All Chained Up (Devil's Rock #1)(27)

“Thank you, but no. I’ll be fine. Really. It could have been so much worse. I’m just grateful we’re all okay.”

Dr. Walker nodded and said the name that had been circling around in her mind all night. “Callaghan,” he marveled. “He saved us. He saved you from—”

“I know,” she cut in. Not because she didn’t want to discuss Callaghan but because she didn’t want to give voice to what had almost happened to her. She actually did want to talk about Knox.

She wanted to make certain he wasn’t in any trouble. When he had been dragged from the HSU, there didn’t seem to be any distinction made between him and the other inmates. She had hammered that point exhaustively to prison officials when she was interrogated about the attack—that Knox Callaghan was not only innocent but responsible for saving their lives.

“You spoke to the people from the prison?” she asked.

“Have no fear, I was quite vocal regarding his heroics.”

She sighed with relief. She had given a full accounting as well, but she was hoping the doctor and presumably Josiah’s testimony added weight. The image of Callaghan being dragged away burned through her mind. She hated the idea that he could be stuck in segregation again . . . or punished in any other way.

“How are you getting home?” Mrs. Walker asked.

“I called my neighbor. She’s waiting out in the hall.” No way would she have called her sister. Hopefully, Laurel would never have to know what happened.

“You get lots of rest, dear.” Mrs. Walker gave her that pitying smile again.

“Thank you.” She turned back to her boss. “Take care of yourself, too, Dr. Walker.”

With another smile that made her face ache, she ducked out of the hospital room. Shelley waited in the corridor where she had left her.

“Sorry. That took longer than I thought. They practically wanted to admit me overnight.”

Shelley frowned, pushing off the wall as she eyed Briar’s face. “Are you sure you shouldn’t—”

“Not you, too. I need a shower and my bed. That’s all.”

Shelley nodded, her dark eyes still bright with concern. “Have you eaten anything? Want me to stop and pick you up some food—”

“No, I can eat something at home.” Not that she had much of an appetite anyway. “Thanks for coming to get me. Who’s watching the kids?”

“Mrs. Gupta from downstairs is with them.”

Briar nodded distractedly. “That’s nice of her.”

“She doesn’t mind. She loves the kids.”

The night was considerably cooler than when they’d arrived by ambulance to the hospital. They walked outside to Shelley’s car in the parking lot. Thankfully, her friend held her peace on the drive home, not prying into the day’s events beyond what she had already been told.

Clearly, she sensed Briar’s need for silence. That was why Briar had called Shelley. She was easy. No judgment. No pestering. Dread washed over her at the thought of Laurel ever learning of the day’s events. Briar didn’t relish hearing her say: “I told you so.”

Soon Shelley was parking in front of their building and they walked together up the second flight of stairs to their doors.

“Sure you don’t need anything?” Shelley asked, pausing with Briar outside their doors. “If you don’t want to be alone you could stay the night with us. The kids would love to wake up and find you there. I can make pancakes in the morning.”

Briar shook her head. Right now the empty solace of her apartment beckoned. She wanted to close the door and lock herself away from the world. “No, I’m okay, really.”

“All right. Touch base with me tomorrow so I don’t worry about you, okay?” Shelley stepped forward and hugged her, patting her on the back several times before letting her go.

Once inside, Briar collapsed against the length of her door for a long moment, reveling in the humming silence. She was home. She was safe and in one piece. Thanks to Knox Callaghan. Knox Callaghan, who clearly possessed a noble streak and happened to be still locked up in that prison. It seemed vastly unfair that he was still in there with men like Gronsky and Pritchard.

Pushing off the door, she hurried to her bathroom and stripped off her scrubs. She kicked them in the corner, positive she would never wear them again.

She hesitated in front of her floor-length mirror, her gaze traveling over her ravaged face before slipping down, fixing on the bruises on her arms. Four perfectly delineated fingerprints marked each forearm.

Her face crumpled. Tears broke free from her burning eyes. She couldn’t hold them back any longer. Naked, she slid down the wall, watching her anguished reflection in the mirror. She wrapped her arms around her knees and wept, wiping at her wet cheeks and snotty nose. She cried for what had happened, for what she had almost become today. A victim. Just like her mother.

And she cried for Knox Callaghan still locked up in that prison.





ELEVEN


KNOX STEPPED INTO the room, not fully understanding what was happening. The room was familiar, as were the people sitting behind the table, staring at him and making him feel like he was something being examined beneath a microscope. He’d been brought to this same place four months ago for his first parole hearing, where they had resoundingly rejected his release.