Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, Etta was disoriented when she woke.
At first, she thought the fire had been a nightmare, and waking up in the hospital was simply a continuation of the dream.
But this felt too real— the scratchy hospital gown, the bright lights overhead. They blinked and flickered, making a buzzing noise. She didn’t have fluorescent bulbs in her home.
And then it hit her.
None of it had been a dream. She’d nearly died.
Startled, she shot up in bed and winced as her arm throbbed. It gave off heat like someone had dipped it into hot water, but the skin didn’t hurt exactly. Etta figured it was a terrible sign. What if the fire had charred her nerve endings?
Thick gauze encased her forearm, extending from her wrist up to the elbow. She shivered, cold all of a sudden and her teeth clacked together. Etta also felt like she’d been dropped into a glass of ice water as if two different temperatures were warring within her body.
“You’re awake.”
She whipped around to see Justice seated beside her bed. After she’d spoken with Frost, he’d offered to stay with her, and Etta had taken him up on it. Etta was wary of being alone, after everything that had happened.
“How long was I out?”
“Too long. Hours.” He knuckled one eye, wiping the sleep from it. “I think you were exhausted.”
“Have you been there this whole time?”
“Of course.” Justice smiled. “Where else would I be?”
“Thanks for stayin’.” Etta hadn’t seen her arm since the doctor had wrapped it in gauze. She picked at the dressing, to assess the injury.
“Don’t. The doctors are worried about infection.”
Reluctantly, Etta left it alone. “What’s the damage like? Did you see it?”
“Yeah, when they did a dressin’ change in the middle of the night. You were so drained, you didn’t even wake up.”
“And?”
His pause was suspiciously long.
“It’ll be fine. Oh, and they took you off oxygen last night. You had a minor case of smoke inhalation so your lungs will be fine.”
Etta was grateful she’d remembered to cover her nose and mouth, but she was still worried about her arm.
“Yes, but how does it look?”
Justice hesitated. “I’ve seen worse.”
“Define worse. Are we talkin’ Freddy Krueger?”
Justice didn’t answer right away.
And then she remembered her place. The last time she’d seen it, the house was engulfed in flames. Her brain pinged all over the place, and it was hard to concentrate. So many things needed her attention.
“Wait. Have you seen my house?”
He smoothed the blankets and didn’t meet her eyes. “No, but Pretty Boy drove by, and said there’s nothin’ left but ash.”
“Great. I can add being homeless to my list of problems.”
“You’re not homeless. You can stay with me if you like.”
“Are you sure?” Etta briefly considered calling Bonnie, but given the current FBI situation, she didn’t want any more trouble.
“I’m positive.” He grinned.
“Thanks.” Some of the tension leaked from her body. At least Etta had a roof over her head.
A burble of hysterical laughter escaped her lips. It echoed in the room, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
His brow creased. “How are you holdin’ up?”
“Fine, although I seriously doubt I’m gettin’ my cleaning deposit back.” She laughed again, and there was an edge of desperation in it.
Etta didn’t know if she was taking this well, or still in shock.
Somehow losing all of her stuff didn’t seem as important as nearly dying. After getting the insurance money, she’d buy new clothes, and furniture, and whatever else she needed. It could be replaced, except for the pictures and keepsakes, but all in all, she’d gotten off cheap.
This time.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” Etta called.
A young brunette wearing a white lab coat walked in. She wore a lanyard around her neck, with a plastic badge, which read Dr. Bennett. She’d come by earlier last evening, but Etta hardly remembered the conversation. Everything was a bit hazy.
“Hello, I’m here to debried your wounds.”
“Which is…?”
“That’s doctor talk for rippin’ a layer of your skin off.” A middle-aged nurse came in behind her, wheeling a cartful of supplies.
Etta instinctively held her arm to her chest. Justice wrapped an arm around her.
“Nurse Larson, a little sensitivity, please.”
The nurse shrugged. “Just tellin’ it like it is.” She turned to Justice. “If you could step outside please, we’ll get started. This first session won’t take too long.”
Justice raised a brow in question, and she nodded. He kissed her forehead.
“I’m gonna rustle up some decent coffee, and I’ll be right back.” And then he left.
Etta didn’t know what she’d do without him.
“Your husband loves you very much.” The nurse grasped Etta’s elbow and began unwrapping her arm.
“Oh, he’s not my husband.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” Nurse Larson winked. “The girls at the desk said he didn’t leave your side all night. Fiancé then?”
“Something like that.” Despite herself, Etta blushed. With all of the chaos, she hadn’t spoken with Justice about it.
“Ready to get started?” Dr. Bennett asked.
Nope, not even close.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Steeling herself, Etta inspected the wound as it was revealed. Her arm was red and raw. It looked like hamburger. Her throat ached, and she swallowed hard, and not just from the smoke inhalation.
The nurse slid a needle into her forearm, and she didn’t even feel the prick. Evidently, the alarm showed on her face, because the doctor offered her a kindly smile.
“The nerve endings have been burned away, but they usually grow back. I gave you a local anesthetic, so this shouldn’t hurt, in case you have any residual sensation. I should warn you, this process will get more painful. As we scrape away layers, your nerve endings will be exposed.”
Etta closed her eyes, struggling to cope with the enormity of the situation.
“Tell me if you feel this.” She picked up a scalpel and scraped the burned flesh, which fell away like a snake shedding its skin. The sight was unnerving, like the arm no longer belonged to her.
“You might want to look away. Most patients find this process disturbing to watch.”
Talk about an understatement.
Etta stared at the wall, while they skinned the rest of her arm. At least this was one torture session where she wouldn’t be in pain.
***
The next evening, Frost dropped by the hospital to give her some bad news, while Justice was speaking with the nurse about her follow-up care. She had a series of appointments at the burn unit for wound treatments.
“I can’t find Grady anywhere. We checked his place and found it empty. Then we searched his known hideouts, and came up dry.” His face was grim, as stood beside her bed.
After trying to barbecue her, Grady left town, and it looked like he was going to get away with it.
“What about his parole officer? Did he have any leads?”
“No, but Grady missed the last check-in, which means he violated his parole.”
“So he’s a fugitive?” she asked.
“If they find Grady, they’ll take him back to prison, regardless of whether we can prove he tried to kill you.”
That was some comfort, at least, but the punishment no longer fit the crime.
“Is there any evidence?”
He gave a sharp nod. “The fire chief found proof of accelerants used at the scene.”
“So he really did it.” Not that Etta should be surprised.
“Are there any other places he might go?”
Etta thought about it.
When he’d been a child, Grady had attended a court-ordered anger management camp after torching a dugout. He’d raved about the state park they’d stayed in. From Grady’s perspective, it had been fun. Probably because he spent his evenings by the campfire with a bunch of other little hooligans. As an adult, he’d stayed there several times with friends, and it was the perfect place to hide out.
The question is, should she tell the police? Or Justice? Before Grady had tried to burn her alive, she would’ve told Frost straight away.
And now…? Etta had second thoughts.
“Etta?” he prompted.
She shook her head. “I can’t think of any place else.”
His eyes widened. “Are you positive?”
“Absolutely.”
So, Etta kept her peace, until she made up her mind.
***
On the way to Justice’s place, he stopped at a dollar store, so she could grab a pair of sweatpants and T-shirt, to hold her over for the night. Etta wasn’t up to a full-blown shopping trip just yet. While there, Etta grabbed essentials, like a toothbrush, toothpaste, and other hygiene products. She also picked up a pad of paper and pens, to make some lists. If she created action items, it would at least give her the illusion of control.
They had a laid-back day. Justice made steaks and baked potatoes for them in the oven, and they’d watched some television.
But later on in the night, Etta woke up with a scream.
She was ringing with sweat, disoriented, and she smelled smoke. Etta kicked the covers off the bed and ran her hands up and down her arms, reassuring herself that they weren’t on fire.
Justice came running in the front door. “What happened?” He’d been outside at the campfire.
“I’m fine. I just woke up and smelled something burnin’, and I panicked for a second.”
I’m losing it.
“God, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think.” Justice dashed back outside and threw a bucket of water on the fire, which hissed and sputtered. He came back in moments later. “Check. No more fires.”
“I sound like a basket case, freakin’ out over nothin’.” She ran a hand through her damp hair.
Justice sat on the end of the bed. “No, you’re somebody who’s been through a lot. I get it. You don’t do fire, and I don’t do blood.”
Etta laughed hoarsely. “So we’re both screwed up.”
“Exactly.” His eyes twinkled with rye amusement. “I’m pretty sure I got you beat when it comes to crazy.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t bet money on it.”
Etta closed her eyes, and took deep calming breaths, trying to center herself once more. The trailer had a musty smell, kind of like a basement.
While she appreciated having a roof over her head, conditions in the trailer were less than ideal. Justice had told her he’d been saving up for a house, but he’d never gotten around to buying one.
Somehow she doubted his story.
Maybe buying a new house was symbolic in some way, a sign he’d gotten over his past. In the meantime, he lived in limbo, and now she did, too.
He crawled up the bed and laid down beside her.
Etta sighed. “I wonder if I’ll ever get any closure this time.”
She normally wasn’t this fatalistic, but things seemed bleak. The last time Grady had harmed her, she’d gone through a trial, accused him in open court. The process had been difficult but therapeutic.
“I could get you some.”
Etta sucked in a breath. “Justice…” Please don’t tempt me.
“I mean it. You know him pretty well. Where else would Grady hide? There’s got to be another place he could go.”
“If I told you, what would you do?” More than anything, she wanted to give Justice the information, but did she want a murder on his conscience? Or hers?
“I think you’ve got a pretty good idea.” He cupped her cheek. “Tell me.”
“I don’t want to discuss it.” Not until she knew what to do.
“Fair enough.” He sighed. “What else is on your mind then? You look awfully pensive.”
“Justice, when I told you about the abuse, I wasn’t completely honest.”
“I’m listenin’.”
Etta curled on her side, leaning into Justice’s bigger body. Even thinking about the incident, weighed her down, and made her feel like she’d suddenly gained a hundred pounds.
She had to him everything, get it all out in the open.
“The last night I spent with Grady, I was happy, excited. At first. I’d missed my period, and took one of those home pregnancy tests.” She’d been a fool. As soon as the strip turned pink, Etta should’ve run.
“You were pregnant?” He wrapped his arms around her and tucked her head beneath his chin. Etta listened to the rapid beat of his heart.
“I was, but when I told Grady, he went ballistic. He said I’d screwed up our plans. Meaning his plans, because he never consulted me on anythin’. Grady accused me of gettin’ pregnant deliberately. Like I’d intentionally set out to have a baby. I said accidents happen, and Grady said we needed to get rid of it. It. Not he or she, our baby was an it. So he made me a doctor’s appointment to terminate the pregnancy, and I flat-out refused.”
“You were protectin’ the baby.”
“Yes, it was instinctual.” Etta laid a hand on her flat stomach. “And that’s when I knew we were done. So, I told Grady, it was over. I was having the baby, and I didn’t give a damn what he thought. Grady said he wouldn’t let me do this to him. He’d made the decision, and it was final.”
Justice hugged her tighter. “What happened then?”
“He punched me in the stomach.” Tears blurred her vision. They were hot, burning her eyes, trickling down her cheeks. “I doubled over, but he kept right on hittin’until I was on the floor and he kicked me in the abdomen again and again. I screamed, tried to get away, but Grady didn’t’ stop until I started coughin’ up blood.” She brought a hand to her lips, remembering the metallic taste in her mouth.
“That settles it. Grady needs to die.” His voice vibrated with rage.
“What if dyin’ is too easy? I want him to suffer for what he did to my baby, to me. In my mind, death is kinder.” The words escaped before she could hold them back.
“I see your point.” Justice shivered. “If given a choice, I’d rather die than be held captive again.” He pulled back to look her in the eye. “What happened next?”
“After he backed off, I tried to get to my feet, but I was weak. I managed to pull myself up, by clingin’ to the kitchen cupboards. Grady said he’d had enough of me, and he was throwin’ me out. He ordered me to grab my stuff and get out of his place.”
The whole incident was a bit hazy, as though time slowed and nothing seemed real. Etta hadn’t been in her right mind.
“I knew what I needed to do. I staggered down the hall, blood dripped down my legs, runnin’ all the way from my thighs to my ankles.”
“You had a miscarriage.”
“Yes, Grady murdered my child, and I’m the one who let it happen.” Her voice was choked with tears. “So you see, I don’t deserve to adopt a child. I let my own down when she needed me most.”
“Grady killed your baby, not you.”
“I’m the one who decided to live with a monster. What did I think would happen?”
“No, you aren’t gonna beat yourself up about this. It ain’t your fault.”
“Feels like it is.”
“I know.” Justice hugged her tight, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “You said ‘she.' Was the baby a girl?”
“I have no way of knowin’, but I like to think so.”
“Like I said the other night, you’d be a wonderful mother.”
“Not back then.” She swallowed.
“You’re a different person. Tell me the rest.”
“Grady had a gun in the nightstand drawer. I’m not sure what I intended to do with it, but I needed protection. He figured something was up, by my demeanor. Normally, after a beatin’, I was weepy, afraid. Not this time. I fired a shot and hit the wall behind him. He was close enough for me to hit him in the chest, but I didn’t.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “I was shoutin’, callin’ him a murderer because he is. And then he charged me. We tumbled to the floor, strugglin’ for the gun. Maybe I should’ve killed him.”
“It would’ve been self-defense.”
“Possibly, but I never would’ve been the same.”
“Instead, Grady beat me until I was unconscious, but he didn’t finish the job. Maybe he thought losing the baby was enough?” Grady probably believed letting her live with the knowledge of what she’d lost would be crueler.
“I don’t know, but I’m glad he did. They didn’t convict him on attempted murder?” Justice asked.
“No, the prosecutor didn’t prove his case, as far as the jury was concerned. Although, they charged him with felony assault.”
“And there’s more.” Her voice quivered. “When I woke in the hospital, after the coma, the doctor said I wouldn’t be able to have any more children. I was bleedin’ internally, and they tried to save my ovaries, but couldn’t.”
It was such a bitter pill to swallow.
Etta absently stroked her stomach. The feeling of being pregnant had been fleeting. She wished she’d gotten the chance to enjoy it, to feel the baby growing inside of her—to give birth, and hold her daughter. Grady had taken so much from her.
“God, I’m so damn sorry.” When she glanced at his face, his eyes were glistening.
“I’ve accepted it. Have you ever wanted children?”
It was a deep question to ask, but they’d already shared so much with one another. Etta could discuss anything with Justice.
“I’ve always wanted to be a father, but I don’t got much of a chance of fatherin’ a kid anyway.”
“Why?”
“I’m gonna show you somethin’. This ain’t about sex, but I understand what you went through.” Justice stood and pulled down his jeans and then his boxer briefs. His cock was half hard, but when Justice lifted the staff to one side, Etta noticed a wound on his scrotum. It was so slight, she hadn’t noticed it before. Then again, she’d been very distracted at the time.
“You were stabbed?”
He laid a hand on his leg. “Yeah, by the dickhead who did this to me, Jeff. He punctured one of my balls. I can still have kids, but my chances are literally cut in half. I might’ve died if the cavalry hadn’t arrived later on that very night. I was already weak, and my leg was infected.”
“I’m sorry.” Once again, they had more in common than she had realized. “Were the men who did this ever found?”
“Oh yeah.” His smile was smug. “The Navy SEALs tossed their asses in Gitmo, but ol’ Jeff didn’t make it.”
Etta shared his glee. She didn’t feel a bit bad for their plight.
“What happened?”
“He pulled a weapon, and the SEALs had to put ‘em down.”
Etta bet there was a bit more to the story, but didn’t ask. And she was glad Jeff was no longer among the living because at least Justice had some measure of closure.
“Could you ever forgive Jeff, assumin’ you wanted to, I mean?”
“I don’t, and no, I couldn’t. Ever. Some people don’t deserve our forgiveness. What about you, can you forgive Grady?”
She shook her head. “I did everythin’ I could to let go of it. I talked to my preacher, a counselor, my friends, but I can’t let it go, and I never will.”
“There’s no rule sayin’ you have to.” Justice laid down again, staring up at the ceiling. “Now, I reckon it’s my turn, to share.”
Is he gonna let me in this time?
“I came clean with Trick, and I don’t wanna hold anythin’ back from you. Are you up for it, right now?”
“I am.” And then Etta listened, as Justice told her everything about Afghanistan.