Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1) (5 page)

“I’ll be just a minute.” Mom carefully placed my hand on the bed then rushed for the door, attempting to hide her tears with a wadded up tissue along the way.

“Derick?” I loved the sound of his name, the way saying it made me feel warm inside, whole, and I hated that I still loved anything about him after what he did to me.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t want to speak to me.” He stood and flashed a nervous smile, running his fingers through his messy brown hair. “I was a jerk, Abby, and I’m sorry.”

My heart pounded hard and unfortunately registered on the traitorous machine next to me. I wanted to rip the sensor off my finger, but Derick ignored the beeping—or at least pretended to.

Sighing, I worked to control my emotions, the fast flow of blood through my veins, so I could talk without sounding like a stuttering, nervous fool. “When I slammed the door in your face, you said you wanted to explain. I think saving my life earned you that explanation.”

He glanced at the hall busy with nurses rushing by, then ran his fingers through his hair again.

“Why are you nervous?”

Derick wasn’t a fidgeter. Cool, level-headed—these are words I used to describe him.

Closing the distance between us, he grabbed a chair then placed it next to my bed, but he remained standing. “I’m worried about you, and your father has never liked me. Now that you’re awake, he’ll kick me out as soon as he arrives, but I owe you the truth.”

You owed me the truth long before now
.

He grimaced as if he understood my thoughts. “I know you’ll probably never forgive me, but—”

“Eh-hem.” Dad stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest, glaring at Derick.

As much as I wanted to hear what he had to say, I preferred my parents. My mom and her comforting warmth. My dad and his unwavering protection. I should have called for him the second I opened the door. He would have saved me. Psycho Number One never would have put me in his trunk if I’d reacted faster.

Derick walked up to my father and then stood there, hands behind his back. “May I return in the morning and talk to her, sir?”

Dad met my gaze. I wanted to belt out, “Yes, please, Dad, let him come back and try to explain his jerky boyish actions to me,” but instead, I nodded.

He frowned. “We’re bringing her home in the morning. I’ll have her give you a call when she’s settled in… if she wants to.”

“
Dad
.”

“Thank you, sir.” Derick doubled back to me, a huge grin lighting his face, leaned over my bed, kissed my cheek, then slipped a piece of paper into my left hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Abigail.”

He knew I loved when he called me Abigail. The machines indicated what I felt inside, racing right along with my stupid, teenaged heart. “See you tomorrow, Derick.”

Smiling, I watched him walk from the room. Dad watched him too, but not with a pleasant expression like mine.

“I don’t like that boy,” he said, a cup of coffee in one hand, a single, long-stemmed red rose in the other. Dad paused when he reached my bed, staring behind me.

I turned my head. “What is it?”

He cleared his throat. “Who brought those?”

“Derick brought them for her,” Mom said, walking in with Mark in-tow. “Abby, Megan said she’d be here shortly. She just wanted to stop by the coffee shop. Says a mocha latte would be better than anything from the gift shop.”

Boy, was she right! “Thanks, Mom.”

“Hey.” Mark waved, but his cheeks were flushed and gray, and a thick white bandage secured the cut on his right arm.

“Hey.” How much pain was he in? Or did the detectives question him so long that he got sick?
When will the cops come for me
?

“Oh, and thank you, Dad. It’s beautiful,” I said, changing my train of thought before my dad got any more upset. I reached for the flower but forgot about my shoulder. Stabbing sensations shot down to my hand. “How long is this going to hurt?”

“The doctor said it would take up to twelve weeks, and you’ll need physical therapy.” Mom turned for the door. “I’ll go find a nurse and see about getting you some pain meds.”

“I guess I’ll just put this with the others.” Dad sighed, not even attempting to hide his hurt.

“No. It needs its own vase,” I said, shaking my head.

He stormed from the room, muttering under his breath. Dad wasn’t mad at me; my guess is his hatred for Derick grew deeper. I think Dad didn’t like anyone taking his baby girl’s love away from him. That’s why he liked Mark so much, because my heart didn’t belong to him.

Yesterday’s rejected date stood between my bed and the exit, staring at me as if I’d disappear any second.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

Glancing up, his brown eyes widened. “I didn’t bring you flowers. Damn that Derick. One day I’ll find a way to show him up and prove to you who the better man is.”

“You saved me. I think that’s better than flowers.”

Mark walked up to me, his hands shoved into his jean pockets. “
He
was there, too. I guess you two made up?”

I clenched the paper in my palm. “There was no making up. We didn’t have time to talk.”

“Good news, then.” A smile stretched across Mark’s face, and I remembered why I stopped spending so much time with him years before. Mark expected me to date him, expected I’d be okay with him meeting me by my locker every day, be okay with him telling people he loved me. He pushed for a relationship, pushed, pushed, pushed.

Just like other guys. Even Will with that unexpected and unwanted kiss under the bleachers. Thank God Megan knew how I felt about Derick, or our relationship might have suffered.

Derick was the only guy close to me who didn’t push. He was always there, and life was about us. We had fun
together
.

Right now, I wanted nothing more than for Mark to leave the room and forget his obsession with me. The letter in my hands meant everything. The desire to know what it said ate me alive.

His smile fell, then he sat in the green plastic chair next to the bed. “I’m sorry.”

I tried turning to face him, but the movement sent piercing sensations through my shoulder again. “Me too. Giving you the impression I wanted to dat—”

“I’m not sorry for you going out with me the other night, Abby, I’m sorry because you’re in the hospital, and I’m hounding you about Derick. I’m acting as selfish as he is—”

“
Selfish
? How is Derick acting selfish? I was kidnapped, and you’re in here talking about who I’m dating—or
not
dating. The only person acting selfish is you.”

“Abby?” Mom stood in the doorway, scary-parent gaze settled on Mark, Megan and Will peeking around her, Will snickering, Megan shushing. “Do you need a moment?”

“No, Mom.” I smiled at her, then returned my attention to Mark. He’d always pushed, but never this hard.
I’m in the
hospital,
for crying out loud
! “You can stay, if you promise not to talk about Derick again.”

“Can’t promise. He’s no good for you, not like I—”

“Then go.” I glared, trying to imitate the hardness my mother offered, that cold, calculating sternness all adults seemed to have mastered.

Nodding, he stood and leaned over the bed. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me like Derick had, but Mark leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Those roses, whatever piece of paper you’re clutching in your hand—these are his attempts to get back on your good side, Abby. Open your eyes. There’s a whole world around you that you refuse to see, and I
will
be a huge part of that world.”

“
Mark
, stop it. Just stop. What’s wrong with you?” My blood pressure must have skyrocketed; everything swirled and spun, and my pulse raced in my ears—and on the machines. Mark was supposed to be the nice guy. Pushy, but nice. Wanting more, but nice, nice, nice. This was just mean.

“I think it’s time to leave, Mark,” Dad said, stepping into the room, his voice low and demeanor threatening, all narrowed eyes and squared shoulders.

Straightening, Mark smoothed his features and returned to the guy my parents couldn’t seem to get enough of. “Sorry, Mr. Nichols. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

He walked out and my parents followed, leaving me with Will and Megan. But Will didn’t stay long, took off muttering something about missing a scene between the biggest jerk at school and my parents.

“Boys.” Megan handed me a steaming hot cup of coffee and kissed my cheek. “Thought you’d like something a little more useful than stuffed bears and flowers.”

“My hero!” I sipped on the chocolatey-coffee goodness, ignoring the pain it brought my tongue. Coffee could fix anything.

Megan sat in a chair next to my bed, staring at me as if I might disappear any moment.

“What?”

A tear escaped the corner of her eye, but she rubbed the back of her hand across her face as if she wanted to pretend she was okay. I knew better. “I’ve never been so afraid in my life, Abigail Nichols. Never.”

Me either. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened, and her eyebrows shot up. “You’re sorry? Oh, Abs. I’m not upset with you. I just… I’m relieved. I think I’d die without you.” She leaned against the bed and smiled. “Of course, not in an obsessive-compulsive way.”

“I love you, too.” I sipped on my coffee again, unsure what to say. What could I talk about that wouldn’t sound stupid and immature? Definitely not boys. And no way would I bring up what happened. Not now.

“So…”

“So?” I waved, encouraging her to keep talking.

Megan glanced toward the door, then back at me, a frown tugging at her perfect lips. “I haven’t talked to Will yet, but how about I cancel my plans for Winter Break? You and I can do something instead?”

And ruin her full week with Will at the beach? “No way, Megan. You need to go. You guys go every year—”

“Exactly. We go every year, Mr. Banaan always makes him work at that one stupid property anyway, checking for trespassers—weirdest thing ever, by the way—and how often do you ask me to drop plans for you?” She held up a hand. “Never. That’s how often.”

I shook my head back and forth. “Not budging. Not in a million years. You cancel that trip and I won’t open my door. You love him. You get a couple weeks out of the year to spend with him. Maybe this is your year.”

She’d waited so long to share her feelings with Will Banaan. So long to tell him that she was ridiculously in love with him and all that bushy brown hair she couldn’t stop imagining running her fingers through. I wouldn’t ruin that.

Voices carried down the hall. Mom, Dad, and Will were back, and they had company. Two police officers followed them all into the room.

This night keeps getting better
.

“Do you think so?” Megan asked.

“Yes. Please don’t cancel.”

Biting her lip, she nodded. “Okay, babe.”

I slid the paper under my leg, wishing for five minutes alone so I could read whatever Derick wanted me to read. But, really, I just wanted to go home.

fficer Daniels jotted notes on a pad of paper, glancing up every few minutes to make eye contact, studying me. His partner, Officer Paulson, asked all the questions. Most of them seemed stupid. The police knew what time I was taken and that I arrived at the cabin in a trunk, yet they asked about those details anyway.