The rapid staccato of Robin's pounding feet was lost under the deafening thrum of her heartbeat as she ran to the infirmary. She could see Pierce at the end of the hall opening doors, looking in, and then closing them back up. When he heard her coming, he rushed to meet her. She tried to brush past him into the room but he caught her arms. He was talking, but she couldn't hear anything over the roar in her ears.
"Where is he? Is he okay? Where is he?" she gasped.
"They took him to x-ray."
Robin fought against him, knowing she would have bruises because of how tightly he was grasping her.
Softly he murmured until her wild eyes settled on his. "Stop. Settle. He's not here. Look at me. Okay?"
She calmed down against the force of his grip and collapsed into his chest.
"He's going to be okay," he said.
She nodded into his shirt. As Pierce's arms came around her, the familiar smells of desert dust and sandalwood enveloped her and the memory of two tangled bodies flushed by the heat of the sun and sand rushed to the surface. The hand at the back of her neck was the one reminder that this was not Terry. Her husband's hands had always found the curve of her lower back. This hand caressed the back of her head at the neckline. Robin stepped back.
He let her go and nodded to the empty room across the corridor. Robin quietly opened the door hoping there had been some mistake. She walked to a chair under the window and sat down staring blankly at the floor. Pierce crouched before her. He took her hands and placed Andrew's wallet into them.
Idly, she flipped it open. A worn photograph had been tucked behind the plastic where most people stored a license. The plastic had become foggy over time but behind the scratches, she saw Andrew in the shape of the eyes and the curve of the jawline. When did her little boy begin to look so much like his father?
A single fat tear fell and splashed on her wrist as she slipped the picture from the wallet. "I remember the day the state trooper pulled into our driveway. Andrew was six. He was so excited to see the police car. He had no idea why...that his father had..."
Pierce moved away, and Robin tucked the picture back into its pocket. The silence became too big.
"What was he doing out there?"
Pierce was quiet, and Robin looked up to see why he hadn't answered. He stood at the window with a faraway look in his eyes. The light from the dome outside transformed his deeply tanned skin to gold. If there were angels, then surely this was how they looked. Except for the jaw. Pierce's mouth was set in a straight line and the angles around his cheeks and temple that had been softened with age were stretched taut. The muscles in his cheek pulsed over clenched teeth.
"Pierce?" He didn't move. Not even his eyes. Robin reached out and lightly touched his arm. "Pierce?"
"I shot him."
"What?" Robin pulled back. Her eyes grew wide with horror as Pierce's words sank in.
"I shot Andrew. I didn't know it was him." Pierce's eyes searched her face and begged for understanding. "Robin, I swear."
"I don't understand. You shot Andrew?" She stood up and moved to brush past Pierce. "Where is he? I need to find him."
Pierce caught her arm. "He's with Doc. He's going to be fine."
"How could you do this? How could you shoot my son?" Anger tinged Robin's words.
"I don't know. He was with the other..." Pierce drew a ragged sigh and pushed down his anguish. "He's a man. He was in the–"
YOU ARE READING
Argent Glass
Mystery / ThrillerThe day Andrew's best friend tells him there's a no-fly zone near their homes changes everything. One minute they're talking conspiracy theories, the next they're hiking into a restricted zone to uncover what they suspect is another Area 51. The arm...