Now
I blink open my eyes. Thankfully, someone has killed the harsh fluorescent lighting in the hospital room.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
The steady sound of my heart monitor assures me that I’m alive. I almost can’t believe I made it. My vision had almost completely faded by the time I pulled into the emergency bay. I don’t remember getting out of the car.
When Dex came to get me, Law had driven him out there. Dex drove Martinez’s car to the hospital but made me drive the last quarter mile alone. The story was that I escaped and don’t know who killed Martinez.
I try to take a deep breath, but there’s something wrapped tightly around my body that keeps me from doing it. My eyes search the room. That’s when I see him, feet kicked out, reclining in a chair in the most uncomfortable position, sleeping.
But like he can feel my eyes on him, his open. I’m trapped in his intense gaze. I’m not sure where we stand. He left me, but then he killed for me. I don’t know what it all means. His look gives nothing away. It never has.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
My shoulder pitches up slightly. It’s the most movement I can manage. “The same as always.”
“There are detectives outside that would like to talk to you. Bridget is with them. Everyone else is out there, too.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Three days,” he says. “Two surgeries. You had a concussion, three broken ribs—one of which pierced your lung—ruptured spleen, and a lacerated liver.”
“That’s it?” I grin, hoping to wash away some of the worry. “I got no spleen now? Is that devastating?”
He huffs a laugh and leans forward, his expression grim. “It’s still there, but they had to repair a small tear. I thought I was going to lose you.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod.
“What were you thinking?”
My eyes dart to his in question.
“You were supposed to stay put.”
“You left me,” I whined. “I needed you to know that I choose you. I’ll always choose you. And leaving was stupid. He could’ve gone after you. I was relieved when he came for me. I knew you were safe.”
His brows draw together as his head tilts like I just spoke another language. “I didn’t leave you. I just needed to clear my head.”
“So you could think about leaving me?”
“I said I was trying to be a better man, but I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough to give you up for him.”
He crosses the room in a few short strides. His fingers trace the lines of my face, stopping as his thumb runs over my lower lip. If I weren’t lying down, my legs would give out. I’ve become a sucker for that move.
“Kiss me,” I whisper.
He does as commanded, his lips an echoing whisper as they brush over mine. He pulls away too soon, and I groan from frustration. I can’t follow; there are too many tubes and wires sticking out of me right now. His dimple appears with the answering smirk. I close my eyes to block out the vision. He’s almost too much.
That’s when I see it. The hollow eyes and twisted mouth. Martinez.
I lock on to those turquoise eyes. “How did you find me?”
“With this.” He pulls the dragon necklace from his pocket. “I had it special made for you with a GPS chip implanted.”
I reach out and run my fingertips over it. I think I love it more now that I know it saved my life. But speaking of saving lives—my focus jumps to Dex’s face. “You killed for me?”
He gives a slow nod, his lips flattening into a straight line. “I didn’t want to go in and risk you getting hurt or possibly killed. It could easily have turned into a hostage situation.” His jaw ticks like he’s grinding his teeth. “And he took you from me. I was two hundred and fifty yards away. I didn’t know what he was saying, I just didn’t want him to hurt you.” His eyes search mine.
I decide to answer the question he never asked. “It doesn’t make me love you less.” I pause before continuing. “I don’t know what it says about me, but I think it makes me love you more. Which doesn’t necessarily surprise me.” I snort. “There’s a darkness inside me that I think you understand. It draws me to you.”
He starts to speak, but the door opens. A nurse walks in, carrying a clipboard. She looks up.
“Oh, you’re awake.” She smiles, walking over to fiddle with the machines out of my range of view. “You’ve caused quite the stir around here. Kidnapped rock star rescues herself, barely survives. It’s big news. How are you feeling?”
I answer her the same as I told Dex. Her brows pinch for a second before a look crosses her face like she made a connection. I’m glad because I really don’t want to explain myself. She runs the usual checks and informs us that the doctor will be by soon.
As soon as she’s gone, Bridget strides in, looking less than her usual perfection. She pulls a chair from the corner. It grates loudly across the floor before she stops next to the bed.
“We’ve got”—she looks at her cell phone—“maybe five minutes before the cops get here to start asking questions. Nurse Sunshine announced that you were awake to the entire waiting room. Start from the beginning and tell me what happened. I want to make sure your statement doesn’t incriminate you.”
I tell her everything, from the scene with Law at Holden’s house to my arrival at the hospital, with some alterations to the story.
“He said he was stalking me because his sister was driving the car that killed my mom. He was in the car, too, the only survivor. He felt he needed to watch over me. But he killed Jared and decided to leave me alone—”
“He killed Jared?” she asked.
“Yep.” I nod to emphasize my position. Shit. If they don’t buy it, the police won’t. And right now, they both look skeptical.
“Why?”
“He was watching us when we got in that fight. He went to confront Jared. He said it was self-defense. That he didn't mean to do it. And honestly, I don’t really care why. The man destroyed my life.”
The doubt erases from her features, and I know that did it. I convinced them.
I’m a liar. A pretty good one, by the looks of it. I’d mulled over this on the ten-minute drive to the nearest hospital after Dex rescued me. Asher would never make it through a trial without it destroying every part of his life. Even if he was found innocent. And for what?
Pursuits of the truth are only noble in fiction, in ideal worlds where consequences can be ignored. But sometimes the truth is better left unspoken. Sometimes it’s better to let go of the past.
Martinez said that Jared’s death was an accident. That it was self-defense. And I believe him. He had no reason to lie, so I’m letting it go. That mystery will die with the only man who knew the truth. I still love my friend and have no doubt that whatever happened that night, Asher was trying to do the right thing.
The police detectives come as Bridget predicted. They listen to my story, make notes, then leave. They are followed by a string of other family members and friends, each wanting to hear my story. I tell it so much I start to forget the lies. I believe it as truth, and it becomes one.
We can all move on now. It’s the start of a new day, and now I know what hope really looks like. It has broad shoulders that taper down to a trim waist accented by a dragon tattoo. It carries a gun with deadly aim. It loves me. And I love him back.
Then
I was sitting on my bed as the door to my room opened. Evan stood in the doorway, his eyes trained on me. He got special leave to come home for the funeral and to stay for a couple of weeks after. I didn’t know what to expect from him, so I stayed seated and turned back to staring at the wall. He loved Jared almost as much as me, they were brothers-in-arms. I wouldn’t blame him for hating me. I hated me.
Once the first tear slipped past my lashes, the rest followed in an endless rush. I wished I could stop crying. I moved my focus down to my feet. The black stiletto heels, the black dress. It was supposed to symbolize mourning, right? But to me it felt like a scarlet letter, announcing the dark soul that lay beneath. Before I knew what was happening, I was swept into muscular arms. Evan held me in a tight embrace.
“Don’t shut down on me, Mads. I feel it, too. It fucking sucks, but I need you to stay here. The girls need you.”
I glanced away. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it. I can’t go out there.”
“You put one foot in front of the other. Ignore the idiots outside and take comfort in the fact that there are people here that love you and want to help.”
“I don’t deserve their help or their love, Ev. This wouldn’t’ve happened if I gave him a chance to get help. If—”
“You can’t keep doing this to yourself. What-ifs don’t matter—it happened. Now you’ve gotta pick yourself up and carry on. You have those girls that need you now more than ever.” He sighed. “You don’t owe anyone out there anything, but you gotta do this for yourself. Show them that you’re not scared, you’re not guilty.”
“You’re not hearing me, Evan. I killed him. I’m guilty. The guilt is crushing me. I feel like I can’t breathe. How can you even stand to look at me?”
“You’ve gotta cut that shit out. You didn’t kill him. You had a fight. You had every damn right to kick him out after what he did. After that was out of your control.”
I was so tired of fighting everyone on this. They were all convinced that he had been murdered by some mysterious other person. I knew damn well that when he left, he wasn’t in his right mind, and I also knew what he had seen. I felt sick just thinking about it. And that was a secret I’d take to my grave.
I stood and walked out the door to the room. I was on autopilot, not really seeing or hearing things around me. The funeral was nice, but I just stared straight ahead, only blinking before my eyes dried out. When it was over, and people gave up trying to talk to me, I went back to bed. I didn’t leave it either.
Without food or water, I didn’t need to go to the bathroom that often. I just stared at the wall, my mind a beautiful blank. Everyone visited, everyone tried to help, tried to make me move. Then they gave up. I closed my eyes and went to sleep. In dreams, I had crystal-clear beaches and bright sun. Clear blue eyes filled with love, and vows that bound us forever, until the ocean turned to blood and the sky grew black.
Days passed like endless empty rotations of the sun and moon’s dance. Months went by. I remained a living ghost, only doing the bare minimum to survive.
One night, I woke up. It was dark outside. Something was wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something not right. I pulled back the covers, and then I felt it. The cool air hit the wetness on the sheets, between my legs. I turned on the bedside lamp and stared at it.
Nic came in the room. His hands were on my shoulder, shaking me. When his hand cracked across my face, I blinked up at him.
“Did you just slap me?” I asked.
His finger dug into my shoulders. “You wouldn’t stop screaming.”
My eyes darted to his. I was screaming? His olive-green eyes looked sad, defeated. He left the room and then came back and picked me up. He carried me to his car. Holly stood by it with tears in her eyes, holding her hand over her slightly protruding belly. I watched her as we drove away, and she walked back inside my house.
Hours later, I found myself sitting in a bright room. An older Asian lady with a stethoscope and a name tag that read Dr. Chen said the words that would haunt me forever.
“You were pregnant.”
Were. Were. Were. Were. Were.
My mind was stuck like a record skipping. A seemingly innocuous word just became a death sentence, and what was left of my rotting soul shriveled even more. Nic cried while I stared at the wall. The doctor patted his arm and told him about fertility treatments. I laughed. It sounded hollow and sadistic. They stopped talking, and the doctor left the room.
Without another word, or at least one that I actually heard, Nic helped me into a wheelchair and got me to the car. Then I was back in bed, where I listened to the deafening roar of silence. It was taunting me for being so fucked up that I could lose a child and not even feel it. Where was the pain? I felt so cold and numb. I needed to feel it. I needed to feel the consequences of my actions. I needed to be punished for being so selfish.
I got up. I went into my closet, pulling down boxes from the top shelf until I found what I was looking for. I sat on the edge of the tub and flicked open the pocketknife. I stared at the shiny blade in morbid fascination. Then I put the blade to my inner thigh and slid it across the surface. I watched the red liquid bubble up from the line without so much as a blink. I did it again and again, screaming in frustration when the only reward was the barrage of memories from the metallic smell of blood.
Slipping off the tub, I bounced off the floor when I heard my name. I looked up into horrified hazel eyes.
“Maddie, put the knife down,” Evan coaxed in a gentle voice. “What’re you doing?”
“I didn’t feel it, Ev. How can you lose a child and not even feel it? I need to feel it. I need to feel something. I can’t deal with this numb shit anymore. I want the pain. I deserve it.”
He took two strides and pulled the knife from my hand. He threw it behind him. It clattered as it skidded across the floor. His hand pulled at the flesh on my inner thighs.
“They’re not deep,” he said over his shoulder. “Can you clean her up?”
My eyes tracked behind him to the door to see Nic and Holly, both with equal looks of horror. Holly nodded. I laughed.
“Wow… you guys looked so stunned. It’s almost like you didn’t know I was a fucked-up freak. I mean, come on. I lost a baby, and I didn’t even know who the father was. I’d never know. How’s that for karma?”
They didn’t seem shocked by that little revelation, which made me laugh harder. But I had a feeling they weren’t really listening to what I was saying. They looked scared, either of me or for me, I didn’t know.
“Neddie, you need to shut up now,” Nic said firmly. “I don’t know what’s more disturbing—the blood or her laughing.”
I laughed harder. I laughed until I couldn’t breathe. I laughed until tears filled my eyes and those deep belly rumbles turned to soul-wrenching sobs. I’d say that I was losing it, but I’m not sure I ever had it. I just put on a good mask. I walked the earth seemingly normal, but so shattered inside it was like a kaleidoscope in there.