Consequences of Deception (11 page)
Jerking awake, I clutch my chest as I gasp for air. I want to push the memories away, but they keep coming and I am helpless to stop remembering the hell that my life became after that night.
I woke up in the hospital six days later to hell on earth. When Shannon pushed me from the window, I landed on and was stabbed by a fishing rod of my dad’s that had been leaning against the side of the house. In addition to having a fishing rod impaled in my side, I’d broken two ribs and my left arm. I had also lost an unbelievable amount of blood and was having trouble breathing because of the smoke damage to my lungs.
After I told the fireman that there were people in my house, my heart had stopped and the paramedics had to use the defibrillator to bring me back to life-- once in my yard and again at the hospital when I coded upon arrival. I was told later that I was touch and go for two days, and the odds of my survival hadn’t been good. I required a blood transfusion, had a breathing tube put in, and was heavily sedated.
When I woke up, Stephen and Celine were in the room. I knew then that my father was gone, because if he were alive he’d have been by my side. While I was still struggling to be able to speak, they told me that my father and Shannon had never made it out of the lake house. Falling out of my house and literally dying didn’t hold a candle to the absolute gut-wrenching agony that I felt right then. It only got worse when Celine coldly informed me that they had already had my father buried. I missed my father’s funeral and it broke something inside of me to realize that I’d missed Shannon’s as well since that meant Killian was alone. Their mother had died giving birth to Shannon and their father died of cancer two years ago.
After they dropped that information on me, there was a flurry of activity in the room as the doctors and nurses attended to me, taking my vitals again. The entire time all I could think about was Killian. As soon as the doctors were finished with me I looked at Stephen and croaked one word.
“Killian.”
Stephen shook his head in response but it was Celine that answered, and I will never forget the smug little smile on her face when she said the words that ruined me. “Killian hates you now, Sloane. He never wants to see you again.”
She killed me with those words, absolutely destroyed any little part of me that wanted to survive. The machines that I was hooked up to started beeping continuously as I shook my head and croaked out the words, “No… Killian…” over and over again.
Nothing and no one was able to calm me down, and my doctor had no choice but to give me a shot that sent me back to black.
When I woke up again, I decided that Celine was wrong. I refused to believe that Killian really hated me. As soon as I had my voice back, I forced Demi to lend me her cell phone so that I could call him. The conversation was horrifyingly short. I said his name and he let out a sound of pure rage before snapping out on me. “How dare you call me? HOW DARE YOU? I want nothing to do with you ever again. You’re dead to me.”
Without another word, he hung up on me, and I’d lost it and started hyperventilating. Once again, I got so upset that I needed to be sedated. I’d never heard Killian’s voice sound anything like what it did on the phone and my heart was destroyed.
I stayed in the hospital for a lot longer than the doctors had originally thought I would, due to the fact that I just didn’t care. Physical therapy was a nightmare because I didn’t have the emotional strength to connect and none of the therapists they sent my way helped at all. In the end, I buckled down and did the physical therapy just so I could get out of the hospital.
I went to sleep sobbing for my dad and Shannon only to wake up screaming for Killian every single night for months. Almost everyone that I loved was gone; the only people left being Demi and her family. They stood by me when I was at the lowest point of my life, and they got me help when I was so lost that all I could think about was dying to get away from my miserable life. I went from weighing one hundred and twenty-eight pounds down to ninety-eight because I was never hungry and anytime I did eat, I threw up.
A combination of things got me to stop wallowing in misery 24/7. The Tates sitting me down and telling me that my parents were watching over me and would be heartbroken if I didn’t live my life was the first wake-up call.
What followed was intense therapy that saw me taking anti-anxiety medication and sleeping pills. I was basically a robot for well over a year, but eventually I was able to wean myself off of the medications.
I saw Killian for the first time after the accident at a Starbucks in San Jose. In her continuing effort to get me back to a healthy weight, Demi had dragged me in for a muffin and a full fat latte.
The second he walked through the door, I had sensed his presence. Looking up, I watched as he walked toward the counter. I stood up fast, knocking my chair over in the process, uncaring about the loud noise that it made. Looking toward the source of the noise, Killian’s eyes had narrowed to slits when he saw me standing there.
I stepped forward to go to him, to beg him to talk to me, but he’d turned on his heel and walked right out. Springing into action I ran after him, catching up with him on the sidewalk. Reaching out, I grabbed his hand. My heart stopped when he looked me in the eye because I saw it all over his face—he really hated me.
“Please! Why won’t you talk to me? Why do you hate me?”
He yanked his hand out of mine fast and hard. Glaring down at me he snapped, “You know
exactly
why I hate you. Stay the fuck away from me or I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”
He left me there on the sidewalk without a backwards glance as he got into his car and sped away. I felt the sting of his hatred in the depths of my soul and I fell to my knees on the sidewalk, screaming his name.
“Killian! Nooooo! Please! Killian! I need you, I need you… I need you! KILLIAN!”
All of the progress that I’d made since starting therapy disappeared in a flash. I couldn’t get the image of Killian looking at me, with hate-filled eyes, out of my head and if Demi hadn’t scraped me up off that sidewalk, I’d probably never have gotten back up.
Remembering that time is like taking a knife to the soul, and thinking about that day at Starbucks in particular is heartbreaking. Forcing myself to stop, I roll over and curl into a ball and start counting backwards from five hundred.
I feel myself drifting out as I get to three hundred and ninety-nine.
It has been about six months since I have dreamt about those things, but I guess it really isn’t a surprise that the dream came back now, considering the fact that Killian is my trigger. My mood upon awakening this morning isn’t good, and I know just who to blame for that.
What pisses me off (and scares me) the most is that Killian is an asshole and it shouldn’t matter one way or another to me if he brings the entire female population of Pensacola back to the condo to blow him. I need to get over him.
The more that I run it over in my mind, the more certain I am that I need to wrestle control of the situation away from Killian. He’s had me on the ropes since the moment he came at me like he was stalking prey in that ballroom, and I’m done giving him the satisfaction of being a victim. I realize that my attitude now is borderline reckless, but I don’t really care anymore. At this point—there is nothing left to lose.
After I finish thinking it out and giving myself a stern pep talk, I get showered and ready for the day before walking out into the living area of the condo. In no way am I surprised to see Killian sitting at the breakfast bar, drinking a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper. I might not know him as well as I once did, but I know him enough to have been certain that he would be waiting for me this morning. If anything, I’m surprised that he didn’t force the confrontation last night.
Taking a deep breath, I make my way across the condo and into the kitchen. He studies me as I walk, so I hold my head high and do what I have to do to project the air of someone that doesn’t care. The son-of-a-bitch thinks he has me crumbling emotionally but, as he’s about to find out, I’m a lot stronger than that. I’ve lost everything and I’ve been dead—twice. If I survived that on top of the loss of my parents, then Shannon, and finally Killian—I can survive this too. I need to be strong enough to deal with Killian having cougar sluts suck his dick fifty feet from my door because I refuse to humiliate myself by acting like a heartbroken lunatic.
Grabbing a yogurt, a bottle of water, and an apple, I sit down one seat away from him at the breakfast bar. From the corner of my eye, I see his look of confusion; clearly he was expecting me to either sit at the table or leave the room entirely. Turning his way I meet his eyes and smile. “Morning.”
He inhales harshly, his eyes burning a hole in the side of my face as I busy myself opening my yogurt and licking the lid. The entire time he watches me, I completely ignore him.
“So, about last night…”
I give him a disaffected shrug. “It’s really none of my business and it’s no big deal. I was just annoyed that you woke me up. From now on I’ll just ignore any noises I hear after I’m in bed for the night. It’s that simple.” As I finish my little speech, I put a spoonful of yogurt into my mouth, clearly demonstrating that I am just fine with his slut-tastic sex life.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You weren’t angry because I woke you up. Nice try, little liar.”
Oh, he’s pissed! Instead of getting upset and throwing a tantrum, I am doing the unexpected. I mentally high-five myself as I raise an eyebrow at him and ask, “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb. You were jealous that I put my dick in her mouth. It was written all over your face, don’t try to deny it.”
Instead of rising to the bait, I roll my eyes at him. “If that’s what you want to think, have at it. To be perfectly honest it’s been a relief not having you around and if you’re going to be taking care of your sexual needs with women that aren’t me, I’m definitely not going to cry into my Cheerios about it. Feel free to bring a harem back with you every night, Killian. I couldn’t possibly care less.”
I expect him to say something snappy in return, but he stays silent and goes back to reading his newspaper. I’m really proud of myself for sitting calmly and finishing my breakfast without rushing.
After finishing, I go into the kitchen to throw my trash away and put my spoon in the dishwasher. I grab the house phone off the counter to call Chord to let him know that I’m heading down to the beach. Just as I dial the first two numbers, Killian’s head pops up.
“What are you doing?”
Holding the phone up I answer, “Calling Chord to tell him it’s a beach day.”
“Is that what the little smile is for? Do you have a crush on Chord or one of the other guards?” Slamming his hand down on the counter, he yells at me. “Do you really think I’d let him—let anyone—have you? You belong to me and you better not fucking forget it!”
My jaw drops in confusion. If I was smiling it was because I was proud of myself for keeping my cool while we talked about last night—not because I want Chord, Adam or Trey.
“Are you insane? NO! I don’t like anyone on the security team. Jesus Christ, am I not allowed to fucking smile around you? You’re behaving like a psychotic Neanderthal!”
