Page 10 of Bound By Water
He pockets the photo and thrusts his fingers through his grey hair. “There are a few things in your dad’s past. In my past. Enemies. I doubt this is related, but I have to know for sure.” His worried gaze darts to me. “I know this is confusing, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Once I know for sure, I’ll be able to figure out our next steps.”
My head rears back. “My father?” Even though it’s been years, I immediately see his smiling face and humor-filled forest green eyes the exact same color as my own. He was always joking and teasing my mom and me. Everyone loved him. “What enemies?”
Lionel immediately reaches for my hands. “I can’t tell you.” He holds up his hand when I open my mouth. “Please don’t ask. All these years, I’ve kept you safe, and I’m not about to stop now.”
All these years. The words ring in my brain.
One thing had always bugged me about the night of the accident, but the police had quickly dismissed it. “Dad was upset that night. He and my mom were talking in the front seat, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. All I remember is his hands, clenching the steering wheel, us speeding up, bright lights.” Panic rises in me. Breathing fast, I try to push past the lights to see more. “He yelled. Something slammed into us.”
The car started flipping over and over. Somehow, my seatbelt came loose, and I was thrown out the window. I must have passed out. When I woke, I was lying in a large pond. Our car was farther down the hill. In flames. Then, I blacked out. I remember nothing until the hospital.
Tears roll down my face as I recall the worst night of my life. Their screams. The certainty of the flames. My body broken. My mind filled with horror. The past wraps its tight grip around me until all I can do is stare helplessly at Lionel as the abyss in my mind threatens to drag me under.
Lionel grabs my arms and shakes me. “Stop. I’ve got you. You’re safe, and I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I stare up at him. If my dad had enemies… “Did someone deliberately hit us?” Holding my breath, I wait for him to tell me I’m wrong.
He sighs heavily. “The police ruled it an accident, but it wasn’t. Your father was trying to get to me, but he waited too long. They got to him first.”
Reeling, I pull away and stumble back from him and the truth he just blurted out. “Who got to him?” Betrayal punches me in the gut. “All this time, you hid this from me. Why? I deserve to know what happened.”
His green eyes harden. “No, you don’t.” He returns bluntly. “Knowing could have gotten you killed. The best way to protect you was to show them that you weren’t a threat. If I hadn’t… I don’t know what they would have done.”
Frustrated at his lack of answers, I throw up my hands. “Who would I be a threat to? I was a sixteen-year-old girl.” When he says nothing, I grab his arm. “Why can’t you tell me?”
“Because if it’s not the past, I don’t want to open that door. Right now, you have a life. A future. More than anything, I know your parents would want me to do everything in my power to make sure you have the opportunity to live it. If I tell you anything, the future you envision will be gone,” he reveals, to my astonishment.
He grabs my phone and punches in a number. “If I don’t return by Sunday, call this number. I’m going to list it under Help. Tell the person who answers that the Colonel gave this number to you. Then tell them, Raven has found you. Repeat.”
Bewildered, I spit out his instructions. Raven? The black bird that croaks in the trees? Panic sets in. “You’re leaving?”
He nods. “I have to. Whatever the person on the phone tells you to do, you do it. I trust them. Completely.” He fiddles with my phone for a few minutes. “I’m installing the security app on your phone. An alert will pop up if someone triggers the sensors. If someone is here, don’t come home. Stay at the library or find an all-night diner until they leave.” Bending close, he shows me where to find the app and how to use it.
“Follow your normal routine,” he orders me. When I start to protest, he cuts me off. “I don’t want you to trigger them into acting. Right now, they’re just watching. Let them.” He hands me my phone. “Can you do this for me? Please.”
Helpless, I stare into his worried green eyes. “I’ll try.” With a cry, I throw my arms around him, hugging him tightly as I breathe in the scent of his old-fashioned aftershave and use it to calm myself. “Please be careful.”
He squeezes me hard. “I love you, Willa.”
“I love you too, Lionel,” I whisper, my throat choking with the words. He means so much to me. A father who loved and protected me after mine was gone. “Please come home.”
* * *
On edgeand barely able to concentrate, Wednesday is a disaster. When someone slams into me in the hallway after class, I scream. The guy’s face turns red as he holds up his hands. I stammer an apology and practically run to my next class. I’m so exhausted by the end of the day, I crawl into bed early. But I can’t sleep. Every time I hear a noise outside, I grab my phone and pull up the camera, hoping it’s Lionel, praying it’s not one of my stalkers. The only time my fear abates is when I push myself to remember the night of the accident, but it’s an endless loop. The same sequence plays over and over without change.
I drag myself out of bed Thursday and make my way to the rehab center for clinicals. Thankfully, it’s busy, and my mind is able to take a break from this nightmare and concentrate on my patients. But when I step out the door, I feel someone’s eyes on me. I know they’re there.
Nauseous, I fight the urge to run and casually stroll to my car, then get in. My hands shake as I turn the key. Tempted to keep driving until I’m out of the city, I force myself to return to my apartment. The second I walk in the door, I run for the toilet and throw up the little bit of food I managed to eat for lunch. Unable to face the apartment, I shut and lock the bathroom door, then curl up on the cold tile. It seeps into my skin and bones, numbing me, and for the first time in days, I feel safe. Unable to bring myself to leave my little refuge, I stay in the small bathroom the rest of the night, dozing on and off.
Friday arrives, and I sweep the hair back from my worn face. I need this week to be over. I’m so tired of trying to be strong. The sleep I got last night helped, but I feel fragile, like I could break at any moment. Scraping my hair into a bun, I drag myself out of the apartment to the university.
Once my only class is over, I contemplate going to the grocery store like usual, but I can’t face the crowded aisles. My stomach rumbles loudly, telling me to eat something, and I decide to treat myself to a sandwich at the little bistro near campus.
Normally, I would walk, but the car feels safer, so I get in and drive over. It’s not quite lunchtime and, thankfully, the place is relatively empty. I order a Tuscan Chicken Wrap combo with a drink and a bag of chips. Taking a seat by the window so I can watch the parking lot, I slowly pick at the meal. It tastes like sawdust, but I make myself eat it.
Lionel hasn’t called. I’m trying not to worry, but it’s hard. Ever since Tuesday, I’ve managed to avoid thinking about our discussion. The accident that changed my life that wasn’t an accident. Some faceless enemy deliberately… murdering my parents.
Lionel and my dad were in the same Army unit. It’s where they met and became fast friends, but is that also where they made enemies? My dad left the service and started working in insurance, but Lionel stayed in.
