Once a Marine. Loree Lough
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her?”
“I was.”
She hadn’t elaborated. And she’d put extra emphasis on the word physically. Did it mean...
If he couldn’t say it in the privacy of his mind, how did he expect to ask the question out loud?
Practice what you preach, Marshall.
“Do you know if she was, ah, sexually assaulted?”
“She wasn’t.”
That was a relief.
“A bystander screamed and interrupted your sister’s attacker.” The nurse glanced at Libby’s cubicle, and when she looked back at Zach, an admiring smile lit her face. “Witnesses said she fought like a tiger.”
But she hadn’t fought smart. She hadn’t known how. If he’d given her a couple of pointers last time he was home on leave, like she’d asked him to...
He cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose the cops caught the son of a—”
“Not yet, but they have a pretty good description.” She handed Zach a business card. “This officer spent a few minutes with her before the techs took her down to X-ray. He’ll be back in the morning, but said if you have any questions, you should feel free to call, anytime.”
Zach gave the card a quick once-over before tucking it into his shirt pocket. He followed the nurse’s gaze, now fixed on his parents, who sat side by side watching their only daughter sleep. Zach looked at them, too...his mom’s head resting on his dad’s shoulder, their fingers linked as if drawing and giving strength to one another simultaneously. It warmed his heart, yet made him feel more lonely than he’d felt in a long, long time. Must be nice, he thought, to have someone to lean on at a time like this.
“I wish I could tell you more, Mr. Marshall, I really do.”
Zach blinked away his self-pitying fog.
“The doctor will make his rounds in a couple of hours. By then, he’ll have the test results, and I’m sure he can answer all your questions.”
Zach nodded. He didn’t have to like her “keep the details on the down-low” position to understand it.
“Thanks. And thanks for taking such good care of Libby.”
She was asleep when he returned to her room. Zach resumed his sentry-like position in front of the monitors. Their blips and beeps kept time with his dad’s agitated pacing while his mom stood, silently shaking her head. If he didn’t get them out of here, they’d go crazy, waiting for Libby to wake up.
He peeled a couple twenties from his wallet, turning to his parents. “If I don’t get something to eat soon, I’ll go down like a felled tree.”
His father pocketed the money. “What can we get you while we’re downstairs?”
“Coffee. Sandwich. Chips. Maybe a candy bar. Doesn’t matter what kind.”
Nodding, he grasped his wife’s elbow. “Come with me,” he said, leading her toward the door. “I’m gonna need help carrying stuff.”
Her eyes widened with disbelief. “John, you don’t really expect me to leave her alone!”
“We’ll only be gone a few minutes. And she won’t be alone. Zach will stay with her. If her condition changes, even a little, he’ll text us.”
Her brows drew together as she considered it.
“He’s right, Mom. Libs will be fine.” Right hand forming the Scout’s salute, he added, “I promise to call if her eyelids so much as flutter.”
“Come on, Ellen,” his dad called from the doorway. “Who knows when we’ll next have a chance to grab a bite to eat.”
When she reached him, he leaned down to whisper something into her ear, something that inspired her to send Zach a sad smile.
So. They knew Libby had been holding back, and that he aimed to get more information from her. He couldn’t predict what his sister might say when their folks left the room, but if it was bad news, he had no intention of adding to their worries.
He waited until they were out of sight then sat on the edge of her bed. “Okay, they’re gone,” he said, taking her hand. “Quit faking and let me have it. All of it this time.”
“Faking? Who, me?”
“You’ve been awake for the past twenty minutes.”
“Know-it-all.”
“Can I help it if I’m a tell-it-like-it-is kinda guy?”
“Yeah. When it’s convenient for you.” She smirked then winced. “Ow. Stop making me smile, will ya?”
“Hey. It isn’t my fault that you’re so easily entertained.”
Her face grew serious. “Okay, I’ll talk. But first, you have to promise me something.”
“What?”
“That you won’t put on your private investigator hat and try to find the guy. Because the last thing Mom and Dad need is for you to get into trouble.”
“Whoa. Does that mean you know the guy? Is that why you think he’ll be so easy to find?”
“Of course not. He snuck up on me. Took me completely by surprise. I didn’t see anything but the pavement, whooshing closer and closer to my face.”
It wasn’t likely the cops would share what they knew, but if he could get anything out of them...
“Promise you’ll keep things to yourself, or I’m going back to sleep.”
The heart monitor beeped a little faster. “All right. Okay. Settle down, will you?” He cleared his throat. “I promise not to get in trouble.”
“Oh, you’re a clever one, I’ll give you that.” She gave him a look that said, “I’ve got your number, pal.”
“But not clever enough. I want to hear you say ‘I promise not to tell Mom and Dad the rest of the story.’”
It wasn’t likely he’d share any information with their folks, but just in case, he searched his mind for a way to appease her without making the promise.
“I’ll be honest with you, partly because I need to talk about it as much as you need to hear what happened. But I can’t. I won’t. Not unless I have your word that you won’t try to play the hero again.”
Play the hero again? The comment took him back to when Libby was in college, and a couple of her roommates called him when they got tangled up with some unsavory characters.
“I just couldn’t live with myself if you ended up in jail—or worse—because of me.”
She looked so small and frail, so afraid and nervous, that the only thing keeping him from scooping her up into a huge hug was his fear of hurting her.
“Fine.” He made no effort to sound pleased, because he wasn’t. “I won’t hunt him down like the animal he is and beat the stuffing outta him.”
She relaxed slightly. “One more promise?”
“What now?”
“Stop looking so grim. If they come back and see you looking all serious and angry, they won’t let up until I tell them, too. Or worse, walk around looking all ‘poor Libby’ for the rest of my life.” She gave his hand a weak squeeze. “Thank goodness I don’t have to worry you’ll do that.”
He feigned shock. “Hey. Just ’cause I’m a marine doesn’t mean I’m devoid of feelings.”
“It’s because you’re a big, tough marine that I can trust you to mask your feelings. You saw a lot of