Tapped (Totaled Book 2) (2 page)

            It was all I could think about. We were supposed to go to Fort Clinch today for a nature walk. We were supposed to watch the submarine go out to sea. I planned. We were supposed to have a picnic. I made a basket. We were supposed to be happy and in love and hold hands and sneak kisses. And now we can’t. We can’t possibly stick to that plan because right now I’m sitting in my car on the side of the road. I should’ve known not to leave his driveway. I didn’t even recognize where I was. I’ve lived here for twenty-two years and I know every street and road and house and ditch in this town. But I didn’t recognize this one. My vision was blurry. I felt dizzy and woozy. And my head hurt so badly. So very badly. If I could just rest a little, I’m sure I’d feel better. I just needed to close my eyes for a few seconds.

            “Bree? Oh my God. Bree, wake up! Please, please, please wake up,” she begged. The voice sounded like Sue but muffled, like I was underwater or something.

            “I’m so tired. Please just let me rest,” I squeaked out in a whisper.

            “I know you are, honey. Please just keep your eyes open for me. Keep talking to me, okay?” I felt her lightly tap the side of my cheek in an effort to keep my eyes open, wincing at the throbbing pain that it ignited.  “I’m going to lift you up now. We need to get you into my car,” Sue instructed, her voice cracking with emotion.

            “I don’t think I can walk. I’m too heavy for you to carry.” My head alone felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. “Can you get my purse out of the car?”

            “Yes. I’ll get it,” she said as I took a few steps away from my driver’s side door, almost stumbling. I couldn’t seem to focus on anything for more than a few seconds and felt even dizzier when I attempted to walk.

            “I think I need to lie down,” I whined, allowing my knees to bend and my body to sink to the ground.

            But Sue was right behind me, holding me up under my arms, guiding me straight ahead to her car. “No, no, no, don’t sit down. Just a few more steps, Bree. I need you to walk a few more steps and get into my car, okay? I’m going to get you to the hospital.”

            Sobering up instantly, I halted in my stumbling travels to turn to her and insist “No! No hospitals. He’ll get in trouble. We can’t go to any hospital, Sue. Don’t take me there, I’m begging you.”

            “He’ll get in trouble? Who? Who did this to you?”

            I plopped down less than gracefully onto the passenger seat of her car, my blurry gaze rising to hers, and I saw the exact moment she realized. Her expression revealed disbelief, denial, sadness, and then instantly turned to rage in mere fractions of a second. My eyes, swollen and struggling to remain open, stayed on her face to watch her turn and stare out into the dark, early morning like they were searching for something. Answers? Clarity? For someone to help? Someone to hurt? She returned to me, reaching across my body with the seatbelt, and shut the door, which sounded like Thor himself slammed it right next to my head. I relaxed back into the seat and reality faded away.

***

            I was awakened by the most awful smell of ammonia assaulting my senses and a bright light shining into my pupils that felt like needles being poked into my brain through my eyes.

            “Can you hear me?” a male voice called out to me, sounding a mile away.

            The image of his silhouette came into view and I was able to focus enough to realize that a man was standing right in front of me, speaking right to my face despite his voice sounding so distant.

            “Bree? Can you hear me?” he asked again, a little more patient for my answer now that my eyes were open.

            “Yes,” I replied, my throat scratchy. “I can hear you,” I answered more clearly, after swallowing. “Where am I? Who are you? Where’s Sue?” Panic was setting in as my surroundings became clearer.

            “I’m right here, Bree,” Sue reassured, bringing her hand over mine and gently squeezing. “You’re okay. I brought you to a friend to get checked out. This is Alan. He’s a paramedic.”

            “You brought me to the hospital? I told you not to bring me to a hospital!” I exclaimed, trying to sit up rather awkwardly.

            “You aren’t in a hospital,” he said in a calm and steady voice, reaching behind my upper back to help me sit up. “You’re in my home. And you’re safe.”

            I looked around, confirming that it appeared I was, in fact, in someone’s living room. I glanced to my left to be greeted with Sue’s face, red and swollen from obvious crying. I immediately felt awful.

            “I’m so sorry.” It was all I could say to her before I started crying myself, which did nothing to help my throbbing head.

            She came over and brought me into a hug, whispering into my ear as she caressed my hair, “Don’t apologize. I’m glad you called me.”

            We took a few minutes to both compose ourselves before Alan, who had apparently walked away for a minute during our tearful embrace, returned, offering me a drink.

            “Can you try to drink a little of this? It’s ice water.”

            I couldn’t drink it fast enough. My mouth was dryer than the Sahara and my throat felt swollen and scratchy.

            “Easy there. You don’t want to blow chunks again,” he joked.

            Horrified, I looked to Sue, who nodded regretfully.

            “Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll send you a bill for the detailing on my car,” she quipped.

            I looked down to see that I was wearing someone else’s clothes. A pair of soccer shorts and a huge t-shirt with the words “Flagship Romance” screen-printed across the front draped over me. I looked up at him with a questioning expression and he answered the question that I didn’t even ask with a curl of his lips.

             “It’s a band. A local couple. One of my favorites, so please don’t puke on it.”

            “I won’t puke on it. I’m sorry. I feel fine. I’m actually really thirsty.”

            “I’ll get you some more. Are you hungry? Want to try some crackers?” he offered. “You should start out slow. I suspect you have a concussion, so you’re likely to puke again.”

            “That would be great,” I replied gratefully and watched him leave the room.

            It took Sue no time at all to begin her line of questioning.

            “So…? What the hell happened?”

            I couldn’t even answer her before traitorous tears started rolling out from behind my eyes. How was I even supposed to explain this? How did this happen?

            “Okay, I’m sorry,” she said softly, taking my hand. “I don’t mean to pressure or upset you. Take your time. But I need to know what in the hell is going on here. When I finally found your car down the block from Drew’s house, I thought you were dead. You wouldn’t respond to me for a couple of minutes.
Minutes,
Bree.
Do you know how long a couple of minutes is when you think your best friend is about to die? I was literally dialing 911 when you finally answered me. And your face. Good God, Bree! Have you even looked at your face? Of course you haven’t. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for the last six hours.” She rambled on, speaking every thought that had been rolling around on repeat in her head the whole time that I was asleep. “Alan says you definitely have a serious concussion and insisted that I take you to the hospital, but I wouldn’t let him. He thinks your jaw might be broken and your eye socket bone or some shit may be fractured too. And your neck looks like someone tried to strangle you.”

            “Can I take a shower?”

            “Jesus Christ, Bree! Did you hear anything I just said?”

            She was obviously livid. I wanted to tell her everything and crawl under a rock at the same time. I wanted to ease her fears and make her understand, but I was terrified myself. Scared shitless to remember and relive the terror. Nervous to know the extent of my injuries and see his nightmare’s handiwork. Fearful to face this entire mess.

            “I heard you. I’m sorry. I just need a minute and I’ll tell you everything. Please… just give me a minute.” I reached over the side of the recliner, pulling the lever to lower my feet and slowly stood up, needing a few seconds to gain my bearings. “Where’s the bathroom?”

            “It’s the first door on your right, down that hallway,” she responded, pointing in the direction of my doom. “Here. I’ll come with you,” she said as she grasped my hand to guide me.

            “No. It’s okay. I’m okay. I need to do this by myself,” I assured her, pleading for understanding.

            Her face was accepting but she continued to walk by my side the entire way. “I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”

            I was careful to ignore the mirror when I entered. I needed to psych myself up for the image that would stare back at me. I cautiously sat down and felt immediate relief in emptying my bladder. A wave of nausea hit me as I stood and turned to flush, but I was able to choke it back by taking a few deep breaths. Approaching the vanity, I straightened my spine and stood tall, all except for my head, which was still hanging low. My hands tightly gripped the edge of the granite countertop, as if letting it go would allow my body to sink underneath the deep, dark water and drown, slipping into an abyss of despair. I couldn’t bring my head up. I couldn’t bring myself to raise my eyes to the image in front of me.

            If I saw it, it would make it real. Once I saw myself, I wouldn’t be able to take it back. I wouldn’t be able to un-see it.

            Everything would become actual and certain.

            I felt battered. I felt bruised. I felt beaten and broken and pained. But when I finally allowed myself to look up at my reflection, the wound I felt in my heart was so overwhelming that I collapsed. I fell into the darkness because the light was just too bright. Too much. Too real.

Chapter Two

DREW

            “Bree, it’s me. Again. Please call me. Text me. Anything. Please let me know you’re okay. I need to know you’re okay.”

            In the last few hours, I think I called her no less than twenty times, way more if you count my text messages. I couldn’t believe that I did that to her. And in my sleep. Another fucking nightmare. I knew they were bad, but I had no idea that I needed to protect her from myself.

            I didn’t even remember.

            She walked out of my house and I tried to remember. My brain recalled nothing. A completely blank nothing. I sat there for minutes longer than I should have and when I went outside, she was already gone.

            I could have killed her.

            I think I almost did. She wouldn’t let me help her. She wouldn’t even talk to me. I don’t know how I could’ve expected her to in that moment but I was now sitting there, horrified that I’d hurt her badly and I didn’t have the slightest clue what to do or who to call.

            There was blood all over the sheets, the pillows, the floor, the wall. Her blood. Her blood that I spilled. Would she have gone home like that? Did she go home like that? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Pat was going to kill me. Liam was going to kill me. I wanted to kill me. I had done the unspeakable to the woman I love. I reached for my phone again without care for the potential consequences. I had to know that she was okay.

            “Hello?”

            “Liam! Thank God it’s you.” I exhaled in relief.

            “Hey, Drew. What’s up?”

            “Uh, is Bree there, by chance?”

            “No, Sue called a couple hours ago and said she was with her. Are you feeling better? She said you didn’t feel well so Bree’s hanging out with Sue today instead so she doesn’t catch your germs.”

            This was just too much. I sat there for a few seconds in disbelief. After all that just happened, she was obviously trying to protect me. Or Sue was.

            “Drew? You okay?” he finally chimed in, interrupting the silence.

            “Yeah, I’m okay. Listen, can you give me Sue’s number? I can’t seem to find it and I can’t get ahold of Bree.”

            “Sure.”

            After giving me her number, he asked if he would see me later at the gym. There was no way I could show my face anywhere near the gym today. Not after what happened. I had to find her.

            “I think I’m going to stay home and rest today. Thanks for your help, man.”

            “No problem. Hope you feel better.”

            So Bree never went home. Or if she did, no one saw her. She called Sue. I had to call her.

            The phone rang four times before she answered.

            “Listen here, you sick fuck. I don’t know what’s going on, but you better not let me see this number come across my phone again any time soon!” She was seething, her words coming out curt and precise, every single letter annunciated so there was no mistaking what she was trying to convey.

            “Sue, please. I need to know if she’s okay,” I begged.

            “I don’t give a
fuck
what you need.
I
need to not be looking at my best friend right now, out of it and beaten to all shit by the man that’s supposed to love her and protect her.
I
need to not get calls in the middle of the night from my friend crying on the side of the road because she can’t see straight enough or stay conscious for long enough to drive herself home.
I
need to know what the hell happened and why the hell she’s insisting that I not take her to a hospital when that’s clearly what she needs.”

            “Jesus, Sue. Take her to the hospital. If she needs to go, please take her. She wouldn’t let me take her. I tried. It was a nightmare. I was having a nightmare.”

            “Listen, you abusive meathead bag of shit! I’m not interested in hearing any of this from you. She’ll be okay. And for whatever reason, she doesn’t want to go to the hospital because she doesn’t want you to get in trouble.
I
think you should be getting strip searched in jail right now, but I’m respecting her wishes.” She paused, taking a deep, audible breath. “I’ve talked to Liam and Pat already. They know she's with me but they don’t know she’s hurt. I’ll figure something out with her family. As for talking to her, you lost that privilege. She’ll talk to you when she’s ready. Don’t call me again. I’m serious. It’s taking everything in me to respect what she wants and to do what she’s asking of me. Don’t piss me off.”