Page 113 of The Last Dance You Saved
I wasn’t even sure what had happened. What was real. What was the past. What I had wanted to do versus what had really occurred.
McKenna had already gotten Fallon’s discharge papers ready by the time my parents and the teen came back from the cafeteria, but she wanted me to stay longer, at least until all the tests came back and she’d been able to monitor me for any nausea, dizziness, or signs of internal injuries. But what I wanted to do was leave, to get the hell out of the hospital with its beeping machines and smell of antiseptic that reminded me too much of being stuck here for weeks, fighting to feel my leg, to walk.
Hours had gone by, the sun drifting through its peak and into the afternoon shadows, before I finally called a halt to it. Fallon was asleep on the bed next to me, and McK was shining the light in my eyes for what felt like the millionth time. I grabbed her hand and said quietly, “I just want to take Fallon home, McK. I don’t want to be here anymore. It reminds me too much of what happened before.”
While it was true that what had happened with Chainsaw and Mila was still mixing with what had happened today, I’d mostly said it to get her to agree to let me go.
She stared at me for a long time and then nodded. She gave my parents a long list of things to watch out for with both Fallon and me and then, finally, allowed us to leave.
When we pulled up to the ranch, it felt like it had been a week instead of the better part of the day since we’d left to take Parker to the rental car office.
Mama tried to fuss over us, and when I headed for the stairs, she followed on my heels. I sent her back to Fallon, saying I just needed to shower. Maddox had taken my clothes at the hospital, but I still had splotches of Adam’s blood on me. I needed to be free of it. Free of the body I could still feel weighing me down with my legs trapped.
How could I still feel everything physically when my insides were dead, as absent of feeling as some of the nerves in my leg from the bullet hole that had scored me?
As I showered, those flashes of three years ago continued to mix with today. I relived coming awake in the creek to find Maddox and McKenna bent over me. The desperate fear for Mila. The terror rolling off Fallon as I’d taped her to a goddamn chair.
I shoved my wet hair into a clip, strands already slipping out of it before I’d left the bathroom. My phone light went off, and I realized I had a message. For one brief moment, hope slid into my dead heart, thinking it might be Rafe. But when I swiped it open, it was to see Maddox had left me a message.
“Hey, Sassy, the crime scene techs are done. Ryder told me the cameras were down, but it must have just been the outside feed they hacked, because I was able to pull video from the internal cameras. Everything on them corroborates Fallon’s statement. The entire case against Adam is going to be pretty cut and dry. I’ve pulled in a bunch of favors I had coming, and you should have the bar back tomorrow. Ryder and I are going to swing by in the morning to clean up. Ted and Patti can cover the shifts tomorrow. After that, we’ll all pitch in until you’re ready to come back. I just wanted you to know where it was at so you didn’t worry. Give me a call when you get a chance tonight. I love you.”
I should have felt something. Relieved at his worry and love. Glad he’d handled things for me with such care. But I didn’t feel anything. All I knew was that I needed to be away from here almost as much as I’d needed to be out of the hospital. I needed to clean up the mess I’d made. I needed out of the house before everyone in my family showed up with their sad eyes and sympathy.
I couldn’t handle it. Not again. God, I’d despised the pity so damn much the first time around. The pity and the worry and the shame. Ah, yes… there was an emotion finally. My cold, shutdown soul had finally come up with some deserving ones—shame and regret.
I pulled a pair of jeans from my dresser, but when I tried to drag them on, I found a whole set of bruises blooming along my hip and back from hitting the desk and the floor. I was certain they weren’t from any internal bleeding, but if I mentioned them to anyone, they’d send me back to the hospital. So, I ignored them, tossing the jeans aside and pulling on a loose, high-waisted skirt. I topped it with a blue McFlannigan’s tank before sliding into a pair of old cowboy boots I used for the sloppiest of work. They’d easily handle the clean-up at the bar.
As I went down the stairs, my old injury caused my leg to drag. Pushing it to function correctly took effort and slowed me down. Normally, it pissed me off, but instead, now I just felt resigned. It was misbehaving, not only because I was exhausted but because I was reliving that day at the creek, reliving every moment from when it had first been damaged.
Maybe I would always be damaged from now on.
Maybe I’d never feel anything but shame and regret ever again.
When I finally made it into the living room, it was to find Fallon asleep on the couch. She looked so young. So beautiful. But the crystal-clear bruise on her temple sent another stab of remorse through me. She’d been wounded on my watch.
Soft voices in the kitchen drew me and revealed my parents, holding each other and whispering. Mama pulled away from Daddy when she saw me.
“I fixed you a plate,” she said, nodding toward the warming tray.
“Thank you, but I’m not hungry,” I said.
Mama frowned. “You need to eat. Your body needs it.”
I ignored her and headed for the door, snagging Daddy’s truck keys from the hook there. My bag and my car were at the bar, but I’d risk driving without a license to get out of here.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.
“Maddox said I could clean up at the bar,” I told her.
“Sadie-girl, don’t you dare leave this house.” My dad’s voice was strong but quiet. His blue eyes, never as vivid as Mama’s and fading more as he aged, turned cloudy.
“I can’t sit here, Daddy. I just can’t… It won’t stop,” I said, pointing to my head and the flashes of the two awful days on repeat. “I need to fill it with something else.”
Tears hovered in Mama’s eyes, and I turned away, because if she started crying, I didn’t know what I’d do. I needed the numbness that had surrounded me. I wanted it. I had to keep it for as long as my body and brain would give it to me. I’d love to keep it forever.
“Rafe will be here soon,” I said. “You’ll need all the rooms upstairs for him and Lauren and Jim Steele, so I’ll stay at Uncle Phil’s tonight.”
Then, I turned and hurried out the door. Mama followed, hot on my heels. She stopped me on the porch steps with a gentle hand. When I turned, she rested her palm tenderly on my bruised cheek. My left eye was black already, a little swollen, and blurry, but I had another good eye. Just like I had two good hands and one and a half good legs that would let me do what needed to be done at the bar tonight.
