As I put the empty glass on the counter, Reid’s words penetrated my thoughts, coming in fragments or syllables.
Reaching for my shoulders, he spun me until I was facing him. “Lorna, are you listening to me?”
Even though I nodded, my truthful answer was no. I wasn’t listening. I was watching his full lips, knowing their movement as they spoke my name, imagining their taste when we kissed, or their power of persuasion when that kiss deepened. Leaning toward him, I stood taller on my tiptoes and brought my lips to his. When I backed away, I feigned a smile. “Let’s not talk about this. You should rest.”
“Lorna, you lived in Englewood when you were young.”
My head shook as I rubbed my suddenly cooled hands together. “I lived in a lot of places when I was young.”
“His name was Gordon Maples.”
The shaking of my head increased in speed. “He wasn’t significant. I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Gordon Maples didn’t deny my accusation.”
“Stop.” I stepped farther into the kitchen. “I should make us dinner.”
Reid’s strong hands were again grasping my shoulders. “Lorna, you were a child. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“No. No.” My pitch rose above his deep tenor. “Stop talking about it. We can’t discuss it.”
Oh God, I remembered his yellow teeth and dirty hands.
The stench of him.
Reaching for the collar of my top, I pulled it up, stretching it over my lips and nose as my shoulders rolled forward, and I looked down at the floor.
Our floor wasn’t like his. Our home was clean. There were no stacks of empty beer cans, no stains on the carpet, and no piles of dirty laundry.
With veiled eyes, I peered up at my husband. “Please, Reid.”
“Talk to me, Lorna. God, I want to help you.”
The room blurred as I sniffled, pushing my blouse down from my face. “This isn’t helping me. I haven’t thought about...” Would saying the words aloud bring the darkness back?
“He hurt you.”
“He hurt everyone including Mason and Nancy.”
Reid’s arms surrounded me, securing my arms to my sides as he pulled me against his hard chest. Tucking my head under his chin, he enveloped me—captured me. As my eyes closed, I was surrounded by his warmth, the rhythm of his breathing, and the lingering scent of his cologne. His baritone voice and steady cadence vibrated his chest as he spoke. “Lorna, I’m not trying to upset you. Fuck, I’d do anything to take it all away.”
Keeping my eyes closed against his clean shirt, scenes I’d tucked away played like a highlights film, small snippets of recollections. Shaking my head, I pushed the memories away and looked up. “I’m fine. It wasn’t what you think.” I peered upward. “It wasn’t rape.” I shrugged. “He called it a game.”
“Grown men don’t play those kinds of games with little girls.”
I leaned into my husband’s embrace. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
His large hand gently rubbed my back. “If you ever do, I’m here. If you never want to, I’m still here.”
The weight of what happened so long ago fell over me like a weighted blanket. I spoke my words muffled by Reid’s chest. “I didn’t want to play, but he would say that if I didn’t, he’d play with Missy.”
“Fucker,” Reid mumbled.
The guilt gnawed at my stomach. “He didn’t force me.”
Reid pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting it until our eyes met. “Using your little sister as leverage was forcing you.”
My mind knew Reid was right. As a grown adult, I could see the interaction differently than I did as a child. “You’re right.”
“He can’t hurt anyone ever again.”
“What did you do?”
“Lorna, he admitted to hurting you. I would wager you weren’t the only one he ever hurt or played games with. Men like him don’t deserve the luxury of breathing.”
I took a step back. “He’s dead?”
Reid nodded.
“Oh my God. Is that why you were shot? Did he shoot you?”
“When I told Mason what you’d said last night, he was as determined as I to talk to Maples face-to-face. No, Maples didn’t shoot me. Mason and I had backup Sparrows. We were prepared. Mason insisted on the vests.”
My trembling hand went to my husband’s chest. “I’m so glad.”
“His daughter Zella was there when we got there.”
I scrunched my nose. “She was older than Anna. Why would she be there? When I worked at the motel, she was married to some guy.”
“I believe she was living with Maples. They have a child together.”
My head was again spinning as it shook. “No, he’s her father, her biological father.”
“He bragged about the kid being his and being a boy.”
Inhaling, I took a step back and leaned against the kitchen counter, unsure if I wanted to hear more. “Just tell me how you were shot.”
“When we arrived, Mason sent Zella and the baby away on a fake mission. But before she left, Maples told her to take her baby to someone. We later figured out it was a code. When she left the house, she didn’t go on the mission but instead went across the street. After Maples was dead, we called for cleanup and stepped out onto the porch. A man named Stephens came out of his house across the street with a shotgun.”
My head was shaking. “What happened to him?”
Reid’s head tilted. He didn’t need to answer. I saw his response in his eyes. I pushed myself away from the counter. “This is wrong. I don’t want people dead because of me. It wasn’t...” I remembered Maples’s stench, the phantom odor causing my nose to wrinkle, and his voice as he tugged on my hair.
I reached for my hair, pulling a curl forward, barely seeing the new chestnut shade. “This is entirely my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I looked over at Reid. “I didn’t mean to and now you were shot and two people are dead because of me.”
“No, Lorna, Maples is dead because he was scum.” Reid again reached for my hand. “Men like him never stop. He remembered you, Lorna, and he fathered his daughter’s child.”
A chill ran through me. “That’s not the first one.”
“What?”
I swallowed the bile bubbling in my throat. “I remember one time, in the middle of the night, I saw him with Anna. I didn’t understand what was happening—what they were doing—but now I do. It was before we left his house. Anna was only twelve. Her oldest child is her father’s. She married to get away from him.”
“She told you that?”
“Not in so many words. I think it was why she still hated me when I worked at the motel. She was jealous because I got away.”
“He was a sick man.” Reid’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Why would anyone go back to him?”
“You mean Zella?”
“I mean, Zella and your mother.”
“Nancy went back to him?”
My husband palmed my cheeks. “You’ve been struggling with not remembering and not knowing. Do you want to know more? Or would it be better not to tell you what happened and what we learned?”