Color of Forgiveness (46 page)

“Okay,” she whispers.

It fucking kills him to have to leave her.
His eyes take in her face, soaking up every inch of it. Leaning
forward, he kisses her on the forehead and turns, walking out the
front door. When he gets into his truck, he looks up to see her
standing at the door, watching him. It rips his heart out to see
her like that. Slowly, he backs out of the driveway, keeping his
eyes on her as long as he possibly can.

Pulling up to a stoplight, he rests his head
against the steering wheel. This shit just feels wrong. He
shouldn’t be leaving her. But how can he take her with him when
everything is so fucked up between them? And he knows all this
stress isn’t good for the baby, look what happened to Sabrina. If
he loses this baby too… his eyes start to water just thinking about
it. It makes him sick to think of the stress he’s put Myra under
for the last couple of days. He’s been an asshole and barely
spoken. Someone honks, pulling him out of his thoughts. He looks up
and sees the light has turned green.

As he starts driving again, he thinks about
his family. He
has
to go to them. They need him… but he
needs Myra more. He slams his palm against the steering wheel in
frustration.

After driving for about another twenty
minutes, he pulls over to the side of the road, his chest aching.
He can’t drive another fucking mile away from Myra. He can’t do it.
He turns off the truck and just sits there not knowing what to do
next. His eyes wander, and he does a double take. He’s pulled up
next to an old cemetery, the kind that’s not marked… just a few old
head stones scattered about with a fence around it.

His heart pounds as he gets out of the
truck. He falls to his knees, removes his hat and looks up to the
sky. “Mel, are you there? If you can hear me, ‘lil buddy, we need
to talk.” Overcome with emotion, his lip starts to quiver. He
clears his throat, trying to loosen the lump stuck in it. “I
usually only talk to you at your grave, but I don’t have time to
drive there right now so I hope this is all right. Remember when I
told you about me and your mom breaking up? Well, I’ve met someone.
Someone that I think you’d really like. Her name’s Myra.

“And something, well, something kinda crazy
has happened. I never wanted to be a dad again because what you and
I had was so special. I didn’t want to lose that, those memories we
had. I didn’t plan this, but you’re gonna be a big brother.” A
small smile touches his lips as he stares up at the sky. He blinks
and a tear streaks down his face. “You’d have made a great big
brother, Mel, the best. But I’ve been having a hard time with this
because I’m scared. I’m really scared of loving another child
because I feel guilty, like it wouldn’t be right to love another
child without you around. And what if I love this child and end up
losing it like I lost you?” Dylan frowns. “But that’s pretty
selfish of me, isn’t it? This is
your
brother or sister
we’re talking about.”

Dylan looks down at his hat for a moment,
his eyes clouded with tears. “Mel, I gotta do this. I gotta go make
things right. I love her, I love Myra and…” He stops, his brows
pulling together. “I, I didn’t even realize it, until now, but…”
His lip trembles again. “I guess, I didn’t know, but I love this
baby too. I can’t help it, Mel. Because I love
her
, I can’t
help but love this baby.” Dylan wipes his eyes on his sleeve.

“I have to try to be a dad again even though
I’m scared. I’m gonna need help, I know that. I’ve got a doc I’m
talking to. But I need you to know that no matter how much I love
this new baby, no one could ever replace you, ever. You’ll always
be first in my heart. I love you, son, and nothing will ever change
that. So I just wanted to talk to you before I go back there. I’m
gonna work hard on being a good dad to your baby brother or sister.
I’m gonna do that for you, all right? I miss you. I miss you so
much. I wish you were here, more than anything.” He looks up at the
sky and a few raindrops hit his face. He closes his eyes and smiles
as the cool drops run down his face and mix with his tears.

* * *

“Do you want some more coffee?” Myra asks
Porter.

“Fill ‘er up,” he says with a grin as he
hands her his cup. “While you’re doing that, I’ll be right
back.”

Myra smiles and gives him a nod then watches
as he walks down the hallway and into the bathroom. She carries his
cup over to the counter and refills it. Looking up, she stares out
the kitchen window, worrying about Natalie and Dylan and his whole
family. The thought of something happening to Natalie breaks her
heart… What would Chad do? What would those four children do
without their mother? What would Dylan do? That family has seen
enough tragedy. She just hopes and prays that Natalie and little
Jillian are safe.

She wanted to go so badly and she was hurt
when Dylan didn’t want her to go. But she knows he was probably
right. It would have been a stressful trip, and she has to look out
for her own little one before anything else.

She hears a light knocking on the door. As
she walks down the hallway, she picks up the gun that lays hidden
on a side table and tucks it in the pocket of her hoodie. Peering
through the window, a startled gasp escapes her lips when her eyes
meet Sabrina’s.

She has something cradled in her arms. Myra
frowns as she stares at it… and her heart almost explodes from her
chest when she recognizes it. It’s Dylan’s photo album, the one
that was stolen from his house.

CHAPTER 13

Myra gulps her face completely ashen and her
eyes wide as she takes several steps back away from the door. Sharp
breaths escape her slightly gaping mouth as she begins gasping for
air.

Why is Sabrina
here
? Why is she
holding Dylan’s album? Her mind races for answers. The only way
Sabrina could have that photo album is if she stole it. She had to
have been the one that broke into Dylan’s house and vandalized her
car. Is this what she meant when she said she was going to fight
for him? Is she here to try to hurt her?

Backing up a few more steps, Myra’s eyes
stay glued to the door, her breathing ragged, as she tries to
figure out what to do next. But then she remembers Porter and lets
out a huge breath. Releasing her painful grip on the gun in her
hoodie pocket, she closes her eyes for just a moment, trying to get
her racing heartbeat to slow. She had totally forgotten about him,
but he’ll know what to do. He’ll make Sabrina go away and protect
her. Turning on her heel to go get him, she crashes into a large
chest just as Sabrina pounds loudly on the front door again.

A shriek of terror flies from Myra’s
lips.

“Myra, oh my goodness, are you all right?”
Porter asks as he grabs her by the shoulders. “I didn’t mean to
frighten you.” He glances over her shoulder then back at her.
“Who’s at the door?”

Myra’s body trembles so much she can barely
speak. “It’s Sabrina,” she says in between pants. “She’s got
Dylan’s photo album.”

Porter frowns as he reaches down and undoes
the clasp on his gun that hangs from his waist. “Myra, I want you
to go upstairs and lock your bedroom door. Do not come out for any
reason. Are you armed?”

She nods.

“Good. I’m going to give you a safe word,
and I don’t want you opening that door unless you hear me say the
word. Do you understand?”

She nods again, barely able to breathe.

“Okay.” His eyes dart around the living
room. “Our safe word is going to be
Grampie
, okay? You are
to only open that door if I say that word, all right?”

“Okay,” Myra whispers.

Porter nods and squeezes her shoulders
reassuringly. “Now go.”

Myra runs up the stairs as fast as she can,
stumbling slightly in the hallway. Slamming the door to her bedroom
shut, she locks it and backs up slowly, staring at it as her chest
heaves. Her heart pounds so hard she can hear the echo of it in her
ears. She continues backing up until she bumps into the wall.
Slowly, she slides down into a sitting position her eyes never
leaving the door. Pulling out her gun, she flips off the safety and
rests it on the top of her knees… and waits.

* * *

After wiping his face with his shirt, Dylan
stuffs it back in his bag. The rain hits the windshield of his
truck, blurring the glass as it trickles down in tiny rivulets. He
can’t wait to get back to Myra and apologize for the way he’s acted
and tell her how much he loves her and this baby. He has to do it
right now because he can’t wait another second; life is too goddamn
short. He knows that all too well after losing Mel, and now with
Natalie…

His stomach tightens when he thinks of her.
He
has
to figure out a way to go see Natalie. He hopes that
maybe after talking to Myra and getting shit right between them,
he’ll somehow be able to leave her. But that thought alone causes
his chest to ache. He’s not going to worry about any of that shit
right now because he has to be there for Chad and his parents
because he owes them everything. They were there for him every step
of the way when he lost Mel. So he’ll figure something out. Pulling
his phone from his pocket, he dials his mom.

“Dylan…” his mom says, her voice
stressed.

“Hey. How is she?” he asks as he stares out
the window.

“Not good. They were giving her shots to
stop the bleeding, but none of them worked. So the doctors told us
they were going to rush her to the OR for an emergency D&C, but
on the way there, she passed out from the blood loss. I thought
we’d lost her,” Sherri says, her voice breaking. A lump forms in
Dylan’s throat as he runs a hand roughly over his jaw. “She’s going
to need a blood transfusion. She’s in surgery right now. They’re
going to do the D&C and see if it works. But if it doesn’t,
they may have to do a hysterectomy.”

Dylan’s chest tightens to the point that he
can barely breathe. His stomach pitches, the desire to empty it
strong. He roughly clears his throat. “How’s the baby?”

“She’s doing well even though her condition
scares me. Her lungs aren’t developed so they have her in a special
incubator with a hood on it. She’s so tiny; I’ve never seen a baby
that small. She doesn’t even look real. That’s about all I know
right now.”

“And Chad…?”

“He’s terrible, Dylan. He’s a mess. He broke
down when Natalie passed out.”

Dylan’s heart twists uncomfortably in his
chest.

“Nick’s on his way,” she continues, “and
Trish is going to see if she can fly in for a few days but Doug
can’t come. Oh… I forgot to tell you earlier, but Sabrina’s been
calling our phones for some reason. We didn’t take any of the calls
because of everything that’s been going on, but I thought I should
let you know.”

Dylan makes a growling noise and grabs the
steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turn white. “She’s been
calling me too. The police questioned her this morning about the
break-ins so I’m sure that’s why she’s calling. Don’t answer
it.”

“Oh, okay, I won’t. I just can’t talk to her
right now anyway with everything that’s going on with Natalie.”

He hums in agreement before he takes in a
deep breath. “I’m going to be a little late getting there. I’m
about,” he frowns as he tries to peer out the rain-soaked window.
“I don’t know, maybe a half hour away from Nyssa, but I turned
around because I have to go back. Myra wanted to come with me, but…
well, I kind of left things a mess with her. I just can’t… I can’t
leave her like that. I have to go back and talk to her and fix
things and then I’ll be on my way. I’ll try to make up some time on
the road, all right?”

Sherri clears her throat. “I’m so proud of
you, so very proud. Myra needs you and so does this baby.”

Dylan rubs his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

“She told me that she loves you.”

Dylan’s brows pull together. “She did?”

“Yes. She’s very much in love with you.”

A small smile touches Dylan’s lips, those
words confirming that he’s doing the right thing.

“Dylan, the situation with you and Myra and
the baby is just as equally important to me as what’s going on
here. Go back to Nyssa. Talk to her and tell her how you feel and
get everything worked out with her. Once you get things squared
away, you can come see us, okay?”

“All right, it shouldn’t take long.”

“In the meantime, just call me and I’ll keep
you updated on Natalie’s condition, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you. Be safe on the roads.”

Dylan clears his throat, trying to get rid
of the lump. “I love you too,” he mumbles gruffly before hanging up
his phone.

* * *

Myra listens to the heavy footsteps coming
up the stairs. She hasn’t moved from her position against the wall
with the gun perched on her knees. She’s been too frightened to do
anything other than sit and stare at the door.

The footsteps continue and then stop. Her
gaze drops down to the shadow she can see through the gap at the
bottom of the door. Holding her breath, she picks up her gun and
aims it. Her heart practically pounds out of her chest. She
startles slightly when she hears a light tap on the door. “Myra?”
Porter calls out. “Everything’s okay.
Grampie.
I’m giving
you the safe word...
Grampie.
Everything’s fine. You can
open the door now.”

Myra’s body relaxes, a heavy breath leaving
her lungs in a gush as she sets the gun back down on her knees.
Closing her eyes, she bows her head for a moment and tries to catch
her breath.

Slowly, she gets to her feet, her legs weak
and wobbly. They tingle with pins and needles from sitting in that
position for so long. She flicks the safety back on her gun before
tucking it in the back of her jeans. Her hands tremble as she
unlocks the door.