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She couldn’t tell me much more than that about something ongoing, but I knew already she was talking about the FBI. I had buddies on the inside who’d made more than just casual mention about the humanitarian crisis to which it seemed they had a front-row seat.
“My cover was Sacred Heart.” She cleared her throat. “All three of us. Officially we were processing the kids who couldn’t be reunited with their families for whatever reason. I compiled official reports, took stats, then tried to place the kids with the agency I felt best suited them.”
That something heavy was still in the air and I didn’t like it. Something that filled her voice with an emotion I knew wasn’t joy.
“And,” I led slowly, the word dragging out in a way that made it clear it was a bridge, not a question.
“And today I submitted a formal request to adopt a baby girl I placed with them.”
You could have knocked me over with a feather. I sat there with my mouth open, eyes wide, and Bailey nudged my leg a few times before I even realized he was there and reached out to pat his head.
“You’re insane.” That wasn’t at all what I’d meant to say–I’d thought it, but I’d intended that to be an inside voice sort of thing…and now it was out there and she looked hurt. “You’re going to adopt a baby? Madelyn, do you have any idea what that’s going to do to your life?”
Why was I getting so worked up over this?
Oh, right: Because if I’d thought I didn’t have a chance in hell with her before, this really did me in. She’d have less than no time. She’d be exhausted caring for an infant, up at all hours of the night, learning all the new parent things all by herself.
She shrugged slowly, but her face was stony. I could tell I hadn’t just offended her, I’d deeply hurt her feelings.
“I know you’ve spent most of your life being a lot of things to a lot of people.” I took a halfhearted stab at the food on my plate. “You don’t have to be anyone’s guardian angel anymore, VanBuren. You hung up the wings.”
She stood suddenly, grabbed the plate of food she hadn’t touched and walked it back into the kitchen. I heard it scrape across the island counter and turned to see her leaning over the island, her arms spread out to brace herself.
“No, I didn’t.”
I almost didn’t hear her.
“You didn’t what?”
“Hang up my wings.”
What the hell was she talking about?
Bailey gave up on us and flopped down on the floor halfway between Madelyn and me.
“It’s who I am, Adam.” She still hadn’t turned to face me. “Big, scary situations give me purpose and meaning. The adrenaline rush gives me focus. It lets me block out the doubts, the voices, the noises in my head that tell me I’m not good enough, or that I don’t get a second act, or that I’m damaged goods and I don’t deserve to be loved.”
What in the actual fuck?
“I dropped out of college six weeks into my second semester because someone decided what he wanted was more important than what I wanted.”
A ringing started in my ears.
“I went to the university clinic for a rape kit. I was completely lucid for the entire exam, so Iknowthere was one.”
Bile started to rise in my throat and my right fist curled against my thigh. Whether or not she told me his name, I would find out and I would see to it he left the world in agonizing fashion.
“When a cop showed up to take the report, I gave him a very detailed, accurate description. He said I was too calm to be a rape victim, that I should be hysterical and I was dispassionate and clinical, which didn’t make me very believable.”
“What the fuck?” I finally exploded. I couldn’t keep it in any longer.
“When I gave the officer the name, he stopped writing. He went and talked to the doctor and I was left sitting in the room by myself for hours…I was freezing.” She still hadn’t moved. “I don’t suppose I need to tell you the kit and the test results, if there were any, went missing.”
Something about my stance made Bailey nervous and he jumped up, rushing to sit beside Madelyn, tucked right up against her leg, facing me. He was protecting her already.
“You said something about a settlement.” I was reminded of the night she’d clocked the biker at Sammy’s, just before she went to pieces in the parking lot.
“Pyrrhic victory,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t press charges without hard evidence, but my roommate took pictures of the bruising. She corroborated my story to university counsel and I threatened to sue the university for collusion with the Benedetti family. Mario had a lengthy record of assaulting women, and over and over and over it was hushed up.”
