Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(214)
“Oh my God,” Vera breathed as Layne felt his chest squeeze.
“Rocky, what was dark?” he whispered.
She kept shaking her head. “It was so dark.”
“What was dark, honey?”
“I hid, I hid, I hid when I should have helped her. I hid in the dark,” Rocky whispered.
“You hid,” Layne said quietly, inching toward her, “You hid when Carson Fisher came?”
She started nodding then, her head moving in a rhythm, uncontrolled, bobbing up and down, Rocky was gone, the woman she was was not there. She’d slid back twenty-four years.
Layne felt Devin’s presence hit the room but he didn’t turn and Rocky didn’t notice him.
“Yes, when he came. She heard his car. She came to my room. She woke me up and told me to call 911. She told me to hide. She told me to hide.” Her head jerked back and she stopped pacing, the look on her face searing into his soul when she whispered, “I did what I was told.”
“Baby, you did what you were told. You called 911. You hid. You did the right thing.”
“I should have helped her.”
“You couldn’t have helped her.”
“She was shouting.”
Layne was moving closer but stopped when Rocky noticed it, took a huge step back and started visibly trembling.
“Baby, you couldn’t have helped her.”
“He hurt her before he shot her,” Rocky whispered.
Fuck, f**k, he knew that, he’d read the report. Carson Fisher had spent some time with Cecilia Merrick. Not much, he didn’t have it. But he needed the evidence that Cecilia had so he tried torturing her to get it, he did a messy job of it in his haste and the results were unpleasant.
Cecilia had lived through it though, and died when she took a bullet to the face.
Layne just didn’t know Rocky knew it.
Fuck.
“He hurt her and she was screaming.”
“Honey, come here.”
“I didn’t help, I hid, I hid and it was so dark.”
“Baby, please, come here.”
“The eaves,” she whispered, she was rocking her torso side to side, her arms sliding along her belly and holding tight, “Dad hated it when the birds got up there so he sealed it tight. I went out the little door to the eaves and it was so dark.”
“Rocky, please, baby, come here.”
“I went there, like a coward, and listened in the dark while she screamed.”
“Rocky –”
“All alone.”
“Rocky –”
“I left her all alone.”
“Roc –”
Her hands suddenly went straight down, balled into fists and she shrieked, “I left her all alone! He hurt her, I left her all alone! And she knew I could hear that! She died knowing I could hear that. She knew! My Momma. Sheknewsheknewsheknew.”
Layne moved forward fast, caught her in his arms but she struggled, yanked free and ran to the corner, pressing her side to it, she twisted to him, hand up, eyes on him.
“Don’t touch me,” she whispered and he watched her body tremble.
“Ma, call Doc,” Layne ordered, not taking his eyes off Rocky and Vera didn’t say a word but he knew she left the room, he saw Rocky’s eyes follow her. “Rocky, baby, you aren’t yourself,” he told her, moving again slowly and her eyes shot back to him. “This is called post-traumatic stress, honey. You aren’t yourself. This isn’t then, this is now, you’re safe.”
She shook her head. “No, no I’m not.”
“You’re safe, baby, nothing is ever gonna hurt you.”
“No, no, I’m not safe. You’re not safe.”
“I’m safe, Rocky.”
“No,” she kept shaking her head. “It isn’t right. It could have been right but it isn’t right now. Not now. It’s worse than before. A lot worse. We could have had time but I f**ked up.”
“Honey –”
Her head still shaking she talked over him. “I can’t make you do that.”
She started sliding down the wall, her knees to her chest, her hand still lifted as if to fend him off.
“I can’t make you do that,” she repeated.
Layne crouched in front of her two feet away.
“Baby, can’t make me do what?” he whispered.
“Lose me,” she whispered back.
“You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he told her.
“I’m going to die.”
Layne’s body froze.
Then he whispered, “What?”
“She was thirty-nine when she died. That’s next year for me, Layne.”
“Rocky –”
“That’s what I’m going to get, for not helping her. I’m going to die when she died. I know, I’ve always known, I’ll never make it. I’ll never make it. I knew what it would feel like to lose you and I knew you’d feel the same way if you lost me. Like Dad. You’d be like Dad. If we had the chance to have a life, I knew you’d never move on.” Her hand dropped and she wrapped both arms around her legs but her eyes didn’t leave his, they were burning into him and his chest was burning, his throat and he could do nothing but hold her eyes. “I left you to give you a life, baby,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, the tears hitting her eyes, sliding down, silent. “I wanted you to have a life.”