Nearly Broken (26 page)

Thea found the beaded
cardigan easily, then I reluctantly got out of my comfy pajamas to
try it on for her. I had to admit, the girl had style and taste.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I noted the time. Nine-thirty.
“Did you eat dinner yet, because we have some leftovers if
you’re hungry.”

She eyed me warily,
biting on the corner of her lower lip. “What?” I cried
exasperatedly, my hands moving to my hips, my body arching forward. I
probably resembled a deranged chicken, ready to peck out her eyes
over one wrong word. “Are you going to make fun of my cooking,
too?”

She laughed, and I
loved the way her light brown eyes lit up as if they were a life
force all of their own. “I’m sorry. It’s just, you
were never a good cook. Even your Jell-o came out hard as a rock.
It’s actually kismet that your soul mate ended up being a chef.
Otherwise, I think you would’ve spent the rest of your life
eating hamburger helper and peanut butter and jelly.”

And soup. Can’t
forget the soup. “Oh, I hate you all,” I muttered
playfully. “The leftovers are Nick’s, so you’re
sure to avoid food poisoning before your meeting tomorrow morning.”

I pulled off the
cardigan, momentarily forgetting that Thea had never seen any of my
burns before. The way her eyes widened… I don’t know. I
could only describe her reaction as despair. She took my right hand
into hers, twisting my arm, inspecting every bump and groove with her
fingertips. Only Nick had really ever touched my burns that way. It
should’ve felt odd, but strangely, it didn’t bother me
that she was doing that.

“God, Cl–,
I mean, Megan,” she moaned dismally. “I’m so
sorry.”

I pulled my arm away
and sat down beside her on the edge of the bed, both our gazes locked
on my arm. “It’s alright. I’m slowly adjusting to
it. Nick’s helping me feel comfortable in my own skin again.”

When I looked up, Thea
was shaking her head, her eyes closed tight, failing miserably at
stopping the streams of tears I never even realized were flowing.
“No. You don’t understand,” she sobbed. “It’s
all my fault.”

I almost thought I
didn’t hear her right, because there was no way there was any
truth to that. “What? Why would you ever think that?” I
asked with a soothing voice, reaching up to lightly rub the back of
her shoulder.

She opened her eyes,
but they sagged, the tan colored irises seemingly drowning. “I’m
sorry, Megan. But that morning…you were running late.”

“How would you
know that?” I asked carefully. “Mom said no one knew what
time I left the house because I was the last one to leave.”

“Because I came
by,” she admitted. “I was the reason you were running
late that day.”

Shrugging it off, I
asked, “So what if you were?”

I wanted to say more,
to tell her it didn’t matter what time I left the house, but
she wouldn’t let me. With surprising force, she threw her hand
out between us, begging me to stop. “Just. Please. Let me say
this before I lose the courage.” Biting my tongue, I let her
keep going. “The night before, my boyfriend and I had a huge
blowout. I caught the bastard cheating on me. He kept blowing up my
phone and I really didn’t want to talk to the shithead, so I
silenced my phone and came to the house instead of my apartment. I
guess Mom and Dad never noticed my car because it was parked in front
of the neighbor’s house.

“I just wanted
to talk it out with you, but you were already asleep by the time I
got there.” Her tears were stalling, so Thea took a moment to
wipe her face clear, her pale skin looking gray and sickly from
excess moisture. “Needless to say, I didn’t sleep well.
You woke me up in the morning banging all around in the bathroom. I
was just so pissed that I went off on you.” She groaned and
dipped her head. “God, I was such a bitch. I know we were
friends and all, but we were sisters, too, so we were known to have
some pretty epic fights.

“Ever the good
sister, you tried to calm me down but I was just so far gone at that
point it was falling on deaf ears. Talking was the last thing I
wanted to do. We went at it so long you were at least twenty minutes
late leaving for school.” Thea began shaking her head again,
her face straining to fight the flow that glistened her eyes again.
“I know…
I know
you were speeding to get to
school. You had Journalism first period and that class was your
reason for getting up every morning. And I can’t help thinking,
that if I hadn’t come over, or fought with you, or just not
been such a bitch to you that morning, they wouldn’t have
noticed you. You would’ve been blending in with the flow of
traffic. You never would’ve been at the wrong place at the
wrong time. You would’ve missed them altogether, because you
would’ve already been in class, safe and sound.

“I did it,”
she sobbed hysterically. “I did all these things to screw with
you that morning, to make myself feel better, and it got you stolen
in return. And I never told anyone the truth. Because I knew they’d
all hate me for it. And I just couldn’t take any more guilt.”

She completely buried
her face in her hands, crying wildly, choking on the fluid that
rushed and clogged her throat. My own tears had long been flowing by
the time she tried to add, “It’s my fault. The
kidnapping. The rapes.” Her fingers splaying, her eyes focused
on that horrible burn on my arm. “Your burns. You have no idea
how it’s eaten away at me, knowing I did all that to my little
sister. I was supposed to be protecting you. I’m the world’s
worst sister and I am so sorry.” It was hard to catch all that,
since she was blabbering and gasping for air between syllables, but I
didn’t need to hear every word to understand her, and to
realize how way off-base she was for taking the blame.

I had to close my eyes
off, the liquid blurring my vision, the light on the ceiling fan
hitting my face at just the right angle to blind me, inducing the
equivalent of a brain freeze. And after all the crying I’d done
as of late, everything just ached.

Why did everybody
think my disappearance was their fault? First Nick, now Thea. My
parents probably harbored the same thoughts. And the truth was, it
was nobody’s fault. Not even my own.

I know Nick and I
agreed it was best to keep what Detective O’Neill told us to
ourselves, but right now, I was seriously doubting that decision. I
couldn’t let Thea keep suffering from these thoughts. So we
fought that morning. It sounded like just another day in the life of
sisters and/or best friends. Nick and I thought keeping this to
ourselves was best because nothing could be gained by sharing, and
that it would never fix anything. Turns out we were wrong.

“Thea,” I
said softly, clearing my clogged throat. Her sobs overpowered my
voice, so I said, “Thea,” more firmly a second time.
“Look at me.” When she didn’t, I added, “Come
on. If you think you’re responsible for my messed up life, then
you could at least look me in the eye when I say this to you.”

Eventually, she found
the courage to raise her head, but it continued to jerk as her chest
began hiccupping sporadically. And I had serious doubts she could
actually see me through that waterfall rushing over her eyes. “They
were following me long before they took me. There was even a tracking
device on my car. They were going to find me that morning no matter
what time I left or where I went.”

She froze, her eyes
bouncing all over the place like a ping-pong game gone on the fritz.
“Wait… What?”

“My car had a
tracer on it. Best they can tell, the police think I was the only
girl who was selected in advance.” Detective O’Neill said
it was possible that one of the girls walking could’ve had a
tracer on their belongings, but it was highly unlikely since you
never knew what a person was going to carry or wear day to day. Which
meant I was their priority pick-up. And like Nick had once suggested,
I was meant to be brainwashed and made into more of a companion. “The
cops said I was tagged because I was most likely chosen and sold
before they ever even stole me.” And it was probably my fault
all those other girls got stolen, too. They came to Seattle to grab
me but took several more once they had me. That’s what really
made me throw up that day at the police station. All those girls…who
were most likely still being drugged and raped to this day, were
picked up because of
me!
I wanted to help them, I really did,
but I knew nothing that would ever help the cops find them.

I couldn’t make
myself feel better, but maybe I could ease the guilt suffocating
Thea.

I wrapped my arm
around her shoulder and pulled us together, grasping her hand with
mine. “Nothing you did that morning was responsible for my
disappearance. If anything, you spared me twenty more minutes from
that life. So please stop hating yourself. And stop crying. Because
you’re making me cry. And I am so freaking tired of crying.”

Unfortunately, my
words only made us bawl even more, but I think I caught a hint of
relief in her eyes, and our tears slowly became more of a release
than us dealing with the horrors afflicting our minds.

God, I needed all night
and the next day to recover from that. Just like when the detective
told us at the station about the trace, my insides twisted into a
thousand knots and sudden nausea sent me on vacation with the
porcelain bowl. Luckily, Nick was taking the day off, so I had him
there to help soothe and unclench the grip misery seemed to have on
my body. Thea had left early in the morning, looking like she spent
the night at a noisy, never-resting frat house. Hopefully she’d
be able to clean herself up before her first meeting.

By mid-afternoon, I
was feeling better, but Nick was still hesitant to take me to dinner.
“We can do this anytime. It doesn’t have to be tonight.”

“No. God, if
I’ve learned anything from my messed up life, it’s that
you don’t even know if tomorrow will come. So let’s go.
I’m in need of happier memories.”

He reluctantly agreed,
but I think his hesitance got chucked to the back seat when he saw me
the first time in that gorgeous white and black dress. For the first
time since I went missing, I actually had an occasion to wear heels,
and was completely surprised at how at ease my body was with the
strappy shoes securing my feet. The dress looked far better without
the cardigan, but Nick didn’t seem to know any better.

I had to do a double
take on Nick too, because I had never seen him in a suit before. And
damn it all to hell, after seeing how sexy he could be all cleaned
up, I really didn’t want to go to dinner anymore. Damn…
I really wanted to head back to my childhood room and toss that place
upside down, because somewhere in there were two years worth of
formal pictures I was missing out on.

I literally dropped my
jaw over Kettle Fusion. The exterior was nothing more exciting than
the rest of the block, but the inside… Holy hell. It was of
modern design, sleek with steel and filled with vivid shades of
cranberry, midnight blue and dark orange, which were really soothing
to the eyes in dimmed lighting. The seating was so plush it looked
more comfortable than the bed I sank into every night. And the walls
had the strangest art deco from a local artist, who liked to work
with a variety of metals and glass.

Nick greeted the
hostess Sarah, who immediately sat us. Turned out we weren’t
eating in the dining room, and we were taken up the elevator to a
hidden veranda, where only three tables were available for select
clientele. I wanted to smack myself for scanning as many faces I
could as we passed, always seeking that particular one I never wanted
to see again. And after flipping through so many at the police
station, I confirmed my worst fear: his image was beginning to blur.
I could remember
what
his distinct features were, but not the
picture itself anymore. What if I did come across him one day? Would
I even be able to recognize him at that point? And it made me worry
more, continually rechecking the men around me, making sure there was
no possible way each and every one of them couldn’t be
him
.

I forced a smile to
budge my mind from the thought. Stepping out of the elevator, it was
a short, straight walk to our destination. A structure of glass
protected us from the elements and it was so clean there wasn’t
even the tiniest smudge to distort our view. The other two tables
were occupied, already eating, and they politely nodded as we took up
the third.

“Wow, Nick. This
is really nice.”

“It really is.
Hopefully I can put in a few years here.”

My head turned towards
him, but he continued to stare off at the skyline, completely unaware
that his mother told me he was considering a move to Seattle for my
benefit. Little did he know, I’d fight him to the death on
that. He’d already sacrificed too much for me.