Page 85 of Whispers of My Skin

Touching Oscar as little as possible, even with my bound hands I quickly locate his phone, as well the cuff keys. It’s awkward, but I manage to release Joel from the cuffs, and as soon as he is free, he unties my hands. He hugs me tightly, kissing me repeatedly, but when he winces in pain, I remember that we urgently need to call the emergency services.

We’re sitting on the broken-down cabin porch when the police and paramedics arrive, along with Connor after Joel called him too. He immediately assures us that everything is under control following the fire in the barn, which he says the fire department suspect was arson.

“But don’t you go worrying yourselves about any of that right now,” Connor insists in his usual cool, calm collected way. “I’ll take care of everything at Redlands, while you two get yourselves off to the hospital.” And I know that he will, I already trust Connor completely, and am so thankful he was happy to follow Joel to our ranch.

It’s a relief to see Oscar being escorted into the ambulance by the police. He’s unconscious but still alive, his life hanging by a thread, and I wonder if he’ll make it. But I don’t want him to die, I want him questioned about his accomplices, I want him to stand trial for what he’s done, to face the consequences. And then I want him to rot in jail for the rest of his life. So, I hope he does make it, death would be far too easy an escape for him.

Next, they load an abusive Cassandra, handcuffed to the gurney, into another ambulance. I imagine she’ll be admitted into a psychiatric facility, stat. I do feel compassion for her unborn baby, but from what I’ve seen of Stephen, he’ll hopefully step up to the plate and be the father that innocent child deserves.

Joel is lying on a stretcher, an IV line hooked up to provide him with some pain relief. How he’s forced himself to carry on when he must have been in so much pain is incredible. He really is my true hero, always putting other people before himself.

“Finally, our nightmare is over,” Joel says, looking over at me and pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Promise me you’re not going to pull any more surprises like this,” I say jokingly, while a paramedic checks me over as I sit beside him, holding his hand.

“That’s one promise I’m more than happy to keep,” he grins, then winces thanks to his big, fat split lip. The paramedic tuts, as he’s trying to put some Steri-strips on a cut on his cheek.

“Careful now, cowboy,” I scold. “Just keep still so the guy can to do his job and take care of that handsome face of yours.”

“Stop fussing, baby. I’ve been in far worse fights than this,” Joel jokes, before changing to a more serious subject. “Have you given any thought about contacting your mother? Better she hears about Oscar from you, rather than catching it on the news.”

This is my wonderful husband, always thinking ahead, always practical.

“I suppose you’re right, but how the hell am I’m going to explain all this to her?” I worry.

“I suggest you call her, tell her to meet us at the hospital straight away, then we can fill her in there.”

“Do you think she’ll be able to cope with the enormity of it all, the repercussions?”

“For Camille’s sake, let’s hope so.”

Oh God, my poor little sister, she’s an innocent party caught up in all this. Oscar, blinded by ambition and money, never gave a thought to his own daughter. It’s never easy to learn that your father’s an evil criminal, even less so at the tender age of nine.

“Ma’am,” says the EMT. “We’ll be taking your husband in first as his injuries are potentially more serious. We’ve called for back-up, and once that ambulance arrives, they’ll bring you in too. So, you’ll see your husband at the hospital a bit later.”

“We go together. You are not separating us,” Joel immediately insists. “I’m not leaving my wife behind.”

“Don’t be so stubborn and difficult, Joel Sadger!” I protest. “You heard what the man just said. You have a head injury, you need urgent attention, so just them take you and get on with their job.”

“I’m not stopping them doing anything they need to, just as long as we stay together. That’s not negotiable,” he emphatically states, as he lays his head down on the stretcher and squeezes my hand. “So, if they want me to go quietly, we go together, in the same vehicle.”

The paramedic rolls his eyes, but I think there’s also a twinkle in his eye as he goes ahead and organizes for us to be transported together, muttering something about foolish young love birds.

Dealing with my mother goes pretty much as expected when we call her into the hospital. She’s in total denial at first, insisting it’s totally impossible for a decent man like Oscar to be guilty of the outrageous accusations made against him.

However, once she’s forced to read the police reports, and learns of the indisputable evidence they have, the truth hits her like a truck.

Then she cries. Goes through a stage of denial. Ends up being mightily pissed.

But anger is good. Anger is positive and we can work with that.

“So, what do we do now?” she asks, pacing the floor of our hospital room. “And how are we going to tell to my poor baby girl?”

“Mom, Camille is stronger than you think. For sure, it’s not going to be easy, but I’m certain the best thing is to just tell her the truth straight out. Best she hears it all from us, with no beating around the bush.”

My mother sighs, but she knows I’m right. Camille is very wise despite her young years, so she’ll get through this—we’ll make sure of it.

“But what’s going to happen to us? What on earth are we going to do now, darlin’?” she wails as she walks over to my bed. I take her hand and look straight into her eyes.

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