Tapped (Totaled Book 2) (3 page)

            “Thank you, Sue. Please tell her that I’m sorry. Please tell her that I love her and I’m sorry.”

            “Go fuck yourself!”

            If Sue had been on a landline instead of a cell phone, I’m certain that I would’ve heard the receiver slam down. I understood. I hated it, but I understood. At least I knew that Bree was okay, or going to be. Sue was taking care of her.  It broke my heart, but I had to wrap my head around the fact that she didn’t want to speak to me. I’d only felt this devastated once before in my life.

            I began stripping the sheets to clean up the mess I’d made of my bedroom—the mess I’d made of my life. I’d been given a second chance at happiness and my demons reared their ugly heads to ruin it for me. I was completely and utterly lost as to what to do next. I tried to calm down. I tried to think straight. I tried to tell myself to be patient. But I could do none of those things. 

            I threw my sheets into the washing machine and felt the guilt slam into me full force. The remorse and devastation of exactly what I’d done stared me down as I poured on the Oxy-Clean. I should’ve kept them there. I should want the reminder. I needed to be reminded that I
am
not
and
will
never be
good enough for Brianne Murphy. I do nothing but fuck things up. Everything I touch goes to shit. No matter how far I run away from home, my past will always be there to haunt me. My mind was everywhere—sheer embarrassment that she had to see me in that condition, remorse that she was caught in the crossfire, and such tremendous guilt for selfishly putting her at risk. I got too comfortable. Too complacent. I almost killed her.

            I got into the shower and let the scalding water rain over me. If only it could wash away the destruction and regret. I grabbed my bar of soap and started scrubbing. I couldn’t wash my skin hard enough. I couldn’t wash away what I’d done.

            I was no better than my father. That’s how everyone would see me now. Sue said it herself. Abusive. She thinks I beat my girlfriend. Consciously, willingly, purposefully. Like I made the choice to hit her.

            Looking down at my forearms as I ran the bar of soap over them, I noticed the marks. Scratches and fingernail marks. Her half-moon indentations on my skin, evidence that she fought. She tried to stop me. And she couldn’t. My knees suddenly gave out and vomit erupted out of my stomach all over the tile wall. I hurled and wretched until there was nothing left. I purged all of the disgust I felt in that moment. And then I broke down. The sobs wracked my body. I cried. I dry heaved. And then I cried some more. I remembered finding her in the shower in a similar state in Atlanta not too long ago after the secrets of my past were exposed. Liam was hurt and in the hospital and she had to deal with my baggage on top of all of that stress.
The pressure got to be too much for her. The memory was physically painful. I couldn’t quite catch my breath and felt like I was almost suffocating.

            There’s nothing left for me now.

            Not without her. Without her, I have nothing.

            I am nothing.

Chapter Three

BREE

            “How does your head feel?” Sue asked casually as we sat at Alan’s kitchen table eating cereal.

            “Like I was hit with a baseball bat,” I offered. Chewing my
Cookie Crisp
wasn’t too painful once it’d sat in the milk for a few minutes and gotten nice and soggy. I wondered if a fractured jaw would just heal itself.

            “Well, were you?”

            I dropped my spoon into the bowl and looked up, about to answer her. I halted my words at the look in her eyes. She was worried. Lost. Hurt. Confused. I owed her an explanation.

            “I wasn’t hit by a baseball bat. I’m sorry. You deserve to know what happened. And I’ll tell you, I will. Just please listen and try to reserve your judgment. Please.”

            She stopped eating her cereal too, as if moving her spoon was going to interrupt or distract and she needed to be entirely focused on me and the story.

            “Drew has some issues,” I began.

            “Yeah, I’ll say,” she interjected.

            “Okay, stop,” I warned, putting up my hand. “You need to just let me talk. Please.” I wouldn’t be able to do this if she wasn’t going to take me seriously. I brought my hands together in front of my face, my elbows resting on the table. It was then that I noticed that a few of my fingernails were broken.

            “Sorry. Go ahead. I’ll be quiet.” Her expression was genuine and apologetic.

            “You know about his past, everything that happened with his parents, right?” She nodded in affirmation. “Well, he’s still dealing with a lot of those issues. He withdraws a lot, needs alone time often. It’s difficult for him to open up at all, much less about his history. It was getting better though. Everything was going great, actually. Until last night.”

            Sue opened her mouth to say something but caught herself and sat patiently waiting for me to continue, albeit with a curt roll of her eyes.

            “We had a great night together. He was attentive and affectionate and even romantic, trying to truly show me instead of just tell me how much he loves me.”

            Her eyes rolled in annoyance and she pointedly took me in from head to toe, obviously pointing out the juxtaposition of my speaking fondly of him while looking like I did.

            “I’ll spare you the details, but we dozed off and I woke up to him having an awful nightmare. He was yelling and thrashing around, fighting someone in his dream, I think. I tried to wake him up but he wouldn’t snap out of it. At one point he had his eyes open, but the lights were on and nobody was home. He looked possessed, shouting at someone that wasn’t there. He climbed on top of me and started hitting me. He was so heavy. So strong. He was choking me and…” I couldn’t continue. Recalling the venom in his eyes as he beat me was too powerful and I couldn’t help but cry.

            “It’s okay,” Sue consoled as she came to sit next to me, embracing my shaky body and gently guiding my face into the crook of her neck. “Bree, you don’t have to lie for him. You don’t have to keep anything from me. He’s never going to hurt you again. You never have to see him, period,” she assured as she stroked my hair.

            I pulled back, raising my voice, which burned my sore throat, to shout, “That’s just it.
He
didn’t hurt me. It wasn’t
him.
He didn’t know it was me,” I insisted. “I’m not lying or hiding anything from you!”

            The disbelief and pity in her expression pissed me off.

            “I love him. He loves me. He would never intentionally hurt me.” I started to place my face into the palms of my hands, ashamed and confused, but the contact made me wince in pain. It hurt so badly that I couldn’t even hang my head and hide behind my hands; I couldn’t touch my face. I wished I could make her understand. “I don’t want to lose him,” I whispered.

            “Bree, I know you love him, but you can’t willingly and knowingly put yourself in danger like this again. If he really was having a nightmare and was actually unaware of what he was doing…” Sue was mocking, spewing her condescension and talking to me like I was a child. “What if he hadn’t woken up? What if he didn’t stop until it was too late? He almost killed you.”

            “I know. You don’t think I know that?” I whined with barely any volume to my voice. “I don’t know what to do.” And it was true. I had no idea what to do next. “What did you tell my father? Where does he think I am?” I confronted, narrowing my eyes at her.

            “I talked to Liam this morning. I told him Drew wasn’t feeling well and you didn’t want to get sick so you were hanging out with me.”

            That’s good, I thought. That’s a start. “What about tomorrow? And the next day? I can’t go home looking like this. I can’t stay at Alan’s house forever.” I paused. “Who is Alan, anyway?”

            “He’s a friend from nursing school. He was a corpsman in the Navy until he got out last year. Now he works as a paramedic. He’s a nice guy; your secret is safe with him. He doesn’t know anyone in Fernandina. He's the first person I thought of to help you, and since we’re in St. Augustine, I figured it was far enough away if we did have to take you to the hospital.”

            “We’re in St. Augustine?” I exclaimed. I felt embarrassed that I didn’t even know where I was and bad that Alan was dragged into this whole thing. “Where is he now?”

            “Chill out. He’s working a twenty-four hour shift today. He said we can stay here as long as we need to. He’s cool, seriously. I promise.”

            “Are you sleeping with him?” I challenged. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was, only shocked that I hadn’t heard of him until now.

            She smirked, raising her eyes to mine in defiance, and brushed me off with a curt, “No. Not even a little bit.”

            I wasn’t sure I believed her, but I chose to leave it alone and direct my focus back to my dilemma. “I have to tell my father something. What do I do?”

            “Just call and tell him you need a little getaway and so you and I are going away for a few days. What’s he going to do, fire you?” she joked.

            “Quit it. I’m a horrible liar.” My stomach turned at the thought of it, but there was nothing else I could do. “Okay. I’m going to call him. You’re sure Alan’s okay with us moving in here for a few days?”

            “Yes. I’m sure. Just relax. Call your dad.”

            “Where’s my phone?”

            “I have it,” she confessed, not making eye contact with me.

            “Well, can I have it, please?”

            “I don’t think that is a good idea,” she muttered, still looking down at her bowl.

            “Oh yeah? And why is that?” Her high-handedness was starting to piss me off.

            “I don’t think you should talk to him yet,” she argued, finally looking up. “I think a little time and space is best for both of you. I told him not to call you anymore, but he won’t stop.”

            “What?! When did you talk to him? Is he okay?”

            “Are you even serious right now? Is
he
okay? What about
you
?” She raised her voice and stood in defiance. “I can’t believe you’re so concerned for him. Do you need to go look in the mirror again? Do you need a reminder of what you look like right now?” She walked to the sink, tossing her bowl and spoon down with a loud clank. “I swear, Bree. You’re infuriating.”

            “Sue, please…I need to know. What did he say?” The desperation in my voice sounded pathetic but I didn’t care.

            “He called me. The son of a bitch actually called me, looking for you. I told him that you were safe but that he needed to leave you the hell alone.” She walked away dismissively, going into the living room, and I followed.

            “Did you tell him my father doesn’t know? Did you tell him I didn’t go home? He needs to know. He needs to know that I’m going to be okay.”

            Turning around abruptly, she raised her finger, pointing it aggressively in my direction. “He needs to get some fucking help, that’s what he needs! I’ve never been the type of friend that just tells you what you want to hear. That’s not the way we are and right now is no different. I refuse to encourage you to give someone who obviously has an anger management problem and uses his fists to deal with things another chance. I refuse to be an enabler for an abusive relationship. He needs therapy or meds, maybe both. What if he doesn’t get help and this happens to you again? What if it happens to someone else? This isn’t something you can fix, Bree. He needs to get professional help before he kills somebody else!”

            Her words cut into me like a knife. Harsh and blunt, the only way Sue knew how to be. And she was right. I had to believe that if he loved me, he would get the help he needs. I couldn’t fix this. Not this time. I couldn’t help him. He needed to help himself.

            Ten minutes later, I returned to the kitchen after telling my father I was going to Tampa with Sue for three days to hang out with friends. He didn’t seem worried or upset at all. He even went so far as to say that I deserved a getaway. Now I just needed my face and neck to heal. I supposed my heart needed to heal as well, so I reluctantly handed my phone to Sue with a look that confessed that I didn’t trust myself with it. She took it smugly and then put on her nurse hat to go over the note Alan had left about possible red flags that would suggest my concussion was getting worse. I listened with half an ear, letting myself sink down onto the couch cushions where I zoned out until I finally succumbed to the exhaustion.

Chapter Four

DREW

            Two days. Fifty-four hours and twenty-seven minutes, to be exact, since I watched her hobble out of my house. I watched her walk away. I let her leave. I attacked her and then I didn’t fight for her. It had been over two days and the pain and loss were no better. Loads worse, in fact. I had barely eaten. I certainly hadn’t slept. I hadn’t showered since my vomitus breakdown after I saw her defensive marks on my skin. I just wanted to talk to her. I needed to apologize. I needed to make it all right again. But how could I? What magic words could I possibly offer to erase the damage I’d done to her? To us?

            My self-wallowing was interrupted by a knock on the door. I didn’t have the energy to care who it could be. Unless…I jumped up and ran to the front door, thinking maybe, just maybe, it could be her. Maybe she’d come back to me. Maybe I can fix it.

            I yanked the door open to be greeted by Pat. My coach. Bree’s father. Shit. This was it. The moment that I die. He’s certainly here to kill me. Although, he didn’t look angry.

            “Well, well. You’re alive! You look like shit, but you’re breathing,” he said, chuckling at himself as he stepped around me to let himself in. “Liam said you didn’t feel well and then when you didn’t show again yesterday, I wanted to make sure you were okay. What’s wrong?”