Damsel in the Dust

32

"Leah?"

Everything is dark. The first thing I am aware of is a rhythmic beeping. The second thing I am aware of is gentle pressure on my hand.

"Leah, can you hear me?"

That voice. It's familiar, but I don't remember so much panic in it before. I try to respond, to tell him that I can hear him and I am okay, but the only sound I manage to make is a strangled gurgle. My throat burns and throbs at the attempt.

I focus on opening my eyes instead. I know I can communicate with him if I can just let him see me, see my full expression. I will my eyes to open, but it feels like they've been weighted down, the lashes too heavy to lift. Come on, I tell them, open! They don't listen, and the darkness swallows me again.

I'm not sure how much time passes before I'm conscious again. This time I am able to open my eyes, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the window. I try to sit up, but my body feels heavy, so I try to turn my head, but my neck aches. I settle for sweeping my eyes over the room, taking in the pastel pink blanket covering me, the tubes snaking over my wrists, the body curled up in an ugly teal chair, the other body leaning over my bed, hands wrapped around mine.

Jake.

"Hi," I croak.

"Leah," he breathes, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. "You scared the hell out of us. How are you doing?"

Honestly, I feel like I've been hit with a truck; croaking out that one word left my throat burning. But that doesn't matter. "Okay. Chris?"

Jake hesitates. "He's in the ICU. He's going to be alright, but he's got a nasty concussion."

"Want see him." I say.

Jake squeezes my hand and smiles. "Stubborn aren't you? We can go see him, but you both need to rest."

I close my eyes, fighting back tears. Chris is okay, I'm going to be okay, Jake is safe, and Maive is asleep in the chair at the foot of my bed. It seems like we're all going to be fine, but...

"Shawn?"

When Jake doesn't answer right away, I open my eyes, searching his face. His jaw is clenched, nostrils flared. The tears spill over his cheeks as he looks up at me.

"He's here," Jake says. My heart races, the monitor tracking it beeping in alarm.

"It's okay, Leah, it's okay. There are a bunch of cops guarding his room. But he did get shot, good clip in his thigh, so he needed surgery before they could arrest him. If you did that, I'm damn proud of you," he whispers.

I manage a small smile before he continues.

"Leah, there's... more. I don't think you could have known, but if you did, I understand why you didn't say anything to us."

More? More about what?

"Shawn, he... he was part of a group. The group that lent people like my parents money, then took them for everything," Jake's words are slow, halting, as he searches my face.

People like Jake's parents... Who were murdered.

The monitor starts beeping rapidly as the implications settle. Did Shawn - was he - he couldn't have...

Jake squeezes my hand, "He wasn't the one, Leah," the beeping slows, "but the police found a bunch of stuff in the office of your barn, and they think they've actually found the people who were responsible. It was all connected somehow, and I know this is all a shit way to find out but Leah, you've brought us closure. We get to see justice. We get to stop running, and you? You're safe. You're the bravest damn woman I have ever met."