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Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 2) by Abigail Davies, Danielle Dickson (17)

I’ve just found out the woman I love isn’t the person I thought she was.

His words spin around and around in my head like a merry-go-round. A lump the size of a baseball is stuck in my throat, and it doesn’t matter how many times I try to swallow it away, it won’t budge.

My hands grip the steering wheel tighter as I concentrate on the road ahead, blinking back the tears that are rolling down my face.

Why? That’s all I can think. Why now? The exact time I decide to tell them everything and she not only beats me to it, but embellishes and twists the truth. That article was completely doctored.

Pulling into my apartment building parking lot, I park at an angle, not caring about how I’m taking up two spaces as I jump out and run up to my apartment. All I want is to curl up in my bed, pull the covers over my head and pretend the whole world isn’t out there.

My hands shake as I climb the stairs and it takes three times to get the key into the lock to open up my door. As soon as I’m inside, I slam the door closed and lean against it. I place my hand on my chest, hearing the beat of my broken heart.

I need them out of my house and away from my kids!

I squeeze my eyes shut at the sound of Tris’s voice in my head. Why couldn’t he just hear me out and let me explain? Something in my mind shut down at his words, causing me to not be able to get the words out of my mouth to tell Nate everything.

I feel like all I do is make the wrong turn. Why can’t they have a navigation system for life? It would make things so much easier.

A short burst of laughter escapes me at that, the tears still flowing down my face like the waterfall Nate took me to.

I want to go back; back to the time where all that mattered was him and me and what surprise he wouldn’t tell me about. I hated them at the time, but right now, I’d do anything for a surprise to be the only thing I have to worry about.

Pushing off the door, I pull my cell out, checking the time. I have two hours until my dad will get here. I have to focus on that. Once he’s here, he’ll help me tell Nate and Tris everything.

Swiping my hands down my face, I rinse a washcloth in my bathroom and wipe my face and sore eyes, tilting my head to look in the small mirror above the sink.

My face is ghostly pale, my eyes looking too big for my head, my cheekbones more prominent. As I stare at myself, I realize this isn’t the same person I looked at only a few months ago.

I don’t know how long I stand there watching myself and searching in my eyes for something, but when my back starts to ache, I stand up fully.

Throwing the washcloth into the laundry bin, I walk back into the living room, my gaze landing on the rain as it bats against the window. The gray clouds roll in, getting darker and darker.

I wander closer to the window and open it up, stepping outside. The cold rain hits my face and I close my eyes, tilting my head back and taking a deep breath. The damp air expands my lungs and I relish in the feel of goose bumps spreading over my skin.

“You have to pay.”

I jump at the voice, my eyes springing open as I spin around.

“Phoebe?” My heart rate picks up as I see her standing on the other side of the window—inside my apartment.

“I’m going to do to you what you did to me.” She steps out onto the balcony and I will my feet not to move. “I’ll make sure you have no reason to live. I’ll send you to the pits of hell and relish in every last second you scream out for help but don’t get an answer.”

Her eyes flash with danger and I step back, swallowing tightly. “I know you’re upset, Phoebe, but it wasn’t my fault,” I whisper, my voice soft.

Her fists clench at her sides and her nostrils flare. “Yes, it was! You should’ve been watching her!”

Her hair hangs limply, the rain having soaked it much the same as mine. Water gathers on her lashes and she swipes a fist over her eyes to get rid of them.

“There was nothing I could have done, she died of SIDs.” I try my hardest to placate her but the crazy look in her eyes intensifies as she steps toward me.

“I lost everything because of you!” She takes another step forward and when I take a step back, I collide with the railing. “You killed my baby! My sweet, sweet baby girl.” Her eyes glaze over. “She’d make a gurgling noise every time I’d walk into her room, her little legs kicking out in excitement.” Her focus returns and her lips lift into a sneer. “I still hear her.” She taps her temple. “In here, she’s telling me you did this, you took her away from her mama.”

“No.” I shake my head, bringing my hand up between us. “It wasn’t me,” I plead, but even to my own ears I sound weak. My stomach dips and my hands shake profusely as she takes one last step toward me, wrapping her hands around my arms.

“Ryan left me because of you.” She pushes her face in mine, sneering, “I lost it all because of you.”

“No, no—” I gasp as she pushes against me, my hands flying out to grab the railing.

“I’ll make sure you can’t kill any more babies; you’re dangerous and shouldn’t breathe the same air as anyone else on this earth.”

“Phoebe!” I cry out, my hands slipping as I lose traction. “It wasn’t my fault!” I shout again, the back of my neck starting to ache at the position she has me in.

“Yes, it was!” she screams in my face, spittle hitting my cheek. “Just shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

I do as she says, whimpering as she leans forward more, balancing our weight precariously on the railing.

The rain becomes heavier, a cold wind picking up and thrashing our hair around our faces, but she still doesn’t take her gaze from mine. The storm inside them starts to calm, and I relax for a second, feeling her grip loosen as she closes her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this, Phoebe. I can help you get better.”

Her eyes spring back open, the brown dead and her pupils enlarged. “I have to do my duty.” She nods at herself. “I have to take you away: make you pay for what you’ve done.” She murmurs something else but I don’t hear it against the sound of the wind and rain.

She pushes me, this time with more force and the top of my body tilts at a forty-five-degree angle over the top of the railing. I reach out, managing to grip the thin raincoat she’s wearing.

“Please,” I plead. “Don’t do this.”

She moves her face closer, whispering, “Bye, Beth.”

My eyes widen as she pushes with more force again and I grip onto her tighter. She’s really going to do this: she’s going to kill me. That last thought has my fight or flight instincts kicking in and I thrash against her.

“No!” I shout. “Help! Someone help me!”

Her evil laugh cackles around us. “No one wants to help you, Beth. You have no one. I made sure of that.”

She slams her weight forward, and my heart hammers in my chest. Turning my head slightly, I see the three-story drop to the wet asphalt below.

Meeting her eyes, I grip her arms tighter, trying to pull myself back up, but when she realizes what I’m doing, she takes two steps back, letting go of my arms. Before I can pull myself up to my full height, she runs at me, pushing her arms out and slamming her fists into my chest.

My arms reach out for something but all I manage to come into contact with is her arm. She shouts something at me, but I don’t take any of it in because I’m in the air, staring at the railing we were standing on a second ago.

Everything feels like it happens in slow motion. The air hits me, causing my hair to fly around my face and I’m flying: flying through the rain and wind.

No, I’m not flying: I’m falling.

The gray storm clouds get farther away as I make my descent and I wonder: Is this what it feels like to be free?

I’m falling through time, space, and everything in between. I’m suspended; nature keeping me in this place that is neither here nor there.

Nobody can save you but yourself: that’s what I’ve always believed. It doesn’t matter what situation you’re in, you have to be strong because there’s only one person who has to live with you: the person who stares back at you in the mirror each and every day.

But what happens when you can’t save yourself?

When that choice is taken away from you, all you can do is close your eyes and let fate run its course.

Fate: the one thing you can’t see nor hear but is there watching and waiting for its time to step in, to veer your plans off the course you thought you were on.

Peace washes over me and freedom flows through my veins as my mind accepts this is how everything was meant to be.

But I have one last thought before fate takes its course: I should have told him one last time that I loved him. That one word doesn’t do what we had justice. There are a million words that could describe what he meant to me, but there’s only one that will describe what I’ll be to him now: gone.

I still can’t believe she lives here, but that doesn’t matter now because it’ll change soon. Whether she wants me here or not, I want to help. I need to help.

I flick on my windshield wipers, the bright sky has faded making way for gray clouds to roll over, drizzling rain down onto everything in its wake, which doesn't help my mood.

Pulling into the lot of her apartment building, I park and turn the engine off while staring up at the sky. I haven’t got a jacket with me but my gaze falls on the file in the passenger seat I took from Tris’s.

I climb out of the car with the file firmly placed over my head, taking the brunt of the rain for me. I don’t even know why I brought it with me anyway, the information in it is seared into my memory.

I hear shouting in the distance and keep my eyes trained ahead, determined to get her away from this area, and fast. Walking over to the front doors and buzzing up to her apartment, I keep my finger pressed against the buzzer because I know she can’t ignore the noise forever. I know she’s actually here this time because her SUV is in the lot.

“Come on,” I grit out between clenched teeth. I whip my head around at a scared shriek. I know that voice.

Everything fades away as I sprint in the direction it came from. I run around the back of the apartment building and skid to a halt when I see what’s in front of me. I wish I could look away and be transported back in time to when I was standing on Tris’s driveway with Amelia within reach.

They say whenever there’s an emergency that most people’s instincts tell them to run away, they dodge whatever the outcome will be to save themselves. But when my heart leaps into my throat at the same time I hear the papers from the file spill out of my hand onto the wet, dirty asphalt, self-preservation is the last thing on my mind.

The unhinged woman—Phoebe—that came to “warn” us steps back from Amelia with a grin on her face. They’re standing on the fire escape balcony outside what I suspect is Amelia’s apartment and with total focus, she leans forward, pushing with a grunt.

“No!” I shout, my hands reaching out as if I can stop them as they go tumbling over the railing, my insides balling into a knot as they fall in slow motion.

The sickening thud of bodies has me running as fast as I can, the sound of groaning invading my senses as the rain soaks through my white dress shirt, wetting my skin.

Phoebe landed on Amelia but she rolls off her as I reach them, throwing myself on the ground beside them.

“No, no, no, no!” My gaze flits all over Amelia’s body that’s lying at an awkward angle, her left leg bent in a way it shouldn’t be. “What have you done?”

“Nothing she didn’t deserve,” Phoebe groans, getting to her knees and falling back on the ground, wincing.

I pull out my cell and dial 911, afraid that if I touch her, she’ll break.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

In my frantic haze, I glance over at Phoebe, stuttering out my words. “I need an ambulance right away, it’s my girlfriend, she…” I tentatively place my fingers against Amelia’s neck and I feel like my whole world is collapsing before my very eyes. “Oh, God!”

“Sir, I need you to calm down and tell me what’s happening so I can help.”

“I can’t feel a pulse!” I grab her wrist and again, I feel no pulse. “I need an ambulance now!”

“Okay, can you tell me where you are?”

I look around frantically. “7th Ave, behind apartment block H. Please help me.”

“I have an ambulance on the way, but I’m going to stay on the line with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

A tear leaks down my cheek, mixing in with the rain as I brush my thumb across her face, feeling helpless. “She pushed her; she pushed her over the fire escape railing.”

I hear sirens in the distance and I look over at Phoebe—or where she was before I turned away from her. She must’ve moved in the time I’ve been on the phone.

“Okay, I need you not to touch her. I know it’s hard but please don’t move her in any way if she’s had a fall. I hear the sirens in the background, hold on until they get there.”

I start to tell her there’s nothing else I can do but Amelia’s lifeless face distracts me, the words getting caught in my throat. She deserves better than a dirty alleyway, better than this end.

I hear nearing voices and croak out, “Help! Over here!” Shouting it louder a second time.

“Sir? Are the paramedics there?” the operator asks. Police and paramedics race toward us and I nod even though she can’t see me.

“Sir?”

This time I voice it out loud. “They’re here.”

I stumble backward, my hand landing in a puddle as I helplessly watch them try to find a pulse.

The medical jargon they’re throwing around confuses me and I get the strength to stand up, stepping forward. “What’s happening? Is she gone? Please don’t tell me she’s gone.”

One of the police officers steps in front of me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Sir, I need you to let these men do their job.”

My vision goes blurry from the tears that fall. This can’t be it for her—for us.

I thread my hands in my hair as they strap her to a stretcher, the equipment they’re using blocking my view. “I’ve found a pulse. It’s weak, but it’s there.”

“Let’s move!” the other one replies as he starts to push the stretcher away.

“Are you not going with her?” one of the officers asks me in my daze. “We’ll follow behind and catch you at the hospital.”

I leap into action, running beside her and holding her hand until we reach the ambulance where it slips out of mine as they lift the stretcher up.

I climb in after them and they shut the doors, banging on the front to let the driver know they’re ready to leave. The ambulance starts up and pulls out of the lot, sirens blaring. It all adds to the seriousness of the situation, but a niggle of hope is blooming somewhere because they’ve found a pulse.

I can’t stop staring at her but when one of them starts to put rubber gloves on, I shout, “No! She’s allergic to latex!”

When she told me that little bit of information, I never thought I’d need to tell anyone else. I wish I didn’t have to. This shouldn’t have happened, not to her. Not to the one person who means more to me than I ever thought humanly possible.

He looks down at the gloves in his hands and back at me. “It’s okay, they’re latex free.”

I don’t reply as he puts them on and prods her with needles before placing a mask over her face. She looks completely lifeless and my mind drifts back to before this whole ordeal. How long has this been going on for?

Now I know what she was keeping from me—from us all—I wish I would’ve pushed more. I wish I’d have said that I wasn’t letting her move out on her own and insisted she move in with me, or at least let me help her move.

The packages and all her strange behavior makes sense now. It had to have been Phoebe sending them all along.

“Phoebe!” I even scare myself with my exclamation and one of the paramedics turns to me.

“Sorry, what was that?”

I shake my head. “The woman that pushed her got away. She fell with her though so I think she may be hurt. She couldn’t have gotten that far.”

“When we get to the hospital you can talk to the police. Make sure you tell them everything you know.”

“That’s the thing: I don’t know much. I just know what I saw.” I wince as the sound of their bodies hitting the ground plays through my mind on a loop.

“That’ll be enough for now,” he says before turning back to Amelia and checking her pulse.

Five minutes later we’re pulling up outside the hospital, and from the minute the back doors of the ambulance were thrown open, it’s all a haze.

I remember telling the police what I know and giving them a description of the woman that has ruined everything. I remember when Tris and Harm turned up, yet I don’t remember calling them. And I remember every second of Amelia’s fall, not able to rid it out of my mind as I pace in the emergency waiting room, wishing I didn’t feel as helpless as I do right now.