Before We Fell Read online

  Taking a therapist’s advice to give Riley as stable of an environment as possible hadn’t been easy. When I first got custody of her, my instinct was not to follow through. My parents were in their mid-fifties, as energetic and healthy as they always were. They were young enough to take her. Plus, they at least had raised two decent humans in their life. They knew what they were doing.

  I’d tried to convince my mom one night to take Riley.

  Not my finest hour. Not even close. But damn it, I was clueless.

  I didn’t know much about women except they were emotional, beautiful, and how to make them come…which was not conducive to figuring how to suddenly be responsible for an eight-year-old.

  My parents refused. Amanda’s last wishes would be carried out, but they offered to help as much as possible. After struggling for months and losing Riley a little more every day, I knew the best thing for her wasn’t to be raised by a nanny while her uncle worked sixty hours a week and lived in a condo in the city.

  It was with family.

  So I made one decent choice for Riley, moved back to Carlton, and bought the only decent house I liked that wasn’t in the golf resort neighborhood. But if I was doing this, she was going to live how Amanda and Jake lived, how she and I were raised…in a modest home in a good neighborhood and close enough to enjoy all that small town living.

  Which wasn’t much outside the park at the end of our street.

  Odd, because living in a small town with nothing more than a couple of diners, a one-screen movie theater, and very few parks, was one of the reasons why I’d moved away when I went to college. At least now we were close enough to my folks where they could help out and they did.

  Unfortunately, knowing I needed them also sucked. Needing help meant I couldn’t handle it and I might have known I couldn’t handle this all by myself, but knowing and asking were two completely different things.

  I swung the hammer again, relishing the burn in my muscles. Riley was at the folding table in the living room, shoveling spoonfuls of sugary cereal into her mouth and watching television like she did all day, staring at that stupid mindless tube, not even smiling or laughing anymore when her favorite movies were on. I hadn’t even seen her pick up a toy since we’d been here. No Barbie Doll. No Legos. And the few times I tried to get her to kick the soccer ball around with me went completely ignored.

  But I was still fucking trying. It was just more exhausting trying to figure out how to connect with her than it was to tear out a kitchen or start building the addition I was working on at the same time.

  If I stopped working, I’d have too much time on my hands to think. And thinking these days only made me want to start drinking. Thinking made me miss the firm, even if I was still consulting with them on a few of my old cases. Thinking made me feel lost. Thinking made me miss my damn sister so much it was liable my fist would end up through a wall instead of a sledgehammer.

  Thinking sucked.

  I was mid-motion swinging again when the doorbell rang.

  I dropped the hammer but before I could move, Riley pushed back from the table and on wooden legs, with her eyes missing the damn sparkle she used to always give me, she picked up her backpack and trudged toward the front door.

  “Come in!” I shouted. This early, it could only be my mother.

  She took Riley to school every morning, stopping by our place on her way into town for her morning errands. She promised it was no problem, and that meant I got more work done during the day. A win-win.

  Plus, Amanda always used to take Riley to school and since my niece looked at me like I was gum on the bottom of her shoe, I figured my mom taking her was the better choice.

  “Good morning,” my mom’s voice rang out before I could see her at the back of the house.

  “Come on in,” I called back, grabbing a towel so I could wipe my hands.

  Like I always thought when I saw my mom, I grinned at how good she still looked. She’d had me when she was twenty, and at barely fifty-five now, Krystal could still pass for a woman only a few years older than me. She took care of herself, worked because when you live on a ranch, you always worked, but she was also stylish despite that I knew she’d been up since four working with the horses she trained.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said when she peeked her head around the corner.

  Riley stood off to the side, her mess of blonde hair getting worse by the day but she would run away whenever I tried to get her to brush it.

  “Leave it be,” my mom had said once. “She’ll come to you when she needs you.”

  The problem was that Riley always used to come to me. She’d run to me and demand I’d fling her in the air until she laughed so hard she was breathless and her tummy hurt.

  Now, she spent more time running away from me.

  I missed my damn niece.

  And I was a horrific father-substitute.

  “You ready for school?” I asked, going to her and crouching down so I was at her eye level. I forced a smile, even though none of them felt right anymore.

  She nodded, and I reached out to squeeze her hand, but she pulled back. That killed. If she could just tell me what I was doing wrong, I could fix it. But I wasn’t a mind reader and I had no idea how a child’s worked, especially not one who’d been through as much as she had been.

  “Okay then.” I stood and curled my hand around her little shoulder, giving her a quick squeeze. If I moved fast, I could show her affection before she moved away from it. “I’m picking you up after school today, remember?”

  “You are?” my mom asked, surprise registering on her raised brows.

  “Yeah, her teacher wants to talk.”

  “Oh.” Her brows furrowed. “Didn’t you talk to her at the pre-year conferences?”

  I scrubbed the towel I was holding between my hands and tossed it over my shoulder. Glancing at my mom, I cringed. “I sort of forgot.”

  She sighed but stayed silent. It was the loudest sigh I’d heard all week, the whisper of disappointment that no matter how hard I tried, none of it was good enough.

  “I know, I know.” I scrubbed a hand through my short hair and slammed my hands to my hips. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  My mom nodded once and grinned. It was the sad, pitiful grin all of us gave these days. “We all are.”

  Perhaps we wouldn’t be so damn sad if we had closure, or vengeance, or some damn justice, but the man who had shot down Amanda and Jake hadn’t been found and even though we all knew Riley saw everything, we’d questioned her very little. She gave us enough to know what happened but when it came to describing the man, her little mouth had clamped shut.

  Then she slowly quit talking altogether.

  And God, what I wouldn’t give to hear her burst with a laugh every once in a damn while. Something to smother the silence and weight permeating the damn house.

  Mom turned to Riley and held out her hand. “Come on, pumpkin. Ready for the day?”

  Riley looked at my mom’s hand, back to me, and turned, heading toward the front door.

  “Anything today?” my mom asked.

  “Not a word. And I tried getting her to open up about whatever happened yesterday and she said nothing.”

  “Something happened?”

  “That’s what her teacher said. I even tried taking her out for ice cream and still didn’t get a peep out of her.”

  “Hmm.” My mom’s lips twisted. This was hard for everyone but had to kill my mom.

  We were both clueless and all the therapist’s advice I’d been following hadn’t helped much either.

  “Just give it time.” Everyone kept saying it.

  Too bad that patience wasn’t something I’d ever learned. Or practiced.

  “All right,” she said, kissing my cheek. “Have a good day. Don’t work too hard.”

  “I will.” I grinned as my mom laughed. She knew me too well. Heading around the corner, I went to where Riley stood by the front door, eyes on the blank wall acros
s from her, shoulders hunched, hands curled around the straps of her backpack.

  I leaned down and kissed the top of her head before she could dart away. Stealth affection. That’s how I had to get to her. “Have a good day, Squirt,” I teased her like I always did. “Be a good friend and no kissing boys, okay?”

  I said it to her every day, and every day she turned to me, scrunched up her face in an ew gesture.

  The highlight of my day had become a face. I’d say it to her every day until she stopped showing a reaction.

  “Love you, Squirt,” I said, this time quieter. “I’ll see you later.”

  “K,” she said it and glanced away, like she hadn’t meant to speak at all and goddamn.

  How in the hell was I going to fix this? Fix her? Or me for that matter?

  Four

  Lauren

  * * *

  My eyes were on the clock as I stood by the door, watching all the kids get ready to head home. The day was winding down and my students were gathering their book bags along with their daily planners and assignments. It wasn’t much for third grade, some nightly reading sheets and addition problems. I didn’t enjoy giving a lot of homework, just enough to reinforce what we learned that day and the math sheets were two minutes of timed problems.

  On my desk sat Riley’s drawing from yesterday, in a file folder so none of the other kids saw it and asked questions. I’d kept an eye on Riley all day, unable to help it. She already had her backpack ready to go but instead of lining up at the door with the other kids, she was sitting at her desk, arms folded over her backpack with her chin resting on top.

  Apparently her uncle had told her he was coming today after school and she wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

  At two minutes to go until the bell rang, I gathered the twenty-plus students into their correct lines. One for busses, one for parent pick-up and one for the walkers.

  “Riley,” I called out when she stayed sitting. “I know you’re staying later, but will you help me?”

  “She can’t even talk,” a little boy whispered close to me. The one next to him snickered.

  I bent down and hushed him. “What’s our rule?” I asked quietly.

  His face scrunched. “Be kind or be quiet.”

  “Thank you.” I grinned, pressed my hand to the top of his head, and stood. “Let’s practice that tonight, okay?” I said to everyone. Riley had been far enough away, I didn’t think she heard him and as the bell rang, she reached my side.

  “I’m not sure I know where I’m going,” I said to her, the kids in line getting antsy to head out. “Will you help show me where the office is?”

  The kids in line for the busses would splinter off before we reached the front office where the rest of the kids would wait.

  I held out my hand to her, smiling. She stared at her feet but slowly, oh so slowly it hurt to watch, she looked up and placed her hand in mine.

  “All right then! Everybody ready?”

  “Yes, Miss Frazier!” they all rang out just a few seconds before the bell rang. I stepped back and opened the door, and as we walked down the hallway, Riley and I leading the way, that soft little palm curled around mine had never felt so sweet.

  It felt like a victory. Another small one.

  This time I wouldn’t screw it up.

  We walked side-by-side through the school hallway until we were at the front of the school. After dismissing the kids who would walk and wait to get picked up by parents in the car line, I grinned down at Riley, whose hand was still in mine.

  “Now, you have two choices,” I said, and her little head tilted up to look at me.

  Progress. Better than staring at her feet.

  When she didn’t say anything, I continued, “We can wait in the office until we see your uncle, or we can wait for him in the classroom. Which do you want to do?”

  It was intentionally a question that demanded an answer and for a moment, as she looked back down the hallway and then toward the door, I thought she wouldn’t choose either. But just as slowly as she’d put her hand in mine, she pointed down the hallway, and said, “Your room.”

  “Okay then.” I squeezed her hand and loosened it, expecting her to pull away. To my surprise, she gripped me harder.

  We walked down the hallway, dodging other classes still being dismissed, and when we turned and reached the hall leading to my room at the very end, I stopped.

  “Do you like to run?”

  Her eyes slid in my direction and she gave me a shrug.

  “Do you like to crawl?”

  Her nose wrinkled.

  “Do you like to skip?”

  She tilted her head back and gave me a funny look, but a little sparkle brightened her eyes and her expression

  Success.

  “I like to skip,” I said, pulling my gaze off her and toward the end of the hallway. “And if you can promise to keep a secret, I’ll tell you one.”

  I glanced at her quickly to see her lips were fighting a smile.

  It felt like another victory.

  I pressed on, and bent down so I had to whisper, “Can you keep a secret?”

  Her smile dimmed and she bit her lip. Then she nodded quickly.

  “Sometimes, after school, when I’m here alone, I skip down the hallway.” Total lie. If teachers or administrators saw me skipping down the hallway, they’d never let me live it down, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

  Her eyes flashed. Warm and bright and her shoulders shook, not with her usual shrug, but with glee.

  “Would you like to skip with me?”

  Another head nod, more rapid, more happy.

  I squeezed her hand and turned down the hallway. Before she could pull out of my grip, I skipped.

  Like a fool. Like an utter moron. It didn’t matter. By the time we reached my door at the end of the hallway, I was breathless from rushing and giggling. At my side, Riley’s grin was so full, her eyes alight with so much joy, tears sparked behind my lids.

  Footsteps clicked on the linoleum floor behind us and we whipped our heads in the direction.

  Behind us, Noah Wilkes was there, headed our way. A faded green shirt curved over his chest and dark-washed denim jeans fell to his feet where he wore black, shined, dress shoes.

  Yikes. The man was prettier in person than he was in his photo in the newspaper.

  I yanked my eyes off his body to his face as Riley tugged her hand from mine. As I caught the fierce expression etched into the features on his face, my own smile evaporated. He held himself rigidly, arms tight at his sides, quick steps carried him toward us as if he was intent on squaring off with me.

  His jaw jutted out like he was disgusted at the foolishness he’d witnessed.

  I pushed through the unease swirling inside me and held out my hand. “Hello. Mr. Wilkes?”

  “Noah,” he said, and his eyes narrowed, shoulders fell as Riley stepped away from me. He held out his hand, not even sparing me a glance, his focus solely on his niece. “Miss Fisher, correct?”

  “Frazier,” I corrected. “Miss Frazier.”

  I typically didn’t mind parents calling me by my first name, but in the presence of the students, I always used the more appropriate way for their sake.

  “Right.” Still looking at Riley, he continued, “How you doing, Squirt? Good day at school today?”

  His voice changed when he spoke to her, went friendlier but still tense. Like he was trying…but too hard and she didn’t know what to do with it.

  She nodded once, head bobbing and her tangled curls bounced before she turned and walked into my room. From my view in the doorway, she went straight to her desk and pulled out a notebook and pencil. Head down, she proceeded to act like we weren’t even there.

  “So, what’d you want to talk about?” Noah said, and his voice was closer than it’d been before. I turned and almost slammed into him. As I had watched Riley, he had moved closer, eyes on her as well, and it was then I noticed the stress lining his eyes
, hardening his features in a way that made an ache pierce my chest. “She okay?”

  “I think that’s what I wanted to ask you.”

  His gaze slid to me and narrowed. Tiny lines dug into the outer edges of his eyes and his lips pressed together. “I’m assuming you know her story. And if that’s the case, then her parents are dead. How okay is she supposed to be?”

  He spit the words out at me quietly but forcefully, making me take a step back. He was too close, anger bubbling off him in palpable waves, and who could blame the guy?

  “I understand that,” I replied. “But there are still concerns I have, and it’d help me if you could at least speak with me about what she’s like at home, what sort of things she likes.” He continued glaring at me. I could hardly stand the force of it without shaking in my ballet flats. “I want to show you something.”

  I turned and headed into my room, leaving him in the hallway and hoping he stayed there. The last thing I wanted was Riley overhearing us talk about her.

  I grabbed the folder holding her drawing from yesterday and on my way back, paused at her side. “What are you drawing, Riley?”

  She pushed the paper away from me, keeping her head down. On the page was nothing more than angles. Sharp lines and scratches, marked with a heavy hand based on the jagged edges and small tears in the paper. This girl was in so much pain. She killed me.

  “Hey,” I said, bending down. “I’m going to talk to your uncle for a minute outside, but while I’m gone, why don’t you draw a picture of something for him? Something that would make him smile?”

  She peered at me through her thick mass of hair, lips twisting. “Okay,” she said, quietly, so quietly I could barely hear her, but it was still the most beautiful sound to me.

  “Good.” I brushed my hand over the top of her head, smiling down at her, and when I stood up, my smile fell.

  Noah stood in the doorway, arms crossed like he was prepared to rip her out of my encouraging touch. Dang. What was it with him that was so unnerving?

  With the folder clutched tightly in my hand, I stepped around him until I was out of Riley’s hearing range if she chose to try.