Nearly Broken (25 page)

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Authors: Devon Ashley

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BOOK: Nearly Broken
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I groaned in pain, my
arms still wrapped around the toilet, my forehead too exhausted to
lift off my arms. My insides were still pinching and twisting madly,
the nausea burning away at my stomach, but there was nothing left to
come up.

It was disgusting to
be on the floor of a police station’s bathroom, but what
Detective O’Neill just told me minutes ago sickened me to the
point that my bodily reaction required the assistance of a porcelain
bowl. I actually had to run to make it to the bathroom in time. Like
it could literally reject the disturbing knowledge, my body heaved so
hard I pulled muscles all the way from my belly button up to my
throat.

Nick cracked the door
three times to call out and check on me. Before he could do it a
fourth time, I managed to stand and clean myself up and bury myself
into his arms. I wanted to sob right there, but I didn’t think
my body had anything left to give. “Nick,” I whimpered,
trying to dig even further into his chest, desperately needing to
escape my horrible freaking reality.

“I know, baby,”
he said soothingly. “And I don’t think we should ever
tell
any
one. For once I think the detectives were right. No
good can come from knowing that piece of information.”

I bobbed my head
slowly. “It just makes me sick.” All those poor girls…

Somehow, although I
felt incredibly dizzy and tired, Nick got me back to the car.
Unfortunately, we passed Farrow on the way and all that anger began
to boil and rise to the surface all over again.

Thankfully, I fell
asleep for the short ride, and the next thing I knew we were parked
in front of my childhood home. “Here,” Nick said,
grabbing a box of crackers from the backseat, part of the bag of food
he brought for the trip in case we got hungry. “I want you to
eat a few of these before we go in because you look like death right
now.”

That made me wonder
what I looked like in that basement all those months…

I took the handful of
Triscuit he offered and began nibbling away. Oddly enough, the
combination of wheat and salt eased the anger within my stomach, and
I soon felt a little better. Well, I should say my body began feeling
better, my mood however, grew angrier with each cracker that made its
way into my system.

Fucking police
department. Fucking Farrow and his intrusive questions. I had never
been so annoyed in my life. “I’m never going back there.
I don’t give a flying flip what they want in the future.”

“Sounds good to
me,” he answered drearily, rubbing down his face and eyes. This
day hadn’t been easy on him either. And I really wished he
hadn’t seen the photo of that guy’s remains; it was bad
enough he already
knew
what I had done. “You ready to do
this? Because I’d like to get back on the road already.”

“Yeah,” I
muttered, opening the passenger door and sweeping my hands together
outside to remove the crumbs lingering on my hands.

“So how’d
it go?” my mom asked once Nick and I let ourselves into the
house and found them in the family room.

“So awesome I
hope to go back, right after I shove a railroad spike through my eye
socket,” I snarked. “SIX FREAKING HOURS! And I still
don’t think I saw the right guy in all those pictures. But
nooooo….they
requested
my assistance in the matter.”

Requested my ass.

I fell aimlessly
backwards, praying the couch was within range like I thought.
“Insensitive jerks,” I muttered, rolling my head back and
crossing my arms tightly over my eyes. Nick sat beside me and dug his
hand between me and the sofa, massaging the kinks in my shoulders. I
had to admit, it was definitely reducing the output on my
bitch-o-meter.

“That good,
huh?” my mother confirmed.

“We won’t
be going back,” Nick replied firmly.

I suddenly realized I
just blew up like a spoiled brat on a tantrum in front of my parents,
whom I just re-met not too long ago. Awkward! And I was so wrapped up
in my anger I didn’t even hug them when I came in. And then I
realized I
wanted
to hug them, something I shied away from
internally the last time I saw them. What a difference two week’s
worth of phone calls could make! But I’d save those hugs for
later, when I wasn’t blushing from the shame of what I’d
done.

Somewhere behind me, I
heard clinking, and I knew my dad was making himself a drink. I never
felt so envious in my life, and I sighed heavily.

“Nick,” my
dad said.

“Oh, no thank
you, Tom. I’ll be the one driving back.”

“I know that,
son. Now pass it to my daughter already.”

“Oh.” Nick
did, and once the icy rock glass exchanged hands, my dad lightly
whacked him across the back of the head for his moment of idiocy.
“It’s been a long day,” he defended.

Normally, I would’ve
laughed at that, but I was too mesmerized by the fact that my dad
just purposely gave his twenty-year-old daughter alcohol. I gave him
a strange look, and he merely said, “Try it. It’s your
mother’s favorite. And it’s not like your mother and I
think you’ve never had a drink before.”

“Hmm…
Have I?” I asked Nick, and he gave me the funkiest look ever.

“Don’t be
asking me that in front of your parents.”

My dad mumbled a
knowing
uh-huh
and my mother cut in with, “It’s
fine, honey. If anyone deserves a drink around here, it’s you.”

No shit.

I sipped at the light
brown cocktail that contained a floating cherry and was pleasantly
surprised by its sweet, yet tart, flavor. I wasn’t used to
alcohol, so my head felt heavy in just five minutes. Nick told them
about our neverending session with our pain in the ass detective,
while I just leaned my head against the crook of his shoulder, his
arm wrapped loosely around me. I closed my eyes, and the
reverberations of his voice flowed from his body to mine, like
osmosis.

Osmosis…that’s
a funny word.
Ozz…smoooo…siiiiiiis.
Yep.
Whatever was in it, that cocktail was
ga-roooovy.

Their voices became
distorted, taking on sound effects that resembled the way Charlie
Brown’s teachers always came off.
Whap-whup-whap-waaaaa….
The sounds were soothing as the numbness overtook my body, shutting
down my brain’s ability to decipher the coded commentary around
me.

It wasn’t until
later when Nick gave me a hard shake that my eyes burst open and my
attention finally snapped to. “Huh,” I immediately
blurted without control.

“How are you
doing over there?”

I rubbed my eyes and
yawned. I was still feeling a little woozy, but clearer than before.

Chuckling, he replied,
“Never mind.”

“Huh?”
Seriously, I think that drink damaged my ability to speak. Note to
self: check for drool.

Amused, he answered,
“We were wondering if you were up for grabbing an early dinner
before we headed back to Portland, but I think you’d be better
off just passing out in the passenger seat and sleeping it off.”

Well, apparently, my
stomach had been keeping a generator hidden from the rest of my body,
because it didn’t need to coordinate with my brain to answer
Nick’s question. I’d be surprised if the neighbors didn’t
hear the rumble when Nick said the word
dinner
. “No,
no,” I said quickly. “I can eat. I’m starving.”

That being settled, my
parents disappeared into their bedroom to get ready, leaving Nick to
stand me up and get me going again. “You’re not going to
face-splat in your dinner, are you?”

“I might,”
I teased.

He licked his lips and
smiled wickedly. The things that boy could do with those lips. So.
Freaking. Hot.

“You never could
hold your liquor. I always had to limit you to two beers when we hit
the parties. Otherwise you’d pass out on me. And apparently,
one small cocktail with partial alcohol knocks you on your ass.”

“Then why’d
you let me drink it?”

Whipping me up in a
gentle squeeze, he kissed me before melding our foreheads together.
“Because your parents were right. You of all people deserve a
release. Even if it’s just a temporary two hour one.”

“Tell me you love
me!” Thea all but shouted with a wee bit too much enthusiasm.
She had called three hours ago to tell me she was running late on her
sales job, and asked if she could crash with us for the night instead
of driving on to Eugene. It was easier for her to get up a few hours
early than to drive those extra hours at night.

Playing along (sort
of), I answered with confusion. “Um. I love you?”

Standing there in the
hallway with her rolling luggage propped up beside her and her hands
hidden behind her back, I could only wonder what the hell she was up
to. “Ta-da!” she sang, whipping her surprise between us,
dangling a black garment bag.

Awesome. Laundry she
needed me to do? “Wow,” I stated with fake enthusiasm.
“It’s a bag.” She threw me a sour look, but hey, I
had
to give her a hard time because technically, her so-called
surprise was still hidden. She smacked my shoulder before tilting her
luggage and rolling her way past me and into the kitchen. I
methodically peeked both ways in the hall before securing all the
locks.

“Hey, great
place. Is Nick home yet?”

“No. He rarely
makes it home before twelve.”

Unzipping the bag, she
excitedly pulled out the dress it was protecting.

“Gorgeous.”
I reached out to touch the white dress with an empire waist. Organza.
It was cut at mid-thigh, backless and had only one strap, but what
really made the dress a beauty was the black lace appliqué. It
covered the strap, flowed down towards the belly button area in true
lace fashion, and wrapped around to the center of the back. So
basically one half was all plain, white organza and the other side
had the material peeking out behind the lace. Bold and beautiful.
“What’s the occasion?”

“Duh!”
Looking at me like I was an idiot, she said, “To wear to dinner
tomorrow night! I know Nick’s taking you to his restaurant.
Question is, why did I hear it from him and not
you?”

Ow. She actually poked
me in the chest. Hard. It figured she’d find out through Nick.
Back when I went missing, the pair of them began calling each other.
At first it was just to keep Nick informed of what the police was
telling my family. Then it became necessity to keep the other going,
to know that they weren’t alone in believing they would one day
find me. As the months went by, I think they felt so disjointed, that
by continuing to talk with the other, it made them actually feel like
they still had a piece of me there with them, both completely jealous
of the relationship the other had had with me.

Not to mention they
were the same age. They should’ve been able to find some way to
relate. Even today they still continued to talk at least once a week.
And I couldn’t help but secretly wonder what they’re
saying about me now that I’d been found.

Shrugging, I replied
nonchalantly, “It’s just dinner. He just wants me to see
where he works.” I honestly didn’t see what the big deal
was. “And my question is
why
did you bring me a dress
without sleeves?” Seriously. There was no way in hell I’d
show up to the place where Nick worked and expose my damaged skin to
everyone he knew.

“Relax. There’s
a black beaded cardigan you can pair this with. Mom says she brought
it over with all the other clothes. Just point me to the closet,
sissy.”

I pulled her luggage
into motion and beckoned her forward with a nod of my head. “They’re
in the guest room.”

“Ooh. Free for
all. And the best part of all, your memories are such crap you won’t
even notice if I snag a few pieces.”

I silently chuckled at
that, and secretly hoped she would help herself to a few of those
hangers. It was way more clothing than I’d ever use, and I
couldn’t believe there was even more to pick through at my
parents’ house.

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