Second Chances(72)

Paige hugged him tightly from behind, burying her head between his shoulders. She wasn't sure which of them was sobbing more.

"I didn't then, nor do I now believe for even a single instant that Paige killed herself."

She held him tightly, afraid to let go. The room seemed to be spinning around her. How had this woman relayed the story of her life to Nathan? That fire happened to me, not her, right? And yet his Paige had told him about it before she herself had experienced it. How was it possible? Had she killed herself? Why would she? Could the same thing happen to her? What could ever make her kill herself? Or was Nathan right and it was murder. If they had killed his Paige, would they, whoever they were, try to do the same thing to her?

The room continued to spin around her. The edge of her vision dimmed and then the floor was rushing up to meet her.





CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO



Under the covers and the cover of darkness, Jason massaged his aching muscles. He had spent the first hour after he'd been put to bed just flexing his fingers and rubbing his palms. It had been excruciating, but compared to the pain he was in now, that first hour had been near bliss. His right leg hurt more than any other part of his body. He struggled to remember why. Something had happened to it. How long ago? A week? A month? Years? He fought the fog in his head, but it was a losing battle. It might come to him eventually but it wasn't something he could fight through by shear force of will alone.

"A warning," he said aloud and startled himself. He looked around the room and almost laughed when he realized he was the source of the words.

He nodded. A warning indeed. That was it. His leg had been a warning. But from whom and about what?

He flexed his legs some more and his knees throbbed. He welcomed the pain, he knew it was a good sign, though he wasn't sure why.

He pulled back the sheets and slowly worked himself into a sitting position. He sat there for a minute and listened. He knew they checked on him during the night. On him and the others. But he wasn't sure how often. He thought that they had been by only about thirty minutes before, but he did not trust his sense of time. He heard no footfalls outside, but sometimes he didn't. Some of them wore soft-soled shoes, some even slippers.

He decided to risk it and pushed off the mattress. He wobbled for a minute, his legs feeling like jello. He cursed as he dropped back onto the mattress. He walked almost every day. Sarah worked with him on range of motion exercises, helping maintain muscle tone. Walking almost always involved some pain, especially getting up from a sitting position, but he was always able to do it. He just never did it without assistance and it never hurt this much.

It must have something to do with that stuff she'd given him. Julie, he reminded himself. The stuff Julie had given him. Whatever it had been, it had definitely caused the pain. He was certain of that, but he was also certain she had done it for a good reason. He just wished he knew what those reasons were. What infuriated him more was that he was certain that somewhere inside he did know. It was so hard to think through the pain.

"Okay, once more. For Paige," he said as he rubbed his legs and again tried to stand. His legs wobbled again, but held. He clenched his fists and shook them in victory. The tears in his eyes a mixture of pain and triumph.

He moved his left leg forward a little, then pulled his right one. It wasn't a pretty step, but it was a step. He ignored the pain and took another. He made it to the door, held onto the doorknob for a minute while he caught his breath and then turned around and slowly, painfully made his way back. He turned and dropped down onto the bed. He was bathed in sweat and his muscles screamed, but still he managed to smile.

In the hall he heard the soft clicking of shoes. He lay back on the bed and tried to lift his legs. They wouldn't move. He knew it was important that he not get caught. There would be too many questions. Questions he certainly couldn't answer. He wasn't sure who would be asking those questions, but he knew that whoever it was wouldn't be someone who had his best interests at heart. He reached out and took hold of the right leg of his pajamas and pulled. He swung the leg into bed. He was breathing hard now, the pain so intense, his heart thundering in his chest. He reached and grabbed the left leg and pulled, but couldn't lift it.

The steps were getting closer. From the next room over, he heard the door open and then close.

"Come on, please," he hissed to himself. He pulled with all his might, his leg lifted and he swung it into bed just as the door opened and light from the hallway poured in. Jason lay as still as possible. He tried to control his breathing, but between the pain and exertion he was huffing and puffing. He coughed. It was a thick hard cough that went on for almost a minute, when he stopped he had managed to slow his breathing a bit.