The Dark Light of Day Page 95
Jake sucked in his breath.
“I went to lock the storage unit for Reggie. I wanted to walk. Owen showed up near the boat house. He dragged me down to the beach under the bridge.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried to. I wanted to. I was going to. But when you came back, you were so fucking angry at me. No one had trusted me my entire life, Jake – no one had ever taken me seriously, never believed in me. No one but Nan. ”
“I didn’t trust you either, did I?” Jake pulled me off the couch and into his arms. He sobbed into my hair and spoke between gulps of breath. “I was such an ass. Willie Ray had come up to talk to me when I was filling the bike at the station. I bought you flowers. He asked who they were for. I was practically giddy to see you again. Never felt that way in my whole life. I told him they were for you. There was no point in denying us. Most of them already knew about us anyway. I wanted everyone to know you were mine.” Jake squeezed me tighter. “That’s when he told me he saw Owen coming out from under the bridge with his zipper down, his hair a mess. Willie Rae asked him what he was doing. Owen told him he was down there with you.”
“He was, just not the way you thought.” I tried to be strong as I told him. “I put up a fight. I swear I did. He was so strong, and I was barely conscious....”
“I know you fought him, Bee. I know you did. And I wasn’t fucking here for you. It’s all my fucking fault.”
“No. If you hadn’t left, I wouldn’t have kept her. I would have known she was Owen’s, and I would have gotten rid of her because of you. I was so close to doing it anyway. But since I had nothing and she was already such a survivor, I kept her. I needed her because I didn’t have you. It was such a fucking selfish reason, but she was the good that came out of you leaving. As much as it hurt, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I should have told you everything after Frank’s funeral, on the very first day you came back.” My thoughts were back with Georgia, wondering where they’d taken her and how long it would be before someone let us know how she was. “I just can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I let it happen.”
“We can’t blame ourselves right now. We have to be strong for her, for our little girl.” Jake tucked a stray hair behind my ears and kissed my forehead.
We both jumped when the same nurse from earlier came into the waiting room. She had no news for us. She just needed my permission to give Georgia a transfusion and to ask what our religious preferences were.
“Religious preferences? For what?” I asked.
“Just in case ma’am,” the nurse answered politely. I sank down on the floor while Jake talked to the nurse. Their conversation was a muted blur.
Bethany had come back in. She’d been taking up a seat in the corner. I could see the horror in her face over what her son did. It was mixed with genuine fear over Georgia’s condition. She was tortured, just like us. She stood up anytime she heard the sound of shoes squeaking on the linoleum.
It wasn’t until the sun rose high above the windows of the waiting room that the doctor finally came in and addressed us. We all stood at attention. He looked past us as he spoke. “She’s awake now but won’t be for long. Her little body has been through a lot, and she’s going to need a lot of rest.”
“But how is she?” I demanded.
“It wasn’t a direct hit, just scattered buck shots. Miraculously, none of it hit any major arteries or vital organs. There were a few fragments that narrowly missed her spine, but we got them out. She lost a lot of blood during all of this, so we gave her a transfusion.” I couldn’t believe we were discussing my little girl in terms like these. “Barring any unforeseen circumstances, and even though it’ll take a little time, it looks like she’s going to make a full recovery.” Jake caught me before my knees gave out, and I almost fell to the floor. We’ll keep her for a few nights in the ICU under observation, just to make sure everything stays as it should.”
Full recovery. Georgia was going to be okay. She was going to live. “Can I see her?” I asked eagerly.
“Yes, but only for a few minutes. And just one person, please. Also, I don’t want her upset because you are upset so stay calm in front of her. We need her relaxed and comfortable. She’s a little loopy from the pain medicine, but you can go in.”
I bolted past the doctor and left him explaining something to Jake. I realized I didn’t ask what room in the ICU she was in, so I found a nurse I recognized from earlier, and she pointed the way. When I got into the room, there was a white curtain pulled around the bed; on the left was an IV drip and a dozen flashing and beeping machines.