Fated Bliss (Bliss #2) (39 page)

When it came down to it, I didn’t trust either of them.

“We deserve that,” Mom interjected, wiping tears from her face. “We deserve every bit of your anger.”

Dad folded Mom’s hand in his, comforting her. “We do.” They had an unspoken conversation again. Giving her one last squeeze, Dad let her hand go and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Dad?” I questioned, glancing around to make sure no one saw.
Has he lost his mind?
“What are you doing?”

“I’m showing you what caused the change,” he explained as he finished a final button and pulled his shirt apart.

I gasped, feeling as if the earth had shifted under me.

There was a ten-inch scar running down his chest. I was a doctor, so I knew what it meant and the severity behind it.

“Heart surgery,” I whispered, my eyes rounded.

Dad nodded and started buttoning his shirt again.

“After you’d come to confront us about Gwen,” Mom began, wringing her hands together, “I snapped out of it.” Her brows furrowed. “It’s the only way to describe it. I’ve been living in a fog for the last twenty-five years, and it took the look of devastation on your face to wake me from that.” Her mouth and jaw quivered, but she powered through. “I stopped drinking that day. It was hell, Ben, but I knew I had to do something or I was going to lose the two most important people in my life…Lincoln and you. Once I detoxed and got myself together, I left your father.”

I wouldn’t have been more surprised if she hit me in the head with a sledgehammer.

“That’s when this happened,” Dad added, gesturing at his chest. “Between your estrangement and your mother leaving me, my heart gave out. Right as the door closed behind her, I had a heart attack in the middle of our living room. And guess what, Ben? No one was there. You and your mom were gone. I was alone and dying. And whose fault was that?” He shook his head, pressing his lips together, and slapped his chest. “Me. It was all
my
fault.”

“His only saving grace was that I forgot my keys,” Mom revealed, answering my next question before I could ask it. “I found him on the floor and called 911.”

Dad smiled at Mom and took her hand again. “It changed me, Ben. The whole experience did. When I woke up, I knew I had to do something to repair the wreckage I’d made. Your mother was the first thing. It took some time to convince her, but she finally agreed to give me another chance.”

“Your father wasn’t always like that,” Mom divulged, her words quiet. “When I met him, he could be sweet and loving. The change happened slowly and continued to get worse. I got lost in it.” A soft smile curved her lips. “Well, when he woke up after surgery, he was the man I married, and it reminded me of all the good times. Thirty-five years of marriage shouldn’t be thrown away – it should stand for something – so I took him back.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” I asked, astonished. “I was in Portland when it happened. I would’ve…” Well, I wasn’t sure what I’d do, but if Dad were in the hospital, I would have at least seen him. I would have helped Mom with rehab, too.

“We didn’t want to burden you further,” Dad explained. “You had enough to last a lifetime.”

I massaged my jaw and tried to come up with a reply, but I had none.

They were trying to look out for me?!

I glanced around again to see if there were any hidden cameras anywhere.

“We wanted to come to you when we were stronger, mind, body, and soul,” Mom added. “You were busy rebuilding your life after Gwen. We wanted you to have that time. We needed it, too. There were things that had to be done.”

I shook my head, trying to wrap my brain around this. “What about London? You flew Linc back to Portland without my permission.”

“After you left, we knew our time was running out. We had to find a way to get you to talk to us,” Dad enlightened me, his mouth twitching as if he wanted to laugh. “You ruined that plan when you made Linc meet you at the airport.”

My jaw ticked. “That kind of domineering behavior is what got us in this mess, Dad.”

Dad’s face fell, but he recovered quickly and dipped his chin in shame. “I know.”

“And Uri? What about him? You sent him to spy on me.”

There couldn’t be an explanation for that. Sending Uri here was invasive and low.

Dad shrugged. “It’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks.”

“Dad,” I rumbled in warning.

“When the time came for us to come to you with all this, we wanted you to be in a good place, Ben. Since you wouldn’t talk to us, we had to find out some way. That’s where Uri came in.”
I bet that goaded Uri to death.
“You’ll never see Uri again, Ben. I’ve sold the company. I am officially retired. It was something else I needed to accomplish before I approached you. I wanted you to know how serious I was about starting over.”

“You sold…” I shook my head, wondering if I heard him wrong. “You sold your company?!”

This had to be a trick.

“Yep. Every piece.”

“You’ve spent your whole life building it!”

He missed everything in my life to have it!

“And look where that’s gotten me,” he pointed out. “It should’ve never mattered over you and your mother.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but the surprising wail of a siren stopped me. From the patio, I watched as a police car sped by, heading down Main Street towards the city limits. More and more sirens started adding to it quickly, the cacophony of sounds growing so loud that it was hard to hear anything at all, and five squad cars raced past the B&B.

Something bad happened.

Hard and brutal, the thought struck me over the head. I stood, a sinking sense of dread creeping over me, and pulled my phone from my pocket.

“Ben?” Dad questioned as the noise began to taper off in the distance.

Ignoring him, I dialed Samantha’s number.

It rang and rang and rang.

“Hey, this is Sam-”

I disconnected.

“No,” I whispered and dialed Linc’s number.

It rang and rang and rang.

“It’s Linc. Leave-”

I disconnected.

“No.”

“Ben?”

Why weren’t they answering?!

You know, Ben. You’ve felt this coming.

Panicked, I ran across the patio and powered down the steps, dialing Linc’s number.

“
Ben?!
” Dad yelled after me.

I rushed to my Bronco and threw the door open as it went to voicemail again.

Please, God.

I dialed Samantha’s number and turned the ignition. The door opened, and Brad jumped into the seat. “
Go, go, go!
” he shouted, slapping the dashboard repeatedly.

Disconnecting, I threw the phone in the back seat. I shifted into reverse and floored it, whipping my Bronco around.

“What happened?” I demanded.

The tires screeched as I switched gears and zipped down the driveway.

Brad turned to me, and his eyes caused the air in my lungs to freeze and turn to weighted ice.

Stark terror.

Brad’s voice came out low and riddled with anguish. “Shots fired at your house.”

Chapter 32

Ben

Erratic and all
over the place, my heart and mind raced. Nothing could happen to either of them. Linc and Samantha had to be okay.

They’re fine.

“What happened?” I asked again.

Brad’s knuckles were white as he gripped the dashboard. “A call came into the police station. One of your neighbors heard shots and thought they came from your house.”

Key word, thought.

Oh, thank Christ.

“But you don’t know for sure, right?” I asked to be sure.

Brad’s fearful gaze caught mine. “The arriving officer had to call for backup. My buddy at the station said possible homicide.”

Dear God.

“What?” I gasped, my throat tight.

Brad shook his head. “He said there’s blood everywhere.”

My chest seized.

“No,” I wheezed, taking a corner too fast, and increased my speed. “No, it’s fine. They’re fine.”

“I pray you’re right,” Brad whispered, his voice so small I barely heard him.

I
have
to be right.

The drive was filled with tense silence. I kept thinking
this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.

A homicide?

At my house?

I felt raw fear a few times in my life. Once, when Linc was little, he broke his arm when he fell out of a tree. Another time was when Linc called me and told me about Gwen’s overdose. The fear each time was real and powerful, but nothing compared or came close to this feeling.

Nothing.

This fear tore out your insides, hollowing you out. It was eviscerating and crippling, making every thought process disjointed and muddled.

As we sailed down the last stretch of road, the chaotic scene in front of my house held my sole focus. There were several police cruisers and unmarked cars. A firetruck was parked off to the side, out of the way. People were everywhere.

“God, no,” I whispered, my heart in my throat.

Seeing that changed everything, making it more real, acuter. An urgency to get inside my house took over, overriding all logic.

As I pulled into the driveway, a cop tried to stop me. I drove past him, ignoring the angry shouts. I parked by the firetruck and didn’t even turn off the engine. I was out of the Bronco in a flash, with Brad hot on my heels as we dashed towards the front door.

“Whoa!” an officer shouted. Two more were behind him, all three of them running towards us, blocking our path. Brad and I collided with them, trying to fight against them. Two more officers ran up, helping them push us back.

“That’s my house!” I yelled. “My son!” I struggled harder, needing to get inside. “
Linc! Samantha!
”

“Sir, you need to calm down,” one of them ordered, helping the others thrust me back.

I skidded backward a few feet, the crushed grass slick under my shoes. Crazed, I was about to make another lunge at them, but Brad’s voice broke through the fog.

“Aaron Donohue, you better let us pass,” Brad growled, his frame pulsating with rage and terror as he wrestled against one officer’s hold. “We need to find out what’s goin’ on in there! Sam’s in that house! So is his son!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop,” the man, Aaron, shouted at the men holding us.

Hesitantly, they let us go and took a step back, their postures wary and on guard.

Brad and I calmed slightly, but my determination to get to Linc and Samantha left me strung out, and I prowled back and forth in front of them.

“You said Sam’s here?” Aaron asked and met another officer’s wide gaze, their breathing heavy. “And your son?”

“Yes,” I seethed. “They were here this morning.”

“Wait here a moment.” Aaron stepped aside and spoke softly into the radio on his uniform.

I pulled at my hair, watching a few people walk in and out of my house and around the perimeter. I’d never felt this helpless.

“Come with me,” Aaron finally said and turned, partially jogging towards the front door.

“What happened in there?” I asked, following him, our pace rapid.

“I’ll let you speak with Detective Wilde,” Aaron replied.

Grinding my teeth, I snarled, “Are they okay? Have you seen Samantha or my son? What’s going on?!”

Before he could answer, a man walked out the front door and met us on my porch. He was broad-shouldered, had long brown wavy hair tucked behind his ears and an air of authority.

He addressed Brad first and shook his hand. “Mr. Raiden.”

“Wes,” Brad replied, his voice stiff with tension. “Can you tell us what’s goin’ on?”

“You’re the owner?” Wes asked me, ignoring Brad’s question.

“Yes. Ben Rhodes. My son and girlfriend were here when I left this morning. Are they okay? We heard there’s a possible homicide.”

“I’m Detective Wilde, Mr. Rhodes.” He opened a small notepad and wrote something down in it. “Can you tell me where you were for the last, say, two hours?”

I blinked slowly. “What?”

Is he mad?!

Anger consumed me. I pointed inside the house, shouting, “My son is in there! The woman I love! Tell me
what’s going on!
”

Wes wasn’t fazed by my anger, and his kind green eyes stayed steady on me. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rhodes. I know this is difficult, but this is a routine question. For me to allow you inside, I need you to tell me your whereabouts.”

“Am I a suspect?” I breathed, stunned.

“He’s been at the B&B with me, his parents, and Emma before we left to come here,” Brad informed him, his urgency to get inside riding him just as hard. “He was there for at least forty-five minutes, an hour tops.”

“Good. Before that?” Wes asked, scribbling in his notepad.

I wiped my mouth with my fist, wanting to scream at him, but I kept it together. “I’m…I’m a doctor at the clinic in town. I saw patients all morning.”

“Good.” Wes nodded and tucked his notepad into his blazer. “That should be easy to check.” As he turned, he waved us in the house. “Follow me. When we get into the den, I’ll need you to stay clear of the kitchen. It’s a crime scene.”

My stomach and chest wrenched viciously, and I had to swallow down bile. “Okay.”

Every muscle trembled as we stepped into my house. I could hear voices, but I didn’t detect the ones that mattered the most. We passed the formal dining room and sitting room first. Two cops were off to the side, talking low, but everything looked as it did this morning.

Wes stopped before we could enter the den, pointing a severe stare at us. “I need you to prepare yourself for what you’re about to see.” He met my eyes. “You said your son was here, right?”

Was?

Was?!

“Wh…what? What do you mean was? He’s…he’s not here?” I questioned, about to come unglued.

If Lincoln isn’t here, where is he?

The detective shook his head. “We haven’t found him yet, but we’ll start canvassing the area. However, if this is an abduction, I need you to tell me what you see in there. What’s different? Is anything missing? Out of place? Keep all of that in mind as you look around. Do you understand?”

Abduction?

Abductions and violence happen at every minute of every day. Hell, I’d seen a lot of it during my time in the ER, but I never thought it would happen to me or someone I loved.

“Yes. Yes, I understand,” I rasped, combing my fingers through my hair.

Wes walked into the den and then stepped out of the way. A force collided with my chest when I caught the first glimpse of the kitchen over the bar.

There was a bullet hole in a window and one in the microwave. Red specks covered the wall and cabinets next to Lincoln’s hallway.

Blood spatter.

I had to reach out and catch myself on the wall. I’d seen a lot of blood in my time, but the probability of it belonging to Lincoln or Samantha wrecked me, and my legs threatened to give out.

Brad let out a sound resembling a hiss and pained moan, just as distressed.

“Follow me, Mr. Rhodes,” Wes murmured, extending his hand towards the den.

Wes made a wide arc around the bar, not wanting to contaminate the scene, and stopped in front of the couch. Brad and I joined him, taking in the destruction.

I glanced at everything, trying to do what Wes asked. Breakfast dishes still littered the counter on the bar, some of them broken. A coffee cup was knocked over, and coffee had spilled across the granite, pooled and sticky on the floor beneath it. Two of the six barstools were lying on the floor, but my eyes kept going back to the blood. It wasn’t only on the wall – there were smears everywhere and droplets dotting the ground, all remnants of a brutal struggle.

“I need you to do something for me,” Wes stated, breaking my focus.

“Wh…what?” I asked, numb and in shock.

He motioned at the walkway between the sliding glass door and the bar, the one that led to the kitchen. “Come with me.”

I followed him as he finished the arc around the room. He stood by the sliding glass door, leaving me some room to see into the kitchen. “Can you identify this woman?”

Brad made another sound behind me.

I squeezed my eyes closed, preparing myself to see something that would no doubt change my life forever.

You’ve seen a lot of death, Ben. You can do this.

“Yes,” I whispered gruffly. “Yes, I’ll try.”

Please, Lord, don’t let this be Samantha.

But who else could it be?

The thought of never seeing her beautiful face or her smile, never smelling her hair or feeling her body against mine, never hearing her voice again was debilitating.

I can’t do this.

But Linc needed me. He was out there somewhere, experiencing God knows what. I needed to do everything and answer every question the police asked to find him.

With tears in my eyes, I stepped passed Wes and looked into the kitchen. Two officers were down on the floor with a woman. All you could see were her legs because they were hovering over her. Blood smeared across the floor around her, some of it in small puddles. However, it was very clear that she was on a stretcher – you could see it under her – the kind that unfolded and you had to carry.

Holy shit!

“She’s still alive?!” I yelled and took a step forward.

A hand collided with my chest. “Mr. Rhodes-”

I pushed Wes’s hand aside, my anger burning bright and volatile. “Dr. Rhodes, Detective. I have several years of experience in the ER. Why didn’t you say something sooner?!”

“I can’t let you contaminate the scene any more than you already have, Dr. Rhodes. They have the bleeding staunched for now. A helicopter is on its way to fly her to the hospital in Asheville. There’s nothing else you can do.”

“I can damn sure try. Samantha needs me!” I attempted to push past him, but he stopped me again.

“Dr. Rhodes, that isn’t Samantha Raiden.”

Brad gasped in relief.

The same feeling rushed through me, leaving me light headed. “It’s not?” I whispered, swaying.

“No, I’ve known Samantha for some time. I would have told both of you already if it were.”

And he’s just telling us now?!

“You could have led with that,” I gritted out.

“We’ve only been here a few more minutes than you. As you can see, something very bad happened here, and your son is missing. I’m sorry I didn’t have the foresight to assure you, but we don’t have time to waste.”

I slapped his hand away. “Let me pass. I don’t care if that isn’t Samantha; that woman needs my help.”

Wes remained calm and collected. “Both of my men have the training and know how to take care of her. Right now, I need you to tell me if you know her. It could give us vital information that might help locate Samantha and your son. Based on this scene,” he pointed at the blood smeared across the hardwood, “I believe both of their lives are in danger.”

I took a deep breath, attempting to calm down. “Okay.” I nodded to him. “Okay.”

But I was far from calm.

“Grant,” Wes called out, “can you move to the side a little?”

The man didn’t respond, only did as asked, revealing the woman’s face.

Air whooshed out of my chest.

Gwen.

It never crossed my mind that it could be Gwen. My total focus had been on Samantha and Lync that I never thought…

Though I couldn’t see her entire body, I could see her face. Her eyes were closed, and small flecks of blood sprinkled her neck and chin. Her lip was split, and her color was horrible. She was in terrible shape.

Why is she here?

“You know her?” Wes asked, reading my face.

I covered my mouth, staring at her. “What happened?”

“Dr. Rhodes, do you know her?” he repeated.