Blind Ambition (21 page)

A sob broke loose and Alexa gave up trying to hold back her tears. The familiar sense of guilt lodged deep in her gut, running her through like a sword. “Two boys held her down, one of them covering her mouth with his hand, while the third one lay on top of her…” Alexa couldn’t finish. She wanted to curl up and die. She hadn’t let herself relive that night in so long. Could hardly bear how the memories carved her up inside. But then what was her pain compared to what her sister had gone through? Nothing.
I’m so sorry, Des.

“Oh, God, baby.” Dan released her hand and laid his arm over her shoulder, moving until his hip touched hers. His fingers stroked her hair. “Shhh. You don’t need to tell me more. It’s okay.”

“It’s
not
okay.” She shook loose and stood to face him, her breath coming hard and fast. How could he comfort her after what she’d done? “Don’t you see? It’s my fault. I convinced her to go to the party and then abandoned her. After the rape, she wouldn’t let me tell anyone, wouldn’t talk about it. Those boys got away with it. She never recovered. She killed herself two weeks later. And it’s because of me. Because I wanted to kiss some stupid boy who saw me as nothing more than a conquest.” Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper as she repeated, “It’s my fault.”

He stared at her for several seconds, his eyes dark, his face unreadable. “No, it’s not.”

“How can you say that?” She wanted to scream at him, but was just aware enough to remember the baby in her arms and the people in the other rooms.

“You were
fifteen
. Girls sneak off to parties to make out with boys all the time.” He made an impatient noise. “If it’s your fault, then your sister is as much to blame as you. And the
only
people who deserve your hatred are the assholes who hurt her.”

“But I’m the one—”

“
Lys
,” he said, hard and angry and loud. “You did nothing wrong.”

“But…” No one had ever said that to her before. No one else even knew what happened besides her and Des and the three boys who had run away at Alexa’s arrival. Tyler had given her and Des a ride home, but thought Alexa wanted to leave because he’d pushed her too far.

“I might not have been able to stop the rape, but I should have been able to stop her suicide. I should have seen it coming.”

“Why?” Dan asked. “Were you trained to recognize the signs? Had she tried to kill herself before?”

“No, but—”

“No matter how well we know someone, we never really know what’s going on in their head. You need to give yourself a break, Alexa. None of what happened is your fault.”

He was wrong. He had to be.

Esther started crying, and Dan stood, taking the little girl from Alexa’s arms and cradling her against his big shoulder with his free hand. “You know, when my sister died, I thought I was to blame too.”

Her eyes met his haunted gaze. “I thought she had leukemia. How could you have anything to do with that?”

He laughed bitterly. “You can always find a way to feel guilty. A few days before we found out she was sick, I told her I wished I didn’t have a sister. She was always pestering me to play with her, coming into my room when I wanted to be alone, bothering me when I had friends over. I just snapped. She started crying and I immediately felt bad and apologized, but then she got cancer and it was like someone had taken my wish seriously. I prayed to whatever God might listen, desperately explaining that I didn’t mean it, that I had been angry.” His brows came together. “But she still died.

“My parents blamed themselves, wondering if they had missed early signs, or fed her the wrong foods, or exposed her to some chemical without knowing it. It ate away at them, destroyed their marriage. My dad took off, and my mom found her comfort with Jim Beam.” He cast his eyes down. “I thought their divorce was my fault too. After all, I killed my sister. I ruined their relationship. I wasn’t enough to keep them together.”

Alexa ached for that misguided little boy. “Dan…”

“Thank God for my grandmother,” he said, his voice transformed by love. “She took in an angry, hurt twelve-year-old and made him whole again. I never would have survived without her.”

“She sounds amazing.” Alexa loved her already. For saving Dan, and helping him become the incredible man he was now. “But Despina’s death was different.” Her voice had gone soft. “I really did set everything in motion.”

He shook his head and sighed. “I finally get it.” He jerked his chin in her direction. “It’s your penance, right? But how many people do you have to save before it’s enough, Lys? Will it ever be enough?”

“How could it be?” No matter how many she helped, her sister wasn’t coming back.

“Exactly. And you’re not the only one paying the price.”

“I know.” She cringed. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

His face darkened and his lips went flat. “Don’t apologize to me. Just do something about it. You owe it to yourself—and to that little girl you plan to adopt—to find a way past the guilt. If you can’t, you’re going to poison everything good in your life.” His voice softened. “Even if you won’t be with me, I want you to be happy, Lys. You deserve to be happy. But only you can figure out how.”

She stood mute, unable to form a coherent response before he walked away.

An hour later, the sun shone brightly on the winding road to Sancoins, as Dan, Todd, and Jason drove the children in three separate cars toward an orphanage that had agreed to take them. Dan listened to Alexa breathe in the seat next to him. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t sleeping. She was probably avoiding him.

Other than the necessary communication to get Carter and Flore settled in the back seat, she hadn’t said a word to him since he walked away from her.

What was she thinking about? He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to give up the guilt that she’d owned for more than a decade. And he finally understood why she thought she couldn’t have a long-term relationship with him—or maybe just anyone, because he wasn’t much of a catch—but he would not retreat back into his protective pride.

If she understood that he loved her no matter what, would she be willing to get the help she desperately needed to move forward with her life in a healthy way?

She loved him. He was almost sure of it. Or at least she would if she’d allow herself to.

He sighed and tried to rein in his frustration. He was a fixer, a doer. A man who patched up broken people and got them to safety. But he couldn’t fix Alexa’s mind. He couldn’t
do
anything except keep her safe and hope she took his advice to get counseling.

And wait. He had put all of his cards on the table. Her move.

In the back seat, the children snuffled in sleep as the car—Kurt had lined up three sedans for them, complete with infant seats—bounced along the rutted, potholed asphalt. Within ten minutes, they were at the edge of town and Dan had located the address.

The day was shaping up warm and humid—what a surprise—and the car didn’t have air conditioning. The smells through his open window changed from sea air and damp earth to wet asphalt, rotting trash, and enticing spices as they entered the haphazardly laid-out neighborhood with its mix of homes and small stores.

All three cars killed their engines in front of the two-story, whitewashed cube of a house that perched on a hill at the top of the street, at least a hundred yards from its nearest neighbor. Jason hopped out into the sunlight, while the others waited, engines off.

Toys were scattered around the front yard and laundry fluttered on a line off to the side of the house.

A slim woman in a pale dress emerged from the building and met their emissary on the sagging front porch. Dan scanned the street for threats.

“Where are we?” Flore asked from the back seat, her voice hoarse from sleep.

Alexa’s eyes glittered with tears as she turned to the girl. “This is the new children’s home,” she said softly, with a glance at Carter, who slept at an awkward angle against the car door.

Dan covered her slim hand with his own. Here he’d been thinking that she was acting weird because of their earlier conversation, not even considering that she was hurting because she had to say goodbye to Flore and the other children.
Way to go, asshole.

“I don’t want to go,” Flore said.

A tear slipped down Alexa’s cheek and she put a death grip on Dan’s fingers, reaching for Flore with her free hand. “I know, sweetie, but this is the only way. I’m trying to speed up the process, and I’ll come visit every day until we hear from the adoption bureau. Okay?”

The little girl frowned, but nodded, her face solemn. Jesus, she’d been through so much. He couldn’t help but admire her strength. If only there were something he could do to help her. To help all of these children.

Maybe he understood a little of what drove Alexa. Not everything she did was about penance or reparation. Sometimes it was just about helping others.
That
he got. It was why he’d become a PJ. He hadn’t always succeeded at his work, but no feeling in the world could quite match saving a life.

“How much longer?” Flore asked, her voice tight with angst. She coughed. “Will they be able to keep the soldiers away?”

Alexa glanced at him, her eyebrows drawn together, then turned back to the girl and gripped her hand. “You’ll be safe here. The rebels don’t come into Sancoins.”

That was mostly true. They occasionally staged small, targeted assaults in the city with one or two men, but so far they’d kept to the smaller villages where they found more support from the locals. Though with the assault on Terre Verte, they were stepping up the game. St. Isidore’s government needed to do something quickly or they faced a coup.

Figuring out a way to bring jobs would go a long way. Gainfully employed citizens were generally too content to revolt. But how did you convince people to invest in a country that had so many problems? There was a Catch-22 if he’d ever heard one. He didn’t envy President Desmarais his job.

Flore nodded at Alexa and looked down at her hands. She probably understood the fickle ways of the island better than either he or Alexa could imagine. There was a wisdom in her big, brown eyes that he wouldn’t wish on any child.

Outside, Jason signaled to them. Dan climbed out of the car and opened the back door to remove the still-sleeping Carter from his booster seat.

Next to the boy, Flore coughed and sucked in a wheezing breath.

“Sweetie,” Alexa said. “Do you have your inhaler?”

The girl shook her head. “They took it,” she said, her voice strangled.

Dan caught Alexa’s gaze and her eyes widened. Maybe they had an inhaler in the orphanage. “I’m on it,” he said, hefting Carter and racing toward the house.

DAN VAULTED DOWN THE STAIRS and sprinted to the car empty-handed. “Nothing,” he said. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“You know where it is?” Alexa asked as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Same place it was three years ago.”

“Let me get in back.” Alexa ran around the car, tossed Carter’s booster seat onto the grass, and scooted in next to Flore. As soon as the lock on her seatbelt clicked, Dan swung the car in a tight backward arc and then gunned it down the street.

Flore’s breath sawed in and out of her lungs as she gasped for oxygen. The horrifying noise stopped Alexa’s heart.

“
Flore
.” She leaned closer. “It’s okay, honey.” She laid her palm between Flore’s shoulder blades and gently stroked down her back. “I’m here, baby. Try to relax.”

The girl looked up with wide eyes, her face gray under her dark skin. She had to be scared out of her mind.

“Sweetie,” Alexa said, smoothing back Flore’s hair. “We’re going to get help. Just hang on.”

Flore nodded and sucked in a desperate, groaning breath that made her sound like a zombie in a low-budget movie.

Damn the guards for taking the girl’s meds. Alexa leashed her frustration—Flore would pick up on her angst—and continued her soft caresses. “I know you’re scared, honey, but this will pass. I’m here now. I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

If only she could keep that promise.

She willed her voice to be steady. “Close your eyes and think of your favorite place in the whole world.” Alexa closed her own eyes and took a slow breath. “You’re there right now, smiling, happy. Breathing is easy. It’s like, in this place, your lungs want to open up wide and inhale all the fresh, wonderful air.

“Can you feel your muscles relaxing? Can you feel your chest loosening to let in the sweet, pure oxygen?” Words weren’t medicine, but what other option did she have? Panicking amplified the effects of an attack, so calming should ease them, at least a little. Hopefully enough to give her and Dan the time they needed to get help.

“Five minutes,” he said.

A lifetime.

Flore’s wheezing sounded painful but it was better than “silent chest,” a quieting of the harsh breathing due to increased airway constriction.

Still, every breath the girl took gutted Alexa. Just like with Despina and Garfield, there was nothing Alexa could do but watch her suffer, a little piece of her dying with every tortured inhalation, every cough. All of her training and knowledge were useless.

Had she really thought she could make up for her sister’s suffering by working for Hygiea? Go out and save the world? Who was she kidding? She couldn’t even save this little girl.

But she had to try. So she kept talking and stroking and soothing, doing everything in her power to calm Flore.

She ignored how they bounced and jostled on the crappy road and focused all of her energy on the child who’d stolen her heart. The child she selfishly hoped wouldn’t have any extended family to claim her, because Alexa wanted to take her to the States where she could provide the reliable medical care—and clean environment—Flore needed.

Maybe she was a hypocrite, trying to save the rest of the children from the very fate she wanted for Flore. But those kids had families who wanted them back. And they didn’t have special medical needs that couldn’t be met in St. Isidore. They needed food and clean water, and the island needed its children to secure its future.