Dying to Tell (31 page)

A knock sounded, and Jake asked if he could come in. “Yes,” Sadie answered, although her voice sounded slurred, and colors danced in front of her eyes.

Jake poked his head in. “Are you ready?”

Sadie nodded and pushed herself off the bed. But the room swayed again, spinning crazily.

Jake grabbed her around the waist. “Dammit, Sadie, I can’t believe they did this to you. Let me get a wheelchair.”

“No, I can walk,” she said, clinging to the last remnants of her shredded dignity.

“You are still as stubborn as you were ten years ago,” he muttered as he helped her toward the door.

Sadie clung to him for support as they left the room. Her legs felt heavy and unsteady, her feet like dead weights, and she had to remind herself to put one foot in front of the other as she made the trek down the hall. They passed Mazie in the corridor, and the nurse frowned, then looked away. The few feet to the front door seemed like a marathon.

Finally they stepped outside, and she inhaled the fresh air, hoping it would alleviate the nausea climbing to her throat. The last thing she wanted to do was throw up in front of Jake.

She hated that she had to lean on him now, when she was still keeping secrets. The parking lot was another obstacle, and her legs wobbled with each step. He opened the car door, and she sank into the seat and leaned her head back, gulping in more air. But voices echoed in her head, and her vision blurred.

She closed her eyes to shut out the images. But they bombarded her anyway—dead bodies floated in front of her. A river of them. Then ghosts flew at her. Ghosts with sharp claws.

Had the nurse given her a hallucinogen?

She gripped the edge of the seat, struggling to hold on to reality. The images were just a bad dream. They weren’t real. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered.

Jake covered her hand with his. “I’m so sorry, Sadie.”

Emotions welled in her throat as the hospital disappeared behind them, and the car ate the miles to the farmhouse. The storm had gathered, rain pinging off the car so loudly it sounded like rocks hitting metal.

The world grew foggy, monsters creeping from the woods around them.

“I don’t know how Amelia escaped,” Sadie said as they rounded a curve and turned onto the road leading to the farm. “Or where she would go.”

“Maybe she’ll come home,” he said.

“I hope so.”

Sadie closed her eyes again, mentally battling the monsters coming at her. But the same face kept tormenting her. Arthur Blackwood’s.

“What happened when you last talked to your sister?” Jake asked.

Sadie sifted through the fog, latching on to the comforting sound of his familiar voice. “I asked her about the night Papaw died, but she didn’t remember. Then Viola appeared, and then Skid. He was angry.”

“What did they tell you?”

Sadie blinked, seeing double for a moment. She couldn’t hear, couldn’t even think straight. “I...my head is so fuzzy.”

“It’s okay,” Jake said softly. “We can talk after you sleep for a while.”

Sadie nodded, the trees passing by in a blur.

If one of Amelia’s alters was in control, there was no telling where he or she might go. Viola might look for a man to soothe her with a night of hot sex.

But Skid had a mountain of pent-up rage inside him. He might be dangerous.

“Wait,” Sadie said, Skid’s comment echoing in her head. “Skid said that my nosing around was going to get Amelia killed.”

Jake hissed between his teeth. “What did he mean by that?”

“I don’t know,” Sadie said in a strained voice. “That maybe we’re on to something.”

A shudder coursed through her. Skid had warned her that he had to protect Amelia. And he had killed Arthur Blackwood to do just that.

If he thought
she
was endangering Amelia, would he come after her?

Jake felt powerless as he parked in front of the farmhouse and helped Sadie inside. Dammit, she was suffering and frightened, and he wanted to alleviate her pain.

He parked and rushed around the side of the car to help her out. Her pallor and listless eyes worried him. Independent and stubborn as ever, she tried to stand, but her legs gave way. He scooped her up into his arms, ignoring her feeble protests, which faded as she lapsed into tears.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered as he unlocked her door and carried her upstairs to her bedroom. The room looked the same as it had when she was a teenager.

How many times had Walt wished she’d return? She had probably left as big a void in the old man’s life as she had in Jake’s. It was a damn shame it had taken his death to bring her home.

And now her sister was missing...

What was Amelia doing now? What would happen if someone found her and tried to bring her in? What if she resisted or fought the police?

Determined to take care of Sadie, he yanked down the homemade quilt Sadie’s grandmother had made and gently deposited her on the bed.

Sadie rolled sideways on a sob, and his heart wrenched as she began to bat at some invisible demon. Dammit, the hospital ought to be sued for making such a colossal mistake.

Perspiration beaded on her face and neck. “They’re attacking me,” she cried. “Stop them, Jake. The bones...the dead people...they’re flying at me.”

Jake frowned, his heart drumming as he realized the narcotics must be causing her to hallucinate.

She swung her hands out again and screamed; then he realized she was trembling uncontrollably. Jake couldn’t take it anymore. He slid down beside her and folded her into his arms.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here now.” Just as he had when they were teenagers, he rocked her in his arms and stroked her hair, soothing her and holding her while she cried.

For a moment, his professional voice kicked in. He should focus on questioning her. Locating her sister.

On not getting involved.

But hell. He had called in the APB on Amelia, and there was nothing else he could do right now.

So he stretched out on the bed and comforted her, willing away her fears. “I promise I’ll make this right,” he whispered into her hair.

Slowly her sobs subsided, but her breathing was choppy as she drifted into a fitful sleep. Each time he tried to leave her, she jerked and started trembling again, another cry escaping.

He thought of all the nights he’d held her like this when they were young. How badly he’d wanted to slay her dragons and bring joy into her life.

And he had tried.

But somehow his love hadn’t been enough.

She curled her hands up against his chest, hanging on to him, and he squeezed her tight and pressed a kiss into her hair.

God, he’d understood that the college scholarship was a good opportunity for her. But the timing had been horrible. His dad had just gone missing the week before.

And the way she’d broken it off—she’d been so cold. Had written him a letter and left the flint necklace he’d given her. The one he’d made out of the arrowhead they’d found at the river. It hadn’t cost much, but it had been a symbol. The flint had lasted through storms and battles; so would they.

But in the note she’d said it was over, that she wanted a clean break. No phone calls. No visits. No trying to make a long-distance relationship work.

He had been devastated.

But he’d never forgotten how she’d felt in his arms. Or how much he wanted her back there again.

He kissed her hair again, savoring her feminine scent. He had failed her before. He’d be damned if he’d fail her again.

Even if she didn’t love him, he couldn’t deny what he’d known all along. That he still cared about Sadie.

He always had, and he always would.

Sadie battled the dead for hours. The voices, the dark tunnel, the sounds of bones creaking, the image of Arthur Blackwood’s face glaring down at her.

“Murderer. Liar. Leave my son alone.”

Sadie jerked awake, terrified that Jake’s father was really in the room.

But Jake lay next to her instead. He had drifted asleep beside her, his arms around her, his face so near that his beard stubble grazed her cheek.

He was so handsome he took her breath away.

Tears threatened again, the urge to kiss him making her ache with desire. She had tried dating a few times, but her heart just hadn’t been in it.

Because she’d given her heart to Jake when she was seventeen.

And she’d been terrified of loving again.

Besides, no other man had ever touched her the way he had. Not just physically but emotionally.

She had loved him as a young girl.

She loved him now.

Her heart pitched. But loving him meant she had to keep her secrets. And continue the lies.

Thankfully, the worst of the narcotics seemed to be dissipating, but fatigue still pulled at her limbs, so she curled back into
Jake’s arms. She wanted to kiss him, to make love to him, to feel his naked body pressed against hers.

She couldn’t act on that hunger, but she could savor his arms cradling her while she slept.

His breath bathed her face as she drifted away again. This time she dreamed that she had never left town, that her sister wasn’t ill, that Amelia hadn’t murdered Arthur Blackwood, that she and Jake had married and had a baby of their own.

They’d never stopped loving each other and had made love night and day for years. Her body tingled as his thigh brushed hers, her heart fluttering as she lifted her lips and pressed them to his neck. He moaned softly, and she placed one hand against his cheek and nibbled at his mouth.

This time he groaned, then dragged her against him. His body felt hard and so masculine that heat seared her, and she deepened the kiss. He threaded his hands into her hair and claimed her mouth with his, whispering her name as he teased her body to life.

She eased the buttons on his shirt open and raked her hands across his chest. Another moan erupted from him, and he wrapped one leg around hers, pulling her so tightly against his body that his arousal pulsed between her thighs. He was thick and big and hard, eliciting memories of the first night they’d joined their bodies and become one.

The hot need thrumming through her intensified, and she trailed kisses along his chest, desperate for more. For any morsel of love Jake had left to give.

Suddenly Jake’s hands were everywhere. On her face, her body, pulling at her shirt. She urged him on, begging him with her body to take her as she gasped for breath.

“Jake...”

“Sadie, God, I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she whispered.

He slid one hand inside her shirt and cupped her breast, and she groaned, needing him naked and closer to her. Wanting him with every fiber of her being.

But suddenly a door slammed somewhere in the distance. A voice yelled her name.

Jake must have heard the voice and the footsteps as well, because he tensed. The voice again.

Ms. Lettie was home.

Shivering with unspent desire, she looked up into Jake’s eyes. He was watching her, his breathing erratic, his shirt half open, his chest damp and red where her mouth had been.

Sadie struggled between reality and the fact that her body was still humming with need, and that she didn’t want him to stop.

Jake’s eyes darkened with a charged kind of animal hunger that she hadn’t seen from a man since she’d been with him.

But she also recognized other emotions in his eyes.

Regret. Anger. Denial.

Then he pushed himself off the bed and hastily buttoned his shirt. “I’m sorry, Sadie.”

“Jake—”

He pressed his finger over her lips. “Don’t say anything.”

Footsteps pounded on the wood floor below. “Sadie, are you up there?”

Sadie froze, rattled as she heard Ms. Lettie storming up the stairs. “I just wanted to see if you were okay, and if you’ve heard anything about Amelia.”

Sadie hurriedly straightened her clothing, and Jake moved to the door. Ms. Lettie hobbled in, her eyes widening when she spotted Jake in the doorway and Sadie on the bed.

“Oh, dear, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She backed out of the doorway, but Jake caught her arm.

“No, don’t go. I was about to call you to stay with Sadie.”

Ms. Lettie frowned, then glanced at Sadie. “So you haven’t found Amelia yet?”