Heart Of Marley (38 page)

“I hope you’re right.” Doug turned to me, a look of unease on his face.

“I have to be.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

S
NEAKING
OUT
OF
MY
house just a few minutes before eight that evening, I made my way down the street toward the beach, thankful when I couldn’t spot Brianna’s Beetle in the public lot yet. Reaching the tree alcove where we went to be alone, I sat down to wait.

As I stared out into the darkness, the sound of waves crashing in the distance, I pondered what Brianna wanted to tell me. My mind ran through thousands of different scenarios as time passed with no sign of her. Concern washing over me, I checked my watch and saw that it was nearly nine o’clock.

Raising myself off the sand, I dusted my pants and headed back to the house, wondering if she stood me up because she was still angry with me about what happened earlier this week. Or maybe there was something more.

Opening the door to my house, I was relieved to see that most of the guests had left over the past hour. “Hey, Aunt Terryn. Has anyone called?”

She shook her head. “No. The phone hasn’t rung all day. Why?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “I had plans to meet Brianna at the beach and she never showed up.”

“Her mother and step-father were supposed to stop by today and they never did, either. But I think she left the church with her father.”

“Her father? I didn’t think she stayed with him much.”

“Neither did I. Word is, Mr. Grayson and Mr. Monroe got into a bit of an argument in the church parking lot when she was getting into the car with her mother. Mr. Monroe grabbed her out of the car and threw her into his. He certainly has a bit of a temper.”

“I gotta go, Aunt Terryn.”

“Where are you going, Cam?”

“I just… I have to go.”

I dashed out of my house and raced away from the shore and inland several miles, toward her father’s home. Pulling in front of the large plantation-style house, I bolted out of my Jeep when I saw two ambulances in the driveway.

“Brianna!” I yelled, heading for the door just as I observed paramedics rushing out of the living room with a stretcher. “Is she okay?” I asked as they pumped air into her lungs.

“No. We’ve got to get her to the hospital before we lose her again.”

“Again?” I quivered, stepping back to allow them to load her into the ambulance. My eyes settled on a nasty bruise and a welt on her head, blood tricking down her pale face.

“Yeah. Looks like she shot the sick prick before she tried to off herself with all those pills. He probably won’t make it.” He gestured toward the doorway and I saw another stretcher being rolled from the house and into the second ambulance.

Mr. Grayson followed close behind, his eyes frantic. “Cam! It’s awful. I just don’t… I never should have allowed her to come over here.”

“Where are they taking her?” I asked, confused.
 

“To Memorial General.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll give you a ride.”

I glanced down, spying his wedding band. “No. I’ll take my own car.”

I
SAT
IN
THE
emergency room waiting area for hours, my mind racing and trying to replay everything in my head, looking for a clue. I prayed that when the doctor came out, he would have good news. Mama arrived with Doug as soon as she heard, as did Aunt Terryn and Uncle Graham. It seemed the only times we saw each other lately was during tragic events. I hated that.

“Mr. and Mrs. Grayson,” an authoritative voice said sometime after midnight.

We all raised our heads to see a man in hospital scrubs standing there. “I’m Dr. Avery. Your daughter is stable enough to see you now.”

“What happened?!” I shouted. “Is she okay?”

Her mother glared at me. “Cameron, we’ll go see her first. She’s our daughter.”

“No. She’s
your
daughter. Not
his
,” I fumed.

“Cameron, baby,” Mama said, placing her hand on my arm. “You can go see her once they come out. That way, you’ll have some privacy with her.” She raised her eyebrows at me and I knew what she was saying.

I nodded and turned my attention back to Mr. and Mrs. Grayson. “I apologize. I’m just tired and emotionally drained. Please excuse my behavior.”

A forgiving smile crossed Mr. Grayson’s face. “Of course, Cameron. It’s completely understandable.” He excused himself and followed the doctor down the hallway, his arm around Brianna’s mother’s shoulders.

After an excruciatingly long time, they emerged into the waiting room where we were all eager to hear what they had to say.

“She’s going to be okay,” Mr. Grayson said rather stoically. “They were able to pump her stomach. They estimated that she swallowed a few oxy pills leftover from a recent back injury, as well as several dozen acetaminophen pills. She’s lucky I got there when I did.”

“Why were you there?” I asked.

He glowered at me, obviously irritated and perhaps unsettled by my questions. “As I’ve told the police, Brianna forgot her purse at the church and I brought it to her just in case she needed it.” He faced everyone else. “She’s resting at the moment. We appreciate all of your concern, but please come back to see her tomorrow. She’s had a trying day.”

They both stood there as if waiting for us to leave.

I remained unmoving, not wanting to leave that dismal place without seeing Brianna’s chest rise and fall. I needed to know that she was still breathing.

Mama nudged me. “Come on, baby.” She leaned into me. “At least make everyone think you’re leaving. Okay?”

“Okay.” I reluctantly walked with Mama out of the emergency room waiting area, leading her toward my Jeep. Doug followed us.

“What’s going on? Do you think…?” he asked once he was certain no one could overhear.

I shook my head. “I don’t know what to think, but Brianna wanted me to meet her at the beach. She never showed up. When I got to her house, there were two ambulances. Her father was shot and she was, apparently, unconscious from a pill overdose. But there was a bruise on her head as if it had been slammed against a hard surface. I don’t know. Maybe she fell, but something is off.”

“Do you think Mr. Monroe…? And that’s why Marley…?”

“I have no idea what to think, but I know that the one person with answers is lying in a hospital bed right now. And I’m going to sit by her side until she can give me those answers.”

Mr. Grayson drove past us in his Mercedes and I opened the door to my car as if I was about to get in. Mama leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Get going then, Cameron. We’ll come to check on you in the morning.”

I threw Doug the keys and dashed back into the emergency room, thankful when the nurse at the registration desk gave me Brianna’s room number and allowed me to go see her. Running through the hallways, I found her room and pushed the door open, my heart dropping when I saw how pale and lifeless she looked, her head bandaged, monitors measuring her vital signs.

Sitting down in the chair beside the bed, I grabbed her cold hand in mine.

“Cam?” she whispered.

“I’m here, baby.” I caressed her skin.

“I knew you’d find me.”

“Shhhh… Get some rest. I’ll stay by your side all night. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good. Then he won’t come back to finish the job.”

My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach, wondering what her words could imply.

~~~~~~~~~~~

T
HE
SOUND
OF
A
soft giggle cut through my dreamless sleep. I startled awake, confused, before my eyes settled on Brianna’s weak, yet smiling face as she lay in the hospital bed.

“You were snoring. And drooling.”

I adjusted myself in the chair and wiped my face. “Sorry. I’m sure that’s a big turn-on.”

“You being yourself around me? Hell, yeah, it is.”

I leaned over the bed and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“How’s my dad?” she asked, her eyes becoming impassioned and overflowing with unease.

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

A look of resignation washed over her face, her chin trembling. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

I nodded slightly and she burst into tears. I wrapped my arms around her and soothed her sobs. Long moments passed while she attempted to get her crying under control, my brain still on overdrive about what the hell was going on.

“That bastard’s had it out for him for as long as I can remember.”

I pulled back and narrowed my gaze at her. “What were you going to tell me yesterday at the beach? It was that your dad hurt you, isn’t it? And that he hurt Marley, too?” I needed to know that the person who hurt two of the most important people in my life was dead.

Tears welled in her eyes once more. “Not my dad. He would never… It was Bryant.”

I shook my head. “Your step-father? But…” I trailed off as I scanned Brianna’s body, hating that I hadn’t put all the pieces together earlier. “How long?” I quivered.

“Since they got married, really. I think my dad knew there was something off. He noticed bruises, but anytime he tried to confront him about it, Bryant threatened him. I was so scared and I wanted to say something, but he said he would find a way to pin it on my father and not himself. I didn’t want my dad to get into trouble for something he had no idea was really even going on.”

“Gabriella Knox…?”

“That was Bryant, too. He set my dad up. Bryant’s a former judge. Dad was worried that he’d never get a fair trial. How could he protect me from a jail cell? So he agreed to pay off Gabriella. Of course, once that happened, Bryant convinced Mom to have a judge re-evaluate the visitation decree and had that limited. So I was pretty much stuck at home, always wondering when I would hear the sound of my door opening in the middle of the night.”

A lump formed in my throat at the thought of what she had to endure. “I’m so sorry, Bri. I should have seen all the signs.”

“You did,” she replied. “You saw them, but I always yelled at you when you tried to bring it up. I covered it up and kept it from you. If I had said something, he wouldn’t have been able to hurt Marley and then she wouldn’t have…” Her lower lip trembled. “It’s my fault she’s dead. I could have prevented all of it if I had just stopped living in fear, like Marley finally did.”

“We’re not even sure it was him. It could have been something or someone else,” I said dejectedly.

She grabbed the sleeve of her hospital robe and pushed it up, showing me the bruise. “I know you saw something similar on Marley’s body,” she said, referring to the marks with a crisscrossed pattern identical to that of her step-father’s wedding band.

I simply nodded and she lowered her sleeve. “What happened yesterday?”

“It all started after we left the church. I was supposed to go home with my dad. As I was getting into the car with him, Bryant grabbed my arm and tried to yank me out. Right in front of my mother and half the church, he accused my dad of assaulting Marley. I knew he was trying to set my dad up again. They argued and, finally, my dad grabbed me and shoved me into the car. He knew what kind of monster Bryant was, even if he couldn’t prove it. A father just knows, I guess.

“We got to my dad’s house and were sitting there, both of us trying to hide our emotions over losing Marley, when Bryant walked in the house with a gun. He shot Dad in the shoulder, then grabbed me and hauled me into my bedroom.” Her body began shivering from the traumatic experience. “I tried to fight him, but he’s stronger than I am. He threw me against the dresser and I blacked out. The next thing I knew, he had dragged my dad into the room. He had already lost a lot of blood, but he was still conscious. Bryant put a gun to my dad’s head and told me to swallow the pills. My dad begged me not to. Part of me didn’t want to die, but I couldn’t let him kill my dad. Then part of me wondered if Marley had finally found peace, and maybe if I swallowed the pills, I could finally be at peace, too.”

Tears fell down her face once more and I embraced her, hoping that my gesture could make her feel loved.

“Don’t ever think that, Bri,” I begged. “Please. I promise you’ll find peace, but when you’re alive.”

“I lost count of how many pills I took. Next thing I knew, I was waking up here last night with Bryant standing next to me and I freaked. I told the doctor that I didn’t want him here and he kicked him out. My mom, of course, left with him, not caring that her daughter almost died. He’s not allowed to come back here.”

“You just rest. Take some time and decide what you want to do about making a statement.”

“I already know what I want to do. I’m done remaining silent. I’m sure the police are going to want to know what happened. And when they come and ask, I plan on giving them a
true
story that they’ll never forget.”