Wounded(39)

The other two people, they were far more familiar.

Amelia and Robert Adamson.

My parents.

Fuck, Amelia looked like Berget, even more so now that Berget was older. Nearly white blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and features that would make angels weep for her beauty, even now. Dressed in a pale blue dress, it peeked out from beneath her long white woolen coat. Robert was slim, had his light brown hair slicked back; he was every inch the professional businessman in his Gucci suit. Her eyes widened and then narrowed like a set of shutters.

“No, our only child was killed, you know that, Leslie,” Amelia said, brushing past me so close I caught a whiff of her perfume, a sweet musk, a scent that made my knees buckle with longing to be a child again. To be held and kept safe from the monsters waiting for me in the dark.

To have my mother love and protect me.

Pain, sharp and intense, flared through my chest seeming to rocket through my soul. Robert, my dad, met my eyes and there was sadness there, and I thought for a minute maybe he would say something.

But no, not against Amelia. I held my hand out to him unable to stop myself from trying. His lower lips trembled and a glimmer of tears shaded his blue eyes.

“I can’t. I’m sorry, Rylee.”

Amelia whipped around, her face no longer one angels would weep for. More like run from, with the way her lips contorted and her eyes burned with anger.

“Don’t you speak to her! She is not our child, she is a murderer!”

Robert took his eyes from me. “Amelia, you’re wrong, she didn’t kill Berget. Not Rylee.”

The tears that had been hovering in my eyes flowed down my cheeks. He believed me; my father believed I hadn’t killed Berget. That made this worth it, to know one of them believed.

“Rylee, will you come in?” He held his hand out to me and Amelia choked back a sound that seemed caught between rage and horror as she slapped his hand down. Not that it mattered.

“I just—” I shook my head and slid a hand over my hip my finger brushing against my back pocket. “I can’t right now. I just wanted to see you,” I said, feeling awkward and unsure, like I was a teenager again.

Robert gave me a small smile, reached out and took my hand. “When you can, come and see us. There are a lot of years to catch up on. A lot of things that need to be worked out. Apologies to be given.”

Amelia spun and stormed toward the house, her back rigid, head held high. None of that mattered as my father pulled me gently into his arms, somehow holding me around all my weapons.

“I should have stood up for you then, Rylee. It is my only regret in life, that I let you go when we lost Berget,” he whispered into my ear and I all but collapsed against him. His arms supported me and I clung to him as the tears flowed and the pain that had been with me for so long eased. He patted my back and kissed my cheek. “I am sorry, Rylee. Truly and deeply sorry. We can make this better, though, if you are willing.”

The words were those I’d wanted to hear for the last ten years. That things could be better, that I could have my family back.

I lifted my head and stepped back, swallowing hard, and fighting to speak normally. “I’ll come back when I can.”

His eyes flicked over me, seeming to finally see my weapons, the leather jacket, the hard lines of a body that had been trained to work beyond natural limits.

“Be safe, my girl, whatever you’re doing, be safe.” He kissed the back of my hands like he’d done when I was a little girl, when I’d done something smart or right.

I backed away sliding my hands from his, knowing if I didn’t I would never leave, that I would break down on the doorstep of my home and let the world go to hell in a poorly woven basket.

Lifting one hand to him in a weak wave, I said nothing more. Couldn’t talk past the lump in my throat. With quick steps I spun and headed away from them.

When I hit the corner and was out of sight I broke into a jog and it wasn’t very long before I was back on the street corner with a very nervous looking Pamela, Frank, Alex, Berget, and Erik.

“What the hell was that, Rylee?” Erik asked, his eyes narrowed as if that would somehow make me spill the beans.

“Sorry.” I shook off the emotions tangling up my heart and mind, or at least tried to. Already, the guilt of taking the detour was eating at me. A demon had been brought through and was possessing one of the kids, and I fucked off for a family reunion    . Not really good form, no matter how you looked at it.

Pamela peppered me with questions, but I evaded them, finally going silent. I knew I was probably freaking them out, but I couldn’t talk about it.

They followed me as we worked our way through town. Berget never said anything, never even asked if I’d seen our parents. She knew me well enough not to push, which was funny because we had been apart for years.