Forever We Fall: Broken #4 (The Broken Series) (39 page)

His body stilled, his grip on my hand went slack, and when I screamed out I barely recognized the feral noise ripping from my throat.

"Wake up," I whimpered, shaking his motionless body. "Kyle, please," I begged.

Cupping his face with my free hand, I bent down and kissed his ice-cold lips. "Please, come back to me." I felt hands on my shoulders, pulling me away from him, but I shrugged free and crawled back to him. "Stay with me." My voice was rising to a high-pitched scream, but I couldn't focus on that. "There's no me without you," I bawled.

"Calm her down," a harsh voice demanded. "Get her out of the way now."

A pair of strong hands clamped down on my shoulders and I was dragged away from Kyle's body kicking and screaming. I futilely fought every step I was taken further from my husband, and when I heard Derek's voice in my ear, begging me to calm down, to think of the baby, that if I didn't calm down they were going to sedate me, it did nothing to ease the blackened, poisoned hatred that had taken up residence in my heart.

"He's going into cardiac arrest," I heard someone shout in the distance, and it was in that exact moment I felt my sanity slip away from me.

Gone. Blank. Empty.

Something of great significance had separated from me. I had lost my mind.

"Keep it clamped…keep it covered…got it…"

The high-pitched keening noises that were scaring me were coming from my own throat, I knew this, but not even my hands on my mouth could make it stop – make me stop. I couldn't stop this. They were wrong. This was all wrong.

I concentrated on the voices, knowing something terrible was happening, but for the life of me I couldn't make my mind remember…

"Clear."

Bang.

"Nothing."

Screaming.

"Clear."

Bang.

"Nothing. Dammit, come on, kid."

Wailing.

"Call it?"

No, no, no…

"One more time."

Thank god…

"Clear."

Bang.

"Nothing."

Heavy sighs.

"Call it."

Quiet murmurs.

"Time of d…"

"NO." My mind kick started in a panic and I lunged towards the crowd of people gathered in a circle, blocking me, keeping me from where I needed to be. From who I needed to be with. "Don't you dare give up on him."

Derek's arms around my body gave me no comfort and I scratched, bit and tore at his flesh as I tried to fight my way back to Kyle.

"Let me go." I screamed hysterically, struggling against his hold. "You don't understand," I roared. "He's afraid. He's scared of being on his own. I promised him. I promised I wouldn't leave him." I shook my head and tried to break free. "He's fine," I screamed so hard my voice cracked. "He was happy. Happy. We're having triplets…" My voice broke and I clawed at my stomach. "He's so happy. We're going shopping later. Picking you up first...the babies. He's happy. Don't make me leave him."

Drawing on all my strength, I threw my head backwards and thrashed my body in a desperate bid to free myself from his hold. "Derek, get your hands off me…"

"Please stop, Lee…" Derek's begged. His voice broke and I flinched and dug my fingers into his arms, breaking the skin. "He's…gone, sweetheart. Kyle's…" he choked on his words, crying hard and ugly. "He's dead."

"No," I roared, shaking my head. My vision blurred, my legs gave in and I fell to the ground vomiting. "He's not dead," I spat. "You're a liar. He's Kyle Carter. He can't die."

On my hands and knees, I tried to scramble back to Kyle, but Derek caught me again. "Don't touch me," I screamed, kicking out at him, but Derek didn't listen.

Pulling me into his arms, he rocked me gently as another man hovered over me. My whole body stiffened. I felt the sharp sting of a needle piercing my neck and everything became blurry, light, with the exception of my heart. The darkness was looming, waiting for me to embrace it, to take the easy way out, but I knew I had to push back.

"Kyle," I whimpered, shaking my head to clear my mind. "Kyle…" I fought against the cloudy darkness trying to drag me under. Trying to take me away from Kyle.

Taking me where?
I blinked and stared blankly at my hands.
Why am I bleeding?

"Shh." Someone kissed my head. "I'm here." Someone held my tighter. It wasn't Kyle. "I'm gonna take care of you," I heard someone vow. Someone familiar. "I won't leave you on your own, ice. I promise."

"You're silly," I mumbled groggily. "Silly Derek."

"I found Perry," I heard Derek whisper in my ear and I stilled.

"He's dead, Lee," Derek continued as he rocked me back and forth. "He paid."

He's dead, Lee.

He's dead, Lee.

He's gone, sweetheart.

He's dead, Lee.

He paid.

"Who's dead?" I mumbled drowsily. "Where's Kyle?"

My vision failed me, my body betrayed my hearts plea to fight, and I gave in to the overwhelming urge to close my eyes and sleep.

"We've got a pulse," was the last thing I heard before
the darkness possessed me once more.

****

Epilogue

Seventeen And A Half Years Later

Lee

When I was little, I never dreamed about the things other children dreamed about. I knew fairy tales were exactly that; fairy tales. Pretend. Make believe. Lies. There would be no knight-in-shining-armor ride into my world on his white horse and rescue me. I made peace with that at a young age. I accepted the hand I'd been dealt.

But then something extraordinary happened to me.

Something much better than a knight with a white horse.

When I was eighteen years old I ran away from home and straight into the arms of a hot-tempered, complicated, beautifully broken man. I fell in love with that broken man and he changed my world. He altered my mindset. I became a different person with him. He broke down my walls and picked up the pieces of my shattered childhood. He put me on a pedestal. He played me like a yo-yo. He made me feel safe…and then he snatched it all away. And then, when my whole world fell to pieces, he waded in and saved me. Put me back together again.

He was my hero. He was my heartache.

He was my best friend. He was my most frustrating antagonist.

He was my biggest doubt and my truest conviction.

He was my start, middle and end.

I was bound to him.

In life and in death.

Forever and Always.

When I was little, I never knew one person could feel the pain I have felt.

When I was little, I never knew one person could feel the love I have felt…

"Mom!" The front door slammed loudly, causing me to jump, and I quickly closed the journal I'd been writing all my feelings and memories in for the past few years before stashing it away in a cupboard filled with cleaning sprays. The cleaning cupboard was the perfect hiding place in this house because, let's face it, I was the only one who ever opened the door…

"It's over," Hope announced in a shrill tone as she stormed into the kitchen, threw her schoolbag on the table, and began to pace the floor in frustration. "He broke up with me, said he needs
space
,"
she hissed, her voice laced with disgust
.
"Said he'd
call
me." Hope unwound a white chunky knit scarf from her neck before dropping it on the table, along with her matching hat and blood red coat. "They broke him down, mom. I know they did." Her almost-black hair fell in lush curls to the middle of her back, her cheeks were stained pink from – what I hoped was – the cold, her sapphire-blue eyes bulged in her oval shaped face, and her thinly shaped eyebrows were set in a deep frown, letting me know that she was mad. Burning mad.

Oh boy…

"Why don't you sit down and tell me what happened?" I asked, feeling incredibly confused.

"He loves me. Jordan
loves me
, mom. I know he does," she declared fervently.

"I know he does, sweetheart," I agreed. Hope didn’t need to make a believer out of me. She was preaching to the converted. Jordan Porter had been in love with my daughter since as far back as I could remember, and I thought – and I was the only one who thought this – they made a wonderful couple. "He's a lovely boy."

"You know whose fault this is, don't you?" she ranted, chest heaving, ignoring my question. "Who's responsible for ruining my life?" She bit into her glove as she ripped it from her hand. "He finally scared him off," she puffed as she dragged the other glove off. "And now I'm living in hell. In. Hell. Mom."

Flicking her long dark curls over her shoulder, she planted her hands on her hips, locked her blue eyes on my face, and scrunched her nose up in distaste. "How dare he spy on me? Who I date is none of his business. I'm eighteen years old, dammit. I graduate from school in three months. He's not
my
father. How dare he try to dictate my life?"

Sighing heavily, I walked over to the table and lowered myself onto one of the chairs. "Uncle Derek loves you," I said calmly, the irate voicemail I'd received earlier from Derek starting to make sense. I hadn't been able to make out much of what he said, but I'd caught the gist of something that involved a bedroom, a blunt scissors and a convent…

"He's just trying to protect you," I coaxed. "He's trying to protect his son. Is that so bad, Hope?" I'd been having this exact same conversation with Hope since she and Jordan announced their relationship at Christmas – even though I'd known they were dating for months before that.

"I know he's handling this badly, but you need to cut him a break, sweetie," I told her gently. "This isn't easy for him either, you know. He thinks of you as his own daughter. It will take some time to adjust – for all of us."

"My love life has
nothing
to do with him," she argued. Hoisting herself onto the countertop, she leaned her elbows on her thighs and huffed loudly. "Who I
date
is none of his business. It's not fair, mom."

I sighed heavily. "He was a very good friend to…"

"Mom," Hope snapped, clearly irritated that I wasn't agreeing with her. "I don't care whose best-friend he was, is, or will be. My life is over and it's all his fault…"

"Goddammit, she's at it again," Cam grumbled as he sauntered into the kitchen, dropped his schoolbag on the table before making his way over to the oven.

Cameron was the eldest of my boys, the fieriest, the wildest, the most out-spoken, and the one who I broke out in a cold sweat worrying about every time he left the house. He was hot-headed and had an attitude that rivaled his father's. Cam's temper caused plenty of controversy in our house and put plenty of mileage on my car every time I was called to his school–which, without fail, was at least once a week. I didn't sleep a wink at night for fear of some poor girl's parents knocking on my door…

Opening the oven door, Cam looked inside, saw my chicken casserole, and muttered something incoherent before closing the oven door and rising to his full height of six foot one. "All you do is bitch and moan, Hope." He ran a hand through his dark hair and smirked at me, his dimple puckering in his cheek, his dark blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Mom, maybe you should buy her a pacifier. Something to keep her mouth busy."

"She's got her boyfriend for that, Cam," Colt snickered as he strolled into the kitchen, dumped his schoolbag, and headed straight to the fridge.

Colton's sense of humor was what set him apart from his brothers. He was charismatic and able to keep his inherent temper in check–most of the time. He had a laidback, easygoing nature and everyone was drawn to him. Tall, like his brothers and Hope, he had some serious spunk, layered with a buttery type charm. I swear from the age of four, Colton Carter could charm the birds from the trees. That thought gave me many sleepless nights... "What's for dinner?" Colt asked in his usual lazy drawl.

"Death in a casserole," Cam muttered as he nudged Colt out of his way and began to raid the fridge for the remnants of the lasagna Derek cooked for dinner last night.

"My cooking is not that bad," I chuckled as I stood up and walked over to where my boys were attacking each other for the last slither of lasagna. Taking my casserole out of the oven, I placed it on the counter in front of them and sighed. "I'm improving."

Both boys automatically clutched at their stomachs. "Tell that to Logan," Colt groaned. "He hasn't come out of his room since your cookies."

"Leave her alone, guys," Hope snapped as she came to stand next to me. "Don't take any notice of them, mom," she said in a soft tone I rarely heard anymore. She then proceeded to scoop a forkful of casserole and put it slowly – achingly slowly – into her mouth. "Mmm," she said with feigned gusto. "Much better."

Cam rolled his eyes and laughed loudly. "Mom." He pressed a kiss on the top of my head. "I love you, but honestly, I think you should let Uncle D make dinner from now on."

"Over my dead body," Hope snarled, slamming her fork down on the counter. "I'd rather starve than eat his food."

"Then starve." Cam shrugged nonchalantly. "It's no skin off my nose."

"Don't even get me started on your dumb ass," Hope snarled, focusing her glare on her brother. "You keep talking crap like that, Cam, and I'll lay all your shit bare."

"You wouldn't," Cam whispered in disgust.

"Try me, baby brother." Hope smiled darkly and gestured him forward with her hand. "I dare you."

"Bitch," Cam muttered under his breath, eyes locked on Hope in challenge.

"Guys," I warned, stepping in between my rambunctious children– dwarfed and outnumbered by the army of monsters I'd created. "Please stop fighting."

"Cam's right, mom," Colt added as he made his way over to the table, armed with a plate of sandwiches. "You need to rein it in, Hope. I've a goddamn headache just thinking about your voice, let alone hearing it.
He loves me."
he mimicked
. "He loves me not. He loves me
…Ugh." Colt shuddered. "Can't you just be normal?"

Hope turned her gaze on Colt. "You wanna take me on, Colt?" she asked sweetly. Raising her brow, she smirked at both boys before turning to face me. "Mom, did you know Colt had…"

"Let's not be hasty here," Colt interrupted quickly. Sinking down on a chair, he took a bite of his sandwich before suggesting, "Maybe we could cut some kind of a deal. What are your terms?"

"Good boy," Hope said as she strolled over to Colt and pinched his cheek. "You know your place. There's hope for you yet."

"Hey mom," Logan's voice came from behind me and when I turned around I smiled. Fifteen minutes younger than Cameron and seven minutes younger than Colton, Logan was my baby. Born premature, Logan had been the frailest of the boys – although you'd never think that now – weighing a mere three pounds in comparison to Colt's five pounds, and Cam's solid six and a half.

All of my children were like reincarnations of Kyle. They had all inherited their father's dark hair, blue eyes and signatory single-cheeked dimple, with the exception of Logan, who had dimples in both cheeks instead of just one, gray eyes like me, and self-control that rivaled a saint.

From a very young age, I'd realized that Logan was different to his siblings. Where Hope was headstrong, Cam and Colt tended to fly off the handle, Logan thought things through before he acted. He was deep. Don't get me wrong, he had his moments like his siblings, but he had such empathy, such awareness for other people.

"You feeling okay?" he asked quietly, his gray eyes searched mine before resting on my cheek. He flinched and I had to force myself not to cover my scar with my hand. I knew it upset him. It always had. None of my other kids seemed to take any notice of my scars, but Logan noticed. Logan was a worrier and his favorite thing to worry about was me. "Any pain today?" he asked croakily, touching my cheek with such gentleness my heart constricted. "You're beautiful, mom," he whispered just loud enough for me to hear.

I smiled at his words. He'd been doing this, saying these exact words, since he was three years old and realized my face looked different to the other members of our family. "Logan, I'm fine." I smiled brightly up at my sensitive son, patting his chest gently. "You're sounding more like your father every day."

"Is that a bad thing?" Logan said with a smirk, both his dimples deepening in his cheeks.

"That's a terrible thing," Hope groaned. "He's worse than Derek."

As if on cue, the front door slammed and Kyle's voice boomed through the house. "Princess, you'd better do something with that daughter of yours. She's gonna give me a goddamn heart attack."

"See," Hope hissed, her worried eyes locked on mine. "I told you Uncle Derek needed to stay out of my business. He sold me out to Dad."

"Ding-a-ling," Colt chimed with a smirk. "Carter versus Carter. Round three, ladies and gentleman."

"Shut up, Colt," Hope screamed as she stamped her foot in frustration. "Nobody understands me in this family."

"This is gonna be awesome," Cam snickered as he settled down in the chair next to Colt. "Nice knowing ya, Hope," he taunted as he leaned back in his chair and rested his feet on the table. "Dad's gonna take your ass to church. I'll be sure to send flowers to your funeral."

"Can I have your room?" Colt chuckled.

"Oh, and you two are so perfect," Hope sneered.

"You've got that right," Cam said with a smirk as he folded his arms behind his head. "I've been a good boy this week."

"It's
Monday
," Hope said in an exasperated tone. "And the day is still young."

The kitchen door opened inwards and I felt the atmosphere in the room change–crackle with electricity.

My body went on high alert.

My heart pounded against my ribs.

Kyle Carter – the love of my life, the father of my army of monsters – stood in the doorway, his presence scorching me, his penetrating blue eyes seeking me out. He looked damn fine in his work clothes– a crisp white shirt accompanied by a limp-looking blue tie, and black suit pants. And when his eyes found mine, he smiled a slow, predatory smile that was full of carnal promise. "Hey, baby," he purred, his deep, husky voice sending shivers up my spine.