Page 79 of Give Me Strength

Gilbert,

I had to go in to work. There’s food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. The guest room is ready, if you need more privacy. Or even a decent night’s sleep.

I called Terri, and she’ll take care of your appointments for the day. Tomorrow’s too. They’ll either be canceled or rescheduled, so don’t worry about that.

Take all the time you need.

Sheila

I set the note down, feeling a pang of gratitude for her. But the hollow ache in my chest remains. I walk to the kitchen and open the fridge, but the thought of eating turns my stomach. Instead, I grab a glass of water and return to the living room and sink back onto the couch, my thoughts swirling. I close my eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Exhaustion pulls me under once more, and a few minutes turns into another hour of restless sleep. Maybe more.

Sometime later, several insistent knocks on the door startle me back awake, and I drag myself to answer it. I open the door to find Bonnie standing there with her fist clenched, ready to knock again, but her expression is neutral.

“Good afternoon, sleepy head.” She steps inside without waiting for an invitation. “Sheila called me. Said you might need someone to check on you. Which you do.” She looks me up and down. “You look like shit.”

I manage a weak smile as I close the door and follow her into the living room. Bonnie glances around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings. “Nice hideout you’ve got here. Did you pick this place so it would be harder for us to find you?”

“Maybe subconsciously,” I admit, feeling a pang of guilt for hiding out here. “How is she?”

“Sedated,” she deadpans.

“Why?”

Bonnie sighs, a deep, heavy sound. “Let’s see. She’s devastated. She feels betrayed and used and hurt. And she wants answers from you. She tried calling you, but it went straight to voicemail. So she tried to follow you, but one thing led to another, and…” she trails off, shrugging as she sits down on the couch and gestures for me to do the same.

I sink into the couch, feeling the exhaustion settle in again. “I never meant to hurt her. I thought I was protecting her.”

“I know you did,” she says gently. “But, umm… you about Leland, don’t you? About what he did to her?”

The question pierces me, and a fresh wave of guilt washing over me. “I saw the case files.”

“Then you know. What he said and did to her. And why she said what she said.” She shakes her head. “That’s the pesky thing about secrets. They always have a way of coming out, especially secrets like that. And they always cause more harm than good when they do.”

“I know,” I whisper, feeling the weight of my actions more acutely than ever.

A beat passes, then she adds, “Rachel’s mother showed up to one of Lynn’s dance competitions ten years ago, in Minneapolis. Lynn was eight at the time. ”

“Rachel never told me about that.”

“She didn’t want you to worry,” Bonnie quickly adds. “And since I know you want details, here it goes. Some dance magazine — I don’t remember which one — published an article on Lynn, and Rachel’s mother saw read. Well, a picture of Rachel and Lynn was included with the article, plus the usual teacher student stuff. I don’t know how Rachel’s mother made the connection between Rachel and Hannah, but she showed up at that dance competition demanding to see, and I quote, ‘the harlot who is corrupting my daughter’.” She puts air quotes around the words, a sinister smile playing on her lips. “Security kicked her out but she managed to sneak back in somehow. Then Rachel saw her talking to Lynn backstage just before she was to go on, offering her a lollipop, of all things.”

My blood runs cold at that. “Ash didn’t eat it, did she?”

“Of course not,” she says with a dry laugh. “Lynn is smarter than that. Rachel waited until after Lynn went up on stage to have her mother arrested. And yes, the lollipop was laced with Rohypnol, as we later found out. Rachel took out a restraining order against her, enforceable everywhere in the US. She went to jail for two years, and Rachel still sued her. Her mom and your dad settled out of court and had those records sealed because, as you know, they didn’t want the other stuff getting out.

“To be honest, I don’t know how much of it Lynn remembers. She was young then, and Rachel and Hannah did their best to shield her from it. Unfortunately, Rachel’s mother is still fixated on Lynn, and she still pops up at some of her dance competitions — occasionally with your dad in tow, and those damn lollipops. That fixation didn’t end after Rachel died, that’s why Russ or myself go with Lynn to all of her dance competitions. Russ sends out Rachel’s mother’s picture to all of the organizers ahead of time. She stopped showing up a few months ago, not long before Everett… died.” She pauses at that, a thought occurring to her. Then she shakes her head and continues, “Anyway, I looked into it, and she died. Mysterious circumstances, they said.” More air quotes. “And your dad’s in jail too, for killing her. Supposedly.” Another pause, then, “That son of a bitch.”

My brain’s a little slow to catch up. “You don’t think…”

“I don’t think, Gilbert. I know.” She blows out a frustrated breath. “Everett was stateside for a week with his unit, tracking an international drug trafficking husband-wife duo. Your dad’s name came up as one of their associates, and Rachel’s mother was found dead the next day. The official record states that she is a casualty of a drug war, but someone still had to pay for it.” Her fists curl up into balls on her lap. “It’s just like Everett to do something like that, and in a way that Lynn would never find out. I always knew there was a heart in there somewhere, underneath that absentee father crap. Bastard.” She turns to me. “National security aside, Lynn can not know about that, no matter what.”

“That her dad killed someone for her? I would’ve done the same thing, given the opportunity.”

She pins me with a look. “You’ve never killed anyone.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” I force out between clenched teeth.

Granted, it doesn’t excuse my not telling Ash about it, but knowing that the bastard is behind bars, it does make it easier to tell her. We sit in silence for a while, the gravity of the situation settling in. I feel a little better having Bonnie here, but the road ahead still feels impossibly long and fraught with uncertainty.

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