Amnesia (Book 1 in The Forgotten Series)

Chapter 8

The call from the police should have scared him yet he was numb. Nadia snatched the phone out of his hand after he went unresponsive. She left us. An unnerved chuckle bubbled out of his chest. She left me. He might have seen Dawn as a child but the pain in his chest was the undeniable truth.

"Dean, are you so happy they found her you're crying?" Nadia set his cell phone on top of the middle console.

I'm crying? He swiped at his cheeks, and sure enough, they were wet. It took a few seconds before what she said fully registered. "I'm not crying, i'm... wait." Wiping his eyes free of tears, he then grabbed his phone before it slid off the console. "They found her?"

"Weren't you listening at all? The officer said that she called them." She made a U-turn.

"Why would she call the police?" He watched the passing scenery out the window.

"Couldn't get specifics but seems she was involved in something."

"Dawn, involved in something terrible enough to involve the police?" He couldn't quite believe that.

"She was pretty upset." I hope she's not suggesting what I think she's suggesting.

"She wouldn't do anything rash."

"Not saying she would." They rode the rest of the way in silence.

When they arrived at there destination, he opened the car, slipped out, and shut the door. Glancing around, his heart dropped. Their was so many people on the scene, the flashing lights of a couple cop cars blinding him temporarily. What happened here? He took a few steps before spotting a familiar figure. "Dawn!" A smile broke out on his face.

She had a young boy laying on her lap facedown, and as he came closer, he could hear high pitched wailing. What on earth...? He stopped, watching Dawn rub his upper back and whispering something in his ear. No, not Dawn, Celine. He approached the two and slide down the wall to sit down next to them. It was then he noticed the tears trickling down her face.

"Who's the kid?" He attempted at small talk.

More tears spilled from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. "Ashton." She started playing with his curly brown hair.

"What happened here? It looks like a crime scene." Dawn stifled a sob, her hand now over her mouth.

"His Mother," she spoke between her stifled sobs. "It was awful Dean. The blood," she was a wreck.

What happened to her? He patted her shoulder. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay now." Was it really though? She shook her head slightly.

"I might not have met her but i know she didn't deserve to die like that." She must be talking about the kids Mother. The child, Ashton, wailed once more into her lap, screaming incoherently. She rubbed his back again while whispering in a soothing voice, "Ashton, sweetie, its okay. It's okay." He wasn't sure if she was trying to assure him or herself.

"Ms. Grantsfield?" An officer approached them. "You need to answer some questions."

"Again? Didn't you question me enough?" Her eyes were still burning despite the fatigue sinking into her face.

"It's just part of the protocol ma'am." The officers face remained emotionless.

A sigh left her lips before nodding. "Give me a few minutes, alright?" She glanced down at Ashton before looking back up. The cop bobbed his head, turned on his heel, and walked off. "Dean, could you watch Ashton? It'll only take a few minutes." He nodded.

Ashton jumped up from his spot and clung onto her. "Please don't leave me! I don't want to be alone!"

She wrapped her arms around him. "I'm just going to have a chat with someone, alright? You have fun with Dean and I'll be back soon." She managed to slip out of his hold before patting his head and walking off.

Ashton turned his head towards Dean, his eyes wide and wet. What am I supposed to do now? He was caught in a staring contest. "She's coming back, right? She's not going to leave me like mommy, right?" He looked about ready to burst into tears.

"She'll come back Ashton. She always comes back." He was more trying to assure himself. What am I supposed to be doing? Right about now he wished their was a how to take care of a child after their Mother's murdered for dummies. Though this is not an ordinary day in Scarsdale, was it? "So... what do you like to do?" He tried distracting the kid.

Ashton sniffled. "I like cars." Getting somewhere at least.

"Which would be your favorite?"

"The green cars." Wonder what car he's talking about. "What's your favorite?"

"Honda Accord." Ashton stared blankly at him. "The silver cars." Ashton nodded, the corners of his mouth turning up. "Where do you keep your green cars?" His eyes shined as he pulled something out of his white shorts. When he unclenched his hand, he revealed a plastic green car. "You got a keeper." Dean felt himself smiling.

"Want to play?" Another green car was pulled out of a different pocket.

"Sure, lets play." Ashton dropped one of his cars into Deans hand. "Beep, beep, beep, beep." Ashton backed his car away from the wall. "Vroooom!" He sped away from the wall.

Dean joined in, glancing occasionally in the direction Dawn was last seen. A force knocked the car out his hand. He looked down. A small hand holding a green car was the root of the problem. His gaze trailed up the hands arm and stopped at the owners face. "You don't want to play with me?" The corners of his mouth were now turned downward.

"I do Ashton, I really do!" He exclaimed, attracting the attention of a few officers. "It's just," he came up with an acceptable excuse for a child his age. "It's just I don't have my favorite car with me, and I REALLY like silver cars." He faked a frown, which he found was quite easy to do.

"It's okay." Ashton patted Deans leg. "We can still play with the green cars, right?"

"Yeah, we can still play with the green cars." They played for a while, the officers coming by every once in a while to check in. Like we're the criminals. He watched one of the officers walk off into the large pool of blue. They can't think that, can they? A few men in white returned with what seemed like the same officer. "Coroners," he recognized the white uniform from old television shows.

The men silently rushed past with the supplies in hand. A shudder ran down his spine as he went back to the car. What did they see? He glanced up Ashton, who was busy with his toy. He doesn't seem traumatized. The footsteps of many made him turn his head. The men were now carrying something heavy I'm the body bag, whatever inside too large to fit the small bag. Dangling out of the bag was brunette hair, soaked to the ends in red.

A chocking cry pierced the air and he didn't blame the kid. He wanted to cry too and he hadn't even known the woman. Suddenly his lap was heavy and his hand unconsciously moved to something warm. "It's okay," he could only whisper in a soothing voice. "Everything's going to be alright now." He rubbed the warmth.

He cried himself to sleep. Dean could tell by his rhythmic breathing that replaced his frequent whimpering. He looked up when Dawn approached them, an unreadable expression on her face. Her eyes went to the Ashton, to Dean, and then back to Ashton. "Tired himself out?" She still was able to smile after all that had happened.

Dean nodded, patting his head gently. "Out like a light."

She sat down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "The officers called his Father to come pick him up."

"So we can leave?" He didn't dare move his head.

"They asked if I can stay until his Father comes." She chuckled softly. "Seems he's stuck to me."

"I guess that's okay." The officers were glancing over at the! again. What's their problem? "How did the questioning go?" No response. "Dawn?" He risked a glance. Her eyes were closed, her head lolling. Sighing, a smile then sneaked up onto his face. "Goodnight Dawn."