Completely Wrecked: A Dramatic Romance Page 7

  The love behind the inheritance, the intention, was what mattered most as Elizabeth sat in their converted craft room alone. Not the money.

  She looked around the space at the shelves filled with fabric, ribbon, glue, and hundreds of other supplies.

  For years, they’d sat in this room, happily learning and creating pretty things together. They always forgot that what they were doing was work.

  Many of their best conversations happened here and there had been so much laughter that Elizabeth wondered how it could possibly be so silent.

  There was no way she could continue doing it alone. It wouldn’t be the same anymore. She would call Nana’s best friend and help her take over the running of things.

  Olive’s granddaughter Dani was wheelchair-bound and computer savvy.

  Between the two of them, they could do it and it would continue to provide for Dani as it had always provided for Elizabeth.

  Decision made, she put her plan in action.

  * * *

  When the majority of her inheritance was protected in conservative interest-bearing accounts, Elizabeth invested a little carefully and gave herself an allowance to live on while she was still in school.

  Life without Nana was colder, quieter and Elizabeth struggled with loneliness.

  Riley and Donovan tried to fill the gap left behind but there was only so much of their time and attention she was willing to take. She imagined that being in any relationship was hard but being a gay couple came with much different obstacles. Seeing them thrive was crucial and that meant keeping their focus on each other.

  She ran, she studied, and she helped Olive and Dani transition to running the business.

  The two women were floored that Elizabeth would simply hand it into their care but she made it clear that Nana would approve.

  Dani was unable to talk, paralyzed on one side due to a severe stroke at birth. Her brain was fully functioning and the fact that she was usually happy and smiling was a testament to the spirit of love that infused their lives.

  Olive, more than a decade younger than Nana, was still healthy and active. Between the two of them, the business would continue to thrive.

  * * *

  At first, Elizabeth felt funny going to the same places she’d always gone with her grandmother but soon, staying away was far more painful.

  The first time she appeared at the soup kitchen, the other volunteers welcomed her with open arms.

  From that day on, she returned to the schedule she’d kept with Nana and tried to heal from the loss that throbbed painfully when she was still.

  It was best to work herself to exhaustion so she was able to sleep.

  She didn’t notice the gradual feelings of isolation that grew insidiously – even when she was among people she loved. Ignoring them, she wrapped her happy persona around herself and carried on.

  Those feelings would not be ignored forever.

  Chapter Seven

  Elizabeth was returning from a run in the fall when the sight of Dylan Lang crumpled on her porch brought her to a sudden halt.

  He could barely lift his head but when he did, she covered her mouth in agony. Beaten and gaunt, it was the expression of intense sorrow, tears streaming down his cheeks that caused her to gasp.

  For the first time in months, her own pain receded.

  “Dylan…what happened?” Hurrying to his side, she crouched and wrapped her arms around his torso. “Let me get you inside. It’s too cold out here.”

  Lifting with all her strength, she managed to get him upright. His sobs were louder now, shaking his entire frame, and everything inside her stretched toward him.

  “It’s going to be alright, Dylan. Let me help you.” By the time she got him to the bathroom on the second floor, he was groaning and stumbling.

  Quickly grabbing clothes and towels, she set to work peeling dirty garments from his body. Only when he was down to his boxers did she understand how much weight he’d lost.

  She filled the tub with water and guided him carefully to it. The moment he slid fully into the water and laid his head back on the old-fashioned tub, Dylan was asleep.

  She rested cool washcloths over his swollen face and a particularly bad bruise on his chest.

  Elizabeth used a cloth to bathe what looked like months of grime from his body, draining and refilling the tub twice. His nails were overgrown, his teeth yellow and grungy, his hair matted with oil and debris. There was a ragged wound around one wrist that made her stomach queasy.

  Several scenarios passed through her mind as she tended to his injuries and hygiene. None of them seemed real or possible.

  It was after she trimmed his nails and was taking a brush to them that he opened his eyes. They were sunken in his face, dark crescents beneath; dull for the first time since the day she met him.

  “Carol is dead…my little sister is dead. She OD’d and drowned in her own vomit on a filthy mattress in an abandoned house. They didn’t find her body for three days.”

  Tears fell fast and hard from the corners of his eyes. “I didn’t save her. I didn’t save her, Lizzy.”

  “Dylan, look at you. You’ve been brutalized again. How could any of it be your fault?”

  He curled his fingers around hers. “The night I was arrested…I attacked her dealer. He didn’t press charges because of Carol but that didn’t stop him from continuing to sell to her. My fifteen-year-old sister sold herself to her dealer to keep me out of prison.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “I don’t understand, Dylan. None of that would have happened if she wasn’t using in the first place.”

  “She felt guilty for what was happening to me. Carol knew why I stayed.”

  “Her solution was to put you in more danger? I’m sorry, Dylan…she had her own struggles and it’s horrible that she fell victim to drugs but that isn’t your fault.” She gestured at his body. “You’re still here. You’re still fighting to survive. Who was supposed to save you?”

  A small smile flickered over his face but it turned sad. “You, Lizzy…you save me.”

  “You can’t go back there.”

  “She unchained me this morning. I don’t know how long I was down there this time. A couple of days ago, she told me about Carol and said there wasn’t a reason to keep me around anymore. She threw a bag at my feet and told me to get out.” He rested his head on the back of the tub, tears trailing into his hair. “I lost the bag.”

  In her lifetime, there would be few instances when Elizabeth would feel true anger. Gentle by nature, anger didn’t sit well on her and she tried to control her emotional state at all times.

  The casual way Dylan spoke of being chained – like an animal – in what sounded like a basement, where he had obviously been starved and left without a way to even keep himself clean…the fury that bubbled up inside her was terrifying.

  Elizabeth schooled her features and steadied her breathing. She knew it wasn’t the time to question Dylan or rant about her own feelings regarding his treatment.

  However, she made a promise to herself: one day, she would confront his tormentor if for no other reason than to let Dylan’s stepmother know that someone outside that home knew what she’d done.

  Other than that, she was positive that the woman’s evil nature would curl in on itself.

  When evil had no outlet – it ate the carrier.

  That had been one of Nana’s favorite sayings – the way she kept anger and revenge from consuming her when she was unable to alter how some behaved toward the people around them.

  She focused on scrubbing his nails clean, trimmed his toenails, and had him sit forward so she could wash his hair. It took three washings for her to be satisfied that it was clean. As she carefully wiped his swollen face, his eyes stayed on hers.

  “Thank you, Lizzy.”

  “You’re welcome, Dylan. Let’s get you out so I can make you soup. You can have as much broth as you want but we’ll have to be careful about solids for a couple of days. I want you to
hold it down.”

  “How do you know stuff like that?”

  Cupping his face in her palm, she told him, “Nana and I have fed people on the verge of starvation for years. We learned how to get them used to food again.”

  “Will she be upset…that I’m here with you like this?”

  Her heart stumbled painfully in her chest. “Dylan…” Her voice broke and she started again. “Do you remember when you were locked in the basement?”

  “Summer…sometime.”

  “Nana…my Nana passed away at the end of July. Dylan…it’s October.”

  “Your…your grandmother died?” That it was the first thing he said touched her and she nodded.

  “I’m so sorry, Lizzy. So damn sorry. I know how close you were. She was an incredible person.”

  “Thank you. She liked you, too.”

  A frown formed on his face and it was horrifying with the swelling. “Wait…that was more than three months ago. She locked me up for three months.”

  He closed his eyes and swayed in the tub. “No wonder I went a little crazy.”

  * * *

  For the next two months, Dylan lived in her house. Elizabeth focused on school and nursing him back to full health.

  Riley started spending more time in the city at Donovan’s place and she didn’t blame him. He was worried and she refused to listen to reason.

  At first, she was able to remain somewhat detached. Dylan was dreadfully malnourished and it had affected his immune system. His joints and muscles ached and two of his back teeth had to be removed, too far gone for even a root canal.

  Thanksgiving was unusually awkward because no one knew what to make of his presence in Elizabeth’s life. She didn’t know either. They talked about many things but nothing truly personal.

  She’d put him in the empty guest room beside hers, uncomfortable with having him in her room without knowing what he wanted or expected from her.

  BiBi insisted on cutting his hair while she was at the house and Donovan brought over several bags of his clothing that he knew would fit.

  Riley was the only one who watched Dylan warily. Though he remained polite, his usual buoyant nature wasn’t evident around their houseguest and Elizabeth didn’t understand why at the time.

  Little by little, he got better. Regular meals and a safe place to rest worked wonders on his mental and physical health. He started smiling more and gave himself time to grieve his little sister.

  Elizabeth found her obituary in the local paper at the library and read that Carol’s funeral was held weeks before Dylan was released. He had nothing, not even a photo of his sister, to remember her by. He sometimes talked about a silver locket he’d given her for her birthday years before that held a picture of the two of them.

  She could feed him, clothe him, and help him heal but there was only one person who could provide what she knew he needed.

  Mind made up, Elizabeth left the house for her morning run and detoured to the newer housing development where Dylan’s stepmother lived.

  Knocking on the door, she thought about her Nana. She had a feeling she’d need every lesson her grandmother had ever taught to get through this.

  The door swung open and the woman standing in front of her couldn’t have surprised her more.

  She wasn’t very tall, possibly five-five, with blonde curly hair and ice blue eyes. It was not what she expected Donna Lang – Dylan’s tormentor for more than twelve years – to look like.

  At first, Elizabeth wondered if she had the wrong house.

  “Can I help you?” her voice was soft, almost delicate.

  Her eyes were wide, similar to the way baby animals looked at people. Suddenly, it was clear that her mannerisms were deliberate affectations. Nana wouldn’t have been fooled.

  Neither was Elizabeth.

  “I’m a friend of Dylan’s.”

  The moment the words left her mouth, Donna’s entire demeanor changed right in front of her. Gone was the fragile naiveté she used as a cloak.

  Resting one hand on the doorframe, her other on her hip, she smiled slowly. It was the most terrifying smile Elizabeth had ever seen.

  “You must be Lizzy.” The woman knowing her name staggered her for a moment. “You’re the only friend he ever mentioned in this house.”

  Running her eyes over Elizabeth, her ferocious smile turned into a smirk. “He never described you. You don’t seem like his…type.”

  In the back of her mind, Nana whispered, “She’s trying to rattle you, so you don’t confront her.” With a deep breath, she decided to state her business.

  “He’s been recovering at my house for the past few weeks.”

  “I just bet.”

  Her implication and exaggerated wink made Elizabeth want to punch her in the face. Donna Lang would be the only person in her life ever to provoke such a response.

  Enough of her games.

  “Actually, the mental and physical toll of starvation, lack of sunlight or fresh air, and regular beatings tend to make one unable to focus on much beyond getting better one day at a time.”

  Cold fury flickered across the pale eyes before she blanked her expression. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  Now who’s rattled?

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Elizabeth waited several seconds to reply. “You don’t?” Unblinkingly, she looked into the woman’s eyes.

  “I happen to be excellent friends with the mayor and two of the city councilmen. My Nana was a respected member of our community for decades.”

  She paused to smile gently. “I don’t know many police officers personally but I’m certain they do. I wonder how much physical evidence of what Dylan went through is scattered all over your house…particularly your basement. You don’t strike me as the type to go through the place with bleach and a scrub brush.”

  Moving her hands to her hips, she watched a small tick begin in the older woman’s cheek.

  “Dylan’s extensive injuries have been documented by doctors and dentists. X-rays done several weeks ago show bones that have been fractured repeatedly but there are no medical records showing that he was ever taken to a doctor of any kind. Even his school vaccinations were done at a free clinic. Two broken teeth were rotted to the point that they had to be removed.”

  Stepping closer, Elizabeth used her height to intimidate the smaller woman. It was something she never did before or after that day. “I do not care what happens to you. It’s important that you understand how much I mean that.”

  Donna’s response was a low hiss. “What do you want?”

  “Photos of him with Carol, anything belonging to his sister that he can keep as a memento, to remember her. Particularly a silver locket she received from him that had their picture inside.”

  Her laugh was acidic. “Why would he want pictures of that crack whore?”

  Elizabeth almost slapped her and the way her hand jerked made Donna flinch in fear. She methodically counted to ten before she replied.

  “My Nana would have known exactly what to say to shame you…what to say that would have kept you up at night, remembering what you did to those children.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have her skill. What I do have is half a foot on you and a cell phone. Right now, I’m going to call to check in with the mayor and find out what he needs me to bring for his auction. By the time I have full details, I suggest you be standing here with a few things of Carol’s that I can take to Dylan as compensation for the horror you put him through.”

  So saying, she took out her phone and called the mayor.

  Their quilts were hits every year at his auctions to raise money for the local parks. He’d given her his personal number years before and she’d never called it.

  He answered on the second ring.

  “Good morning, Mr. Mayor.” She leaned against the wall of the house with a smile. “I’m sorry, good morning, Samuel.”

  Listening for a moment, she replied, �
�I’m doing better, sir. Thank you. Yes, it’s hard not to have her with me but I’m trying to stay busy. School, continuing Nana’s work in the community, and I have a new boarder…his name is Dylan Lang.”

  Glancing at Donna, Elizabeth quirked her brow. The woman’s eyes went wide and she left the front door standing open as she raced up the stairs. There was the sound of doors opening, closets sliding, and drawers being slammed.

  Half-listening, she caught up with a man who had once taken coffee from Nana at an AA meeting. Not in recovery herself, the elderly woman liked to talk to people who were. That day, Jewel Clayton made a friend who would never forget her.

  Samuel Heller would go on to finish college and do great things. At Nana’s funeral, he credited her kindness and lack of judgment as a turning point in his life.

  Donna appeared in the doorway looking far less composed. She held up the open locket and Elizabeth smiled at the photo of Dylan and Carol. She dropped it in an open bag that was filled with random things.

  The necklace was the only thing that mattered but she accepted whatever was inside and slung the strap over her shoulder.

  “I’ll bring three this year.” She laughed. “I want that new jogging path. It was so good talking to you, Samuel. I will. Yes, I’ll see you at the benefit. Have a great day.”

  Disconnecting the call, Elizabeth tucked the phone in the waist of her insulated running pants.

  “Thank you, Donna. As long as you never bother Dylan again, you won’t see me.” She turned to go but at the edge of the porch, she paused.

  Meeting the woman’s gaze, she said clearly, “May your evil devour you in tiny pieces.”

  There was fear in Donna’s eyes.

  Without another word, Elizabeth took off running in the direction of her home…and Dylan.

  Chapter Eight

  Dylan’s gratitude for the locket was…effusive. He didn’t even glance at anything else in the bag once she placed the inexpensive silver necklace in his hand.

  “I don’t know how you did it, Lizzy but you’re an angel.”

  His smile was brilliant and she returned it a moment before he took her in his arms and hugged her harder than she’d ever been hugged.