Shadows (Black Raven Book 1) (16 page)

Thank God.
“And if anyone ever asks you anything about Dad, what are you going to say?”

“I’ll say I don’t know. Or I don’t remember. Or,” she paused as she gave Skye a sly, quiet smile, “I’ll tell them about the Pyrenees.” She lifted her ear buds and waved them at Skye. “I’m on the P’s. The Pyrenees.”

Skye seized upon the distraction. “Would you like to go hiking there this summer?”

“No.”

Even on ordinary days, Spring didn’t like to travel. It upset her routine, and that had been one of the problems with being Richard Barrows’ daughter. Their mother had been the family’s anchor. After she died, when Skye was thirteen and Spring was two, homes had just been houses, and the addresses always changed. With the guilt-induced clarity that came after the car accident, Skye had been working on changing that for Spring and, until Sebastian had appeared at the coffee house, she’d succeeded.

Spring frowned, “I’m really, really tired. Can we go home now?”

“Soon. But not now.”

“We’re going home when we leave, aren’t we?”

Skye drew a deep breath. “Not right away.”

Fat tears spilled from Spring’s eyes.

“Honey, please don’t cry,” Skye said, struggling to keep her voice calm. “We’re returning there just as soon as we can, but we have to make sure the man who hit you is gone.”

“If we can’t go home, can we go to Firefly Island?”

“Yes. I’ll take you there, once we’re sure you are fine. But don’t tell anyone that’s where we’re going,” she said, gripping Spring’s hands. “Not Sebastian, not anyone. Remember, the lake house is our secret. Only me, you, and Dad know about the lake house or Firefly Island, and it has to stay that way. Understand?”

Spring gave her a wide-eyed nod and a sniff.

“Now I need to talk to the doctors.” She got Spring situated on the couch with a plate of sandwiches, a soda, and earphones on with her iPad playing the P’s. Candy, her fur damp, snoozed in a bed of towels on the floor, near the couch. Skye paced for a few minutes. When she saw that Spring’s gaze was following her, with a worry line bisecting her brow, she sat down just before the nurse and doctor entered the room. She stood as they did.

“I’ve ruled out bruising on the brain or bleeding,” the doctor said.

Skye exhaled with relief, but there was still concern in his eyes. “Does that rule out a concussion?”

He frowned. “Not entirely. Her lack of memory could be a symptom of concussion, as is extreme anxiety, which she exhibited. However,” he paused, “both memory loss and anxiety are somewhat normal for her, right?”

“Yes.”

“Because there’s a possibility that she suffered a concussion, for now, she needs rest, and I’ve told Sebastian I’m not releasing her for another few hours. I’ll conduct more tests at five. Assuming all goes well, you can be on your way. Even then, there’s to be only mild exertion, lots of naps. For the next twenty-four hours, wake her every couple of hours. If it’s difficult to wake her, or she complains of a headache, if she’s nauseated or vomiting, if she’s sensitive to light or noise, if she can’t balance, if she sleeps too much, if she’s more emotional than normal,” he paused, “anything unusual, bring her back to me, or to an emergency room. Don’t hesitate.”

Skye drew a deep breath. This complicated her plan of running, but it was better than learning that Spring had traumatic brain injury. “Her nose?”

“There’s a hairline fracture in the bridge of her nose, which should heal on its own. She stopped bleeding, so we don’t need to pack it. Rhonda will give you supplies for if she starts bleeding again.” He paused, “Candy’s x-rays showed no signs of a fracture in her shoulder or neck. She’s just sore.”

He left, as Rhonda opened a supply cabinet.

Finally.

“It’s all a lie. The kidnapping. Everything you’ve been told about why we’re here,” Skye said. “We need your help.”

Rhonda turned, a pack of gauze in her hands, an uncertain look in her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“We were trying to escape from Sebastian. We’re married. My sister lives with us,” she paused, “Last night I caught him going into her room.” Rhonda’s eyes widened. Her face became pale. “When I confronted him, he beat me. He knows where to hit so that his fists don’t leave marks. Normally he’s not in a rage,” she shuddered, “but this morning he was. This is the first time that he took it out on her more than me. I can’t let this go on. I have to leave. I need your help.”

“Why didn’t you tell this to Doctor Cavanaugh?”

“They’re friends. Don’t you see?” She stepped closer to Rhonda, who had put the supplies down and was still, intent on Skye’s every word. Spring, headphones on, wasn’t listening. “The doctor isn’t going to help us get away from him. This morning I was trying to leave. He figured it out. He attacked me, my sister tried to defend me, and that’s when he punched her. Candy got in the middle of it, and he kicked her.” She couldn’t cry on cue, but she could make her voice break. “He, he l-loves us. There’s always remorse after one of our fights. That’s why he brought us here. Please.” Skye dropped her voice to the lowest of whispers. “I don’t care what he does to me. But he’s hurt her, for God’s sake. I just need your help to get out of here. I have a place to go. I have cash. I just need to get away from him, and I need your help to do it.”

“I’m not sure what I can do,” Rhonda said. “Besides, Doctor Cavanaugh just advised you to stay here a few more hours.”

“We can’t stay. Create a distraction.” Skye grabbed the other woman’s arm, and said urgently, “just get Pete away from the door for a minute, and we’ll get away. Now is my only chance to do something I’ve needed to do for years. Now
.
We have to leave now.”

Worried brown eyes held hers. Skye saw concern, but also skepticism. “Have you tried the police?”

“They’re no help. They file a domestic disturbance report and that’s it. Like a piece of paper does anything. It only makes him madder. We have to get away from him,” Skye paused, glanced at the clock. 2:30. Dear God. Time was racing by. She had to
run. “And I need to do it now.”

“Pete’s not going to just leave,” Rhonda said. “He looks like he’s pretty good at what he does, and right now, that’s protecting you and your sister.”

“Not protecting. Guarding us so that we don’t run away,” Skye said. “With your help, a fire alarm, something, I’ll make it work. Please.”

“Didn’t they drive you here?” Rhonda asked. “How are you, your sister, and the dog going to leave?”

She guessed that Rhonda wouldn’t appreciate the idea of stealing a car from the valet stand, so she didn’t share it. “We’re on a busy street, with stores and businesses. Plenty of places to disappear. Please. Don’t you understand? I’m not afraid of what’s out there.” She waved her arm in an all-encompassing signal of the world beyond the hospital. “I’m afraid of him.”

“I’m sorry. There are rules. I’m supposed to report all cases of domestic abuse to the authorities, but first, I’m supposed to report it to the doctor in charge of your care. As much as I want to help you, I can’t just let you run away. ”

Well, Rhonda wasn’t quite the gullible and naive bleeding heart she had hoped for. It was time for economic incentive, and this better work, because if it didn’t, and Rhonda reported this story to the doctor, she knew one man who was going to be furious. She thought of a way to make an offer of cash and diamonds seem like something less than a flat-out bribe. Skye drew a deep breath, “I’ll pay you if you give me your car keys. I have cash and diamonds.”

Rhonda was wide-eyed and silent.

It was time for show and tell. Skye undid her belt. The outside of it was a solid band of leather. The inside of it, the part that pressed against her jeans, was fabric with three zippered compartments. She undid one zipper, and pulled out the contents—a stack of bills and a small, black-velvet pouch. She placed the stack of bills in Rhonda’s hand before opening one of the small pouches and letting the contents spill into her palm. Six high-quality diamonds, of various shapes and sizes, glittered in the well-lit hospital room. Rhonda’s eyes were drawn to the fiery diamonds.

“That’s five thousand dollars. These diamonds are worth over one hundred thousand dollars. They’re all for you, if you walk back in the room with your car keys, then create a distraction. Pull the fire alarm and ask Pete for help in assessing the emergency. It can be as simple as that.”

Rhonda tore her eyes from the diamonds and focused on Skye. “My keys are in my locker.”

Skye returned the diamonds to the pouch and tucked the pouch into the pocket of her jeans. “Keep the cash. Bring your keys to me, agree to create a distraction, and the diamonds are yours.”

Rhonda tucked the cash into the pocket of her dress. “I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry.” Skye slipped the belt onto her jeans and buckled it.

As Rhonda left the room, Pete glanced in. He held Skye’s eyes for a second, before shutting the door. Skye drew a deep breath in relief as her eyes rested on Spring and Candy.

Please let this work. Dear God. It has to work.

As
2:30 became 2:50, she couldn’t sit. Staying still for too long required too much effort. Daytime television didn’t hold her attention. She paced. In the gap between the door and the floor, she could see the dark shadows of Pete’s feet.

Where was Rhonda?

The door to the hospital room finally opened a half hour after Rhonda left. Skye’s heart plummeted as Sebastian opened the door, instead of the nurse. He’d changed into a pair of jeans and crisp white cotton, long-sleeved shirt. His hair was damp. The fresh scent of soap followed him into the room. Maybe he had accomplished tasks other than showering and changing out of his bloodstained clothes, but if he had, none of the tasks had lightened the serious look in his eyes, or softened the hard-as-stone set to his jaw.

He glanced towards the couch, where Spring still slept, wearing her earphones. Candy’s eyes followed Sebastian, but other than a lazy tail wag, she didn’t move from Spring’s side, evidently having decided somewhere during the morning that Sebastian was not anyone to worry about. He shut the door behind him, barely making a sound but infecting the room with his brooding, angry-at-the-world presence.

He walked to where Skye stood. She backed up, until the wall prevented her from going any further. He kept coming at her, invading her personal space as his eyes drowned her with cobalt sparks, stopping only when he was so close that she could feel his heat and sense the power in his large body. He pinned her to the wall with a solid palm press to her chest, with his fingers on the soft flesh of her neck, as she pressed her palms against his chest and tried to push him away.

“I’m sexually abusing your sister and beat the two of you? Really?” With his free hand, the one that wasn’t within an inch of shutting down her windpipe, he reached to her waist and unbuckled her belt. She hammer-fisted at his chest and struggled to break free. It was like pounding on a tree trunk. He didn’t even flinch, and she was punching as hard as she could. All he did was press his fingers into her neck, cutting off her air, while his other hand worked her belt out of her pants loops. His gaze held hers with a hard expression. “The sooner you decide to cooperate, the better off you’ll be.”

Candy started barking and Spring sat up on the couch, awakening just as he released her and stepped away with the belt in his hands.

“Chloe?” Spring said, eyes wide with concern as they bounced from Skye to Sebastian.

There was his smile again, which he only seemed capable of giving to Spring. “Everything’s ok. Your sister and I just need to have a serious conversation.” He glanced back at Skye, pointed to the door of the room, and although he was still smiling, with deep, apostrophe-shaped dimples, the light of his smile didn’t make it to his eyes when he looked at her. “In the hallway. Unless you want to be the one to explain all of this to her, right here, right now.”

Skye drew a deep breath. “I’ll be outside the door; ok, honey?”

Spring nodded, wide-eyed and uncertain.

As they stepped into the hallway, Pete stepped to the side, giving them space. “Your bullshit story just wasted twenty minutes of my time, because I had to explain more things to Doctor Cavanaugh. You see, medical professionals have to take all kinds of crazy people seriously, and that means even you. Look,” he said, as his eyes suddenly weren’t angry or frustrated. He was calm, and his tone was matter of fact. He was within touching distance of her, but his arms were folded.

“If you run from the marshals’ interrogation, all you’re going to do is make them take you seriously, when this morning you weren’t even a blip on their radar. Just tell them what you’ve told me. Tell the marshals that you don’t know where your father is. Tell them you don’t know who those kidnappers were, that you don’t know why anyone would want to kidnap you. That’s your story, right?” He arched an eyebrow and was silent as he waited for her response.

“Yes, and it’s not a story. It’s the truth.”

He studied her face, his lips pressed together in a thin line of disapproval. “You lie worse than you fight. When you lie, you put this flat expression on your face, when normally your thoughts are transparent. In different circumstances, it would be amusing. Problem is, the fact that you’re rotten at both fighting and lying doesn’t keep you from throwing crappy punches and lying as much as you breathe. What the hell has you so afraid?”

“More men like this morning,” she said, not lying at all.

His gaze was both sharp and skeptical. “If you don’t know who they are, or why they were sent, why are you so sure that there are more men like them?”

“My father’s skill set is a highly-coveted commodity,” she said, heart pounding with the force of what she was saying, because it was the truth. “Don’t you get that? Someone has him, and now they want us.”

Sebastian arched an eyebrow and gave her a slow headshake. “Most people, including the authorities, believe that your father’s claims are the product of a deranged mind.”

“That’s what the uninformed believe,” she said, her cheeks burning with the need to defend her father. “But they turn on their computers and use software that he designed, without even thinking about how his brilliant mind made the innovations that they now rely upon for things that we take for granted in every day life. Anti-viral software. Encryption technology. Data storage. It’s easy to forget that someone is a genius, when there are articles in tabloids that were planted by men who tried to discredit him. His claims are dead-on accurate.”

And, she thought, in certain circles, upper-echelon circles that were only entered by those with the highest of clearances, her father had created a firestorm by creating technology that would allow integration of the world’s most sensitive databases and assimilation of the information in those databases at the speed of light. Now that the cataclysm scenario was in play, the end goal for her, if her father gave her the signal, was to go straight to the top.

And straight to the top does not mean spilling her father’s secrets to a private investigator.

“Tell me how, Skye. Just tell me how something he designed or was working on could be a reason for him to escape from prison. Something real. Not the bullshit he fed the world. He never worked with the government. He claimed to have created Shadow Technology, technology that allows super-assimilation of data collection, but the government says it doesn’t exist. Give me something solid to go on, because in case you haven’t figured this out—no one has a clue as to where your father is.”

His eyes were hard, yet his tone, as it had been whenever he had spoken to her, was low, controlled, and compelling. The man was a master at using his voice to get others to listen to him. “Tell me what is so important that he would escape prison now. Because there’s one certainty that I can give you—he will be found, and his prison term will be extended. Hell, they might just throw away the key.”

She couldn’t. The cataclysm scenario was in play, and if she told Sebastian anything about what that entailed, she’d never be able to break away from him. Everything having to do with cataclysm was top secret. “He didn’t escape. Someone kidnapped him. There are people in the world—countries, even—who value his capabilities-”

“Do you hear how freaking preposterous that sounds? Kidnapped from a federal prison? How and by whom? Escaping is almost impossible, and,” he paused, “based on what? You think the Chinese sent a band of computer experts to kidnap your father? In case you haven’t gotten the memo, he’s been thoroughly discredited. He’s a criminal, who is ranting and raving about things that don’t exist or even make sense.”

Inwardly, she flinched. Skye hated that the world ridiculed her father, and evidently, Sebastian was no different. Outwardly, she didn’t let him see anything other than cool and calm. She could play his game. “You sound like all the other small-minded, ignorant people, who can’t understand the importance of my father’s work. Trust me. Someone kidnapped him, and if they get me and my sister, he’ll do whatever they want him to do. He can change the world, or terrorize it, with carefully orchestrated keystrokes.”