Page 103 of A Light in the Darkness
I don’t realize I said it out loud this time. The same thought has played a loop in my mind for over an hour, trying to figure out how our rescue mission went so wrong for the person we were there for.
“They got their hooks in her.” Kent says, his voice thick and throaty. When I glance up at him, surprised that he heard me, I can see tears in his eyes and grief written on his face. He’s trying to hide it, but I can see it in the set of his jaw and the way it trembles despite how hard he’s trying to keep it still. “She wasn’t happy to see me. It was like I was the bad guy… she didn’t even seem to recognize me.”
He drops his head in his hands and rakes his fingers against his scalp, trying to contend with what he’s saying. “She set us up.” His words are muffled until he picks his head up to look at me again, though his eyes are distant, like he’s back there trying to map out how it all went down. “There were two men out there, waiting. Remy got on the bus and the first guy fired two shots. I tried to protect Libby when the other one came at us, but he wasn’t going for her. He was trying tohelpher. I put him down, made to check on Boudreaux. She shot me just as Rich joined us. He… he killed her.”
I’m incredibly still, void of the capacity to feel his grief, to sympathize with his loss. It’s wrong. If what he’s saying is true and she’s a victim of Stockholm syndrome, it’s not her fault that she betrayed us. But that doesn’t let me forgive her. And it doesn’t make whatever her job was with those children any better.
I don’t dare say as much to Kent. The fact that he moved to Remy’s aid rather than staying behind to wallow in his grief is the only proof of his character I need. I simply hang my own head, massaging the furious ache in my temples.
When the nurse returns, I look up to find Kent pacing back and forth, a cell phone pressed against his ear. She scowls at him before turning to hand me a bundle of something. She holds it out for a minute before I take it, and when I do, I recognize them as a clean set of scrubs.
“What about Remy?” I demand. “The other one I came in with? They took him back—”
“To surgery.” She nods. “It will probably be a minute before we know anything. Are you family?”
I open my mouth to say that I’m his girlfriend, but I’m not sure that’s ever been true. It seems like such a strange title, not enough to convey everything that we’ve been through together. Kent answers before I ever come to any sort of conclusion.
“She’s his wife.”
I jump at the hand on my shoulder, so deep in my thoughts that I forgot I’m not alone here, despite how much it feels like it. My head is swimming with the amount of people who have popped out of the woodwork and shown up here in the middle of nowhere to just… wait in this room.
I don’t know how long it’s been since we got here, but I know that it’s all blurred together, and my head hurts and my eyes burn. I turn to find Kent nodding his head down the hall, where Rhea has just run through the doors with Dimitri at her heels.
Everything in me wilts at the sight of her tears, and when she wraps me in her arms, I crumble. If there’s anyone besides Remy that I can fall apart on, it’s Rhea. My freaking father, my twin sister, Wes. I don’t have a relationship with any of them, and despite everything Kent and I have been through together in the last twenty-four hours, I can’t bring myself to break down in front of him… not when he lost his wife again, after all these years.
But Rhea is a safe space. My sister, more than the one who shares my blood. We escape to the room that Kent has routinely been dragging me out of—the one where Wes is situated with Violet at his side. It takes me a moment to remember that I didn’t relay this information to Rhea yet, so when she stops dead inside the doorway, I think it’s Wes that she’s confused by.
“Hello, sister.” Wes smirks, stepping away from Remy’s bedside. “You look good.”
Rhea doesn’t even snap back at him, her attitude quelled by the mindfuck I didn’t think to warn her about. I haven’t said more than two words to Violet—I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. And I think she feels the same way. She doesn’t look at me with contempt or sadness or anything, but she doesn’t look at me like there are so many things she wants to say.
“This is my wife, Violet.” Wes explains, gesturing to the woman at his side, who manages a small smile for Rhea. “Violet, this is my sister, Rhea.”
“Don’t fucking call me that.” Rhea breathes, turning from the twisted duo to me as I wipe the tears I let fall. “Claire?”
“Meet my sister.” I tell her quietly. I think her head may explode, so I decide to get it all out of the way at the start. “My father is out there, too.”
“Your—what?”
“Mmhmm.” I nod, not knowing how to make it any less weird for her. It’s bizarre to me, and I’m living with the knowledge.
“I’m… so confused.” Rhea splutters, turning back to the two of them.
Wes pats her on the shoulder as he passes. “Don’t worry, sis. There’ll be plenty of time to catch up later. And I’m looking forward to it.”
He grins at me, though it looks less menacing than ever, and I catch Violet’s eye just before she follows him out the door. This time, she does look like she has something she wants to say, but her scarred cheeks tip up a little, gracing me with a soft smile instead.
As soon as they’re gone, Rhea shuts the door and lets out a long breath, rubbing her temples. “I have so many questions,” she breathes. “What are they doing here?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, which feels extraordinarily dry. “I don’t know who called them. They just showed up, but Wes…” I sigh. “Wes saved his life.”
There’s a long pause where she stares at me, waiting for the punchline. But it isn’t coming, because I’m telling the truth. I scrub my hands over my face, like maybe that will wake me up a little. I’ve never been so tired, but sleep is the last thing I want to do.
“When he got here, Remy was still in surgery. Nobody would tell me anything, but he started asking questions, dropping names. Next thing I know, they gave him privileges to scrub in and he just… disappeared. When he came out, he was in full surgical gear, and he said it went well.” I choke on a laugh, not because it’s funny, but because I feel like I slipped into some sort of alternate reality.
Rhea’s gaze turns to her brother, the other forgotten as she approaches his bed and sinks down to her knees. “They let him operate?”
“This isn’t a trauma center. They weren’t prepared for the level of care he needed.”
