Lacy's End (18 page)

Brenda sat up in her hospital bed—or at least she tried to. Even the smallest movement brought pain.

She caught movement from the corner of her eye and looked up to see Dr. Petoro standing in the doorway. She waved him in.

From behind his back, he pulled a wilted bouquet of flowers. He frowned apologetically. “Sorry, it appears the hospital is a little short on volunteers as of late.”

She smirked. “I’ll try and get back on my feet as soon as possible.” She took the flowers from him and grimaced. “Maybe I should switch my post to the gift shop.”

He laughed as he pulled out her chart from the rack at the foot of her bed. He skimmed the nurses’ notes. “Things are looking pretty good.”

“I’m a fast healer.”

“I’ll say. At the rate you’re going we’ll have you home in a couple days.”

Her smile fell at the mention of home. “Has Peter been by?”

“I, um…I need to talk to you about that.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to prepare herself for the coming storm. “I’m listening.”

“I took out a restraining order against your husband.”

Her eyes grew wide with shock. “You didn’t!”

“I had no choice.” The look of fright on her face made his heart ache. “It was the only way I could keep him away from you. I couldn’t risk him taking you from the hospital again, or jeopardize the safety of any of the other patients.”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. He gets so much more violent when he’s angry.” She started to rise from the bed, pushing the covers back and swinging her legs to the floor. A wave of pain hit her, and she cried out.

Allen rushed to her side. He picked her up, laid her gently back in bed. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

“I need to get home,” she managed to say, straining to get the words out. “I need to fix this before it’s too late.”

“You need to get well.”

“But Lacy.”

“Lacy’s just fine. She’s back in school and staying with Angela Martin.”

“I know. That’s what set off Peter.”

“Peter can’t hurt you in here.”

She let out a short laugh. “Peter has many ways he can hurt me, starting with his goon platoon.”

He laughed at her description of the insignificant police force.

“And,” she added, “don’t forget the mayor. He’s used him to build a bulwark around himself.”

“You’ll be surprised to hear he’s starting to lose a few followers. Not even the mayor can ignore the charges against him.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

“The mayor took his badge and his gun.”

Brenda paled, shook her head. “Oh, no! He can’t do that. Peter will never survive without that badge.”

A memory flashed through her head. Peter was twenty-five. She was eighteen. Peter’s best friend, Anson Parker, had put in a good word for him with the then sheriff, and he had charmed his way into the department. There was an induction ceremony, and she had sat rigidly beside her father, holding Lacy. When the ceremony was over, he played the family man and put a protective arm around her and Lacy, smiling at all the right times. On the way to the car he said, “I will shoot anyone who tries to take this gun or badge from me.” She knew he wasn’t joking by his smile.

She tried to get up again. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

He pushed her back down. “No, Brenda. You’re safer here.”

She collapsed on the bed in defeat, fear driving her tears. “How am I going to go home after this?”

“We’ll find a safe place for you. I promise.”

She shook her head again. “Not without endangering others.”

He was growing angry and tried hard not to direct it at her. “Your husband is not indestructible.”

She looked him in the eye. “I’ve known Peter for nearly two decades. Nobody ever stands up to him.”

He stared into her eyes and saw tenderness push aside the anger that had been there. “That changes now,” he said.

Just then the door burst open, and Lacy flew through the doorway. “You’re awake,” she cried gleefully.

Brenda looked one last time at Allen and whispered, “Be careful.” Then she held her arms open, and Lacy ran to her. “Hey, baby. How was school?”

Lacy shook her head as she did an eye roll. “Well, you’re dead, and I live in an orphanage.” Lacy laughed at the stricken look on her mother’s face. “The latest on Twitter,” she explained.

“Twitter?” her mother questioned.

“Electronic gossip,” Allen supplied.

Lacy grinned. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“Did you set them straight?” Brenda asked.

“Of course not.” She kissed her mother’s cheek. “Gossip is way more fun.” Brenda paled. “Just kidding; I did. Sorry, Mom…but I have to run. I have a shift in a half-hour. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea? What if your father comes?” Lacy and Allen exchanged a quick glance. Brenda shifted her gaze between them. “What aren’t you two telling me?”

Lacy blushed and looked down at the floor. “He tried to break into Angela’s apartment last night. Dr. Petoro hired one of the off-duty security guards to follow me around.”

Brenda’s eyes misted over as she looked at Allen. He was unsure how to read her expression. One thing he had come to know about Brenda Waldrip was that she was a proud woman. Were the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes tears of gratitude, or tears of shame?

“Thank you,” she said, her voice so low he barely heard her.

Lacy flashed a brilliant smile—one that Brenda hadn’t seen on her daughter’s face in a while. “Isn’t he the best?”

She walked to the door. When her hand hit the knob, she turned. On impulse, she ran back to Allen and threw her arms around him. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Taken off-guard, he didn’t know what to do at first. Then his arms encircled the young girl. He marveled at how good it felt to hold her. He looked over her head at her mother’s grateful smile. “You’re welcome, Lacy. Now scoot off to work before you get fired.”

She laughed and dashed from the room.

When she had gone, Brenda turned her eyes toward him. “I can’t let you do this. That guard must be costing you a fortune.”

“It’s not as much as you might think. Just for a day or two, to make sure Peter knows we’re serious.” He grinned and added, “Besides, don’t you know, I’m a doctor. I’m loaded.”

She chuckled, which caused her sides to hurt. She grabbed them. “Please stop,” she said.

“Are you okay?” he asked. His eyes grew wary with concern. He sat down on the edge of her bed. She moved over slightly, making room for him. “I won’t let you go through this alone,” he said. “I’m here to the end.”

He looked down at her. He wondered what the look was he saw there. He wanted to kiss her, but he wouldn’t. She was at a vulnerable time in her life. He would not take advantage of that.

She looked up at him. She wondered if it was pity or disgust she saw in his expression. She wished he would kiss her, but she knew he wouldn’t. What would he want with a pathetic weakling like her?

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Then Allen’s pager went off. He jumped from the bed as if caught in an immoral act. They both laughed. He looked at the pager, then at her. “Duty calls.”

She watched him slip silently out the door. She slid down beneath the covers, a slow smile coming to her face as she wrapped the blankets tightly around her. It had been a long while since she had slept peacefully, but she knew tonight was to be an exception. Her last conscious thought as she drifted into dreamland was of Allen Petoro, her savior.

Brenda stood back from the cabinet and eyed her handiwork. A satisfied smile spread across her face when envisioning Angela’s delight over the cleanliness of her now well-organized cupboard. She was still quite sore from the broken ribs, but overall, she felt pretty good.

She looked at the clock. “Only twelve,” she said. She still had another three hours to go before Lacy got home. She frowned, looked around the apartment and sighed. She had been released from the hospital only yesterday, but she was already growing bored.

Peter had gotten his badge back. She had known he would, but so far, he had not shown any interest in either hers or Lacy’s activities. He wasn’t fooling her, though. She knew Peter well, and she knew he was a ticking time bomb.

She had so many things for which to be grateful to Charlie. She would never forget what he’d attempted to do for her. She was only sorry to see that the rest of the squad hadn’t reacted as kindly toward her. It seemed nobody would take her side against their sheriff. She’d heard Charlie had lodged a complaint with the mayor. She also heard they might transfer him to Las Vegas—the city council’s way of dealing with complaints. After all, it wasn’t easy to find qualified people to run for sheriff in their town. A transfer wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for his career.

She was also grateful to Angela for letting her stay here, but she didn’t want to overstay her welcome. She needed to find a job, so she could get an apartment for Lacy and herself. She would talk to Allen about it when he stopped by on his way home from work.

Lacy had her job at the diner and had offered money on several occasions, but Brenda always refused. That money was for college. She hadn’t mentioned it, though, when Lacy showed up one afternoon with new shoes. If she just didn’t acknowledge where the money to buy them came from she wouldn’t feel as guilty.

She sank into a chair and allowed her head to drop back. Weary from the day’s activities, she began to drift off to sleep. Moments later she was limp with sleep, her mind cleared of all thoughts. She started to dream. Visions of Peter in various stages of their relationship filled her mind. Their courtship had been clumsy at best. His idea of courtship was a tweak to her breast and a quick slap on her rear. She hadn’t known any better. Her father had been the only example she had to go by, and beer and pizza were on the top of his list. As her mind wandered in its dreamy state, Allen’s face replaced Peter’s image, and that brought a smile to her sleeping face.

In her dream, Allen brought her flowers. She was on the children’s ward dressed as the Easter Bunny. She carried a large basket filled with colored, candy-filled eggs. She was doing a little bunny dance, when suddenly the children began to laugh hysterically, pointing behind her back. She turned and saw Allen mimicking her. She put her hands on her hips, tapped her right foot, and cocked her head sideways. Allen bowed, produced a large bouquet of mixed flowers, and gave them to her. She pressed her hand against her chest, turned to the children, and shrugged her shoulders as she turned her palms up in a questioning gesture.

“Take them,” they all shouted.

She did, and all the children applauded. Then she and Allen started bunny hopping around the room.

A loud banging noise startled her from her sleep. She jumped from the chair, her heart beating wildly.

“Who’s there?” she called. There was no response, so she tried again. “Who’s there?”

She walked to the front door and looked through the peephole. The corridor was empty. She walked to the window and peered out, holding the drapes open just enough so she could see outside, but nobody could see inside. An examination of the other window in the room revealed the same results.

She let the drapes fall back, assuming it was the trick of sleep that had made the noise. She turned around and began to walk to the kitchen, intent on making some tea. It was time to make a concrete decision about her and Lacy’s future, and she needed tea to give her the stamina.

She was halfway across the room when the door burst open, and Peter stood there, the doorway outlining his angry stance. She screamed, ran as fast as she could to the other room, any room with a lock on it. He caught her by the hair, dragging her back toward him. She screamed again, instinctively raising her hand to grab her hair from his grasp. He pulled harder, causing her neck to whiplash so far backward that her head nearly touched her shoulder.

“Peter, please!” she cried as if he hadn’t realized he was hurting her.

“Bitch,” he spat. “Who do you think you are keeping what’s mine away from me. Get your scrawny ass and that of our worthless daughter home today or so help me, you won’t know what hit you.”

He threw her to the ground and was on top of her before she could even catch her breath. He covered her mouth with his. She tasted the vile whiskey and knew he had come straight from the bar. She fought against the bile that rose in her throat.

“Please,” she tried again as her eyes misted with tears she willed not to come. She did not want Peter to think she was too weak to fight.

He mashed his mouth against hers even harder, grinding their teeth together, as his hand came down and began yanking her shirt from her waistband, ripping the buttons away.

“No, Peter…” She started to cry, feeling helpless against the enraged man. “Please don’t, Peter.”

Suddenly he flew off her, his back and shoulders colliding with the wall. She lay there gasping for air, her body exposed. She saw Allen standing over them, anger reddening his face. “Get up,” he shouted. When Peter didn’t comply, he picked him up by the back of his shirt collar. “What’s the matter, not so tough when you’re picking on someone a little closer to your size?”

Peter stood, bent over as if waiting for a huddle with the football team. He rested his palms on his thigh, huffing as he fought to regain his breath. “Mind your own house, Doc,” he managed to wheeze. “My wife and daughter are none of your concern.”

“And they’re not your punching bags, either.”

Brenda struggled to her feet, reaching toward Allen. “Stop!” she pleaded. “Please don’t antagonize him.”

Allen stared at her with a mixture of disbelief and compassion. He took a tentative step toward her, all the while watching Peter out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t have to take this from him.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. She didn’t even bother wiping it away. The tears had become such a regular part of her life that she hardly noticed them anymore. She turned to Peter. “Please go,” she begged.

Peter, having regained his breath, straightened his uniform. “You’ll be home when I get home?”

She nodded.

Peter walked toward the door. As he reached it, he turned back. “And Lacy, too?”

She shook her head. “No, not Lacy. She’s just a child, Peter. I’ll not let you hurt her anymore.”

He walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Allen rushed to her side, placing his hands on her shoulders. “You can’t be serious, Brenda. You can’t return to him.”

“I have no choice,” she protested. “He’ll just be back again and again until he gets his own way. You saw his strength. I’m no match for him.”

“You have the law on your side.”

“
He
has the law on
his
side!” she screamed, her words punctuating the air and then bouncing back to echo in her ears. “You know what happened when Charlie tried to interfere.”

“But the attorney general—”

“Isn’t going to do anything,” she finished. “And even if he does, it will be too late to save me.”

His voice grew quiet, and his heart filled with love as he looked deep into her eyes. “You have me,” he said.

A tear slipped down her cheek as she choked back a sob, trying to smile. “Not if we’re both dead.” She backed away from him. “I have to go.”

He shook his head. “No, Brenda. Think of Lacy,” he pleaded, feeling a stab of guilt for using her own daughter against her.

She rushed forward, a burst of anger pouring from her as she clenched her teeth, pointed an accusing finger at him. “Don’t you dare use Lacy against me. I’m doing this for her.”

A sudden inspiration flew to his mind, and in his mind’s eye, he saw a smiling, happy Brenda. “Give me an afternoon—just one half-day to show you another world.”

She hesitated, wanting with all her might to do as he asked but afraid of what Peter might do to her if she disobeyed. “I can’t,” she said. She bent her head slightly, pleading understanding with her eyes.

“You can,” he said. He held up one finger. “Just one half-day.”

She chewed her lower lip, weighing her options. She had always been a no-frills, down-to-earth girl—mostly out of necessity, but also because she didn’t believe in frivolous desires of the heart. Her clothes were tidy and clean—carefully tailored so as not to show off her womanly curves, her hair worn long to save on styling. She wore no makeup, except when she was covering up bruises. It didn’t make sense that Dr. Allen Petoro would have any interest in her, other than as the Good Samaritan he presented to her. So why then, did she see an expression of love in his eyes? Was she mistaken? Was that look compassion, or worse—merely pity?

“Please,” he begged again, noting her hesitation.

Finally, she nodded. “One half-day. That’s it. I must be home by five o’clock.”

“Do you lose a glass slipper and does your carriage turn into a pumpkin?”

She grinned at his wry attempt at humor. “And my gown shall turn to rags.”

He laughed, hugged her to him as he said, “You would be beautiful in them.”

She tried a smile. “Thank you.”

He grabbed her hand, pulling her to the door like a teenager. She laughed. Peter had never made her feel so alive.
I’ll savor it for just awhile,
she thought
, until the clock rings the magic hour, and it’s back to the cinders for me.
She tried to push away the thought, working hard to enjoy what lay ahead of her.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked as she buckled her seatbelt and watched him climb in beside her.

He leaned over. “I told you, I’m going to show you what else is out there.”

They started with lunch. It was not the usual grubby diner she was used to, where the waitresses openly flirted with Peter, even though she was sitting right there. It was a real restaurant with table linens and water with lemon slices, served in real glasses, instead of the stained plastic tumblers at the diner.

Allen pulled out her chair, pushing it in as she sat down. Peter had never done that. Once, when they had gone out of town to attend her mother-in-law’s funeral, they had eaten in a restaurant with the rest of the family. Peter’s brother, Henry, and his brother-in-law, Matt, had both helped their wives sit. Brenda had stood, waiting, not sure what she should do exactly. If she sat too soon, Peter might get angry with her for making him look like a fool in front of his family. On the other hand, if she stood too long, he might accuse her of making him look like the fool for not seating his wife. It was clearly a dilemma for her. Her brother-in-law took the decision out of her hands when, after helping his wife into her seat, he came behind her and held her chair for her. She blushed, both with embarrassment and with fear of Peter’s reaction. Peter had said nothing and never mentioned the incident. Inwardly, she was delighted at the attention.

“What shall we have?” Allen asked.

“I don’t care,” she said. “It all looks so good.” She perused the menu, finally saying, “You order for both of us. I’m no good at this kind of thing.”

“All right,” he said.

He ordered them both lasagna, and she thought that was a good choice.

When their server had placed plates of fresh salad down in front of them, Brenda suddenly realized how hungry she was. She hadn’t eaten the night before or that morning. She began devouring the salad, and then laughed as Allen grinned at her.

“I’m, sorry. I’m starving,” she said, blushing.

“It’s okay. I’m enjoying watching you eat. Tell me about you,” he said, when she began to slow down.

She swallowed and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “I’m afraid there’s not much to tell. My mother died when I was a little girl, wavering on puberty, on the cusp of adolescence. My father took care of me to the best of his ability. I got into the usual adolescent scrapes—did my share of rebelling, that sort of thing. Dad treated me more like a servant than a daughter, but I accepted it.” She sighed and her eyes misted over. She took a deep breath, blinking several times, forcing back the tears. “When I met Peter, I thought he would be my way out of that stupid trailer. It didn’t happen, though. He hit it off so well with my dad that it sealed my fate. There was only one thing Peter Waldrip wanted from me, and my father was willing to look the other way while I gave it to him.”

He touched her hand with his, trying to offer support. When she didn’t protest or pull away, he left it there. She picked up her water glass and took a big swallow. “I can’t believe this is how my life ended up. My mother wanted such big things for me.”

“Did your dad ever beat you?”

She shook her head. “No, Dad was heavy on discipline but never beating. My mother…” but she broke off, shaking her head.