Torn Apart (22 page)

The words were like a vise around J.R.’s heart. She’d said the same thing when her parents had gone missing, and he honestly thought if it hadn’t been for the presence of their son, she might never have survived. This was the moment he’d been dreading ever since he’d learned of their son’s fate. She was warning him now that she wasn’t going to be strong enough to survive another emotional trauma. He was scared. He needed to shift her focus. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but he knew where he wanted to be when he said it. When he turned down the street where their house used to be, Katie flinched.

“No, J.R. Not here. I don’t want to see this,” she said, and looked away.

J.R. pulled to the curb where their house had once stood, then took her in his arms.

“I don’t like to look at this either, baby,” he said softly. “But there’s something you need to understand. Life isn’t about what we want, Katie. It’s about what we make of what we’re given. We can get through this, but only if we lean on each other. If one of us checks out, that will take the other one down, too. I’m willing to fight for you. Will you fight for me?”

The poignancy in his voice tore through Katie’s conscience as she threw her arms around his neck.

“Oh, J.R.! Oh, sweetheart…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make this all about me. I didn’t mean to come across as the only one who’s suffering. It’s the guilt…the guilt. It’s eating me alive. I
will
fight for you. Always.”

She pulled back just enough that she could see his face. The tears on his cheeks were like stakes in her heart. Why was it that all she seemed to do was hurt the ones she loved? With a sigh, she put her hands on his cheeks and leaned forward.

Breath caught in the back of J.R.’s throat as her lips centered on his. Soft, trembling, yet firmly sealing the promise she’d just made.

He groaned beneath his breath as her mouth shifted to his cheek, then his chin, then the hollow spot at the bottom of his throat.

“Katie…Katie…I love you, girl. We
will
get through this. I promise,” he whispered.

Katie hid her face against his chest, taking solace from this brief moment of found peace at the end of a sad and brutal day.

Suddenly a car horn honked from behind.

They turned to watch as a car pulled up to the curb behind them, then dimmed its lights.

“Who’s that?” J.R. asked.

“I can’t tell for sure,” Katie said, “but the car looks like the one the Maxwells drive,” Katie said.

“You mean Frances and Tommy?”

Katie nodded.

J.R. opened the door and got out. Katie scooted out past the steering wheel and joined him just as he and Tommy Maxwell met beside their cars.

Tommy held out a hand. J.R. ignored it and engulfed the man in a huge, back-thumping embrace. It lasted all of a couple of seconds, but it was telling of how deeply J.R. appreciated the other family’s part in helping to find their son.

Tommy was a little embarrassed but quickly shook it off as he nodded to Katie. “We heard you finally made it back,” he said.

J.R. nodded, as he pulled Katie under the shelter of his arm.

“You won’t believe the screwup that led to all this,” he said. “I didn’t know a thing about any of this until yesterday afternoon. You can imagine the panic I was in driving home.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “Man! What’s the deal? Were you out of the country?”

J.R. shook his head. “No, but I might as well have been. I was on an offshore rig when Hurricane Bonnie took a turn toward Houston. We had already initiated evacuation procedures and removed half the men. I was with the second half, waiting for the other chopper’s arrival when it went down in the gulf. We rode out the hurricane on board. Then, between downed power lines and an office temp who should have been dipping ice cream instead of answering phones, every message that should have been sent on to me was either mislaid or forgotten.”

“How awful,” Frances said, walking up beside her husband, and then looked at Katie. “Uh, Katie…I hope you don’t think we were interfering, but a bunch of us from church got together Monday afternoon and went through the debris here at your place. We were looking for keepsakes that had made it through the storm. You were so…so…sick, and we didn’t want to take a chance on things getting rained on again before you were well enough to do it yourself.”

Katie’s eyes welled up again. Just when she thought she didn’t have a tear left in her body, something would happen to prove her wrong.

“Frances! That is such a loving, thoughtful thing to do,” she said. “Please tell everyone how much we appreciate it.”

“Absolutely,” J.R. added.

“Mama! Can I get out?”

It was the child’s voice that shifted the conversation and sent everyone’s thoughts toward a little boy lost.

The knot in Katie’s stomach tightened. “I didn’t know Holly was with you,” she said. “Will you let her get out? I want to thank her.”

“So do I,” J.R. said.

Tommy grinned, then turned. “Yes, Holly. You can get out. Come on over here by Daddy, okay?”

The little girl emerged from the car, then ran toward her daddy. When Katie knelt down to her level, she ducked her head and grabbed his hand.

“Hi, Holly,” Katie said.

Holly smiled bashfully. “Hi, Mrs. Earle.”

“I want to thank you for telling everyone about Bobby. You did a very good thing.”

Holly’s smile died. “I ran off. The siren blew loud, and I got scared.”

J.R. squatted down beside Katie. “Hi, Holly. I’m Bobby’s daddy. Do you remember me?”

“I think so,” she said.

J.R. knew she didn’t. Yet another chink in what had been the apparent order of their life. He’d grown up here. Knew practically everyone in town. But for the seven years this child had been on earth, he’d spent most of his time somewhere else.

“It’s okay,” he said. “And don’t worry about being scared. You were supposed to be scared. You did everything exactly right. What happened to Bobby is not your fault. In fact, Katie and I think you’re a very brave little girl for stopping to look back and then paying attention to what you saw.”

Holly’s eyes grew wide. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” J.R. said, then patted Holly’s head as he stood. “Tommy, Katie and I can’t thank you enough for getting the information to the police like you did.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Frances. She’s the one who caught on to what was happening.”

Unwilling to be the center of attention, Frances quickly changed the subject.

“Katie, when we heard you were out of the hospital and that J.R. was back, we thought we’d bring your things. Tommy helped me load up what we salvaged, and we were on our way to Penny’s when we saw you here. There isn’t a lot, and you may still want to go through the debris yourself. All we could do was look for things that were still in one piece, and also try and find as many pictures as possible. That’s what I would hate losing. The pictures.”

“Again, I am so very grateful,” Katie said. “You can put everything in the back of our truck.”

J.R. opened the tailgate as Frances and Tommy came over carrying a box apiece.

“We have a couple more,” Tommy said.

“I’ll help,” J.R. said, and walked back to their car.

Katie had climbed up into the truck bed and was poking through the boxes as Frances got back in the car with Holly. Although it was getting too dark to see details, she was still elated at what they’d found. In the midst of her joy, she spied the back of a picture frame. Even before she took it out, she knew what it was. She rocked back on her heels, then sat down in the truck bed and clutched it close to her chest, running her fingers along the edges of the ornate metal frame, grateful beyond words that this, of all things, had once again been spared.

She would never forget finding this picture once before, in her parents’ house, after the floodwaters had receded and her parents’ bodies had been found.

It had been months before Katie had been able to go to the house. Even though they’d worn face masks, the jumble of rotting furniture and the black mold on the walls and floors had been a horrific reminder of what her mother and father had endured before they’d finally succumbed in the attic.

Katie had insisted on seeing the entire house. She’d wanted to get a sense of what they’d endured. She’d needed to be where they’d last drawn breath. Despite J.R.’s urging against it, they’d gone up the narrow staircase into the attic.

He was the first to notice that something had been wrapped in a black plastic bag and tied to the highest rafters: the photograph she now held in her hand. The discovery had gone a long way toward helping Katie heal. It was like finding the last gift her parents would ever give her, and she’d cherished it beyond words. Now, to have it back again was like a miracle.

When J.R. came back with the last box, he could just make out Katie sitting against the cab of the truck.

Frances and Tommy had Holly in the car and were driving away as he slid the last box in beside the others. Moonlight glinted off of something metal in her lap, as well as what appeared to be tears rolling down her cheeks.

He frowned. The reality of their situation had obviously returned. He got up into the back of the truck, then sat down beside her.

“Katie…honey…what do you have?” he asked.

She couldn’t speak, and when he tried to take the frame out of her arms, she wouldn’t let go.

J.R. sighed, then leaned back and closed his eyes. He was at his wits’ end as to how to help her. All he could think to do was pray.

Help me, Lord.

In the grand scheme of things, it was a small request, but only God knew how desperate J.R.’s life had become.

Suddenly he felt Katie’s hand on his arm. When he opened his eyes, she was holding the picture toward him.

Thank you, Jesus.

It was completely dark now. He couldn’t tell what was in the frame, but it was enough that she was opening herself up enough to share the pain.

“What is it, honey?” he asked softly.

“It’s Mama and Daddy’s wedding photo. The only thing they owned that Hurricane Katrina didn’t destroy.”

He sighed, then put his arm around her. “And now it’s gone through a second storm and still come out whole. That’s a pretty powerful sign, if you ask me,” he said.

He felt her body relaxing against him and tried not to weep.

“Why?” she asked.

“I think this is a sign…sort of a message from your mama and daddy telling you that you can get through your sadness a second time and still be okay. That’s what I think.”

Katie shuddered, but she didn’t pull back.

“I hope you’re right,” she whispered.

J.R. glanced up, wondering how the sky could be so beautiful while their world was coming apart.

“Lord, Katie…so do I.”

Saturday morning

It was the sunlight coming through the broken blinds that woke Bobby up. As soon as he tried to move, he remembered why he couldn’t. He needed to go to the bathroom. As much as he hated it, that meant he needed for the man to come back. And it hurt to move. Bobby’s nose ached, his lip felt swollen and everything in the room kept going around and around.

He began kicking and yanking at the ties on his wrists and ankles, and making all the noise he could. In less than a minute, he’d gotten results.

Newt came stomping through the door with a frown on his face. Since he was expecting the men to remove the debris today, he’d dressed for the occasion in a pair of loose gym shorts and an old T-shirt, soft from hundreds of washes.

“So, you’re awake,” he said. “I’m guessing you need to take a piss, right?”

Bobby nodded vigorously.

Newt smiled slyly as he yanked the masking tape off of Bobby’s face, uncaring if it caused him pain.

“One of these days you’re gonna have to give Uncle Newt something special to make up for all the problems you’ve caused.”

Wisely, Bobby didn’t answer. He was too afraid of getting hurt again to argue. When he was finally untied, Newt grabbed him by the arm and practically dragged him to the bathroom door.

“Make it snappy,” Newt said. “I’ve got breakfast ready.”

Bobby flew into the bathroom and relieved himself, but when he turned to the sink to wash up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and gasped.

His mouth was all puffy. His eyes were turning black, and his nose was twice its size. He touched it with the tip of his finger and then winced from the pain.

“Hurry up in there!” Newt yelled. “We got things to do today.”

Bobby quickly washed, although there was no soap at the sink, and dried his hands on his pants. When he came out, he ducked his head and meekly followed Newt into the kitchen, grateful for the simple fact that the bad man was no longer naked.

Newt watched the kid slide into his chair and then stare down into the bowl of dry cereal, as if checking whether he could see anything there that didn’t belong.

Newt snorted beneath his breath. The little brat was getting too smart for his own good.

“Want me to slice a banana on that cereal for you?” he asked, hiding his simmering anger at the whole situation.

Bobby shrugged. A banana sounded good, but he wasn’t willing to admit it.

“Fine. Then I’ll make the decision for you,” Newt said, and sliced half a banana into Bobby’s bowl, then sliced the other half of it into his own.

He picked up the carton of milk and started to pour when Bobby suddenly flattened his hands over the top of the bowl.

“No milk,” Bobby said, then held his breath, afraid the monster would be mad.

“There’s nothing in it,” Newt said.

“I don’t believe you,” Bobby said, then ducked, expecting to be hit.

Newt was on to him now. “Look. I’m putting it on mine,” he said. He poured the milk into his own bowl, then picked up his spoon and started shoveling the cereal into his mouth. “I think it needs a little sugar. You want some on yours?”

Bobby’s certainty wavered. Maybe the milk was okay. He shoved his bowl across the table.

“Just a little milk,” he said softly.

“No problem,” Newt said. “You say when.”

He poured slowly, watching Bobby Earle’s face with a measure of lust and delight. Such pretty dark eyes. It was a damn shame they were turning black, but that would soon go away. Such a pretty little mouth, even if it was puffy. He was sorry about the kid’s nose and wondered if it was broken. Not that it mattered. No way was he taking the kid to a doctor.