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Before the doctor could leave, though, Celeste asked, “What’s he talking about, Jackson?”
I glanced at Celeste, then back to Dr. Cole before I answered, “I have fragments of bone hovering too close to my femoral artery. Before you ask, no, Katie does not know. And I’d prefer it if she didn’t find out. She’s under enough stress as it is.”
Several people looked ready to protest, but I continued talking over their complaints. “Before you suggest anything stupid, just know I will not leave her while she’s asleep. Plus, I need some time with Foster to discuss some things.”
The doctor said, “I can work with that. I pulled some strings and got you admitted to this room. I also scheduled the surgery for first thing in the morning.”
I nodded and walked to Katie’s bedside. I brushed her hair away from her face. She hummed, rolling toward me. I whispered in her ear, “The team’s here, sugar. I’ve gotta talk with Foster, butI’m leaving Hayden and Marcie with you. I’ll be right back. I promise.”
I walked past Hayden and Marcie. “Please watch over her. The only people allowed in this room are the people here now. If the family gets here first, they aren’t to enter without my permission. That includes the chief.”
Hayden looked at me as if trying to figure out what I hadn’t said, but he finally shrugged. “Sure thing, man.”
Foster and I walked into the consultation room just down the hall. When the door shut, I dropped into a chair facing the door. I could feel the emotions charging toward me like the bulls in Paloma. I felt helpless to fight them off.
“Take a few minutes to gather your thoughts, and then I need to know everything you can remember,” Foster said as he leaned back against the wall to face the door as well.
As if my body was awaiting permission, Foster’s words released the tidal wave, and I was buried underneath. I’d shoved everything I felt, all fear, desperation, anguish, and pain, into a tiny ass little box which I’d buried in the recesses of my mind. But the hinges and latch gave away on the weight of everything raging inside, and I was bombarded with it all. Everything hit me at once, not letting me take a breath.
Foster’s hand came to rest on the back of my head, which had fallen to the table, coming to rest there as I sobbed through all the shit we’d gone through and the stuff we still had to deal with.
“Alright, time to shove that shit back into the box and get to work,” Foster said.
I picked my head up and stared at him. Had I not known the man my entire life, I would’ve thought he was kidding, but I knew better. It was something Gee Mom had taught us all from the littlest age. I could still hear her saying the words.
“When life knocks you down, you have two options: wallow in the dirt with the pigs, or get up, dust yourself off, and try again.”
I lived my life by those words. I didn’t know how to quit. None of the Holts did. Add to that, we had three Navy Seals, a Navy pilot, and a Marine Raider in the family. Perseverance and grit were added to the baby food on the ranch.
I closed my eyes and took as deep a breath as possible. I accepted the handkerchief Foster held out to me—another lesson from Gee Mom. A man never left the house without a handkerchief. Two of them, actually, because two is one, and one is none. Katie had even laughed at me about it once when she’d watched me fill my pockets one day.
“Thanks,” I said as I dried my face of the snot and tears that had taken hold for that brief moment Foster had granted me.
Foster set his phone on the table between us, setting it to record.
“Okay, start at the beginning,” Foster said once I was composed.
I crossed my arms over my chest, forcing a hiss as the rough scrub fabric pulled across my abused flesh. “When the SUV was hit, Katie and I were pulled out of the wreckage and thrown into the back of a van. Cargo style with a corrugated metal floor and exposed wheel wells.”
“Was there anything about the van you can remember? Make, model, color? Anything?” Foster asked.
I closed my eyes and tipped my head back. I racked my brain, but…, “Not anything that stands out to me.”
“What color was the interior of the van?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied.
“Jackson, you do know. I want you to close your eyes, take a few deep breaths, and put yourself back in that van.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
He wants me to do what?
“Do it, son. I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t necessary,” Foster urged.
I did as instructed. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead and upper lip as a chill swept through me. With my eyes closed, I felt transported. I could hear Katie’s voice. After following along with the horror show that had started the moment we’d been abducted, I said, “White. The inside of the van was white. The walls and floor both.”
“Good. What happened next?” he asked.
