SAVING GRACES

“Where is he?” the man shouted angrily.



“He’s…he’s in his room…It’s the middle of the night…He’s asleep…He’s a boy…He needs his sleep…” The woman desperately tried to calm the man.



“Stupid little bastard!” The angry roar was closer now, and the boy huddled in the closet.



“Open up!” There was a terrible pounding on the bedroom door. “Open up, or I’ll break down the door!”



The boy scurried to the back of the closet. He pulled several boxes in front of him, and, reaching up, yanked several coats and sweaters down to cover his body.



A horrible crash sounded beyond the closet door. “Bastard!” the man shouted. “Where are you?”



“No…no…Don’t call him that,” the woman cried. “He’s not…”



A thump and muffled cries followed. The boy nearly sprang from his hiding place, but before he moved, a furious kick crashed the closet door open, the wood and hinges splintering with the force. The boy shrank back from the fury.



“I know you’re in here!” the man yelled. He clawed at the boxes and threw them out of the way. “I’ll find you!” He grabbed the piles of clothing and uncovered the terrified boy. A young Bobby Goren stared up at the savage face of Mark Ford Brady. Over the man’s shoulder, Bobby saw his mother lying seemingly unconscious on the bed. A triumphant John Bertelli stood over Brady’s shoulder and screamed, “There he is! Evil bastard! There he is!”



“No! No!” the child screamed as the two men reached for him. “No!”



“No! No!” Bobby bolted up. For several seconds, he sat in bed and gasped for breath. He struggled against the terrible dizziness and sick feeling that swept over him. Sweat poured from his body, and his sides hurt from his desperate breathing.



“Bobby…” Olivia appeared at the foot of his bed. “What’s wrong?”



He struggled to rid his mind of the dream. “No…I can’t let her see me like this…Not weak…Not afraid…” he thought.



“Bobby.” She sat on the bed’s edge and reached to turn on the lamp.



“No!” He grabbed her hand and pulled it away from the switch.



“You’re soaking wet,” Olivia said, her voice dripping with concern. “You’re going to get chilled…”



Bobby fought not to shiver.



“Hey,” Olivia said gently. “I have bad dreams too.” She again reached for the lamp.



“Oh, hell,” Bobby thought. “I can’t…”



She flicked on the lamp. She expected him to look awful, but Bobby’s appearance still shocked her. Sweat soaked his body; his T-shirt looked as if it had just been dipped in a pail of water. His hair was matted to his head, and his eyes were wide and lost.



“Oh, God, Bobby.” She couldn’t hide her shock. “It…it must have been an awful one.”



“I…I… please, Olivia…I…I…please…please don’t make me…It’s not you…I swear…but…please…don’t make me tell…Please…” He clutched at the damp sheets.



“Of course…You don’t have to tell me…I…I don’t want to relive the bad ones either. Especially right after I’ve had one.” Her calm voice surprised her.



Bobby’s breaths were more relaxed. “I…I did try to warn you,” he said weakly.



Olivia smiled at him. “Yea…I can’t say that I wasn’t worried about what could happen.” She tenderly brushed the damp curls off his forehead. “Better?”



“Getting there.”



“C’mon…let’s get you cleaned up before you get a chill…”



While he showered, she changed the bed. By the time he emerged from the bathroom, fresh sheets and a large glass of iced water waited for him.



“Everything ok?” she asked.



Bobby drained the water gratefully; the cool water soothed his throat. “Thank you,” he said softly.



“Not a problem,” Olivia said. “Think you’ll be able to get back to sleep?”



He nodded. “I think so. I usually have only one bad dream a night.” He hesitated as he turned towards his bed. “Olivia, I’m glad you’re here.”



Another wave of triumph rose in Olivia. She walked to Bobby and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m glad to be here,” she said, her voice catching slightly in her throat. “I’m glad to help you.”



He rested his chin on her head. He smelled of soap and shampoo and his T-shirt was soft against her cheek. Still holding her, he sat carefully on the bed. She sat next to him, her hand making soft circles on his back. He turned his head and brushed his lips across her eyes.



“I…I care about you, Olivia…I care so much…” His voice gently rumbled in her ears. “But…but…I need to get through tomorrow…I…I know it shouldn’t make a difference…but it does. For some reason, it’s terribly important.” He swallowed. “I do want to be with you…if…you want me…”



“Of course I want you,” Olivia murmured into his chest. “I want you very much.”



“Thank you.” He held her tighter. “Thank you…It’s just…There’s so much going on in my head…If I can get through tomorrow…It’ll be better…At least, I hope it will.”



“You should get more sleep,” Olivia said. “Do you want me to go?”



Much to her and his surprise, he didn’t hesitate with his answer. “I want you to stay.”



She started to pull away, but he held her.



“Could you…please…stay here?” he whispered.



She looked at him in wonder.



“I promise…nothing will happen…”



“I might want something to happen,” she said shyly.



He brushed his lips across her bangs, and she felt his gentle smile. “I’m afraid,” he said wryly. “That I can’t make any promises along those lines right now…But when this case is over…If you’re sure…”



Olivia relaxed in his arms. It was a new—and both disconcerting and comforting—experience to be with a man who was so shy and gentle. “I’m sure,” she whispered, and gently pushed him back on the bed. Bobby trembled. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. She rested her hand tenderly on his chest. “I won’t force or hurt you.”



Bobby carefully wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. “Like I said…I’m glad you’re here.”



“I hope to be here a lot in the future.” She laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him.



“Maybe you won’t,” Bobby thought as he drifted towards sleep. “Not if you know who I am…If I learn what I really am tomorrow.”



END CHAPTER 18