Longwalker's Child. Debra Webb

      Gray had wished for many things since he had learned of his child’s existence, not the least of which was the blackest curse he knew to fall upon the person’s head responsible for trying to keep his child from him.

      Right now, though, he prayed with his entire being that Lauren Whitmore would be okay.

      For Sarah’s sake.

      LAUREN DRIFTED somewhere between asleep and awake well before her eyes would obey the command to open. Wherever she was, darkness surrounded her. No glimmer of light shone through her closed lids. She could hear something…the sound vaguely familiar.

      She tried to reach out, to feel and maybe identify her surroundings despite the darkness, but her arms were so heavy that she couldn’t move. Her head hurt.

      The sound was louder now.

      Water.

      Water was filling the car. Lauren was trapped. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe…

      Fear crowded her throat and robbed her of rational thought. She struggled against the seat belt, but couldn’t quite free herself. The water continued to rise around her.

      Air…she needed air.

      Hold your breath, Lauren, hold your breath. Kevin… She reached for him…

      Lauren sat straight up in bed, gasping for air.

      A dream. It was only a dream, she realized. The accident was a long time ago. It was over now. She was safe.

      Weak as a kitten she cradled her head in her hands and willed the lingering remnants of pain to retreat. She massaged her forehead and then pressed the tips of her fingers against her temples in an effort to keep the raging beast at bay.

      Slowly, very slowly, the perception of time and place returned.

      She was home. And she was okay.

      Just a headache and a nightmare. It had been a long time since she’d had either. Not since Sharon’s death.

      She should get up and check on Sarah….

      The memory of what had taken place just prior to her blackout slammed into Lauren’s head. She threw back the coverlet, dropped her feet to the floor and forced herself to stand. A wave of nausea washed over her when she took a step, but she ignored it and forced another step and then another after that.

      She had to find Sarah.

      Lauren had no idea how long she had been out. Longwalker could have taken Sarah anywhere by now. She swallowed back the metallic taste of fear. Goose bumps skittered across her skin as adrenaline surged through her body, giving her the strength she needed to stagger across the room.

      Once in the dark hall, her hopes plummeted. The house was entirely too quiet and dark.

      No playing-child noises. No television sounds. Nothing.

      Lauren moved down the hall, her heart racing, urging her to hurry. She tried to breathe more slowly, but failed. Her hold on composure thin at best, she kept one shaky hand against the wall for balance.

      God…Sarah has to be here. She just has to be here.

      Lauren blinked back the tears threatening and tried to recall the details of Longwalker’s truck. The police would need that information. She frowned with the effort of concentration. Her head felt like a bomb that had already exploded once and was prepared to do so again.

      Think, Lauren, think. Black, she knew it had been black and new looking. But that’s all she remembered.

      She should never have opened the door. Never have allowed him inside. Why hadn’t she called the sheriff?

      Now he had Sarah.

      Oh, God. How would she ever find her? If Gray Longwalker disappeared again, she’d never find Sarah.

      The night’s full moon had pitched the dimly lit living room into long shadows. The television taunted her with its black screen. Panic rushed anew through Lauren then.

      They were gone.

      She pivoted unsteadily and propelled herself in the direction of the kitchen. She had to call the police now.

      And Don. She should call Don, too.

      Lauren banged her hip against the dining table as she passed, a chair clattered to the floor behind her. She knew she would have a huge bruise by morning, but at the moment she didn’t feel the discomfort. She clenched her teeth and refused to give in to the storm steadily building inside her head.

      Lauren snatched the phone from its cradle and sagged against the wall. She squeezed her eyes shut at the fierce stab of pain that knifed through the right side of her skull.

      The light…the overhead light was so bright. Had she turned it on? She didn’t remember.

      Unable to stand any longer, Lauren slid down the wall to the floor. A sob tore past her lips at the next rush of pain and she clenched her teeth to prevent the scream that wanted to follow. Biological parents stole their children back from adoptive parents all the time. Ultimately the law was on the side of the matching DNA. Getting Sarah back would be next to impossible.

      Lauren had to make that call—now—before she lost herself to the pain. She clutched the receiver and forced her eyes open. The numbers on the keypad blurred. She blinked and tried again to focus. The overhead fluorescent light sent black spots floating before her bleary vision. She couldn’t do it.

      Another sob escaped her as she momentarily yielded to the anguish. “No,” she whispered hoarsely. Lauren sucked in a ragged breath and peered at the numbers through the haze of pain. She had to do it. She had to call.

      Seemingly out of nowhere, strong fingers grasped her arm. Lauren screamed and tried to jerk free of the powerful hand holding her so firmly. Her heart thundered in her chest. The beast inside her skull roared, breaking the fragile barrier between her and the pain.

      “What are you doing?” a deep, raspy voice demanded.

      Ignoring the torturous light, Lauren looked up.

      Him. It was him. Gray Longwalker was still here.

      “Where’s Sarah?” she choked out, her throat almost closed with fear and anguish.

      If he was here, then…Sarah must still be here, too. Lauren clutched the cordless receiver and struggled to get to her feet. Her stomach churned violently, followed so closely by a stab of agony that she almost blacked out. She moaned despite her best efforts not to.

      She sank back to the floor and squeezed her eyes shut. God, it hurt so badly she could hardly draw in a breath. “Sarah,” she murmured.

      “Sarah is asleep in her room,” Longwalker said quietly, as if he knew not to speak too loudly.

      But how could he know?

      Lauren forced her eyes open to see his face, and immediately regretted doing so. The light inflicted more of its pain. Could he be telling her the truth? She had to be certain. She had to see Sarah with her own eyes. She commanded her body to move…but nothing happened.

      “What can I do to help?” He knelt beside her now. The slightest hint of concern in his voice.

      “The light,” Lauren whispered. “Please turn off the light.”

      The light was out before she realized he had even moved.

      “Do you need the medicine on the counter? Your doctor asked if you’d taken it.”

      His words registered in her brain, but didn’t quite make sense. Had he called her doctor? Why would he do that for her? Why hadn’t he taken Sarah and gotten as far away as he could before Lauren regained consciousness? Maybe he still intended to do just that.

      “Sarah…I have to go to her,” Lauren whispered as she waged a war with her unwilling body to stand. She opened her eyes, immensely thankful for the answering darkness.