Page 2 of Toxic

Don’t hold your breath, dear. But it’s a free country.

All at once, without seeming to move, Steve is beside Miranda’s bed. He briefly touches her cheek. The concern on his face causes Connor’s heart to soften. Begrudgingly, he admits to himself that Steve was once her daddy too. And he reminds himself that wherever he and Steve are today, however betrayed Connor felt, his ex was once a component of their lives, integral—family.

Steve and Miranda will always love each other. Their bond is family, unbreakable.

Connor stands and gives Steve an awkward hug, dropping his hands before Steve has much of a chance to return it. He feels cold, different somehow, his body lighter as though made up of bird bones and tissue.

“She’s gotta be okay. This was all my fault.”

Steve shakes his head and, in Steve’s eyes, Connor sees something he thought had left their relationship completely—compassion. “That’s not true and you know it.”

“No. It is. I should have listened to her. She told me the first time she met Trey that she didn’t like him, that there was something off about him.”

“Ah, if we all only had the gift of 20/20 hindsight. But we don’t. Quit beating yourself up.”

Connor tries to smile, to show some gratitude and knows he fails.

With Steve, Connor falls into a prolonged silence, staring down at Miranda. Her head is swathed in bandages, a gauze turban. Her forehead, so recently smooth and unlined, now bears a jagged gash, stitched up. Yet she looks peaceful, serene.

Connor knows that right now peace is the one thing that’s impossible.

Suddenly, Steve’s presence feels like an irritant, annoying. Connor fears if he doesn’t get him away he’ll say something he might regret. He doesn’t know if Miranda can hear them or not, but if there’s the slightest chance she can, he doesn’t want her to witness family discord. Not now. Her life depends on it.

“I need to be alone with her, okay?” Connor reaches down and takes the flowers from Steve’s hand. “I’ll find a vase and put these in water.” He glances down at them again and sees not daisies, but a piece of jagged driftwood and seaweed.

He blinks and the bouquet morphs into a dozen pink sweetheart roses.

He tries again for a smile, but he’s lost the capacity. He’s sure what he wants to be a smile is more of a grimace. “When she wakes up—and she will—I know these will cheer her up. Roses are her favorite.”

Steve grins. “I remembered.”

Sure you did. Irises are Miranda’s favorite. And weren’t these a bunch of daisies?

Connor closes his eyes. And then opens them as he jolts awake.

He’s alone with Miranda once more. There’s no trace of Steve. At first, he surmises Steve must have slipped soundlessly from the room. And then he remembers…

The horror.

Steve wasn’t here.

In spite of the knowledge, he gropes for the bouquet on the bedside table. But there’s nothing there but a plastic cup with a straw and a decanter of water. He bends down to hold his daughter. He strokes her hair, her cheek, as he did when she was a little girl.

There’s no one else in the world he’d rather hold.

When she does awaken, he knows she’ll ask, “Where is he? What happened to him?” and he’s not sure how he’ll tell her.

The time may come sooner than he hoped. Miranda stirs a bit and her eyelids flutter.

Part One

Chapter One

“I KNOW WHOyou are and I saw what you did.”

The voice on the phone was tinged with acid, yet came out a little shaky and short of breath.

Despite the fear and acrimony in the voice, Trey Goodall hoped that the caller, a man named Jimmy Dale, was making a feeble joke, a lame reference to an old black-and-white thriller from the ’60s. Trey wasn’t ready for his game to be over.

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