Page 13 of Running to You

His brother was crouching over him in the hallway. He pressed a finger over his lips, then held out a hand.

Sam gripped it and allowed himself to be pulled up, then followed Daniel down the stairs. Dim light shone through the windows beside his front door, illuminating the house as they made their way into the kitchen.

“What happened?” Dan sounded concerned. “Did she get sick? You should have woken me.”

It was too early to talk, especially after spending the bulk of the night outside Eliza’s door. He started the coffee brewing, then opened the blinds to let in the day. A glow above the sea on the eastern horizon promised a pretty sunrise.

“Sam.”

He turned to see his brother watching him, impatience etched on his features.

“If she was sick—”

“She had a nightmare. Panicked and broke a lamp.” Which didn’t explain why Sam was sleeping outside her door. “I was worried she’d wake up again and… She was scared. I didn’t want her to be afraid. But I didn’t think I should stay in there with her, so…”

“Did she? Wake up again?”

“I heard her cry out a couple of times and peeked in on her, but she went right back to sleep.”

“From pain, you think, or…?”

How would he know?

He didn't answer the question, just stood in the kitchen, the only sounds coming from the gurgling coffee maker. Finally, it beeped, and he pulled clean mugs from the dishwasher and poured his brother a cup, then himself. They sipped silently.

The coffee warmed him. The caffeine awakened him.

“I saw something last night.” Sam set the mug on the counter as the memory of it raised bile in his throat. “Her sleeve had slid up. She has bruises on her upper arm. They look like…” He didn’t know how to explain it. He reached across his body and grabbed his opposite arm just below the shoulder. And squeezed. “It’s a handprint. I think. I need you to confirm it.”

Daniel’s lips tightened, and he nodded once.

“Not a car accident,” Sam said. “Not an accident at all. Somebody did that to her. Somebody…” He couldn’t voice it.

But he could picture it. A man grabbing her, shaking her. Banging her head into whatever left that lump. Her getting away, running through the forest, based on the leaves in her hair.

He turned away from his brother, squeezed his hands into fists to contain the anger. The idea that somebody would hurt her like that.

That she would leave Sam and run into the arms of an abusive…

And never reach out. Never ask for help. Just…live with it. Suffer. Was a man who physically hurt her really better than he was? He would never have hurt her.

Physically, anyway.

“We don’t know what happened,” Dan said.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

He swallowed a retort. His brother was right. Maybe the attack had been random. Maybe she had left the abuser, and he’d found her. Maybe…

There were too many unknowns to formulate any real theories, though his mind seemed intent on trying.

“We should get the police involved,” Daniel said.

Sam turned back to him. “If she wants to. The thing is, she had a nightmare. I think, deep down, she remembers. So… I mean, you’re the doctor, but that’s a thing, right? Stuffing memories into your subconscious?”

“It is.”