Unsteady (The Torqued Trilogy Book 1)
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Copyright © 2016 by Shey Stahl
Unsteady
Printed in the United States of America
All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of Shey Stahl.
Certain phrases, quotes, and/or lines from the author’s previous works may appear in this book and are copyrighted by the author. This book is a work of fiction. Names, sponsors, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, dead or living, is coincidental.
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For Marisa. You know why.
An hysterical cry greets me as I unlock my front door. It’s nothing new. Our little girl is headstrong and has no problem letting you know when she’s not pleased.
My keys fall out of my hand when I open the door. As I lean down to retrieve them, I yell for my wife.
“Nevaeh?” I call out, closing the door with my foot as I set my lunchbox on the floor. “Where are you?” For a second, I listen for her to yell back, but I can’t hear anything over Nova’s hysterical crying from her bed. She does this at night sometimes, cries until one of us comes and gets her.
Jogging down the hall, I open her bedroom door and find her standing on her bed holding her pink teddy bear by its foot. Tears stream down her red face as she shakes. Immediately I know this is not her normal fit. The look on her face is pure fear.
My heart pounds in my rapidly beating chest, and my hands tremble as I hold her close. “Shhhh, darlin’. Calm down.”
She doesn’t. Instead, she picks up with more hysteria and points toward her door. “Mommy! Mommy!” And she screams that, over and over again, so loud I can’t help but think again, this is more than just her nightly thing.
“Okay, okay,” I say, kissing her temple, attempting to comfort her by rubbing her back. “Let’s go find Mommy.” I keep her in my arms as we walk down the dark hallway, a lump rising in my throat with every step.
The moment I notice the light from the kitchen on, my chest tightens. It claws at me knowing something’s very wrong. The walls are closing in, suffocating me, and demanding I see what’s wrong.
As I come around the corner, her bare feet are the first thing I see, and then her legs. She's lying on her back, eyes closed, looking like she’s sleeping. Only she’s not. The sight punches my chest.
Nova’s screaming hasn’t stopped ringing in my ears as she struggles to get free. Nevaeh doesn’t move amidst the devastating cries from our daughter. She’s so still, undeterred by the noise.
I notice the blood next, a small amount pooled under her head. Everything seems to move in slow motion once I see that. Me setting Nova down, her screaming for Mommy, me scrambling for the phone. It’s just like the movies, caught in the middle of a nightmare as I try to shake her awake.
She’s not waking up. Her lips have a bluish tint to them, and her face seems to have faded to gray. “Nevaeh, honey… wake up.” I shake her again. Nothing. No movement at all.
Oh God. No. This can’t be happening. What do I do?
“Hold on baby, please.” I’m trying to keep my cool with Nova in the room but I know I’m scaring her. “Hold on!”
I know she’s hurt. Badly. Gently, I cup my hand under her head as blood wets my hand and I hold the phone with my other hand. “911, what’s your emergency?”
“It’s my wife.” My voice shakes around those three words. “She’s bleeding. She won’t wake up.”
“What’s your address, sir?”
“Uh, 877 Kees St.” Beside me, Nova lets out a hysterical cry as she runs down the hall, and I can’t help but think I’ve subjected her to something she shouldn’t have seen.
Fuck!
“Is she breathing?” the dispatcher asks.
I check, my fingers pressed to her neck as I hold the phone against my shoulder and ear. Nothing. No pulse. “No, she’s not.”
“Okay, sir, I’ve dispatched paramedics to the scene. They’re about a minute away.”
A minute? I don’t have a minute. I don’t have seconds.
Twisting my head to bury my face into my shoulder, I let my hand fall away from her neck. I know in my heart she’s gone already, and there’s no bringing her back. It’s clear looking at her.
This can’t fucking be happening.
No
. I want to vomit. It’s rising up as the dispatcher rattles off things for me to check, but I don’t. I stare at my wife, the mother of my child, wondering what the fuck could have happened. “Breathe, baby. Please just fucking breathe for me. Take a breath,” I sob, clutching her hand to my chest. “Open your eyes!”
“Daddy!”
Nova’s screams are like a knife in my body, over and over again. “Daddy, wake up!”
I blink at the screams, trying to focus on Nevaeh and how I can save her. Only I know there’s no hope. She’s gone.
…
“Daddy! Open your eyes!”
…
“Daddy!”
I startle awake with a jolt and gasp, sitting up in the bed. My chest heaves with memories racing through my head. Swallowing back tears stinging my eyes, I look at the side of my bed that’s now empty. The place where Nevaeh used to sleep.
“Daddy?” I jump at the sound of Nova’s voice as she touches my forearm. “Did you have a nightmare again?”
Blinking rapidly, I make out my daughter’s face beside me, dressed in her princess pajamas with her hair a wild mess. Her eyes hurt me, so badly, because they’re Nevaeh’s eyes.