“The affair you originally suspected, she’s having one. Name is Declan McKinnon.”
“Fuck,” he hisses. “What is she up to?”
“Here’s the file. Everything’s in it.” There’s a long pause before the guy speaks again, saying, “I’ll get security set up. Everything should be in place tomorrow or the next day.”
The door clicks and I know I’m alone with Bennett, and that freaks me out, because I no longer have control. He’s not a stupid man. If he hasn’t already figured it out, it won’t be long before he does.
Fuck! Why can’t I wake up?
“Elizabeth,” he whispers, and I can tell it just clicked by his acknowledging tone. “I always wondered what happened to you.”
Bullshit.
“Rick,” he says, speaking our attorney’s name. “Things could be better. Look, I have something that can’t wait. When can you see me?”
What’s he going to do? Shit. As much as I hate Pike right now, I need him.
“No, that works. I’ll leave right now.”
I listen to the movements around the room when a female voice says, “I need to change a couple of her bandages.”
“That’s fine. I was just leaving,” Bennett responds. “Here’s my card. I want you to call me the second she wakes up, and I mean the second.”
He leaves, and I continue to lie here in my comatose state, unable to react to anything. I don’t know what I’m doing or what’s going to happen to me. I need to run, to go find Pike. I hate that I still need him, but things are headed south, and fast.
I KNOW HE’S here. I can smell lotus blooms, and with that alone, the pinching angst that’s been festering relents and I feel safe. His hand is on my belly, another combing through my hair, and I will myself to open my eyes. To move, to do anything to let him know I can feel him. My body hurts so badly as my muscles start to flex and shift.
That’s it. Come on; wake up. Wake up.
“Nina?” he says, his voice is sad, but I need to hear it. I need that voice to pull me out of this darkness.
“Can you hear me?” he asks, grabbing my hand, and finally, I can feel my fingers move. “Baby, please wake up. Just open your eyes. Show me you’re still with me.”
I cling to his words, and light finally filters in. My eyes blink, responding to my body’s request.
“Thank God,” he sighs in relief as my blurred vision begins to clear. He leans over me, kissing my forehead, and I reach up, grabbing for any part of him.
“I’m here, darling,” he assure as I clench on to his shirt, and his hand covers mine. “I’m here,” he continues to soothe, and when I try to speak, I gag. “Shh, relax. You have a breathing tube down your throat. Just relax, okay?”
I nod, taking in a few deep breaths, allowing his soft, whispered accent to calm me, and notice the single, white lotus flower that’s lying on the bed beside me.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. When I didn’t hear from you, I called all over until I found you here.”
I reach up and touch the tube coming out of my mouth and shake my head, needing to tell him that when I leave here, I’m going home with him. I need him to know it’s over with Bennett and that it’s him I want, but he takes my hand away, reading me well, saying, “It’s fine. You don’t need to say anything.” His eyes are hard and serious when he says, “You’ll never go back to that bastard again. You’re coming home with me. I should have never let you leave my place the other night.”
I nod, agreeing with everything he’s saying.
“He’s never going to touch you again.”
I place my hand over the one he still has on my belly and the emptiness is too much as I begin to cry. He keeps his eyes on my stomach, fisting my hospital gown in his hand. His face pinches, as if he’s trying to brace himself for the worst when he finally asks, his voice coming out hoarse, “Please tell me our baby is okay.”
And when he finally brings his eyes to mine, I can already feel the salts eating away at my flesh as they spill out. He drops his head and releases a God-awful sob, and I do what I can to give him comfort as I run my fingers deep into his hair, gripping it tightly in my hand as he rests his head on my stomach. Seeing him in this much pain, this strong man who is always in so much control, is unbearable.
His shoulders hunch over and heave as he silently breaks. I want to be swallowed up by anything, just to be taken far away from this life, but I want to take Declan with me. I’ll always want him with me, and when he lifts his head, I notice the blackness of his eyes. His jaw grinds and I watch the muscles along his arms constricting. I begin to shake my head as I witness his transformation—the one I had been leading him to make. My heart slams against my broken ribs, and when I grab ahold of his wrists, he snaps, “I’m going to kill that motherfucker.”
No, no, no!
I shake my head, and he moves quickly to kiss the corner of my mouth, looking me in the eyes, forcing his words deep inside of me, saying, “That was our baby. My baby.”
Frantically, I cling my arms around him, needing him to stay with me, but he pulls back, telling me, “I’m not losing you. I love you too much, but that fucker is going to pay.”
I start clawing at the tube in my mouth, yanking it out of my throat, but begin gagging and choking as I watch him walk out of the room.
Declan, NO! You’re not a monster; don’t do this! Come back!
I thrash my body up, and I shriek through my gagging when the pain from my broken ribs shoots through me like a virulent fire. The machines are going wild, beeping and flashing, and two nurses rush into the room as I try ripping the tubes and wires away from me.
DECLAN!!!
“Hold still. You need to calm down,” the nurse scolds, but I can’t. He’s going to kill him. He can’t kill him.
He can’t.
Choking against the breathing tube, I’m pinned down as the one nurse removes it, and once it’s out, I wail in utter pain, scratching out a dreadful cry, “Declan!! NO! Stop him!”
“Who?”
“Please!” I belt out, but I’m still pinned down, and when I see the syringe, I freak. “No! Don’t! Please!!”
And in an instant, I’m a boulder, sinking like a thousand pounds, deep into the bed. I fight the drifting and weep, body and voice growing weaker with every passing second. I cry, powerless to stop what is bound to happen. I can’t lose the Declan I know, the Declan I love, because if he does this, he’ll never be the same. And in the end, I’ll have no one to blame but myself.
What have I done?
When I can’t hang on any longer, I slip under into a desolate sedation.
Alone.
TWO DAYS LATER
When I woke from my sedation, only a few hours had passed. And when the police came to inform me that my husband had been murdered in our home—shot two times in the head—I needed to be sedated again. Knowing what Declan had done—for me—pushed me over the edge.
Guilt . . .
I haven’t heard from him or seen him. I miss him. I worry about him. I’m scared for him. I haven’t called him because I’m scared to draw any attention, but I’ve texted him using the app on my phone that he gave me. There’s been no response though. Pike has been missing too. So here I am, having no idea what to do, and I’m all alone in a life I no longer want.
I couldn’t go home when I was discharged from the hospital this morning; I was too scared of what I would see. The police told me that one of the building’s residents made the call to 911 after hearing gunshots. There was no sign of forced entry though, and the police confiscated Bennett’s computer and files, among other things, as they move forward in the investigation.