by KL Donn
“I know,” her eyes flash with anxiety. “I asked. Father got very angry.”
Pulling her into my arms, her sorrow is palpable. “Hush, baby. One day, you’ll get to be the person you’re meant to be.”
“There’s a boy,” she whispers.
My attention perks up, and I finally understand her need to no longer be so sheltered.
“Tell me about him,” I encourage her as we sit in one of the ginormous beanbag chairs.
“He’s older.”
“How much?” I ask, worried someone would take advantage of her naïveté.
“He’s twenty-two,” Sage averts her eyes.
If only she were a year older, it wouldn’t even be a problem. “What do you know about him?”
Her hopeful gaze slowly meets mine again. “He’s nice and sweet, and he owns a mechanics shop with his two older brothers.”
“What else?” I want her to open up to me. If there’s a problem with this guy in the future, I want as much information as I can get.
“He doesn’t know I exist.” Her smile is wistful.
“Why do you think that?”
“When Mother took her car in twice this month, he wouldn’t even look at me.”
Ah, I get it now. “Do you think, maybe, he knows you’re too young?”
“Mother was fifteen and Father was thirty when they had Anastasia.” She’s genuinely confused.
I’m fucking shocked. Shit. She has no clue.
“Sage,” I begin, unsure of how best to explain. “Legally, a man over eighteen can’t be with a woman under that same age. If he is interested in you, he may think or even know that you’re not old enough yet. For him, that would be a long time in prison.”
“But…” She ponders my response. Her eyes flicker a thousand thoughts in the span of a few seconds. “Oh, so Mother and Father? They shouldn’t have?”
I refuse to lie to her. “In the eyes of our legal system, no, they shouldn’t have. I don’t know much, or anything really, about your religion, so I can’t speak to how a marriage works, but outside your compound…here in my world? Never.”
“I didn’t know that,” she whispers. Her voice sad.
“You wouldn’t have, baby. Within your community, you have different rules than we do, I understand that. Now, fill me in on this boy.” I’m trying to lift her spirits again.
“His name is Lochlan Hogan, but I’ve heard his brothers call him Loch. He’s quiet, shy, but so sweet. I had hoped to see him smile one time. But then he saw me, scowled, and left.” Her frown has me laughing.
“Oh, he is most certainly interested,” I tell her through my peals of laughter.
“Do you think?”
“I don’t think, Sage, I know. But I need you to promise me something.”
“Of course,” she eagerly vows.
“I need you to not dress like this unless it’s for you. You don’t need to change who you are for a boy, and with your parents’ permission, of course.”
“Okay,” she murmurs but there’s no conviction behind it, so I’m not sure if she’ll keep dressing like this for him to notice her, or if she won’t tell her parents that this is what she wants.
“I also need you to stay away from him. You don’t want him to get in trouble, right? Or you for that matter. You have plenty of time to catch his interest. I just want you to wait until you’re legal.”
Her nodding is a little too vigorous, and I’m afraid she might nod her head right off. I’m also afraid it’s her that is going to be the one in trouble.
Declan
* * *
I shouldn’t have done it. I know that, but I did. I read her file. She was beaten to within nearly an inch of her life. They did nothing! Didn’t help that my stubborn fucking woman wouldn’t rat her assailant out. It happened in the dead of night, though. It shouldn’t have been too difficult to figure out.
I’m sitting outside of Fluvanna Prison at this shitty run-down diner that I’ve heard most inmates go to upon their release, trying like hell not to go over there and cause the biggest shit storm they’ll ever know. Ashley’s old cellmate is my target. There is an insinuation in her file that this other woman might try to go after her once she is released. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.
Being in contact with Tatiyana Lopez’s parole officer, he’s already confirmed that Ana, as she likes to be called, is a troublemaker. This is the third time she’s been to jail, and the third time she’s been appointed to his watch. He’s told me, in no uncertain terms, to “put the fear of God into the bitch”. I have a feeling he doesn’t give a fuck what his parolees do unless they cause problems.
A woman that matches her description walks out of the gates across the street. I shake my head as she gives the guards the finger and yells something I can’t hear at them before another woman drags her away.
I watch as they walk to a car and think I’m going to have to follow them until they do a sharp turn and come towards the diner. “Bingo,” I murmur as the bell signals their entrance. Their loud ruckus disturbs most patrons as they make their way to a booth. As a waitress approaches them and takes their drink order, I toss a few bills on the table, done with the thing on my plate.
As soon as I stand, I can see I’ve caught their attention. Good. Tatiyana and her friend damn near eye fuck me as I walk over to them, and I’m ready to hurl the sludge they call coffee I was served. Approaching their table, I smirk, and what they may think is an opening is only my cheer over my victory at making them complacent.
“Mind if I sit?” I ask Tatiyana, whose eyes have yet to leave me.
“Si, Papi.” She pats the spot closest to her. I want to vomit at her use of calling me papi.
“Just released, huh?” I ask not bothering to waste time. “Looking for a good time?” I intend to pull as much info as I can from her. If that means flirting a bit, I’ll do it.
“You offering?” She smirks.
Not if my life depended on it. I don’t say anything and wait for her or her friend to fill in the silence. It doesn’t take long.
“Going to pay an old friend a visit soon.” The way she says friend, I know she’s talking about my Ash.
“Oh, yeah?” I’ll play along. “You don’t sound too enthused.”
“Malibu Barbie and I have some unfinished business you could say.”
“That so?” I ask. Pulling out my phone, I scroll through to find a picture I’d taken of Ashley while she was sleeping this morning. “This her?” Showing her the picture, I immediately see the change in her demeanor.
“Who the fuck are you?” Her snarl is a joke. Like a new-born kitten.
“I,” I start, “am the man that she belongs to.” Her eyes narrow. “I’m the man who could kill you where you sit for laying a single finger on her nine months ago.” I let that sink in for a moment. “I’m the man that will watch you for any trip-ups. I’m the man of your nightmares.”
Seeing the desired look on her face—cold-blooded fear—I get up. Before walking away, I part one final piece of advice. “Come near her. Look for her. Breathe in the same space as her. Your body will never be found.”
So maybe it was over the top, but it got my point across. I hear her cursing me out as I leave. Putting my shades and helmet on, I climb atop my bike and speed off, hoping to get to the center to pick Ash up before she leaves. I know she’s pulling a double today, and these kids tend to wear her out.
The short ride across town to meet her is filled with more traffic than usual which is nice. Gives me time to think about how to handle this possible threat against her because there’s no way the wannabe gangster will listen to my warning. I’m also wondering how to get Ash the help she needs with her cutting. I’m not fool enough to think that when she starts feeling too much, she will always call me. And if I’m not able to get to her right away? I understand her struggle. To experience emotions so deeply that you feel like there’s no other option but to release the bombardment; it can’t be easy.
“Fuck!” Slamming my palm against the handle of my bike, frustration eats at my nerves. I know I’ve got little in the way of options in getting her the help she needs.
Finally, about a block away from the center, I slow my speed as I begin to round the corner. Lights, squealing tires, horns blaring, a high-pitched scream, all assault my body as I’m t-boned. Flying across the asphalt, I feel my skin ripping from parts of my body. Torrential pain courses through my being as I finally skid to a stop against the curb. Bone-crushing agony overtakes my entire body, and I wonder—What the fuck just happened? As my sight dims, I hear Ashley screaming. I barely feel hands graze my body before pulling away. Unsure fingers graze my temple as she enters my sight, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her beautiful eyes fill with fear and worry. Closing my eyes, I can’t open them again.
Ashley
* * *
My heart lights up as I hear the seductive throttle of his motorcycle. I had such a wonderful day, and I can’t wait to tell him about it. I finally broke my silence and spoke to one of the counselors at the center about what I’ve been doing to myself and how I want to get better.
We spent the last thirty minutes talking about triggers, about mundane things, and about what the best course of treatment for me would be. I felt relief. I felt free. I was on my way to finally being the me I’m meant to be. Just like I told Sage about herself.
Seeing the single light from Declan’s bike just as he rounds the corner, I gape in horror as a car coming from the other direction swerves and hits the back of his motorcycle.
“Declan!” I scream as a trail of blood is left in his wake as he skids to a halt against the curb. Frozen in horror, unable to move, my heart stops, and my feet won’t move. I can’t…
A man stumbles from the car with barely a scratch on him. Rage consumes me, and I head in his direction. Only a few feet from strangling his ass, I hear Declan groan and quickly change directions.
“Declan?” I cry, afraid to touch him. There’s so much blood. A bone in his leg is literally popping through his pants, and I want to vomit, except I know I must be strong. “Call an ambulance!” Hysterical screams can be heard, and it takes me only a second to realize it’s coming from me.
Lightly touching his face, I need to see his eyes. When he looks to me, I see so much emotion swirling in his dark orbs. “Stay with me, Declan,” I whisper, but I don’t think he can hear me.
Sirens ring in the distance, and I fear they’ll be too late. “Becky!” I yell for the counselor who I had been talking with. “Call Landon, tell him Declan’s hurt,” I tell her as she runs over to me. Landon will know what to do. He’ll tell me what to do. Most of all, his name has weight in the city; he’ll make sure Declan gets the very best of care possible.
“Please don’t leave me,” I beg at his ear just as the ambulance and police vehicles come to a screeching halt a few feet away.
“Ma’am, you need to back up.” I can hear the paramedic instructing me.
“I can’t,” I mutter. If I leave his side and something happens, I’ll never survive it.
“It’s her fiancée. She saw it happen,” I hear Becky inform them. When hands grip my biceps, I struggle. “I can’t leave him!”
A cop gets in my face then, blocking my view of Declan as I’m dragged away. “Ma’am, I need you to tell me what happened while they work on him. Can you do that?”
My heart cracks in two as I watch the only person who has cared to know me slip away. “Ma’am?” the police officer asks more forcefully, and I understand I need to do this for him. I have to be strong; I can’t crack yet.
“Yes.” My gaze is riveted to where Declan lays broken and bloody in the middle of the street as I explain how I watched in horror as the other driver was swerving erratically before hitting him.
More screeching tires have me shuddering in fear, seeing it all over again in my mind. “Ash!” I hear Landon yell from half a block away.
Running to my big brother, I launch myself into his arms. “It’s bad, Lan.” My sobbing makes my words almost unrecognizable.
“Calm down, Ash. They’re loading him up now. Let’s go talk to them.” I hate how relaxed he sounds, but I need that at this point.
As soon as we walk over, the paramedic informs us, “He’s lucky he was wearing his helmet. He’s going to need to surgery. You’re the fiancée?” I nod. “You coming with us?” I climb in without answering.
“I’ll meet you there, Ash. I’ll call Mom and Dad, too.” I nod my thanks because my emotions have my throat constricting so tight I can barely swallow.
I quietly watch as the medic does his job, making sure his bandages are tight and vitals are strong. I listen as he calls in Declan’s condition to the hospital, and I want to cry at all the injuries he has.
“Can I hold his hand?” I mumble.
Thankfully, the man hears me. “Go ahead. Try not to move him, though.”
I sit in an ambulance on the day I finally feel like my life could come together, that I could be free of my past only to be praying that the reason, the man who made me feel these things, fights for his life.
My world is falling apart, and I’m helpless to stop it.
When we arrive at the hospital, we’re immediately met with a whole medical team of doctors and nurses. Declan is rushed away from me before I know what’s happening. A nurse leads me to a waiting room on the surgical floor and informs me that someone will be in shortly to update me on his condition.
That was two hours ago.
Two of hours of enough fear to suffocate anyone near me.
Two hours of endless waiting.
Two hours of not knowing what’s happening.
Two hours of being alone.
Maybe this is my punishment. Maybe it wasn’t going to jail after all. I’m to suffer alone.
It’s such a selfish thought. I know it even as I think it. Except, what if it’s true?
Landon said he was calling my parents, and I can’t begin to wonder what is taking them so long. After our talk this morning, I felt like we were finally moving forward, putting the past behind us…So why do I feel abandoned?
Sitting on the couch, I lean my head back, wanting to close my eyes for a moment. To rest my tired brain. Before I know it, my exhaustion sweeps me under.
The creak of the door opening pulls me from my sleep as I jump up to see Landon and my dad entering. They both have grim looks on their faces and fear strikes me hard. “No,” I gasp, shaking my head back and forth emphatically.
“He’s still in surgery,” Landon is quick to reassure. Relief swamps me so intensely I sag back into the chair.
“What time is it?” I ask, running my hands up and down my face.
Looking at his watch, Dad tells me, “Just after midnight.”
“What!” I’ve been here for over four hours? “I need to talk to a nurse or doctor or someone.” I insist.
“A nurse will be here in a few minutes,” Landon says calmly again.
“That’s what they said four hours ago,” I retort snarkily, more than angry that I haven’t been told anything on his condition.
“Does he have family we should be calling?” Dad asks.
“Just Zach.”
“I’ll call him,” Landon says walking away, leaving Dad and me alone. It’s awkward, and it shouldn’t be. I’ve never spent a moment like this in my parents’ company. Well, aside from when my life blew up in everyone’s faces.
“You really like him, huh?” He looks to me expectantly.
“I more than like. I think I could love him.”
Nothing else is said as he pulls me into his arms for the sincerest, most comforting embrace I’ve ever felt from him. I finally feel like a daughter and not a burden.
“Thanks for coming, Dad,” I whisper into his shoulder.
“I’ll always come, Ashley. Always.” He promises, and I believe him. “Your mother wanted to be here, but we thought it best she stays with Cecilia to help keep
her calm. Her morning sickness has been brutal today.”
“Ms. Powers?” A nurse finally comes in, preventing me from answering.
Wiping the tears from my face, I plead, “Yes?”
“Mr. Hart has come out of surgery. We had quite a bit of damage to repair with his leg. All in all, he’s a lucky man.” She smiles.
“When can I see him?”
“He’s in recovery now. Probably in the morning. It’ll be best if you go home for the night.”
“No. I won’t leave him.” Is she crazy? Leave him? Hell to the no.
“Ma’am, he’ll be going to ICU afterwards and visiting hours are over. You won’t be able to see him until the morning.” I know she’s doing her job. Declan’s not her only patient; I get it. Honestly, I do. But the rational part of my brain has fled, and I all I care about is seeing him. Confirming for myself that he’s alive.
“I won’t leave until I see him,” I tell her again.
“Miss– “
Landon cuts her off. “Fuck sakes. Do you have any idea the amount of stress she’s been through? She watched her man get plowed by a vehicle and nearly die. Let her see him, or I’ll go above your head.” I’m in awe. He’s never taken a stand like that for me before.
“It’s against protocol,” she continues to protest.
“Fine. Get me his fucking doctor.”
She scurries out the door to do Landon’s bidding. I shouldn’t be surprised. Most people who are met with Landon’s temper are quick to comply with what he wants. He might be easy-going with Cec, but with everyone else, he’s a hardass. Demanding.
“Thank you, Landon,” I say gratefully, touching his arm, choked by more tears.
Grabbing my shoulders, he comforts me. “No way should you have to suffer all night.” Pulling me to his chest, I cry. I cry for Declan. I cry for me. I cry because I doubted my family.
A throat clearing has Landon pulling away and looking to see a doctor standing in the doorway.