Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 

Two weeks after he’d come to the island to get her, Owen allowed Prue to return to work. In those weeks, he’d been in constant communication with Claymore, and after determining Paul Cook had in fact died of natural causes, and Aron King had once again left the country, they deemed things safe enough for her to begin to resume her normal life.

But nothing felt normal to Prue. Everything seemed different from when she left it. The packed streets and sidewalks made her long for soft, swaying beach grass and movable sand beneath her feet. She missed the steady, soothing drone of the lake, and tried to convince herself the sounds of city traffic, with its intermittent horns, sirens, and alarms, rendered a comparably pleasant effect.

Adding to the new strangeness of her old life, Owen insisted on delivering her to and from her office, and monitoring her every move, all day, every day, including while she toiled away inside the Institute.

Oh, who was she kidding? Though she’d missed nearly a month of work, by the end of the second day back she’d caught up on her tasks. With little else to do, she sat at her desk and tried to act as though everything were fine. That her life hadn’t been threatened and that she hadn’t had her heart shattered by a beautiful, broken, infuriating man.

She missed him. That morning when she’d awakened, her first thought had been of something outrageous she would say to coax a shocked smile or a laugh out of him. Anything to get him to react. To jolt him out from behind that deadened stare, or the lifeless wall that struggled to confine him.

Her heart ached for him. For what he’d told her about Rose. She’d once thought him too cold, his heart too hardened to love her. But his heart wasn’t hard. It was big and gentle, and completely lost without her. Prue couldn’t bring herself to be angry at him now that she understood a little of the heartache that had convinced him it was safer to withdraw from the world than risk suffering such anguish ever again.

By the end of her second week back at work, Prue had begun to loathe the new normal of her life. Leo was everywhere, all the time. She kept waiting for his memory to fade, or to be replaced with the newest details from her life, but so far, nothing could compete with him. Impulsively, she’d applied to a job opening for a science journalist with a national magazine, hoping a new challenge would leave little room for him in her mind at least.

He’d always occupy a corner of her heart.

Friday afternoon, she climbed into Owen’s car and gave him a stiff smile.

As he did every day, he raked his gaze over her face, giving her a thorough, somber assessment. Seemingly satisfied, he put the car in gear and eased out into traffic.

She puzzled over that look. Why did he do that? It was strange.

“Do you think there’s still some danger?” she asked.

He turned his head and peered into the side mirror. “The thing is, we just don’t know.”

Prue scrunched up her face at his uncharacteristically wishy-washy reply. “Well, when will we know?”

“Soon enough, I imagine.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”

“I’m fine.” But a scowl tipped down the corners of his mouth when he shifted in his seat, as though he were uncomfortable.

They drove in silence the rest of the way to her apartment, where he steered his car up close to the curb and put it in Park.

He didn’t turn off the engine.

“Aren’t you going to walk me up?”

Frowning, he gave her another eerie once-over, and then his expression cleared. “I don’t see any parking spots. Do you mind if I just drop you off here?”

That’s when it hit her. A month after taking over her safekeeping, the threat he feared wasn’t external but internal. He wasn’t worried someone might attack her again. He was worried about what she might do to hurt herself.

Her cheeks heated with her mortification.

When he snuck a glance at her, she saw the same gravity that had been there since he’d collected her from Leo’s home, but for the first time she noticed the touch of pity in his eyes.

He felt sorry for her, and she had a sickening suspicion it wasn’t due to the ordeal of the last few weeks. More likely, he believed she’d fallen for a guy that would never want her. Again.

She scrambled from his car and darted up the brick path to her apartment building, her feet pounding in time to her racing heart. At the top of the stairs, she flung open the door to her apartment and slammed it shut behind her, barricading herself inside.

She didn’t want Owen to feel sorry for her, and she certainly didn’t need him to tell her she’d been an idiot to fall in love with Leo.

Why had she done it? Why had she given anyone the power to hurt her again? Of all people, why him, her brother’s best friend?

She would’ve cried except she’d shed all her tears. Her heart was empty and she had nothing left to give.

Not to anyone else, ever again.

 

 

The bullet had shattered Leo’s hip bone. After two surgeries, it’d taken months of recovery and grueling rehab before he was well again. Physically, at least.

In all that time, Lauren’s tears never stopped. All she did was cry, and the rare times they talked, she would look at him with accusation in her eyes. He wanted to keep trying to rebuild their lives, believing they could find their way back to each other, and he told her that as often as he could, every time they spoke about anything of substance.

Until one day she asked him to stop.

“I won’t stop saying it, Lauren. I love you.”

“No, I don’t mean stop saying it. I mean stop trying.” She spoke in a flat monotone. “I don’t want to try anymore, Leo.”

Blinking away the memory, Leo turned his head.

Above him, a form appeared in the shape of a man.

Jack scowled down at him. “What happened to you?”

With effort, Leo sat. Light-headed, he rubbed a hand across his eyes. He had no idea how long he’d lain there, in the doorway of her bedroom.

“Where’s Prue?” Jack wanted to know.

“She’s gone.”

Jack put a hand under Leo’s arm and dragged him to his feet. “You been drinking?”

“No. You got anything?”

A wide smile split Jack’s face. “I got something better than alcohol.”

Moments later, Leo glared at Jack from his spot at the opposite end of the garage. “In what world is this better than alcohol?”

Jack drew back his hockey stick and with a sharp slice sent the tennis ball rocketing at Leo’s head.

Reflexively, Leo knocked the ball down with his stick before it took out his teeth. The surge of adrenaline winged through his veins, and Jack’s low, taunting chuckle was the dog whistle of his youth. The youngest of five boys, he’d had to fight to get anything he wanted. A turn on the bike, the last cookie, a chance to steer the boat. Everything came down to who wanted it more, and for Leo, who for years had been smaller and slower than the others, that fight was never easy.

He turned the stick over slowly in his hands, getting the feel for it again after so long. Then he wound up and struck, trying to hit his brother in the face because admittedly, that would be better than alcohol.

The nastiest game of one-on-one hockey they’d ever played ensued. In their epic struggle, the ball pinged off walls and ricocheted off their cars parked in the driveway. When they took out one of the overhead lightbulbs and stopped to clean up the broken glass, Jack checked the time on his cell phone.

“We better get going or we’re gonna be late,” he said, sliding the phone into his hip pocket.

“I didn’t know we were going somewhere.”

“Haven wants to see you.” His teeth flashed white in his tanned face. “She wants to do your hair and dress you up like you’re her little dolly.”

Leo’s mouth twisted with his dry smirk. “I’d bet my left nut that Haven never played with dolls.”

The smile on Jack’s face turned to pure adoration. “No way am I taking that bet.” He lifted the tennis ball on the end of his hockey stick and flipped it to Leo. “Keep your balls. Something tells me you’re going to need them.”

Leo made Jack wait while he took a quick shower, his first in days, then together they climbed into Jack’s car. But fifteen minutes later, when they pulled up at Luke and Emily’s home, Leo balked.

“I thought we were going to your place,” he said.

“The builders are putting down the floors today. Haven’s here to study and get away from the noise for a while.”

Inside, Jack went in search of his soon-to-be wife while Leo hung back, his stomach knotting with The Fear. Where the hell was Haven? She needed to give him this damned haircut so he could get out of this house.

He moved into the living room and sank down on the overstuffed sofa. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head onto the sofa back and concentrated on taking slow, even breaths.

At the sound of rustling nearby, Leo cracked open one eye to find Emily collapsed in an armchair. Like him, she laid her head on the chair back and closed her eyes.

He lifted his head and shot a few quick glances around, not sure what to do. Just as he started to get up, Luke staggered into the room and flopped onto the sofa beside him. His brother burrowed down into the cushions, and the sounds of his deep, even breathing soon joined Emily’s.

Leo gaped at them. He noted the heavy bags under both their eyes and their rumpled appearances.

A shriek punctured the quiet in the room.

Luke and Emily awoke with panicked jolts while Leo surged to his feet, the sound of the crying baby grating across his heart like broken glass. His chest ached and he rubbed a hand over his pec, trying to massage away the pain.

“Luke, sweetie, it’s your turn.”

Luke had already started to doze again.

“Luke.” Emily’s voice snapped in a way Leo had never heard before.

His brother thrashed to an upright position in the cushions.

“The baby,” Emily said. “It’s your turn.”

With a groan of frustration, Luke sagged. “Okay, I got him.”

But Luke didn’t move. The baby’s howls intensified and, with frantic head jerks, Leo looked from one exhausted parent to the other and back.

“Luke,” Emily whined.

Leo swallowed with difficulty. “I’ll get him.” Instinct to tend to the cries overrode his fear. “If you want….”

Luke’s emphatic “Yes” shot out over Emily’s quiet plea of “Oh, please, go.”

His legs filled with lead, Leo walked down the hall, every painful step taking him closer to the heartrending sound. The door to the family suite stood open, and he passed through it to arrive at the baby’s room.

With a bracing breath, he pushed the door open wide.

The crib stood in the corner beneath a mobile of flying elephants and he crept toward it. Fear and anger and despair choked a sob from him as he peeked over the crib rail.

The little guy kicked his tiny arms and legs in frustration. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his small mouth contorted with his wails.

Wetness streamed down both his and the baby’s cheeks when he reached into the crib and lifted the squirming bundle into his arms. A moment later, the baby realized someone held him and his shrieks quieted to weak protests. Leo gently jostled him, and with a few furious blinks, the baby’s cloudy blue eyes latched on to his face.

Emotion piled in Leo’s throat and he made a strangled sound, like a sob or a laugh.

The severe scowl in place, the baby gurgled and cooed, registering his list of complaints with his uncle.

“I know.” Leo stuck out his finger and a teeny fist clamped around it. “Wow, you’re a strong little guy, aren’t you?”

Leo kept up the rhythmic jostling until a yawn caused his nephew’s miniature chin to quiver, and then, finally, his eyes drooped shut. The moment Leo thought it safe to do so, he returned the infant to the crib.

Then he bolted, bursting out into the hallway as his sobs broke loose. He pulled the door closed and, pressing his back against it, sank to the floor.

Goddammit, would the hurting never let up? His chest ached, and he dragged painful breaths into his lungs.

Footsteps sounded in the hall and he wiped the wet from his cheeks a moment before Haven appeared.

“Wait. What is that sound?” After a beat, her hands dropped to her sides. “Oh my God. It’s silence. How did you do that?”

As she collapsed on the floor beside him, Leo scrubbed a hand through his hair.

Jack appeared in the doorway and stumbled to a stop to find them on the floor at his feet. “Oh no. He defeated you, too? A fucking Marine? His mom and dad don’t stand a chance.”

Haven nudged Leo with her shoulder. “You okay?”

Leo stared at the wall across from them. He hadn’t been okay in years. Not since he lost her. He was sick, and he was tired, and he had no idea what to do about any of it. He was tired of the pain that never ended. Tired of turning that pain on others who didn’t deserve it. Tired of holding it all inside him. Holding her inside him instead of letting her memory live in the world.

His mouth moved before he finally forced out the awful words. “I had a daughter.”

“Fuck, Leo….” Jack stepped over Leo’s legs and dropped to the ground beside him. “What happened?”

Leo met his brother’s troubled gaze. He swallowed hard. “She died.”

Jack’s eyes glittered with pain. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

Haven had hooked her arm under Leo’s, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

“She was born too early.” Leo spoke softly while his heart screamed. “She was a fighter and fought hard the whole first week but… she… didn’t make it through her second week.”

“How long ago did she die?” Haven asked, her voice a suffocated whisper.

“She would’ve turned four next month.”

Jack dragged a hand over his mouth as if to hold back the storm of emotion visible on his face and Haven’s silent tears fell onto the sleeve of Leo’s T-shirt. They sat together in silence for a long time, guarding the baby’s bedroom door and tending to their broken hearts.

“I think she’s with your mom,” Haven said softly. “And your mom is so happy because she finally has a baby girl. Her baby’s baby.”

Beside him, a light sound escaped Jack.

“Oh c’mon, you know I’m right,” Haven said. “I mean, the poor woman had five boys.”

“Maybe she’s taking care of Noah’s baby, too,” Jack said.

Leo’s breath caught. “Noah?”

“Mina miscarried last year.”

Leo dropped his head against the wall with a soft thud, a fresh wound tearing across his heart.

“What was your mom’s name?” Haven asked.

“Fiona,” Jack said.

“Fiona.” The name held Haven’s smile. “I think my brother is with them, or he visits, or lives nearby, or something—I don’t really know how it works.”

Unbelievably, a laugh rumbled in Leo’s chest.

“But they’re together,” she continued. “And one day we’ll all get to be there with them.”

Leo laid his head on top of hers. “I like the sound of that.”

“But not yet,” Jack clarified.

“No, not yet,” Haven agreed. “Let them have their fun. Five boys, for crying out loud. Can you imagine how ecstatic she is to have a little girl?” She pinched Leo’s arm. “You know I’m right.”

“I will never admit that,” Leo said.

“Smart man,” Jack muttered under his breath.