite handsome, wasn’t he?”

“Um, yes.” Not as handsome as Karla’s
Montague, of course.

His mother grinned. “Yes, I know who he looks
like. Maybe we’re related somewhere back in history.”

Karla grinned back. Wouldn’t that be a
kick—Adam and Johnny Depp as long-lost cousins? But the
lightheartedness of the moment disappeared when his mother handed
her the piece of paper that would introduce Adam to the two newest
members of his family, only these were blood relatives.

“Would you prepare them first, Mrs.
Gallagher, so that, if Adam calls, it won’t be out of the
blue?”

“Of course. But they know they have a big
brother. They know the whole story.”

Karla looked down at the paper and saw that
Adam’s siblings were named Patrick and Megan. Fine Irish names.
Well, time to get back to her house and figure out how she was
going to share all of this with Adam.

She reached out and offered her hand. “Thank
you again for letting me visit, Mrs. Gallagher.”

The woman shook her hand, then her upper lip
began to tremble. “Please tell him I never meant to hurt him. That
I…I love him. I could never tell him that, I guess because
everything I’d ever loved, I lost. But I lost him anyway.”

Feeling sorry for the woman, Karla bent down
and brushed her lips against her cold cheek.

“I promise, I will.”

She let herself out of the apartment and
walked to the elevator then decided to just take the stairs.
Driving back to the house, she tried to formulate her thoughts
about how she planned to tell Adam. “Oh, guess what? I just met
your long-lost mother and she wants you to know she loves you.”

Oh, Adam. I hope you’ll meet her. Maybe she
can put some of your dragons to rest.

As she turned onto her tree-lined street, her
heart began hammering the blood through her veins, making her aware
of the tension in her temples. What
was
she going to tell
him? How was he going to take it? Oh, God, she hoped she’d done the
right thing digging into his past.

She parked the car and ran up the steps, then
had to grab onto the porch post to steady herself when another
dizzy spell hit her. Maybe she’d better ask mom if she had anything
for the flu, other than bed rest, which she didn’t have time
for.

Inside the house, she went straight to the
stairway, knowing Adam wouldn’t be downstairs with her parents. She
knocked on his bedroom door. No answer. She spoke softly through
the crack in the door. “Adam? Are you still up?” Silence.

“He’s gone, Karla.”

Karla’s heart pounded against her chest like
a bass drum as she looked back down the hallway to find her mother
standing at the top of the stairs.

“What?”
Gone?
Karla reached for the
doorjamb to steady herself. He’d left her? Why? Obviously because
he thought she was seeing someone else.
Oh, Adam. Why do you
have to expect the worst of people all the time?

Well, tonight she’d certainly gotten an
inkling as to why he expected people to abandon him.

“He never came back from his walk. I hope he
found some place to get inside where it’s warm or he’ll be a
Popsicle by now.”

Relief flooded Karla’s body and she sagged
against the wall. Not
gone
gone, just out.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on
between you two?”

Not really.
“Maybe later, Mom. Right
now, I just need to lie down. I think I might be coming down with
the flu.” She walked back down the hall, feeling her mother’s
scrutiny on her, but just walked into her room and closed the door.
Her stomach churned, but she wouldn’t give in to puking again.
Feeling flushed, she went to the window and pressed her face
against the cool glass.

Adam needs you.

The voice Karla now knew was Joni Montague’s
spoke as clearly as if she were standing beside her. Karla opened
her eyes and looked to her side. No one was there, of course. Then
she turned to the window and noticed that Adam’s car was gone.

Maybe he hadn’t just taken a walk. Maybe…

Panic set in and she ran to the bathroom and
opened the door to Ian’s room. When she saw his duffel bag open on
the floor by the closet, she nearly cried tears of joy. Instead,
she felt the now familiar churning in her stomach and ran to the
bathroom in time to hurl into the toilet.

* * *

Adam waited a few minutes, then hurried down
the hallway to follow her home. Standing at the end of the hallway
for the past hour, he felt like a damned fool. Thank God no one had
found him there, or they may have called the police on him.

One thing he realized was that, if he wanted
a relationship with Karla, there was no room for jealousy. He’d
seen how that could affect a relationship with his parents. His
father was always accusing his mother of having other men she was
seeing.

Not that there was much hope for him having a
relationship with Karla anyway. His coming to Chicago had been a
mistake. He might as well head back to the Paxtons, get a good
night’s sleep, and head back to Denver first thing in the
morning.

As he walked toward the stairway, he heard
voices seconds before the stairway door opened and two young people
came out, smiling. He made eye contact with the young man and felt
as if he’d been gut-punched. It was like looking into the
mirror—twenty years earlier.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the
woman beside him stopped and stood stock still, her jaw dropping
open. “Oh my God! Adam?”

How did she know his name? He turned toward
her and saw his mother’s face, the way she’d looked when he was a
little boy.

“
Wait in here, Adam. I’ll let you out when
he goes to sleep.”

“
I’ll be good. Don’t lock me in there,
Mommy!”

Sweat broke out on his upper lip as his heart
began to pound against his chest. What was going on here? Who had
Karla been visiting—and why?

The young woman looked like she wanted to run
up and hug him, but restrained herself.
Thank God.
“Momma
must have had a fit when she saw you.”

Adam’s hand rose to the nape of his neck and
he rubbed the scar. He knew what was incoming and still couldn’t
help but ask. “Momma?” What the fuck? Was she saying his mother was
in apartment 2F? Karla had been digging into his past? Had she
discovered what he’d done to his father?

Jesus fucking Christ.

The young man cocked his head and squared
himself as if to prepare to do battle. “You didn’t even see her,
did you? What the fuck’s your problem, man? She’s been waiting for
you forever. The least you can do is let her know you’re alive
before you disappear on her again.”

If these two people were his
half-siblings—and who else could they be—then obviously their
mutual mother hadn’t told them the story of that bloody night. Adam
sure as hell didn’t plan to fill them in. But what about coming
face-to-face with the woman who had told him to leave all those
years ago?

The young woman extended her hand. “I’m Megan
Gallagher. Excuse my brother. Patrick has just a little too much
testosterone.” The comment drew a glare from her brother that she
either ignored or didn’t see. “Please, come inside. Momma isn’t
getting any younger. She needs to know you’re okay.”

“But don’t go in there if you have an ax to
grind,” Patrick said. “She’s been through enough.”

Protective of his mother.
Their
mother. Good for him.

“I’ve ground all my axes already.” That may
not be completely true, but he wasn’t going to take out his
frustrations on an old woman. She had to be in her mid-seventies by
now. But was he ready to face her after all this time?

Megan hooked her arm in his and had spun him
back in the direction of their mother’s apartment before Adam even
had a notion to run again. No, the time had come to stop running.
If his mother turned him in for killing her husband, his father,
then he’d stand trial for the crime and suffer the consequences.
Maybe he’d get some leniency for not having killed anyone else
since then. Well, except in war zones.

Thank God he hadn’t admitted to Karla that he
loved her. She didn’t need to be saddled with a convict.

“God, you must work out more than Patrick
does. You’re built like a tank.” Megan took her fist and playfully
punched his bicep. She probably wasn’t much younger than Karla, but
his sister sure seemed a lot more immature.

He halted just a few yards away from the
door. If he was going to do this, he wouldn’t be dragged into it.
Megan let him go and looked up at him, expectantly. The playfulness
was gone. He thought he saw a glint of tears in her eyes.

“Please, Adam. She needs to see you, to
explain what happened to your father. It’s been eating her alive
all these years.”

What was there to explain? His flashbacks
made it pretty clear what had happened.

Patrick walked around him and inserted a key
into the lock, opening the door, then glared back at Adam.
Waiting.

“You’re home early. You’ll never guess who
visited me to…”

Momma
. Her voice was softer, happier,
than the last time he’d heard it. As if drawn by a magnet, he
walked toward the doorway.

“Momma, there’s someone else here to see
you.”

Adam reached the opening of the door, his
heartbeat thudding in his ears, then walked inside, bracing himself
for…a wheelchair? A much older version of his mother was sitting
frail and tiny in a wheelchair?

Adam remembered how Karla’s gaze had lowered
when someone had answered the door earlier. It wasn’t a child who
had answered, but his mother in a wheelchair. What had happened to
her? Stroke maybe?

“Adam? Is it really you?” Her whispered words
were spoken with such emotion, he couldn’t help but think she was
sincere. If the woman hadn’t been in the chair, she surely would
have hit the floor. Patrick and Adam both reached out at the same
time to steady her upper body. Well, Patrick also held himself
ready to deck Adam if he tried anything.
Good kid
.

Adam knelt on one knee and took the woman’s
shaking hand in his. With her free hand, she reached up and placed
it against his cheek. Cold. Her hand was like ice and he took it
between his hands, hoping to infuse some warmth into her. Tears
streamed down her cheeks.

“Yeah, it’s me…Mom.” He couldn’t really call
her Momma again. Too old. Too much time passed.

She pulled her hand free of his and held both
arms out to him. He went into her embrace and felt the backs of his
eyes burn as she wrapped her shaking arms around his shoulders.

Her voice wavered as she spoke. “I didn’t
think I’d ever get to hold you again, sweetheart.”

He put his arms around her, but was afraid
he’d crush the frail woman so he used great restraint. He felt a
brace on her back and wondered if she’d been in some kind of
accident. She laid her head against his shoulder and began to
sob.

Adam didn’t know how much time had passed
when she loosened her hold and he was able to release her and put
some space between them again.

“Your young lady friend told me you’re a
Marine, son. I’m so proud of you for reaching your goal, despite
all that happened.”

Adam wasn’t sure what to say, but nodded to
acknowledge her words. Now he needed to come clean. “I’m sorry,
Mom. About Dad.”

“What do you have to be sorry about?”

“What I did that night. I don’t remember
much, but…”

“Oh, Adam! You didn’t do anything wrong. You
never gave me any trouble at all. Always were such a good boy.”

Joni’s words came back to him.
“Adam,
listen to me. You were a good boy. And you’re a good man.”
No,
wait. That wasn’t Joni. That was Karla’s voice. What had made him
think it was Joni? His thoughts were such a jumble right now. He
wished Karla were here with him now, for some reason. Probably
because she was so much stronger than he was at dealing with
emotional stuff like this.

“Sit down. We need to talk. All of us.” She
motioned for the three of them to sit. He sat on the sofa, Megan
taking the place beside Adam, and Patrick sitting in a chair
nearby, not taking his vigilant gaze off Adam for a second.

Adam guessed his half-brother was about
twenty-six or twenty-seven. Megan probably twenty-four or
twenty-five. His mother must have remarried soon after he kil…his
father was killed.

“Patrick and Megan know the story already,
but I may need them for moral support.”