Consolation Prize

Straining to hear, I pressed the phone harder against my ear. There was a hiccupping kind of sob, and then the person on the other end of the line began to cry.

  “Julianna?” I said a little more urgently. “Is that you?”

  “I…this was the only number I could remember,” the hoarse, faltering voice told me. “Should’ve called 911. Why didn’t I call 911? I can’t think. I should call nine…”

  “Julianna.” Affecting my voice with a calm clarity I didn’t feel, I asked, “Where are you?”

  “I don’t know.” The voice broke with either a bad connection, her inability to talk, or both. “Orchard,” I finally heard. “Country.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, eager hope blooming inside me as I nodded. “That’s good. You’re at an orchard in the country.” I met Pick’s gaze meaningfully. “I think I know exactly where you are. We can find you. Are you okay?”

  When she said, “No,” I shuddered, worried how Colton was going to deal with this.

  “Just hang tight,” I told her, not sure what else to say. “I’m going to come get you.”

  She began to cry again, and the only word I understood after that was, “Colton…”

  “Yes, we’ll get Colton. You’ll see him soon. I swear. I’ll be right there.” Not wanting to hang up with her but ready to get where I needed to go, I tossed the phone to Pick.

  He caught it easily and pressed it to his ear while I jumped over the bar and ran for the exit. I logged on to my phone as I jogged, typing Seymour, orchard, and Illinois into my map search as I went. Though it’d been closed for two years, I found that a Seymour Valley Apple Farm, located exactly eighteen miles outside Ellamore, was still registered as a place of business. I plugged in the driving directions and hopped into my truck.

  Since my phone was busy with helping me find Juli, I didn’t call my brother. I trusted that Pick would contact everyone who needed to know, and besides, I kind of wanted to be the first one who found her so Colton would stop hating me, and of course because I wanted to help my favorite coworker, but the Colton aspect made it even more urgent.

  It should’ve been a half-hour drive, but I made it in twenty minutes. I pulled into the weed-covered driveway that didn’t look as if it’d been maintained in two years and drove to the end of the lane until I was in front of the house and a couple outbuildings. One of them hosted a whole side of the building with the words Seymour Valley Apple Farm painted on the side in chipping red block letters.

  I killed the engine and climbed out.

  The place seemed deserted and rundown, except for a single older model truck parked in front of my ride. Evening had fallen and I squinted through the dusk, not sure where to even begin looking. So I cupped my hand around my mouth and yelled, “Juli!”

  No one answered.

  I began to panic, thinking I’d come to the wrong place. Maybe she was at a different orchard. But the name fit and the place looked as if it’d been foreclosed for a good two years. I jogged toward the abandoned two-story farmhouse with no curtains or shades in the windows, revealing the interior was bare of everything. But when I tried the front door, it was locked. I went around to the back and tried the back door next. Also locked.

  I rubbed my face, thinking.

  Julianna had called me from somewhere. There had to be a phone inside. Trying not to think about the fact I was breaking and entering, I backed up a few steps and then rammed my shoulder into the back door. Hurt like a motherfucker. I might’ve dislocated it. What was worse, the door didn’t even budge. Wincing, I eased off my jacket and wrapped it around my fist before going with option two and breaking out the glass.

  Once I was inside, I searched the empty house from top to bottom for a phone, but there wasn’t one. And there was no Juli. So I tried the building I guessed had probably once been the storefront for the orchard. After breaking in there and finding no phone, I spun in a circle, stabbing my fingers through my hair.

  “Julianna!” I yelled, walking aimlessly around the building. Where the fuck was she?

  I was about to give up all hope when I spotted the storm shelter sticking about a foot above the ground on the side of the house I hadn’t used to get to the back door. And huddled on the ground beside it was a figure. No, wait. Two figures. One was kneeling with its head lowered, the other was lying on the ground next to the first.

  “Juli!” I raced forward, skidding to a stop when I was close enough to take in the scene before me.

  She sat on her knees, covered in blood, with her head bowed and scarlet-stained hands holding a cell phone to her chest next to some guy sprawled on his back like Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. The dude looked dead, and like maybe he’d been stabbed, especially with that knife sticking out of his throat.

  “Juli?” I said hesitantly, easing a few steps forward until I could creep out my hand and touch her shoulder. She jumped as if scalded and began to scream, and yet not scream. I think she was trying to scream but didn’t exactly have a voice left to do so. What came out was just a hoarse release of air.

  And then she began to whisper, “No, no, no, no, no,” as she shook her head and clutched the phone in her hands.

  I drew my fingers back and skipped away, holding up both hands to let her know I wouldn’t touch her again. Not that she even noticed or acknowledged me.

  Beginning to shake out of control, I tugged up my phone and called Pick. “I found her.”

  “Oh, thank God,” he breathed. “Is she okay?”

  I shook my head. “Man, I don’t even know. There’s blood everywhere, I can’t tell if it’s hers or not. She flipped out when I touched her. She doesn’t act like I’m even here, but she’s sitting upright and rocking herself. I think…I think she killed the guy who took her. He’s lying here dead beside her with a knife sticking from his throat.”

  “Holy fuck.”

  I nodded. Yeah. That about summed it up. “Who have you called?”

  “Everyone,” he confirmed. “Actually, I wouldn’t think they’d be too far behind you.” And even as he said that I heard a car in the drive, pulling to a stop behind my truck.

  “Someone just showed up,” I affirmed. “Talk later.”

  I disconnected with him to greet whoever had shown. Surprised to see Julianna’s father jogging toward me, I waved him forward even as I gritted my teeth.

  He wasn’t exactly my favorite person at the moment. He’d treated Colton like a criminal since Monday, certain my brother was the reason behind all this. They had clashed tempers so often now, I think we’d had to stop them from coming to physical blows about a dozen times.

  “She’s here,” I said, watching his face as he drew close enough to see what had happened for himself.

  “Mother of God.” He gulped as if he were going to be sick, then he veered around the dead guy to get to his daughter. “Juli Bug. Baby girl. It’s okay. Daddy’s here.”

  But he got the same result I had when he tried to touch her. He jerked away as she started to hyperventilate and scream in the same hoarse cry that tore something up inside me.

  While her dad was forced to back away as well, I clutched my head, wishing there was some way to at least calm her down.

  The police showed up next. They radioed for an ambulance, assuring us someone would probably give her a tranquilizer to put her to sleep so they could get her help. Then they forced us back, away from the crime scene and affirmed that her kidnapper was most definitely dead.

  Colton and Noel arrived just before the paramedics did.

  As my brother raced forward, I turned to intercept him. “Hey, don’t—” I tried to hold him back so he couldn’t see the gruesome sight, but he pushed me out of the way and plowed past.

  “Is she okay?” he demanded, hurrying a few steps forward before slowing to a stop and gaping in horror. “Oh, Jesus. Baby doll?”

  Julianna lifted her face, ignoring the two officers who were flanking her and had been trying to get her to respond to them. “Colton?”

  He rushed
the last few feet to her and fell to his knees, where she launched herself into his arms and clung to him as if he were the only thing left on the planet to hold on to.

  COLTON’S CHAPTER | 35

  Sometimes it was better not to think. As a frozen, blood-covered Julianna shivered and whimpered in my arms, smelling of piss, mildew, and all manner of gross, I watched the police cover the dead body lying five feet away with a tarp, and I tried to process what I was seeing. But I’m pretty sure my brain wouldn’t let my thoughts travel far or I would’ve had a meltdown right then and there.

  I was shaking as much as Julianna was. Or maybe she was trembling so much for both of us it just felt like I was too. She was like hugging an ice cube.

  “Blanket,” I said, lifting my face to address anyone from the horde of people gathered around us, standing there and gawking like dumbasses.

  Juli’s dad immediately began to shed his coat. Somewhere in my head, I wondered why I hadn’t had the forethought to take off my own coat for her, but then, I wasn’t all that sure I was able to stop holding her long enough to do so. I snatched the coat as soon as it was held down to me, and after I fumbled to wrap it around her shoulders and tugged her back against me, she tucked her face just under my chin, croaking a barely discernable word that sounded like water.

  “Water,” I ordered, glancing up again. This request wasn’t so readily available. There was a mad scramble before a clear half-empty bottle was shoved in front of me. In the wait, I tucked my face close to her cheek and asked, “Where does it hurt most?”

  Though her coat and clothes were freezing cold, her cheek was burning hot.

  A shudder wracked her body. “E-everywhere.”

  I closed my eyes and kissed her hair. We clutched each other for a while, blocking out the rest of the world. I was only vaguely aware of family and emergency workers milling around us, talking and trying to figure out what had happened. At the moment, I didn’t care about any of that. Julianna was alive and in my arms, and that was all that mattered.

  When the ambulance finally arrived and they started to wheel a stretcher toward us, I returned to reality and began to pull away from her, knowing she needed to be checked out.

  “I think she has a fever,” I told them. But as soon as I stepped away and two paramedics crouched in front of her, she freaked.

  “No… Colton.” She reached for me, her breathing immediately picking up, eyes huge with fear, and tears gushing, so I stepped toward her, except the paramedic waved me back.

  “Sir, we have this.”

  I gritted my teeth and shot the woman a look from hell. Julianna needed me. I wasn’t going to leave her if she wanted me close.

  I didn’t have to say a word, though. Julianna’s dad’s voice spoke up, commanding, “Let him stay with her. She gets hysterical otherwise. He’s the only one who’s been able to keep her calm.”

  I kind of loved him in that moment.

  He had such a powerful presence, the woman nodded reluctantly and waved me forward. “You’re going to have to stay out of our way though so we can take care of her.”

  “I understand.” Taking Juli’s hand, I kneeled by her again, moving in close so I could kiss her temple. “Baby doll, these people need to check you over and make sure you don’t have any wounds that need to be immediately taken care of.”

  She nodded as she pressed her cheek against my chest. “Okay.”

  As long as she could touch me, she let them do their thing, flashing lights in her eyes and taking her blood pressure, temperature, and such. She even answered their questions, though she gripped my shirt in one hand hard as she did so.

  “There’s a lot of blood on you, Juli,” the female paramedic said kindly. “Do you know if any of it’s yours?”

  “Maybe,” Julianna croaked. “I think so. Stabbed.”

  “You were stabbed?”

  When she nodded, I breathed, “Jesus,” and closed my eyes.

  They asked her where, and Juli lifted her shirt enough to show them her abdomen, where two nasty slashes were still oozing blood.

  I whimpered.

  The EMT examined it before nodding. “Good news is it looks like you were slashed and not penetrated. Probably just surface damage, but we need to get you into the ambulance so we can clean and patch you up, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  About three of us helped her to her feet. Her legs were unsteady, but she finally gained her equilibrium enough to hold on to me tight as she took her first wobbly step forward. But as soon as they started to help her onto the stretcher, she freaked, diving back to me and clutching me hard, hiding her face in my coat.

  “It’s okay, baby doll,” I assured her, picking her up and simply carrying her to the ambulance, despite the protest of the emergency workers.

  Again, they didn’t want me in the ambulance with them, something about policies and liabilities, but Julianna’s dad once more talked them into letting me stay.

  We finally got her to sit, but she wouldn’t let go of my hand all the way to the hospital, and I had to say, I didn’t mind. It was nice to feel her alive under my fingers. I didn’t want to be apart from her, no matter how hard it was to witness her agony and only imagine what she’d gone through these past few days.

  At the hospital, she was still resistant to being rolled in on her back. She wanted to walk, except she was like a new colt, her steps stuttering and uncertain. So we got her to compromise with a wheelchair.

  I think we broke a ton of hospital rules. She didn’t want anyone cutting her clothes off her, she begged for a shower, she refused to take a rape kit, saying there was no need (thank God), and she wanted no one but me to assist her through all this. Considering what she’d been through, they pretty much let her have her way.

  So after I helped her strip down and turned on the shower water for her, she took one look at the tiny cubicle and turned away, burrowing into me as a fresh sob wracked her body.

  “Shh… it’s okay,” I murmured into her hair. “You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.”

  If I were her, I doubt I’d ever want to step foot into a small space again either.

  But she shook her head. “No, I want…” Her voice broke, going hoarse. She looked up, her eyes begging. “Come with me?” she whispered, pleadingly.

  I nodded immediately. “Of course.”

  The nurse standing by, waiting to assist, said, “I’ll find you something to change into, sir. You have blood all over your clothes, anyway.”

  As she took off, I stripped down as well and took Julianna’s hand before helping her into the shower. She grabbed my wrist when I went to close the curtain, but when I looked at her, she eased her grip and nodded.

  My heart broke. She was scared but still trying to be brave. My brave fighter.

  I helped her rinse off and soap up and rinse again. Once the water was off, I found a towel to wrap around my waist before scrubbing her dry with another. She just stood there, shivering. The nurse and I dressed her in warm socks and a hospital gown as quickly as possible before leading her to the bed, where they had to redress her wounds that had gotten wet. Her fever had spiked to a hundred and six, so they set her up with an IV full of medicine and fluids.

  She had scrapes and abrasions and bruises all over, but the knife slashes on her stomach were the worst of it. I was grateful for that, and yet still worried out of my mind, because I knew her true injuries were ones that couldn’t be bandaged.

  While the nurse fussed over her, getting her more water, I stepped back into the bathroom to pull on the scrubs they’d found for me to wear. After I was clothed again, I paused a moment to look at my face in the mirror.

  It felt strange to look at my reflection and see the same face I’d always seen. Everything felt different now. I should’ve looked into the mirror and seen a stranger. But it was still me, which was so freaking bizarre.

  When my hands began to shake because the reality of what had just happened to her started to set in
, I quickly left the bathroom, unable to deal with that just yet.

  Julianna’s father had arrived while I’d been changing. He and I shared a brief glance and respectful nod before I turned my attention to my girl.

  “You look like a doctor,” she said, blinking at me. Her voice was getting stronger, less rough. I swear she’d been drinking water by the gallon since we’d found her, so maybe that was helping.

  I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively as I approached to sit in the chair across the bed from where her father stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “A sexy doctor?” I asked, taking her fingers when she held out her hand to me. The ends of them were bandaged in white gauze.

  The corners of her lips tipped up in a smile, the first hint of a smile I’d seen from her in three days. “Of course,” she answered, her bruised eyes sparkling with mischief right before she added, “almost as sexy as Dr. Hamilton.”

  Gasping as if hurt, I pressed my hand to my chest. “Oh, baby doll, you wound me.” But honestly, I was grateful she was able to tease.

  Closing her eyes, she kept smiling as she gripped my fingers. “As if.”

  I kissed her scraped knuckles and blew out a shuddered yet relieved breath just as a tap came to the door.

  “Sorry for the intrusion.” The two detectives—Wilson and Hall—stepped into the room, nodding respectfully to Julianna. “But we were wondering if Miss Radcliffe was able to make a statement now.”

  Julianna’s father and I immediately protested, but Juli waved her hand. “I want to get it over with.” But she tightened her grip on my fingers, letting me know she wanted me to stay.

  So I sat there and listened to her entire account.

  And while the officers began their questions, I fought the urge to tell them to fuck off every time she had to pause because her voice went too hoarse. She winced while she swallowed and had to take another drink, continuing. They didn’t have many questions because she was pretty detailed and chronological about the series of events, a fact that made me increasingly sick to my stomach and equal parts awed.