Unfortunately, she hadn’t had Rob’s comforting presence next to her to soothe her.
After using the bathroom, she headed out to the living room. He sat on the couch, browsing on his laptop.
“Are you an early riser?” she asked.
He joined her in the kitchen. “Only because I set my alarm. Rob’s supposed to be home soon. Wanted to make sure he got in okay. He also warned me you’re suddenly an early riser.” He smiled. “Despite a lifetime of hating mornings.”
She stared at her coffee mug. Rob had fixed it for her the morning before, with milk and sugar. As she stared at the empty mug, it occurred to her that she didn’t even remember how she used to take her coffee. Rob had brought her coffee. Shayla had brought her coffee.
They both knew more about her than she knew about herself.
She poured herself a mugful and picked it up, blowing a little across the top.
Bill frowned at her.
“What?” she asked. She took a sip, making a face at the bitter taste as Bill started laughing.
“That.”
She put the mug down and added a generous amount of sugar. He reached into the fridge and handed her the carton of milk. She added enough to take it almost to the top of the mug and gave it a careful stir.
“You’ve taken sugar and milk or creamer in your coffee as long as you’ve been drinking it,” he told her as he put the milk back.
“Apparently, I still do. It was an experiment.” She carefully picked up the mug and took another sip.
Much better.
“Here’s today’s plan. Rob put me in touch with your friend, Sully. He texted me yesterday and said he’d be here by nine this morning.”
Nerves took over, even though rationally she knew they shouldn’t. “We’re meeting him at the shop?”
“No, no need. He’s coming here. We’ll ride with him.”
She tried to quell her rising panic. “But Rob said Steve’s met him before. I don’t want to have to wake Rob up.”
He smiled and pulled out his phone, then showed her something. It was a picture of a man. “Rob sent me his pic.”
She let out a relieved laugh as she looked at it. “He’s thinking of everything.”
He took the phone back. “Well, we’re trying. It’s a group effort. Apparently Sully suggested it.”
She jumped when around six thirty she heard keys in the front door. Bill started toward it when Rob walked in.
Just the sight of him started her heart fluttering. She walked over with the intent of hugging him when she realized a strong, acrid aroma of smoke wafted off him.
He held out a hand to stay her. “Yeah, sorry. Wildfire. We had a couple of guys go down with heat exhaustion. Let me get a shower first, then I’ll get my hug.” He kissed her hand before heading toward the master bedroom.
“Coffee?” she asked after him.
“Yes, please.” He disappeared, then stuck his head back out. “Milk and sugar, please.” He disappeared again.
She nodded and headed toward the kitchen, trying to shrug off another round of tears that prickled her eyes.
She didn’t even remember how Rob took his coffee, but she could remember Bill loved strawberries.
Bill followed her. “Stop thinking that.”
“Thinking what?”
“That.” He caught her hands and made her look at him. “Guilty. Stop it. You’re trying too hard. I think more will come back if you stop trying to force it. Did you call and make an appointment with the psychiatrist yet?”
“No.”
“Go take him his coffee. Then when you come back, I want that business card. I’ll call her today and make the appointment for this week, if she can get you in.”
“Okay.”
Rob was already in the shower. She hesitated, but he’d left the door partially open.
“I have your coffee.”
“Bring it in, sweetheart. It’s okay.”
She took a deep breath and walked in. His smoky clothes lay in a heap on the floor. The shower curtain, light fern green with leaves on it, hid his body from her. He pulled the shower curtain back and stuck his head out.
“Want to take a shower with me?”
She must have reacted badly, because his face fell. “Honey, it’s okay. You don’t have to.”
Standing there, she finally put down the coffee on the counter, next to the sink. Stepping over his clothes she walked to the shower and leaned in.
“Maybe I want to,” she softly said.
That earned her a smile, a smile that melted her soul. A smile she knew she’d do anything to see. A smile that seemed to instantly reverse the pain she’d read in his eyes over whatever expression she’d revealed after his comment.
She kissed him, slowly, sweetly, ignoring the spray from the shower lightly beading in her hair like condensation on a glass of iced tea in the summer heat.
His gaze traveled her face. “I don’t want to push you,” he said. “I know this is hard for you. The fact that you’re willing is enough for now.” He started to say something else, but a yawn took over. “And I hate to say it, but I’m exhausted. I only got about three hours of sleep yesterday total.”
He kissed her again. “And you’re meeting with Sully today.”
“You mean I’m meeting Sully today.”
He managed a tired smile. “I’d go with you, but exhaustion and firearms don’t mix.”
“Bill showed me his picture.”
He kissed her once more. “I trust Sully with your life. He’s a good man. Retired cop.”
She cradled his cheek in her hand, felt the stubble there. When the mental spinning started again, she closed her eyes and waited to see if it would bring results or disappointment.
She stood with him, much like this morning, but in a different bathroom.
“Does it have shells on the curtain?” She didn’t want to open her eyes.
Hell, she didn’t want to breathe for fear of losing it.
“Shells?”
“The shower curtain.” Rob stood there in her mind just as plainly as he stood in front of her now. “And the carpet mat is beige.” In here, there was only a white towel on the floor.
At the noise he made, she opened her eyes. She could tell from the way his eyes looked too bright that he was close to tears. “Yeah. The master bath in the bedroom at the house.”
She threw her arms around him, not caring that she was getting wet. “It’s not a lot,” she finally managed, “but it’s a start.”
He buried his face in her hair. “Yeah, sweetheart. It’s a start. And I’ll take everything I can get.”
* * * *
Laura hoped she didn’t regret her decision to stick with non-prescription pain killers that morning. She couldn’t imagine drugs and guns were a smart mix. And as long as she didn’t make any fast, sudden movements, her ribs didn’t bother her too much.
Sullivan Nicoletto wasn’t quite as tall as Rob or Bill. Maybe in his late forties, his grey eyes seemed to take everything in. When he knocked, Bill had opened the door for him after looking through the peephole to verify his identity.
Bill shook hands with him and introduced himself after letting him in. Even Doogie seemed to recognize him, happily wagging his tail as Sully stooped to pet him.
Sully, as he’d asked her to call him, gave her a friendly smile she found reassuring. “How are you doing, Laur?”
She nodded. He felt familiar, but no concrete memories yet. “I’m okay.”
“Nothing, huh?”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I talked to Tony and Shay. They’ve been keeping us all posted so we weren’t bugging poor Rob.”
“He’s asleep. He was on shift yesterday.”
“That’s okay. I don’t want to wake him. Are you ready?”
“Am I dressed okay?” Bill had suggested she wear jeans. She’d also added a baseball cap and a pair of large, dark sunglasses to help conceal her bruises a little.
“You’re fine,” Sully assured her.
They headed east toward Pt. Charlotte, her in the backseat of his Jaguar while Bill rode up front. “I talked with Det. Thomas, who put me in touch with a gun range down here,” Sully told them. “I’ve already talked with them. We’re going to put you through a safety class this morning, as well as the concealed weapons class curriculum, then do range work. When we’re done, we’ll meet Thomas over at his office and get your fingerprints taken.”
“Fingerprints?”
“For the license. Required. And we can stop anywhere to get your picture taken. He’s going to personally handle your application to get your license rushed.”
“Okay.” She had a thought. “How much is all of this going to cost me?” She realized she had no idea how much money she had, much less how to access it. All of this might be beyond her budget.
If she even had a budget. Maybe the hospital bills had wiped her out.
Sully glanced at her in the mirror. “Nothing. I’m picking all of this up for you.”
When she started to protest, he silenced her, catching and holding her gaze in the rearview mirror. “You let me do this for you, and for Rob. Consider it an early wedding present, okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t be down here before this.”
She realized he wasn’t a man to be argued with. “Thank you,” she said.
He smiled. “Besides, Clarisse would kill me if I let you pay.”
The class work was easy enough, lasted about three hours, and before long they were in the gun range. Bill sat at a table just outside the range area, where he could watch through large windows.
Sully had brought three guns, two semi-automatics and a revolver, in a metal carry-case. From a duffel bag he produced two sets of shooting muffs and protective glasses.
With the instructor looking on, Sully showed her how all three guns worked and walked her through loading and unloading them. The weight of the guns in her hands wasn’t familiar to her, but it wasn’t altogether unpleasant, either.
Her aim wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t the worst. After shooting all three guns several times and growing more comfortable with them, Sully and the instructor both pronounced her capable enough to safely handle the guns.
Unfortunately, she also realized she should have taken a pain pill. She hoped the men couldn’t see how much pain she was in.
“I’ll make sure I get with you at least once a week to practice,” Sully told her.
“I don’t have a gun.”
He smiled. “That’s part two of my wedding present to you.”
Sully helped her pick out a 9mm that felt comfortable to her. The instructor, who was also the gun shop’s owner, let her shoot several magazines of rounds through it before Sully put down a credit card. She wouldn’t be able to take it home for three days due to waiting period laws, but they got her fitted with two different holsters and a purse she could conceal it in. Sully also got her set up with a cleaning kit, showed her how to use it, and bought her a set of shooting muffs and glasses, as well as a range bag.
By the time they went for lunch, her application had been completed, her picture taken at a drugstore, and Thomas had personally supervised her fingerprints being taken.
And she wanted to break down and cry from the pain.
As they sat in the booth after the waitress took their order, Laura stared out the window.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Bill asked.
She didn’t look at them. “I’m okay,” she softly said.
He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, setting it in front of her.
The bottle of her painkillers.
When she just stared at it, Sully reached across the table, glanced at the label, and then shook one into his palm.
“Hand.”
Something about his tone of voice brooked no resistance. She held out her hand, palm up, in front of him. He dropped the tablet into her palm while Bill slid her glass of water over to her.
“She’s stubborn,” Bill said as they watched her take the pill.
Sully screwed the cap onto the bottle and returned it to Bill. “I know. She thinks she’s a tough solder.” He stared at her from across the table with a familiar intensity that didn’t make her feel uncomfortable.
That bothered her in a way she couldn’t understand. She looked down at her lap.
“I could tell how bad she was hurting,” Sully said as he watched her. “But having dealt with my fair share of pain and that age-old question of do I or don’t I take the meds now or later, I wasn’t going to call her out on it at the range.”
She looked up at him. “Why are you in pain?”
“Got shot in the line of duty. It’s why I retired. Gut and leg. Most of the time, I’m all right. But if I overdo things and don’t take my cane, I can end up needing some of those myself. I try to avoid getting to that point in the first place.”
“I guess it makes it difficult with two babies, huh?”
He looked like he was about to speak, then changed his mind. It took him a moment to reply. “We get by. It takes teamwork.”
It was definitely another of those missed context moments, like she’d sensed with Shayla in the hospital.
Lucky for him she was hurting too bad to pursue it. She just wanted the pain pill to kick in so she changed the subject rather than mulling it over.
“Is this what my life is going to be like now? Looking over my shoulder all the time?” She finally turned to them. “What kind of life is this?” she quietly asked. “Where I don’t know who’s who and might have to kill someone to protect myself?”
Sully reached across the table and laid his hands over hers. “If you need to, you’re welcomed to come stay with us. I already told Rob that, but I’m telling you, too.”
“But that’s not my life.” She looked out the window again. “I want my life back. At least the memories of it. If I had those, it wouldn’t be so bad, I guess. Then maybe I’d know who did this to me. Or at least I’d have a good idea of who didn’t do it to me so I wouldn’t have to rely on everyone else to tell me who to trust.”
“Do you trust me, Laura?” Sully quietly asked.
Something in her heart flipped over in a good way. Not romantically, but…familiar. The same way it’d felt when he’d ordered her to put her hand out.
She turned back to him and stared into his eyes. Grey, clear, understanding. He knew more about her than she did.
“Ask me again,” she said.
His gaze never wavered from hers as he placed his other hand over hers on the table. “Do you trust me?” he softly asked, in a slightly different tone. Firmer, but…something specific she couldn’t put her finger on.
She felt like she should know this.
She stared at him for a moment. Pulling air into her lungs suddenly became a difficult task, even more so with the pain. “Yes,” she quietly said. “I trust you.”
She wanted to add a “sir” to the end of that phrase but cut it off, all without understanding why.
He smiled and gently squeezed her hands before he released them and sat back. “Good. I’m glad you feel that way about me. Because yes, you’re like family to us. I’ll do whatever I can to help keep you safe.”
Chapter Sixteen
Rob wasn’t at the condo when they returned. After Sully dropped them off, Bill told her what he’d been up to. While they were shooting, Bill had called Dr. Simpson and set up an appointment. “Nine o’clock Saturday morning,” he said. “She’s coming in special to talk with you.”
“I feel bad she’s making an exception for me.”
“Don’t you try to wiggle out of this. I’m driving you there. Got it?”
She sensed the firm set of his jaw meant he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Thank you,” she quietly said before retreating to her bedroom. She turned at the door. “I need to lie down for a little bit. Can we go to the shop after I wake up?”
“Of course, sweetie. Take as long as you need.”
“Thanks.”
* * * *
Bill watched as she closed the door behind her. He suspected once the pain pill fully kicked in that they wouldn’t be leaving the apartment.
He was also telling Rob to put the kibosh on Laura going out with her friends in the morning. She was still in too much pain.
He slumped down on the sofa, idly stroking Doogie’s head when the dog shoved it in his lap.
This wasn’t their Laura. Nothing remotely like her. His sister would have taken to shooting that morning with a spirit of fun and adventure, pain or not.
Watching her with Sully had been painful. Like watching a dutiful child going through the motions, doing what they’re told.
That wasn’t his sister. Not his old sister. Not the Laura he grew up with.
His phone vibrated. He looked to see Rob calling.
“How’d she do?” he asked.
“Good, all things considered. Where are you?”
“The house. The alarm company is here now. I’ll be back this afternoon.”
“What about installing the alarm here?”
“Tomorrow morning. Don’t worry, Steve said he’d come over while they do it.”
“Won’t be necessary.” He told Rob about her pain. “I think we should either have them come here, or cancel it. She might get pissed off at me for that, but I don’t care. She needs to rest.”
Rob sounded exhausted. “I agree. I’ll call Shayla. No new memories?”
He hated to be the bearer of bad news. “Sorry.”
Bill checked on Laura several times. She never stirred when he opened her bedroom door.
It was after three o’clock when she finally made her way out to the living room, Doogie on her heels.
He looked up from the book he’d been reading as she carefully lowered herself next to him on the couch and put her head in his lap.
“Oh, little sis, you are sooo not going over to the shop today.” He put the book aside and stroked her hair. “Sorry, but I’m pulling rank. You look like you feel horrible.”
“I know,” she softly said.