“You and I have nothing, as I’ve repeatedly told you.” Turning his anger on Colin and Donovan, he threatened, “I’m done here until she’s banished.” Without waiting for their response, Mitch strode quickly from the room, anger and worry threatening his composure. As if it wasn’t bad enough that Hannah had listened to Crystal’s garbage without coming to him, an idle discussion with Colin and Jason had revealed something that made him worry sick for Hannah’s safety.
Colin, a former county sheriff, always kept up with crime reports, and when he happened to mention there were no suspects yet in the case of a murdered drug dealer found in the Arboretum, he feared the attempted vandalism of Hannah’s car and her mugging might be related as the murder took place around the time Hannah had a job at the gardens. It was a long shot, highly improbable, but where Hannah was concerned, he wasn’t willing to take any chances. Mitch remembered hearing the news report when the body had been found, but hadn’t thought anything of it until now. As soon as he set her straight on Crystal’s remarks, he’d find out what day the murder had taken place and check with her to see if she had been at the gardens that day.
Kenny pulled over and parked several houses down from the address of the woman who had become the bane of his existence. Finally, he thought, relieved when he saw the large truck that had been in the neighbors drive the last several nights was gone. He had waited almost a week after the botched mugging to attempt a break-in, knowing she would be more cautious after his theft of her purse, only to find she was never alone late at night. The man he had spotted entering her place more than once was big and tended to keep a vigilant eye around her place, definitely not someone he wanted to tangle with.
He wished he could risk leaving work and get this done during the day when there was a better chance of both of them being gone, but that would require taking a full day off so he could sit and wait for her to leave and that would leave him with no alibi if he needed one. Jackie was sitting in their apartment, ready to swear he hadn’t left it all night if need be. He was still debating the wisdom of making this one last effort to get hold of any incriminating pictures this Hannah Hershberger might have. It’s been several weeks since Connor’s body was found and so far, no one seemed to be looking for him. On the contrary, according to the last news report, which was days ago, the police still had no leads or suspects to follow up on.
But Kenny has never been one to leave his fate up to chance. The coast looked clear, the woman’s house dark and deserted, as well as the neighbor’s. Why risk her eventually hearing about the murder then putting two and two together when he could be in and out of her place in thirty minutes? He’s been committing B and E’s since he was twelve, knew how to pick any lock and disable any alarm. If he hadn’t grown so fond of snorting coke, he would’ve stuck with home robberies and never had to do that stint for possession that still gave him nightmares.
Checking the street, he saw it was clear and got out of his car. Dressed in black head to toe, if anyone was up at this hour and happened to spot him, they wouldn’t be able to identify him. It took him only seconds to cut off the electricity, less than a minute to get in through the basement window despite the lock, and thirty seconds more to disable the backup alarm right before it went off. “Damn I’m good,” he praised himself as he went upstairs to look for an office and her computer as well as her camera.
Hannah was still reeling from hurt and uncertainty as she pulled into her drive. Not bothering to drive into the garage, she got out and walked on shaky legs to the front door, dismayed that Mitch hadn’t thought to leave the porch light on. Fumbling with her keys in the dark, she managed to get in only to discover the lights were out in the whole house. “Oh….damn!” she muttered as she groped for the small entryway table and rooted for the flashlight that was kept there. “Great, now I’m cursing. What other vices am I going to succumb to?” she wondered aloud. She had to admit, at this moment it felt damn good to vent her frustration, especially since she didn’t know how to assuage the guilt or the sadness plaguing her over how the night ended. She didn’t even want to contemplate about what the future might hold.
She aimed the flashlight ahead of her as she moved down the hall, intending to get Roxy from her crate when two things happened simultaneously; she remembered Roxy had been staying at Mitch’s when she was gone, crate free lately, and the electricity suddenly came back on, the small lamp she left on in the great room casting a dull amber glow that did little to lift the darkness everywhere else.
A sound from the kitchen drew her attention and added to the disquiet of the house. Panic threatened and the urge to run assailed her when she heard footsteps, but when she saw a man dressed all in black come towards her, surprise and fear kept her rooted in place.
“I know you,” she gasped before she realized her mistake.
Kenny swore, cursing his fucking luck. First he forgot to flip the electricity back on before coming up from the basement and now he was confronted by the very person he was trying to avoid. Her startled acknowledgement of his identity made his heart hammer with anxiety and as she turned to flee, all he could think was he had to stop her.
Hannah turned to run only to feel her head jerked back by her hair, then the man she remembered seeing at the Arboretum was pulling her around and the side of her face exploded in a fiery burst of pain as he backhanded her. The blow knocked her against the wall before she slid to the floor, terror a huge knot lodged in her throat as she struggled to rise.
“What do you want?” she managed to gasp, wondering what on earth she had done to make this man hate her so.
“Do you have me on film, you fucking bitch?” he snarled in her face as he stooped down in front of her, preventing her from standing.
“What are you…oh?” Like a light bulb snapping on, Hannah had a sudden flash of memory, recalling the picture she had caught of him coming out of the closed off garden that day at the Arboretum. But for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine why that would matter to him. “Yes, but why…” Her inquiry ended on a scream that tore through the air when he stood and delivered a brutal kick to her abdomen, his face mottled with rage.
“Fucking bitch, I knew it! Where is it?” Kenny demanded, his frustration and anger blinding him to her pale, pain-filled face and deafening him to the sound of a vehicle door slamming shut out front as he kicked her again. “Tell me, God damn it, before I cut you like I did Connors.” Withdrawing his knife from his boot, he had no time to spill her blood like he was itching to do before the front door was thrown open and he was faced with a madman.
Hannah’s scream made his blood run cold as Mitch got out of his truck. Calling her name, he ran next door and burst in to see an intruder standing over her wielding a knife, a shocked look on his face at his sudden interference. “You son of a bitch,” Mitch swore very softly when he noted the red swelling on Hannah’s face and her shocked, pain-filled eyes. Without thinking, he struck out with his foot, knocking the knife from the man’s hand before taking him to the floor.
The smaller man was no match for Mitch’s size and strength, not to mention his rage, and with only two heavy fisted punches to his face backed by anger fueled adrenaline, he was knocked out cold. Rising, he quickly turned to Hannah, his face paling when she cried out in agony, blood running down her legs.
Agonizing pain, sharp and jabbing like an icicle, lodged in her pelvis right before Hannah felt a warm gush of blood between her thighs. She fought to even her breathing as ice cold terror took hold of her. “Mitch, oh God, it hurts,” she moaned as the pain spread to encompass her whole abdomen. Mitch’s face swam before her as white dots danced before her eyes right before the room spun and everything went black.
“Jesus, Hannah,” Mitch moaned as he quickly dialed 911. Praying she’d wake up and scold him for blaspheming, he ran and found some towels. But she didn’t move, and no matter how tightly he held the towels between her legs, the blood kept coming. Guilt and remorse threatened his composure as he remembered the broken condom and realized Hannah must have gotten pregnant. Apparently her husband had been the one with the infertility problem. Sirens hailed the approach of the police and ambulance, and just in time. The mother fucker who had hurt her was rousing and Mitch knew if the police hadn’t just arrived he’d be going at him with his fists again. Now, all he could do was pray there would be no permanent physical damage to Hannah because of his assault. The emotional damage was a given, but he would bear that burden with her and vowed they would get through this together.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Hershberger,” the doctor told Hannah, his hand on her shoulder feeling more like a lead weight than a comforting clasp. “If it’s any consolation, you’re going to be fine and there’s no reason you can’t get pregnant again.”
Hannah knew he meant to be reassuring, but right now the pain of her loss was too acute to care about anything else. “When can I leave, doctor?”
“In the morning, if you feel up to it. The police are waiting to take your statement then someone will be in shortly to take you to your room. Rest is the best medicine right now. In a few days, you’ll never know you
were pregnant.”
She’ll know, Hannah thought dully, she’ll know and remember how she lost a miracle before she even knew one had been granted her. She managed to stay awake long enough to talk to the police and promise to get the picture with her assailant caught in the background to them. They mentioned a murdered victim being found in the Arboretum whose death coincided with the day she and Melanie were there and they suspected the attempted car break-in and her mugging were attempts to get her camera to destroy any incriminating photos. Thankfully, whatever was in the IV bag hanging above her was potent, and she felt her lids drooping by the time they left, the pain ebbing with each drip. Miscarrying after spending more than a decade thinking she couldn’t conceive was enough emotional trauma to deal with, she really didn’t want to dwell on how close she had been when a murder had taken place or how she had caught the murderer on film.
She barely recalled the ambulance ride to the hospital, but she did remember hearing Mitch’s angry voice making demands that were continually denied. Hannah was just thinking she wasn’t ready to face him again when the curtain to the emergency room cubicle parted and he stood before her. He looked as ravaged as she felt, but somehow she couldn’t rouse herself enough to care right now. Right now, all she wanted was the oblivion the medicine was promising her.
“I’m tired, Mitch. I don’t feel like talking right now. Do you mind?”
Her blue eyes were full of pain and unquenchable sorrow, her voice little more than a broken whisper adding to Mitch’s guilt. A myriad of emotions engulfed him, the foremost was a feeling of such profound depth he hesitated to give it such a mundane label as love. In a few short weeks, the pure, wholesome girl next door had wiggled so deeply under his skin, he knew she was there to stay. But now wasn’t the time to discuss their future.
“I’ll go up with you, stay the night.”
He had that tone, the one that brooked no argument, the one that usually curled her toes and dampened her vagina, the one she never argued with. Until now. “No, but thank you for the offer. Please Mitch, give me some time.”