Beast: Savages and Saints

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Beast: Savages and Saints Page 10

by Seabrook, C. M.


  There are gasps above us, and when I glance up, my family is standing on the ledge above us. But it’s London’s eyes I lock onto. Horror fills them and I know she heard everything.

  “London. Fuck...”

  Her brows are drawn down, but she just shakes her head like she can’t process what I did. Then she turns, and from where I stand at the bottom of the cliff I can’t see where she runs off to.

  It doesn’t matter.

  I know without any doubt that I’ve lost her.

  “Shit,” Damon mutters.”

  “You wanted to prove yourself, right? You did it. I’m a fuck-up. Thanks for the reminder.”

  “Abbott.” He tries to stop me when I start to walk away.

  Fury burns like demon fire in the pit of my soul. The beast inside of me unleashed.

  London is gone. And I know she’ll never forgive me for what she just heard.

  And I strike out at the closest person to me.

  Damon may have started this fight, but I’ll be the one ending it. I spin toward him, and when my fist makes contact with my brother’s face, I have one intention, to numb myself to the pain inside me.

  There are screams above us, and I hear Quinn and Lorelei scream.

  But just like me, Damon is ready for the fight. He gets in a good shot to my ribs, and I know that combined with the tumble down the hill, I’m going to be black and blue tonight.

  I don’t care.

  “Abbott, stop,” London cries out.

  Her voice makes me pause, long enough for Damon to knock the wind out of me with a punch to the gut.

  I crumple over, but I don’t feel the pain, I’m just scanning above for London. I don’t see her until it’s too late. She’s on the far side of the cliff, trying to get down the steep path that leads to the rocky beach Damon and I are on.

  The path hasn’t been used in years because the wood railing is rotting. But London doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know that there’s a safer walkway on the other side of the cliff. But I can see the determination in her eyes to get to me.

  “London, wait—”

  She pauses, but then she takes another step. Her foot catches on something and she reaches for the railing. I hear the crack before I see the wood give out under her weight. And then she’s falling, and everyone is screaming.

  Including me.

  Chapter 16

  London

  Fear is the first thing I feel as I start to fall, then the pain of the impact. I try to protect my stomach, curling into myself, taking the force of the fall on my right side. A cry sticks in my throat, but my breath is gone, and all I can do is lie there, terror wrapping around me.

  I needed to get to Abbott. When Damon shouted those words, blaming him for the fire, there wasn’t one second that I thought it was the truth. I was there when the firefighters spoke to my mom, when the inspector came to our house and explained that there had been a gas leak and that we were lucky more people weren’t in the building when it had exploded.

  I know the truth.

  But all these years Abbott has believed a lie, for some reason blaming himself.

  “London.” Abbott is hovering over me, fear in his eyes. “Fuck. Call an ambulance,” he screams.

  “The baby,” I whimper.

  “I know.” His hands are on my face, searching. “She’ll be all right. You both will.”

  But when he says it a pain racks through my body, and I cry out.

  “Keep her steady,” Damon says, now on the other side of me.

  “Get the fuck away from her,” Abbott screams.

  “I’m trained in this. Let me help her.” Damon’s voice is low, steady, no longer carrying the anger it had moments before. He looks down at me and starts assessing my injuries.

  He asks me questions while testing my reflexes. “I don’t think you have any neck or back injuries, but I don’t want to move you.”

  “The paramedics aren’t going to be able to get down that cliff with a fucking stretcher.” Abbott is holding my hand, but he’s yelling at his brother.

  Damon ignores him and says to me, “How many weeks are you?”

  “Thirty-three.” I cry out in pain as my stomach contracts. “It’s too early. Oh, god, I think my water broke.”

  Abbott curses, but his arms are around me. “I need to get her to the house while we wait for the ambulance. You know how fucking slow the paramedics are getting out here. And she’s not delivering the baby on the goddamn beach.”

  “I can’t have her yet.” I curl my fingers into Abbott’s shirt and cling to him.

  “You might not have a choice, sweetheart.”

  I whimper as he shifts me into his arms. “Abbott.”

  “I’m not letting you go, and I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says, but I know they’re promises he can’t keep. No one can control what happens now.

  Chapter 17

  Abbott

  My fists are curled at my sides as I pace the hall in front of the delivery room. I know I’m not allowed here, but I’ll fight every doctor and nurse in the damn hospital if they try to make me leave.

  I should be in there. And when I hear London cry out, a sound that slices right through my soul, instead of barging through the door, I slam my fist into the concrete wall.

  Fuck.

  Knuckles bloody and bruised, I massage them and lean against the wall, slowly sliding down until I’m crouching, my head in my hands.

  London’s cries bring back all sorts of demons, all the goddamn times I wasn’t able to protect her. Shit, what if something goes wrong in there, and I’m not with her? What if she loses the baby? What if...what if I lose her?

  Damon said that the chance of the baby surviving at thirty-three weeks is good, but I saw the look on the paramedic’s face when he was searching for a heartbeat.

  I need to hit something, anything, but the wall has already done enough damage to my fist.

  I’m not sure what to do. I feel so fucking helpless. One of the nurses that comes out of the room I recognize as London’s friend. I think her name is Monica. She gives me a hard look, and I don’t blame her for whatever shitty opinion of me she’s concocted in her head.

  I’m a screw-up. There’s not a single person who wouldn’t agree with that statement. But God, I wish I could be better - for London.

  “What’s happening?” I ask, scrambling up.

  Her mouth is a thin line, eyes full of disapproval. “You can’t be here.”

  “Just tell me how she is. Please.”

  “They’re taking her into surgery for an emergency C-section. That’s all I can tell you.”

  “I need to be in there with her.”

  “No. You need to go to the waiting room—”

  “I’m not leaving her,” I yell.

  “If you don’t calm down, I’m going to call security.”

  I clamp my mouth over the words I want to say to her, and try to calm down, but it’s impossible.

  Just then, the delivery room door opens, and London is being wheeled out. Her face is pale, and her eyes are wide and filled with fear when she sees me.

  “Abbott,” she cries out, reaching her hand toward me.

  I take it, and lean closer, kissing her knuckles. There’s an IV in her other hand, and her hair has been tucked under a flimsy cap. She looks so fucking small and fragile. “I’m here.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “I know.” So am I. I’ve never been more terrified in my life.

  “We have to go,” one of the men who’s pushing the gurney says.

  It takes the last ounce of my strength to release her hand, but before I do, I kiss her softly and tell her the one thing I should have said a long time ago. The thing I want to tell her every day of the rest of our lives. “I love you.”

  “I know.” She touches my cheek and wipes away the tear that I didn’t know had fallen. “I love you too.”

  Then they’re pushing her down the hall, and she disappears through
automatic doors.

  “Go to the waiting room,” Monica tells me, her eyes softer now. “I promise I’ll come and tell you when I know anything.”

  I nod, numb, not knowing what else to do.

  Kade and Quinn stand when I walk through the waiting room door, and I’m immediately enveloped in a hug from both of them.

  “How is she?” Quinn asks.

  “They took her...” My voice is rough, tortured, and I have to swallow before I can continue. “They took her into surgery.”

  Kade’s hand rests on my shoulder. “She’s going to be okay.”

  “You don’t know that,” I growl out, causing a few heads to turn in my direction.

  That’s when I see Damon, standing in the corner, arms crossed, frowning.

  “What the fuck is he doing here?” I push Kade’s hand away, and start to cross the room, ready to toss my brother out on his ass.

  Quinn steps in front of me, placing a hand on my chest. “Don’t make a scene, Abbott. We’re all here because we’re worried. We’re here for you.”

  “We’re here because of him.” I point at Damon, who looks away, guilt playing on his features.

  “It was an accident,” Kade says, behind me.

  “No,” Damon says, shaking his head. “Abbott’s right. And I’m so goddamn sorry.”

  I stare at my brother, wanting to hate him, needing to blame him, but I know the truth, London’s in the operating room right now because of me. Another fucking mistake I’ll add to my never-ending list of fuck ups. I sit down heavily in one of the chairs and rub my forehead.

  “She’s never going to forgive me,” I mumble. “I’ve taken too much from her. If the baby...” Something cracks in my chest. I’ve been broken before, felt the weight of my sins, but nothing compares to the agony I feel right now.

  Quinn sits beside me and places a hand on my back. “This isn’t your fault, Abbott.”

  I laugh, harshly. “I think Damon said it perfectly. I hurt the people closest to me.”

  “I was pissed at you,” Damon says. “And yeah, in the past you’ve been reckless. But I see the changes you’ve made. And Quinn’s right. This isn’t on you. Whatever happens, it’s not your fault.”

  “I can’t lose her.” I temple my fingers over my mouth and blink back more fucking tears.

  My siblings share worried glances, and I know what they’re thinking, that I’m going to spiral. But even though I could use a shot of something strong right now, I made a promise to London that I wouldn’t touch the stuff again.

  I may not have been able to protect her or keep her safe, but it’s one thing I can do. Stay sober.

  Minutes tick by, but it feels like hours. I stand up, ready to demand an update from someone, anyone, when London’s friend comes through the doors. I’m on her in two long strides.

  “How is she?”

  “She’s stable, resting now. There weren’t any complications.”

  “And the baby?” I ask.

  “They took her to the NICU. She was having difficulty breathing, but that’s not uncommon in babies born this early.”

  “But she’s going to be all right?” Quinn asks the question before I can.

  “The next twenty-four hours are critical, but her vitals are good.”

  “I need to see London,” I tell her. I need to see with my own eyes that she’s all right.

  The nurse nods, and I follow her through the double doors and down the hall until she motions me into a room. London is asleep, an IV still hooked up to her arm, a hospital bracelet around her wrist.

  I sit beside the bed, watching her chest rise and fall with every breath. She’s fine, and so is the baby, they’re both going to be all right.

  But it doesn’t mean that when she wakes up, when she remembers what Damon said, that she won’t demand that I leave.

  Chapter 18

  London

  “Abbott,” I whimper, trying to push my way through the fog of sleep. My body aches, not only from the C-section but also the bruises from my fall. But it’s the pain in my chest, the feeling of loss that scares me the most.

  “I’m right here.” He takes my hand, and he’s hovering over me.

  “My baby?” I can barely get the question out.

  “They took her to NICU, she just needed a little help breathing, but your nurse friend—”

  “Monica.”

  “Yeah, she said she’s doing good.”

  I try to sit up, but pain slices through me. “I need to see her.”

  “You will. But you need to rest.”

  “I can’t. Not until I see her.”

  Abbott’s brows draw down, but he nods. “I’ll find one of the nurses and see if they can get a wheelchair.”

  “Thank you.”

  He hesitates before leaning over and pressing his lips to my forehead, lingering there for a moment.

  Everything that happened on the cliff comes back in a flash. “Abbott. What Damon said—”

  “We don’t have to talk about that right now.”

  “Yes, we do.” I need him to know the truth.

  He swallows hard, and I see a flicker of dread and the guilt that’s always rested so heavily on him. Now I know why. What he’d been carrying all these years.

  “It wasn't your fault. Damon was wrong. You weren’t responsible for the fire, Abbott. I don’t know why you think you were, but—”

  “No.” He shakes his head, face pale. “Damon wasn’t lying.”

  “Abbott—”

  “London, it’s the truth.” His fingers are in his hair and he tugs at it before roughing his palms over his face. “I lit up a cigarette after you left. I tossed it on the floor, thought I put it out, but...shit.” His eyes close and he sucks in a deep breath, then lets it out. “I know I should have told you years ago, but...I’m a fucking coward. You have every reason to hate me. For your dad, Kyle, and now the baby—”

  “Abbott, stop.” I grab his hand, and the movement tugs at my incision, making me hiss in a breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Guilt is replaced by concern.

  “I’m fine. Just listen to me, okay?”

  His jaw bounces, but he nods.

  “You weren’t the reason the fire started.” I put my hand up when he opens his mouth to argue. “I sat down with the fire inspector with my mom. They did a full inspection into the cause, and they were positive that it was caused by the old furnace. My father was cheap, and he’d do anything to save a penny. He was told when he bought the church that he needed to replace the furnace, that it was a hazard. If anyone was to blame, it was him. Whatever guilt you’ve been carrying all these years...” I squeeze his hand. “Abbott, you didn’t cause the fire.”

  His brows are drawn down as he takes in my words, and I know there’s a piece of him that doesn’t want to believe what I told him. The guilt he’s been carrying has become a part of him.

  “You’re certain?” he asks.

  “Yes. And I’m sorry you’ve carried this around with you. I wish you would have told me sooner.”

  “I knew you’d hate me. God, I hated myself...”

  I sigh. “Abbott, even if it had been your cigarette that started the fire, it’s not like you meant to burn the church down. Ever since I met you, all you’ve ever wanted to do is protect me. Protect all the people you care about.”

  “And look what I’ve done trying. Even if I’m not the one who started the fire—”

  “You’re not.”

  “Okay, fine. But that doesn’t change the fact that Kyle is gone because I got him involved with Farkas, or that I put Lorelei at risk. Shit last summer, I almost ran my sister over with a fucking Jet ski because I’d been drinking, and—”

  “Yeah, you’ve messed up...a lot. Is that what you want me to say?” I manage to sit up, but it hurts like crazy. Still, I need him to hear me. “You’ve spent the last ten years trying to destroy yourself because you believed a lie. But you’re not that guy. You’re not your mistakes, Abbott. Yo
u deserve to be happy.”

  He shakes his head. “How can you do that?”

  “What?”

  “See me like that. Like I’m...”

  “Like you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met?” I say, reaching for him. He takes my hand, and I motion for him to sit on the bed beside me. “Because you are.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Yes. You. Are. You were the first person to ever stick up for me. And anytime I’ve ever needed you, you’ve always been there. Yeah, you’ve made some stupid mistakes, but you’ve never hurt anyone on purpose. Your first instinct is to protect, to defend, and not just me, everyone you love.”

  He rests his forehead against mine. “I wish I could be that man.”

  “You are.” I place my palm on his face.

  He takes my hand and kisses it. “I’ll try to be, for you.”

  A smile tugs at my lips. “Thank you.”

  He kisses me softly, then pulls back.

  “Abbott?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I want to see my little girl now.”

  He nods. “I’ll go find that nurse now.”

  I watch as he leaves the room. Everything is still so uncertain, but a peace settles over me. A feeling like everything will be all right. And when Abbott wheels me into the NICU, and I see my daughter for the first time, the feeling only increases.

  “She’s so tiny,” Abbott says.

  And she is. But at four pounds, eleven ounces, she’s a healthy weight for being so early. And the nurse who comes to help me, tells us that she is already breathing better on her own.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” I say when the nurse lifts her from the incubator and puts her in my arms.

  “Gorgeous.” Abbott crouches beside me. “Just like her mom. Have you thought of a name?”

  “Yeah,” I say, smiling down at her. “I’m going to call her Aurora. Rory for short.”

  “Rory.” Abbott smiles. “I like it.”

  “It means dawn, a new beginning, and that’s exactly what she is.” I stroke my daughter’s cheek, my heart swelling with love. “My new beginning.”

 

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