Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion) (41 page)

Dialing 911, he went to return back down the stairs to Aria, when he noticed the glass and saw Paige lying on the patio unconscious.

“Oh my God…”
he said, making his way to the broken window.

“911. What’s your emergency?” the dispatch answered.

“My name is Declan Sinclair. I don’t know the address of where I am, but I’ll leave my cell on so you can track the location. I have two women in a house who have been hurt. One’s been stabbed, and the other’s been pushed through a window. I don’t know how bad the injuries are, but they both need help. Send whatever help you can—
please
.”

Declan’s hands began to shake, and his voice broke as he began to comprehend his own words.

“Mr. Sinclair, what are their injuries?” the operator inquired.

His body began to tremble as he, once again, saw Aria’s broken body.

“I don’t know. Just send someone…”

He made his way back down the stairs. Sitting the phone on the steps, he removed his clothing. Taking his tee shirt, he folded it and compressed against the flow of blood. He could see that Aria was breathing, but her whole body began to shake.

“I know this hurts, baby, but I have to apply some pressure to try and stop the bleeding,” he spoke softly to her.

She opened her eyes to him, slightly moving her mouth. He couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“Please don’t try to talk. Help is on the way.”

Through swollen eyes, he could have sworn she glared at him and moved her lips again, causing him to question her sanity, and admire her tenacity. He placed his ear to her lips as he applied the pressure, feeling her body stiffen against the pain.

“What is it, baby?”

He heard one word through her abraded vocal chords.

“Paige.”

Lifting his head, he sorrowfully looked into her eyes.

“I don’t know,” he informed her. “She’s hurt, but help is on the way for you both.”

Aria closed her eyes and drifted away…

Carter was on his cell, talking with Blake.

“Any luck at your house?” he asked.

“None,” Blake reported. “You?”

“No,” Carter’s voice reflected his disappointment. “I know she’s trying to pull something. I can feel it. I just wish I knew what the hell she was up to. I mean, what’s she trying to do, put Aria out of business? It doesn’t make sense why she’d be buying her houses up.”

Blake could sense the dejection by the tone of Carter’s voice.

“Don’t worry,” Blake assured him. “We’ll figure it out. She’s smart, but she’s not invincible.”

Carter started his car. He was about finished with their conversation.

“I’m going to head over to where Declan is,” he told Blake. “I’ll give him a call. Maybe he’s had better luck than we did.”

Carter listened, agreeing with him.

“Me, too,” he said. “Maybe he’s talked to Aria before she went anywhere.”

It was a hopeful statement, but his gut was telling him he was wrong. As he hung up, Carter pulled away from the house and onto the highway. Catching a red light, all kinds of questions ran through his mind, most of which had no answers.

Looking at the light, he watched for it to change. He was stunned when he saw Marisol drive right in front of him with the moving traffic. As the light changed, he turned to follow her. Traveling behind, and going the speed limit, he thought it best to remain inconspicuous. She traveled at a normal pace as well, and he wondered what she was up to.

Tailing her for about twenty minutes garnered him no information. She was doing nothing illegal, so he had no reason to question her. He was about to turn to meet up with Blake and Declan when his cell went off.

“Yeah?” he said as he answered.

The tone in Blake’s voice sent his suspicions on full alert.

“Carter?” Blake paused, feeding his uncertainty.

“Spit it out, Blake…” he ordered.

“It’s bad,” he said. “Aria’s been stabbed and Paige…well, we don’t know…”

Blake’s voice trailed off, adding to the seriousness of his manner. Carter couldn’t believe that Marisol was so calmly driving two cars in front of him.

“She’s right in front of me,” he calmly stated.

“What?” Blake said. “Call the police.”

“I am the police,” Carter said with an emotionless calm.

Blake had a very uneasy feeling.

“Carter! Think of what you’re doing, man,” he implored. “If you screw this up, she could walk free!”

Blake’s tone jogged just enough sense into Carter to push his vigilante desires to the side.

“All right!” he shouted. “I’m calling the State Police now,” he said.

Blake, however, didn’t trust his mindset.

“Do it now, Carter, because if you don’t, you’ll never forgive yourself when you see what she’s done here,” Blake advised. “Really, man,” he said, more calmly, “you have to do it the right way.”

Carter hung up. He could pull her over when it was just the two of them and break her neck. He knew in his gut that she killed Lacey, and just trusting that made him want to deal with her himself.

He drove with that image for all of three minutes when Lacey popped into his head.

Damn her!

He knew what he had to do…

Two State Troopers pulled alongside of him and surrounded her car. Their flashing lights went on and sirens whooped. He thought this would be uneventful, but she floored it. Her car went speeding down the highway, and both police cars gave chase.

Erratically, she wove all over the road, trying to out maneuver them, driving as fast as she could. Fleeing was always the mark of a guilty party.

Carter kept up. There was no way in hell he wasn’t going to be there when they put her in handcuffs. He might even take a picture of it with his phone and send it to his brother. He chased the cops as they chased her, exhilarated with the knowledge that this would end with her in jail.

All at once, her car lurched, going off the side of the road, bouncing up and down wildly, possibly breaking an axle. She got out of the car with a gun in her hand and pointed it at the officers. They drew their weapons and pointed them at her in response.

Carter jumped out of his car, yelling at her to put the gun down, as did the officers. She saw him and gave him her attention, never letting the gun go—still pointing it at the three men. Her hands were shaking. Carter looked at her as she started walking toward them with the gun.

He screamed at her, “Put it down, Marisol! Put the damn gun down!”

She pretended not to hear him and kept coming forward. She then began to scream at them, shaking with tears streaming down her face, “Yo lo siento mucho! Yo lo siento!”

As she started to run toward them, the gun discharged, hitting the one officer in the calf.

The next moments were a blur. Carter hit the ground as gunshots were discharged and bullets flew. When it was over, Marisol lay in the field.

Immediately, Carter ran to the injured officer to inspect his condition. His calf was bleeding, but he was okay. His fellow officer had already called for help and was attending to him.

Once Carter assured himself that the officers were fine, he went over to Marisol and knelt down to see if she was alive. Placing his fingers at her throat for a pulse, her eyes opened slightly.

“…lo siento…lo siento…I sorry…”

It was a desperate whisper, and then she was no more. He stared, feeling no remorse and knowing that he’d never have answers…

“She’s out of surgery. She’s fine.”

The doctor’s words allowed them to breathe. Declan had been waiting for hours to hear of her condition. He, along with Jeannie, hadn’t moved or spoken since she entered the emergency room and the doctors had begun to operate. Declan could no longer deny that his world had ceased to exist since Aria had gone into surgery.

Jeannie reached her hand up and placed it on his arm, comforting him.

“Thank you, doctor,” Declan said, his voice threatening to expose his thoughts. “Thank you…so much.”

He reached his hand out to the doctor, overcome with emotion.

“Yes, thank you,” Jeannie added through tear-filled eyes.

The doctor motioned for them to sit, indicating that he wanted to further discuss Aria’s condition.

“There are some things that you should know,” he warned. “Most of the facial lacerations were not deep. However, the pelvic area was a deep puncture wound. It went in far enough to damage her uterus. We repaired the damage, but she may have difficulty carrying a child. We won’t know until she becomes pregnant, but there’s always that possibility when the uterine wall has been damaged.”

Tears escaped Jeannie’s eyes, but Declan sought to console her, placing a supportive arm around her.

“That doesn’t matter,” he said. “As long as she’s okay, I don’t care about that; I care about her. There are other ways to have a family. I’ll tell her that I don’t care.”

The doctor was satisfied with his answer, but continued.

“You have a good attitude, Mr. Sinclair,” he said, “but she needs to know everything.”

He continued the surgical commentary.

“Although the repair has been made, it isn’t as though the wound were made as in a C-section. The puncture was deep, and on an awkward angle. Scar tissue will form over the repair. There’s just no way to tell what could happen. Also,” he added, “the damage to her lower back from falling down the stairs will need to be watched. Back injuries are so unpredictable.”

“How is her back? And her legs?” Jeannie asked warily.

“Surprisingly,” the doctor said, “the fact that she was strapped into that chair, kept her immobile while she fell, which helped, but she’s bruised all over, and I’m sure it’s going to be a while before she can walk without pain,” he explained. “Her back still took impact in the fall.”

He paused to smile hopefully at them.

“When you combine the stress of carrying a child with those two pre-existing conditions, it could be difficult for Aria, if not impossible. She’ll need to know all the risks before she makes the decision to become pregnant,” he advised. “For now”—the doctor smiled, looking at them hopefully—“the primary focus is for her to heal and regain her strength, but she’s a fighter. The moment she regained consciousness, she asked about her friend, and then the two of you.”

Jeannie raised her eyes toward heaven at the same time Declan smiled.

“That’s my daughter,” she said. “She never gives up on anything—or anyone.”

Jeannie looked over in Declan’s direction, noting that his eyes were glossed with unshed tears.

As Declan watched Jeannie apprehensively walk into the recovery room, he thought about what the doctor had said. He didn’t care about children. Honestly, it didn’t bother him if he and Aria ever had them. They had never discussed it. The only thing that concerned him was that she’d recover and be okay. They had come so far and gone through so much. Having each other was more than he could have hoped for.

The moment he saw Aria with Marisol, he knew she was his world, and he would have exchanged everything he owned for her. The report that the doctor just delivered allowed the iron band around his chest to fall away. He felt he could breathe again with the knowledge she’d be okay. Everything else was incidental. They had the rest of their lives to figure things out.