His Ever After (Love Square) (29 page)

“What are we up against?” Mack asks Stevens.

“McIlroy and Smith picked the perp up a few blocks from here. He took off on foot when we found them. He’s on his way to the station now. The victim –”

“Kara. Her name is Kara,” I say hoarsely. Dread is clawing at my insides, and my legs feel weak.

He nods his head at me and continues, “Kara was unconscious when we arrived. She’s been severely beaten and her head is bleeding pretty badly. Her clothes were torn from her body and the perp was on top of her when we found them.”

Hearing the words makes my legs give way. I collapse on my knees and an anguished sob escapes me. “No. No, please no.”

“Do we know if he was able to sexually assault her?” Mack asks behind me, placing his hands on my shoulder in a sign of support.

“Not until she’s examined. There was no blood there, so she might be lucky.” By his tone, you can tell he doesn’t really believe it. We’ve all seen cases like this enough to know it rarely works out that way.

The rest of their conversation fades out as my mind repeats his previous words like a broken record. My ears are ringing, and my chest is heaving with sobs. I couldn’t stop them, even if I wanted to. My world is lying four hundred feet away on the cold ground – unconscious and bleeding.

I failed her. Even now I’m failing her. Instead of taking care of her, I’m sitting here like a pussy, crying and wishing this never happened.

I’m not sure how long I sit on the ground staring unseeingly down the alley. Mack’s hand on my shoulders brings me out of my head. “Do you want to see her before the ambulance takes her?”

I look up and see the paramedics swiftly pushing the gurney down the alley towards the ambulance. I find my footing and rush to her side, grabbing her cold, lifeless hand. I’m immediately assaulted with memories of Brooke, when I feel the limpness in Kara’s hand. Please don’t let her meet the same fate as Brooke. I’ll do anything. Anything at all. I shake my head and try to focus. I can’t let the memories drag me under right now. Not when Kara needs me.

I cringe when I get a good look at her. Her tresses are soaked with blood, her eye is swollen and bruising. There are cuts and scrapes along her face, blood and more bruises covering almost every inch of her face. So many, many bruises. Even her mouth has finger shaped bruises forming around it. I lean over and kiss her lips and whisper in her ear, “Come back to me, baby. Please don’t leave. I love you so damn much. Please Kara. Don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry, sir. We need you to move so we can get her to the hospital,” one of the paramedics says.

“I want to ride with her,” I demand while trying to get in the ambulance.

“There’s no room. We need to be able to work on her. She’s lost a lot of blood. You’ll have to meet us there.” The door closes, and I feel like I’ve been physically stripped of a piece of me. Loss consumes me, and I feel hopeless without her. I stare as the ambulance drives away, not able to move.

“Let’s go. I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Mack says as he grabs my arms and pulls me towards the cruiser.

Chapter Twenty

“You need to pull your shit together,” Mack says on the way to the hospital. We’re following the ambulance, and I feel the bile rising up in my throat the closer we get.

“I know,” I respond curtly, not wanting to talk.

“She’s going to need you to be strong. We don’t know what we are up against,” he continues, oblivious to the fact that I just want him to shut the hell up already.

When he comes to a stop outside the emergency room, I jump out of the car and race inside.

“Can I help you, sir?” The plump, older lady asks from behind the desk.

I flash her my badge. “I’m here for Kara Andrews. The ambulance just brought her in.”

She looks down at her chart and then back up at me. “Yes, officer. She’s in bay six. Dr. Huntley is attending to her now. I’ll let her know you’re here. She’ll be out to update you soon.”

With no other choice, I start pacing back and forth in the waiting room. They should have named it something along the lines of Torture Room or Pull Your Hair out in Agony Room. Each person sitting here, all has the same pinched and strained expressions on their face. They too are waiting for their futures to be determined, one way or another.

About an hour after we arrive, Mack hands me a cup of coffee. He crosses his arms against his chest and stares at me. There is a mix of pity and sadness in his eyes, along with anger and frustration. I know the feeling all too well.

“Do we have the name of the perp yet?” I ask, trying to keep myself from going stir crazy. Mack has been outside on his phone pretty much the whole time we’ve been here. I’m grateful to him for getting me information without me having to ask for it. He is a true partner.

“Cory Thompson.” He confirms what I my gut had already told me. I knew that fucker wouldn’t go away quietly.

“The Feds are talking to him now,” Mack continues.

“Wait. Why?” I ask, not following along. My head is still wrapped up in Kara and wanting to be with her. Why would the Feds be interested in a psychotic ex-boyfriend?

“Turns out his prints matched the partial we picked up at one of the murders. The plan is to get him in a line up with the witness we talked to earlier. It’s our best chance, since from what I hear the bastard isn’t talking.” Mack’s hands clench into fists at his side, betraying the calmness in his voice.

I slump in my chair and run my hands through my hair. What the fuck? Is this for real? Cory is the serial killer we’ve been searching for?

“This is a good thing, Jacob. We have him in custody, so now we can build a case against him. If you really think about it, it all makes sense. He’s been targeting redheads this whole time, and that’s just what Kara is.”

“Fuck. How did I not see this?” Coincidences and timelines begin to click into place. “Remember when we said that something must have triggered him, since he was becoming more violent? That all coincides with when Kara turned him down and then the incident at her place. It must have been what was fueling him. I want to know the second that lineup is done.” If we really caught the serial killer, I’ll be pumped. I just don’t like knowing it was at the cost of Kara’s safety and health.

“Kara Andrews,” the doctor calls out from across the room. She has dark hair pulled back into a severe bun and her slight frame is covered in dark blue scrubs and a white lab coat. Her black rimmed glasses make her look scholarly. I jump up and hurry towards her. “You’re here for Ms. Andrews?”

“Yes. Detective Matthews,” I show her my badge. “Kara is my girlfriend.”

“I see.” Her face looks disappointed as she looks me over. I feel like yelling at her. I want to know about Kara, not be scoped out by a horny doctor. “Well, Detective Matthews, I’ll tell you the easy news first. As I’m sure you’re aware, Kara had several contusions and cuts on her face. We’ve sewed up the few that needed it. Her right wrist is sprained, so we splinted that. She’ll need to keep it on for a few weeks.

“And her knee was dislocated. We reset it and she’ll have a brace on for a few weeks as well. I’ll also want her to go through physical therapy to regain strength and mobility.”

Dr. Huntley’s focus is broken when a nurse comes out from the double doors and grabs her attention. “Excuse me a moment,” she mutters walking away. I watch anxiously as she signs some papers on a clipboard and speaks quietly with the nurse. I sense Mack’s presence to my left, just outside my peripheral vision. I’m thankful he has my back. There is no telling what news I’m about to learn.

The doctor walks back over, giving her apologizes. “Where did I leave off? Oh, yes. She has suffered significant head trauma. We were able to stop the bleeding, but there is some swelling in her brain that has me concerned. We’re going to keep her asleep for a while in hopes that it will go down. If it doesn’t, we’ll need to perform surgery to open up her skull and alleviate the pressure on her brain.”

“When you say you’re going to keep her asleep for a while, does this mean she’s going to regain consciousness?” I ask, my voice low and quivering with fear.

“Unfortunately, there’s no way to know for sure. With head trauma, the brain needs time to rest and heal. The advantage of keeping her in a coma is that we are increasing the chances of that very thing happening. Only time will tell. I’m sorry to not have any more concrete answers for you.” Her eyes show sadness and pain. I don’t think those emotions are for Kara. She must have lost someone close to her. There are definite demons lurking behind the surface of Dr. Huntley.

“Were you able to do a rape kit?” Mack steps up to us and asks the question that has been lingering in our minds since we learned of the circumstances under which she was found.

Dr. Huntley proceeds to give him the same once over she gave to me, and you can see the interest flare in her eyes. Awkward.

“We did. There were no tears, bruising or bleeding. And there were no traces of semen present. I don’t see any reason to believe she was raped.” She gives me a reassuring smile, and I feel my body sag with relief.

“Thank you for taking care of her.” I would kiss her out of gratitude if I didn’t think she’d get the wrong idea.

“It’s my job, but you’re welcome. She’s being moved upstairs. The nurse can tell you which room. Take care.” She gives Mack one last glance before turning to walk away.

***

“Come on, baby. Wake up. The girls are dying to see you. We’re all dying to see you,” I croon in Kara’s ear for the millionth time. And for the millionth time, she doesn’t respond. I slump back in my chair and scrub my hands over my face.

Each day, it’s the same thing. I talk to her. I hold her. I kiss her. Yet she never responds. Each night, I curl up with her and weep into her shoulder. I know that if Kara were inside this body, she would never let me cry without comforting me. It’s in her nature to be selfless and loving. And that thought disheartens me the most.

“Still nothing?” Emma asks, walking into the room with a couple of coffees. She hands me one and then sips the other.

“No. It’s been a week since they stopped keeping her under. Why hasn’t she woken up?” I’m so damn frustrated right now. The doctor has even warned me that Kara may suffer from memory loss or a host of other problems due to her head trauma. I refuse to believe that my Kara isn’t lying in that bed. But every day that passes, I lose hope that she will come back to me.

Emma sits next to me and puts her head on my shoulder. Her hand holds mine reassuringly. “I know it’s hard, but you need to give it time. Her brain needs to heal itself. She’ll wake up when she’s ready. You’ll see.”

“What if she isn’t the same Kara? What if she doesn’t remember me? What if she can’t function normally and our whole future is stripped from us?” It’s so hard voicing my biggest fears out loud. I need to do it though. They are beginning to eat away at me like a parasite.

“You can’t think that way. She needs your faith and love right now, not your negativity.” Emma chastises me softly.

“I wanted to marry her and have babies with her. What if that fucker took it all away from us? I can’t stand to lose her and that dream. After Sam, I didn’t think I could feel for someone as strongly as I do for Kara. And we lost so much time because I was an ass and then chased after a ghost.”

Emma smiles a watery smile. “I always knew you’d be knocked on your ass one day. Mom would love her, you know? And the girls are already calling her Aunt Kara.”

As much as I want to laugh at that sentiment, it just twists that knife of fear and uncertainty deeper into my heart.

I turn towards the door when there is a knock, and it opens. Mack walks through with a sad smile on his face. I’m getting used to these looks from everyone.

“I got the boy out there. The one who asked Kara to go to his house. He was pacing outside the door, looking afraid to come in. He wants to talk to you.” Mack steps out of the doorway.

I sigh and get up from my chair. Jerome was already questioned by the Feds about the story he told. The details I received were vague, and I’m not sure if I can forgive him for what happened. I kiss Emma on her cheek before walking towards the door. “Take care of our girl,” I say to her as I open the door with Mack on my heels.

“Alright kid. You’ve got two minutes to tell me what you need.” I cross my arms and give him an unforgiving glare.

“Jacob, hear him out.” Mack says in Jerome’s defense. I can’t force myself to relax though.

“I’m so sorry about what happened to Miss Andrews. I never thought she’d get hurt. He said he just wanted to talk to her. He said that you wouldn’t let her out of your sight. That he loved her and she loved him, but that you were crowding her. I thought I was doing her a favor! I swear!” Jerome talks quickly and with an edge of hysteria in his voice. And don’t I feel like a piece of shit for giving him a hard time. It’s plain to see that this is eating away at him.

“I know you didn’t want her to get hurt. But you have to admit Miss Andrews never looked like she was unhappy being with me, right? So why did you think she needed your help getting away from me?”

He looks down at his feet and kicks at the ground, looking uncomfortable. “My mom,” he whispers.

“What about your mom, son?” Mack asks before I can.

“My mom used to date a guy who never let her do anything without his approval. She would smile when her friends or my grandma were around, but at home she always looked so miserable. I wanted to save Miss Andrews from that.” Jerome looks away from us, and his chin starts to quiver.

I put my hand on the back of his neck and squeeze. “Thank you for looking out for her. I’m sorry this had to happen and that you had to learn a hard lesson. Next time someone approaches you with a situation like that, always talk to a grown up about it first. Okay?” When he nods, I continue, “When Kara wakes up, I’m sure she is going to want to see you. Give Mack your number and he’ll give you a call.”

“Thank you for forgiving me. My mom and I are praying for her every day.”