Toward the Sound of Chaos (19 page)

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Authors: Carmen Jenner

BOOK: Toward the Sound of Chaos
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Chapter
Thirty-Two

Ellie

I
wait. I pace. These are the actions I’m limited to. I’ve about worn a hole in
the floor of this damn room. I’ve already chewed my nails down to stubs and I’d
considered screaming at the top of my lungs, but I figured that would get me
locked up in the psych ward for the night so I didn’t do it.

It’s
been three hours already. I head to the nurses’ station and ask again, though I
know there’s no news. The woman shakes her head, her lovely silver bob glinting
under the lights as she moves. I take a deep breath. I should have never run
across that road. If I’d only waited five extra minutes, none of this would
have happened. I wouldn’t have seen what I had, and Spence wouldn’t have come
out after me.

“Angel?”
His voice rolls over me like rough honey, and I immediately burst into tears. I
can’t face him now.

I
feel his presence behind me. His gentle grasp on the back of my neck has me
losing it all together, and he turns me and pulls me into his arms. Nuke sniffs
at the grazes on my leg. His cold, wet nose nudges the side of my thigh and his
fur tickles.

“What
are you doing here?” My voice is muffled by Jake’s T-shirt, and I know I’m
leaving wet patches all over him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Olivia
called. Said she was on her way back from Tuscaloosa and to meet you here, that
Spencer had been in an accident. I left so damn fast I didn’t even bother to
hang up the phone. What happened? Is he alright?”

“I
don’t know. They’re still in surgery and not tellin’ me a thing,” I sob. “Mr.
Williams is dead. He shot himself in the face as I was opening his door.”

Jake’s
whole body stiffens. “What?”

“He
shot Jimmy. He sent me a letter, and I dashed across the road without thinkin’.
I told Spencer to stay put, but I should have waited.”

“Slow
down, angel, you’re not making any sense.”

“This
is all my fault, Jake.”

“Shh.
No, it isn’t.” He smooths the hair back from my forehead and kisses my head.

“You
were right. I’m a terrible mother. I got my kid run over.”

“Angel,
no,” he whispers, squeezing me tighter. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I
was afraid that I’d hurt you and Spence. I was seeing a lot of things and I
didn’t know if they were real, if I lived them in another time and place and my
head was messing with me, or if I’d taken a rifle and gunned a man down in the
middle of Fairhope. It’s no excuse for saying the things I said, or for hurtin’
you like that, but you gotta know—you’re an amazing Mamma.”

“I
don’t know if he’s going to be okay.” My voice catches on a sob and he pulls me
closer, wrapping his hand behind my head and holding it to his chest.

I
don’t know how long we stand there, but I know I don’t want to leave the warmth
of his embrace. Not yet—not until I know what’s going on with my son.

“Ellie?”
Olivia says, and I pull away from Jake in order to hug her. She must have
broken every speed limit between here and Tuscaloosa to get here so fast. “Is
there any news?”

“Nothing.
It’s all my fault, Liv.”

“Oh
honey, no. You couldn’t have seen this coming.” She leads me over to one of the
hard plastic seats and pulls me down beside her. Jake takes the seat to my
other side and together we wait.

***

I
wake with his warm shoulder beneath my cheek. I rest my head there a moment
longer, breathing in his scent. I miss him so much. Jake slips his fingers
between mine and gently squeezes. I’m sure he knows I’m awake, but he doesn’t
say anything—he just comforts me. Ironic, considering he broke my heart little
more than a week ago.

The
door from surgery opens into the waiting room, and I jump up at the sight of
the doctor whose hands I’d left my most treasured possession in hours earlier.
He’s decked out in brightly colored pediatric scrubs that have Marvel characters
all over them. I cringe, knowing Spence would have a meltdown if he were faced
with the too-loud material.

“Ms.
Mason.”

“Is
my baby okay?”

He
nods. “Spencer’s just fine. He has a compound fracture of the left tibia and
fibula. They’re not uncommon, but they’re not easy to recover from either.
We’ve placed several pins in his leg, but there’s some tissue damage and
possibly some nerve damage too, though we won’t know about that until a little
later. He’s in recovery now, but he’ll need to stay in the hospital for a few
days. He’ll also need a lot of rest when he gets home and some physiotherapy in
the future to aid in his recovery.”

I
nod, anxious to visit my son. “Can I see him?”

“Of
course,” he says, and looks to Olivia and Jake, and then at Nuke. He frowns,
displaying his annoyance at seeing a dog here in the hospital, which riles me
on Jake’s behalf.

“He’s
a therapy dog,” I say.

The
doctor raises a skeptical brow. “No other visitors allowed at this time. Just
you.”

I
nod and look back at Olivia and Jake. “Y’all go on home and get some rest.
We’ll be fine. I’ll keep you posted if anything changes.”

“Are
you sure?” Olivia says, and I reach out and squeeze her arm. “We don’t mind
stayin’.”

“No,
I want to be there when he wakes up, and I don’t know how long that will take,
but thank you for waiting with me.”

“Ms.
Mason,” the surgeon calls. “When you’re ready.”

I
turn and face him. It’s a good thing the man just fixed my son, because I have
half a mind to put him over my knee and teach him some manners.

I
don’t look at Jake as I’m leaving. I can’t deal with my feelings for him right
now, so I hurry through the doors that lead me to the most important little man
in the whole world.

After
the pain meds have kicked in and Spencer’s doctor assures me he’ll be out for
some time, I decide to head home and catch a few winks so I can be back here
when he wakes. I might have just stayed in the armchair by his side, but I’m
still wearing a shirt with Mr. Williams’s blood on it. My ruined apron got
thrown in the trash when the nurses pulled me aside and cleaned me up so they
could bandage the grazes on my legs, but they couldn’t do much about my shirt,
and Spencer don’t need to see his mamma looking like she just stepped in from
the slaughterhouse.

I
give the nurses’ station on the children’s ward my number and ask them to call
me the second he opens his eyes. I’m sure they’re not unfamiliar with autism,
but that makes no difference to someone who lives with it every day. I need to
be there when my son wakes up.

When
I leave the ward and head out into the waiting room, I’m surprised to find Jake
sitting in the same chair I left him in. Nuke is curled up at his feet. He
lifts his head when the doors close behind me, rattling the lead tied tight
around his owner’s hand. Jake’s eyes spring open and he’s instantly alert, his
torso ramrod straight as he looks me over, eyes scanning. Always scanning for
threats, these Marines. Mr. Williams did it too.

“What
are you still doing here?” I ask.

“Thought
you might need a ride.”

It’s
true. I do. I rode in the ambulance with Spence. I hadn’t even thought about
that fact when I was leaving just now, and it could be kind of hard to get a
cab at three in the morning in downtown Fairhope.

“Thank
you.”

Jake
stands. “How’s he doin’?”

“Groggy,”
I say. “He was talking about skiing and how it was a shame he wouldn’t be able
to now that he’d broken his leg and would have to wait until next winter.
Spencer’s never been skiing a day in his life.”

“Yeah,
those pain meds will hit you hard sometimes.” We start walking slowly toward
the exit, Nuke trailing in our wake. “How are you holding up?”

I
laugh, humorlessly. “I feel like someone took a whittling knife and pared me
down to the core. I’m a mess.”

“And
Williams?” he says softly, bringing us to a stop by his truck. “How are you
with that?”

“No.
I can’t.” I turn to him with tears in my eyes. “I can’t talk about that right
now.”

He
nods and opens the passenger-side door for me. Of course Nuke goes to jump up,
but Jake tells him to sit and the dog gives an unimpressed “woof”. I climb into
Jake’s truck and flinch when he grabs the seatbelt and leans over me to buckle
me in.

“I
got it,” I say, but Jake ignores me anyway, and a beat later the metallic click
of my buckle resounds inside the cab. I suck in a sharp breath, because just a
few hours ago a different metallic click meant a lot more than my seatbelt
sliding into place. It meant Williams’s life bleeding away onto his hardwood
floors.

“You
okay, angel?”

“Yeah,”
I say, though my tears clearly betray me. Jake reaches out and smooths a
calloused hand over my cheek. I feel the urge to move away from his touch so it
won’t burn me, but I don’t, because after everything that happened today it’s
nice to have someone in my corner offering me comfort when I feel like my
entire world just exploded. He removes his hand and shuts the door, and then he
walks around his side of the car and hops in. Starting up the engine, he peels
the truck out of the parking lot and onto the road.

I’m
exhausted, and the warmth of the cab lulls me to sleep, and then I’m lifted in
the air. I blink several times and snuggle into his warmth. “I can walk.”

“I
know.” His arms are tight around me and he carries me to my door and sets me on
my feet. I glance briefly at Mr. Williams’s place. Police tape cordons off the
front porch. It’s quiet now, but I imagine the entire street was buzzing with
officials and lookiloos earlier.
Damn vultures
.

I
remember the letter he sent.
Now I’m taking care of the rest.

And
he had
.
He must have confessed to killing Jimmy over the phone, because
I can’t see why else the police would have been racing toward his house.
Mr.
Williams killed Jimmy
. Mr. Williams shot himself in front of me. I can’t
even begin to process that.

Jake
asks me for the keys and judging by the way he’s looking at me, I don’t think
it’s the first time he’s said it.
“It’s unlocked.”

“Stay
here,” he says, and I don’t argue that he’s being paranoid as he and Nuke push
past me into the dark house.

“Nuke,
seek it,” Jake says, switching on the light as he enters. The dog takes off and
Jake follows close behind. I don’t. I stay put. I don’t think I could handle
any more trouble tonight.

Nuke
begins barking and I hear Jake’s quiet laughter come from another room at the
end of the small house.

“Good
boy,” he says, emerging a moment later not with a robber or squatter in tow,
but holding something tiny within his enclosed hand.

“What
is it?” I mumble, and even I can hear how exhausted I am.

“Nuke
found a lightning bug in Spencer’s room.” He unfolds his hands; a tiny brown
beetle opens his wings and flies away into the dark. I smile at Nuke and stroke
his fur. His tongue lolls out, and he closes his eyes as he tilts his head up
at me.

“Thank
you,” I say to Jake. “For everything. I don’t know what I would have done
without you tonight.”

“You
want me to stay?”

Oh
boy, was that the loaded question of the century? I should say no, but I don’t
want to. It’s downright selfish, but I need him.

As
if sensing my hesitation, he says, “On the couch, of course.”

“Would
you mind?”

“Not
ever when it comes to you, angel. Come on, you’re dead on your feet.” He takes
my hand and leads me into the house, locking the door behind us. Nuke skitters
about like he just got in on the ground floor of some super-special doggy
mission. As if he knows he shouldn’t be in here, but he’s breaking all the
rules.

Sorry,
Mr. Williams
.

I
sigh. I don’t know what this all means—Williams dying. I don’t know how long
Spence and I will have before they come to evict us, but I can’t worry about
that now. I have to come up with a way to pay for Spencer’s costly hospital
bills, because I don’t have insurance. I may have to take a second job as a
candy striper girl in the post-op ward.

I
don’t want to think about any of that right now, though. I just want my bed,
and though I know I shouldn’t, I want this man’s arms around me. I don’t say as
much, because it’s a line I can’t afford to cross at the moment.

“I’d
offer you Spencer’s bed, but I’m not entirely sure you’d fit,” I say
sheepishly.

“I’m
fine with the couch.”

“I’ll
grab you a pillow and a blanket. There’s towels in the linen press if you want
to take a shower?”

“I’m
fine.” He follows me down the hall. I retrieve the bedding from the cupboard
and close it, turning to face him. He’s close. Too close, and tears prick my
eyes again as a lump forms in the back of my throat. He reaches out a hand to
cup my face. “Go get some rest, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

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