The Way Home (19 page)

“I'm not sure, Baby.”

“He helped me. He saved me. If... if he hadn't shot Rick....”

“I know. Don't worry about him. Deacon isn't going to kill him.” Houdini didn't know why he made the promise, but he did.

“Thank you.”

Chapter Sixteen.

Susan took comfort in reorganizing the treatment room, her mind finally able to go quiet for once and give her a few moments of peace. Most of the time there was so much happening in her head that she just wanted to scream to make it stop.

It was strange to be back in Center City, strange to be alive, and utterly terrifying to realize how much Houdini loved her. Sure, she'd known it before. He'd always been patient with her, never pushed or pressured her. Realizing that she'd taken that for granted had made her feel worse than the things that were happening to her.

Rick was a sadistic son of a bitch, but Michael had been worse. Once Rick rescinded his protection, she'd been fair game. He'd sure loved to play. And now he was in Center City. He was after Vera and there was no doubt in Susan's mind he would do to Vera what he'd done to Jane, poor Jane. The idea of Vera suffering hours of assault after assault had her stomach churning.

Susan got sick for the second time that day in the trash bin near the door. Seconds later there was a knock on the door. “You okay in there, Doc?” Mike spoke from the other side. He and Nate had been left behind with her to keep an eye on the warehouse and on her.

“Yeah, I'm good.”

“Want a soda or something? We got Sprite, or at least I think we do.”

“Sounds good.” She called back, even though she had no desire to drink anything. She doubted her stomach would take it. If she'd known that all of this was going to go down, she wouldn't have eaten pizza and garlic knots with Houdini earlier. It was hard enough to keep it down without taking nerves into account.

Mike returned to the room a moment later with Sprite and a box of crackers. He gave her a look that told her the rumor she was pregnant would be rushing around town, no matter how dire the situation they were in, within hours. There was no point in telling him that she wasn't pregnant. She couldn't be pregnant. Fate couldn't be that cruel.

The time that she'd been held by Rick had seemed unending, days blended into nights and there was no real concept of time. There was only the feeling of being helpless, tied down like an animal and completely at the mercy of Michael and Rick. There were times when she was sure she was going to die just as Jane had. There were times when she wished for it, wished for any end to her own personal hell on Earth. At some point she'd learned how to simply switch herself off, her body present but her mind far away. In those moments she let herself think of Houdini, imagine the type of life that they could have had.

It had never occurred to her that she'd survive and that they could truly have the life that she'd pictured. It was starting to dawn on her now that they could, if not for her. It was always her holding them back, just like it had been because of her that they'd wasted so much time when they could have been together. All it would take was her letting go of what happened to her, as if that were an easy task.

If she was being really honest with herself, Fire's arrival had scared her. At first she'd thought he was there to hurt her, to hurt them all, which was terrifying enough, but the fact that he was there to help was even scarier. He'd obviously been there, he obviously knew what had happened to her and she couldn't be sure that he'd keep it a secret. It needed to stay secret.

Just as Houdini hadn't wanted her to look at him with pity after he told her of his past, she didn't want him looking at her that way because of what happened. Pity was the best that she could hope for if he knew. It was more likely that he'd be disgusted by what had happened to her. Either way, she couldn't risk it. She wouldn't risk it. Houdini could not know what she'd endured.

It was time to push it back down, shove it in the small space in her mind where she wouldn't think of it, where she couldn't think of it. Even tucked deep down there, it would reemerge, most often late at night when she should be sleeping. Susan would stay in bed, stay still and silent as events replayed over and over in her mind. It brought both comfort and pain to know that Houdini was sleeping only a few feet away, uncomfortable in a chair nearly too small for his large size. Comfort because she knew that no one was actually going to be able to hurt her, and pain because she couldn't just bring herself to tell him he could sleep with her. She was too scared that he'd touch her and she'd flinch.

Just her thoughts were enough to exhaust her, and Susan wanted nothing more than to just return to the apartment, crawl into the bed and stay there. It was the easy way out, even if she'd never forgive herself for it; she needed to be present for whatever happened, because it was what was right.

No sooner had she'd made the decision than was she forced to act, as the sound of shots cut through the otherwise quiet night. Mike shouted for her to stay in the room, keep the door locked but there was no way in hell that was going to happen. Instead Susan walked over to the closet, pulled out the bag where Houdini kept their personal weapons. In under a minute she was as armed and ready as she could possibly be.

The shots had been multiple and rapid at first; they were now more sporadic. If she had to guess, whoever was still alive had taken cover. She could only hope that there would be more of her guys than the other guys still standing. Cautiously Susan opened the door. Stealth wasn't her strong suit, and she listened long and hard before letting it open all the way. She crouched down, moved forward and almost immediately caught sight of Nate.

He motioned for her to come over to where he was crouched behind several pallets of wood and other materials for the rooms that were being added on. “There's only two left now but Mike's down. Please tell me that you can shoot that thing and it's not just for show.”

“I'm not a commando, but I know how to shoot.”

“Ever shoot a person before?”

“No.” Susan hissed the word, crouched down lower as a bullet hissed by them too closely for her comfort. “You really want to talk now?”

“I want to kill them. I don't want to have to worry about watching your ass. You get killed and I'm as good as dead when Houdini finds out. If you're even a little sure that you can't handle your shit, stay here.” With that Nate rose from his crouch, fired off several rounds. A man screamed, and he smirked in response. “Now, there's one left.”

He looked so proud of himself that Susan couldn't help but smile. The smile turned into a scream a second later, as a shot hit Nate in the neck. He fell to the ground, blood gushing, and she knew that there was nothing she could do for him. She knelt down next to him anyway, finding his hand through all the blood and holding it.

Susan wanted to say something to comfort him, but there was no time to think of anything because he was gone. Silence fell heavy around her. Susan's hands shook, her body trembled and her stomach turned slowly. But she wouldn't be sick, she couldn't be. So she forced it down, breathed in and out to calm herself. They'd come back to Nate, if they were whole, and give him the send off that he deserved, but right now she needed to find Mike and then somehow manage to kill whoever was left out there.

Mike was easy enough to find. He was unconscious, but his pulse was strong and his breathing sounded good. Susan dug through his pockets until she found his burner phone and used it to call Houdini's burner. “What's happening there, Mike?”

“It's not Mike. He's out for the count. Nate's dead and there's one shooter left here.” Susan whispered the words into the phone, all too aware that whoever was still out there could be listening and figuring out her location from the sound of her voice.

“Go lock yourself in the apartment, Susan. Lock yourself in and wait.” Houdini shouted the words.

“I can't do that. I'm not leaving Mike here to get put down like a rabid dog if the shooter comes inside. Maybe Nate killing all his friends scared him away, but if it didn't, if he's still here I can take him.”

“Susan, don't...”

She cut his words off by ending the call as she heard the sound of footsteps on the concrete floor of the warehouse. A phone rang, and it came from the wrong direction to be Nate's phone and she'd been sure to silence Mike's.

“Yeah,” a male voice echoed through the building. “I'm there now. They had two guys watching the good doctor.” He paused. “No sign of her. She probably ran. Word around town is she came back wrong.” The man laughed and Susan knew who he was. Will Brothers, former Sheriff and arch nemesis of Deacon and The Vikings. “Probably rocking back and forth in a fetal position somewhere. She's no threat. You get your girl? Wait, you got them both?” Susan's heart began to beat faster. He had to be talking to Michael, which meant that he was talking about Vera. “I'll meet you at my place.”

Susan remained where she was. She knew where Will's place was, it was on a dead end street with woods behind it about three miles from the warehouse. If Michael truly did have Vera and Adelaide, there was no time to waste, because she knew just what he was capable of. Once she was sure that Will had left, she took out the phone and dialed Houdini.

“Don't ever hang up on me again.”

“Nice way to answer the phone,” Susan reminded herself to stay on track. “Listen, Michael has Vera and Adelaide and they're headed to Will Brothers' house. Don't ask questions. Just go. I need to stay here and get Mike stable. I think it's a through-and-through, but I need more light.”

“And you're going to need help moving him,” Houdini replied. “Give me five minutes and I'll be there.”

“You should go with them. We don't know what to expect. We'll be okay here.”

“Five minutes, Susan.” He replied before he ended the call. Susan wasn't exactly surprised; she knew the issues that Houdini had with feeling like he hadn't kept her safe. He wouldn't leave her alone now, she should have never thought that he would. Deacon and the others would go on and he'd come to her.

A feeling of relief flooded through Susan that he was on his way. She hadn't expected it, and it made her pause. In moments like this she could remember what it had been like before she was taken, how happy she was. Every time that she tried to hold onto it, other memories would push into her brain, gentle touches followed by painful blows, soft kisses replaced by bites. It was too much to think about, but there was no pushing it down, there was no forgetting about it. How could she?

By the time that she heard Houdini's bike approaching the relief was gone, replaced by something much darker. Susan forced herself to her feet, ran her hands over her clothes and realized she had blood on her. It was soaked through the legs of her jeans, on her shirt and even on her hands. She'd been touching her face so she could only imagine the way she looked as Houdini came in the door.

“Jesus Christ,” he exclaimed as he moved towards her.

“It's not mine, I'm okay.” Susan gasped as he cupped her face with his hands. Her heart began to pound in her chest, and she felt herself start to shake. “I'm okay.” She tried to speak in a normal tone but it came out a whisper.

“Good.” He leaned in, pressed his lips against her forehead. “Go on and get cleaned up, I'll bring Mike back.”

“Thank you.” Susan wondered if he realized she was thanking him for more than just taking Mike back. “Houdini, I....” No words came out, only the start of a sob. Susan choked it back, pulled back from him and turned to head for the apartment. The tears burned her eyes, and it felt like someone was squeezing her chest, which was a nice distraction from the sudden image of Michael which had popped into her mind.

She locked herself in their small bathroom, scrubbed from head to toe but still felt dirty when she stepped out from under the spray. Susan reached for a towel, realized that she'd forgotten to bring a change of clothes in with her. There was no sound in the apartment, Houdini was most likely in the treatment room with Mike. “For fuck's sake,” she told herself. “Focus and be a doctor.”

Susan was just slipping her feet into a pair of sneakers when she heard Houdini shout and then there was a loud crash. And she knew that something was wrong, very wrong. Susan stumbled but managed to get the sneakers on her feet and her hand on her gun.

The sound of a scuffle filled the air, grunts and groans, the sound of things hitting the floor. What the fuck had happened? Susan opened the door to the apartment slowly and wished that her hand would stop shaking as she caught sight of Houdini and Will locked in battle.

From what she could see, they were both bleeding. Houdini more severely than Will due to a deep gash on his upper arm. Fuck. If it was deep enough, if it had hit the artery, then there really wasn't much time. There certainly wasn't time for her hands to keep shaking. Susan sucked in a deep breath. Neither man had noticed her so far, so she stepped closer, tried to get a clean shot on Will but she couldn't. They were moving too much.

Susan knew the moment that Houdini saw her because his attention wavered from the fight just long enough for Will to land another strike with the knife. Blood colored his white shirt red.. Will raised the knife again, but Houdini moved out of his way. Will was thrown off balance and suddenly Houdini had the upper hand. And just as quickly, Will knocked him to the ground.

Susan moved closer but there was still no way she could risk a shot with the way that her hands were shaking, but she couldn't let the fight go on, so she fired up into the ceiling. The sound startled Will. He looked over, saw her and started to laugh. “And what are you going to do with that? Shaking like a leaf. Only time I've seen you shake more was with Rick. Oh wait, it was Michael. Yeah, that's right. He was...”