Beautifully Shattered (The Beautifully Series Book 1)

by Kristel, Courtney

  “By anyone you mean Connor?”

  “Of course!”

  “Don’t worry, your dancing fetish is safe with me.” I smack his arm. “You do realize they came out with this thing called Bluetooth Speakers, right?”

  “You do realize that I’m going to have to hurt you if you dis my stereo system, right?” I counter.

  “Touche.”

  Collapsing onto the couch we both lay here for a few minutes and catch our breaths. My abs will ache tomorrow. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard. Without bothering to get plates, we dig into our sandwiches. We eat in silence, enjoying the food too much to talk. After I eat my sandwich and steal the other half of Jax’s, I’m finally full.

  “My lunch was thrown on the floor,” I remind him.

  “By thrown you mean you dropped it, right?”

  “So Logan’s surprise party,” I say in a obvious way to change the subject.

  We decide that we’re going to rent out Logan’s favorite restaurant and have his party the weekend of his birthday on July 12. Connor will take Logan out all day so that Jax and I can make sure everything is set up perfectly since I don’t see the need to hire someone to do something that we are more than capable of doing. Jax, of course, objects but I don’t care. This is my brother’s birthday and I want to do everything. Jax doesn’t have to try too hard to talk me into making Logan’s favorite cake from one of my mom’s recipes for us four and then a bigger one for the party. I’ll use any excuse to bake.

  This year the “after party” will be at Connor’s which is perfect since Connor’s place is closest to the bakery. Every year for anyone’s birthday we always celebrate an “after party” of just the four of us. Of course mine is the only exception to the rule since I refuse to celebrate my mine.

  A knock on the door causes us to look in the direction of the hallway.

  “Are you expecting someone?” he asks with a hint of unease in his voice.

  I shake my head and before I can get up, Jax strides down the hallway. He beats me to the door. I just love how he makes himself at home and feels the need to answer my door. I give him a mock glare that he ignores. He’s squeezing the life out of my poor door. Confused I focus my gaze away from Jax and to the delivery man.

  There are a million and one things that the delivery man could have brought up. The vase in his hands does not fit into the million and one category . . . at all. I gape at the flowers, unable to move, let alone breathe. My head spins. I’m getting lightheaded just standing here.

  Who would be so cruel to send me Stargazer Lilies? I ignore the delivery guy as every memory I try to repress comes crashing down.

  Hadley twirls around in our dance studio while our mom plays the piano . . . Hadley spins in her favorite yellow dress with the biggest smile on her face . . . Hadley’s first recital . . . Everyone in our family giving her Stargazer Lilies . . . Hadley . . .

  Hadley sprawled lifeless on the stretcher while the paramedics try to bring her back . . . Stargazer Lilies engraved on her headstone . . . All because of me.

  Blinking back tears that threaten to spill over, I notice that I’m no longer standing in the doorway but sitting on the couch with a worried Jax crouched in front of me. I can’t believe I just lost it in front of Jax. Again! I must have blacked out because, for the life of me, I can’t remember how I got to the couch.

  Great, now Jax is going to realize how crazy I actually am. Crap, Logan! If Jax called my brother and told him what happened, Logan should be bursting through my door any minute now. So not what I need!

  “Ads, it’s okay. You’re here, you’re fine. Just breathe for me, baby,” Jax says in a calming voice I have only heard from him once. The funeral. The memories start to come back, but I fight them off. I won’t lose it in front of Jax. Not again.

  Watching him closely, I mimic Jax’s breathing because I’m unable to perform the most basic task in the world.

  “Sorry.” I have to clear my dry throat so that I can talk above a pained whisper. “Sorry, Jax, you didn’t need to see that.” Much better. I almost have full strength in my vocal cords again. “I’m fine, I promise. I just wasn’t expecting to see those . . . st-star . . . flowers.” I choke up. I can’t even say the name of the stupid flowers.

  “Shut up,” Jax says calmly but with an edge still to his voice.

  Startled by his outburst, my head snaps up to see Jax steaming.

  Venom drips from my voice. “Excuse me?” I can’t believe he just told me to shut up.

  “You heard me, Ads, I said shut up.” Before I even have a chance to open my mouth, Jax drags me off the couch and pulls me on top of his lap. “I don’t need to hear any explanations. I know why you just completely shut down on me, I get it. So stop. If you open that sexy mouth of yours, it better not be to explain or to apologize, do you understand?”

  I can only nod because I’m shocked that Jax knows why I broke down and gets it. Not that I should be surprised, Jax knows a lot more then he lets on. Right when I start to lean into his embrace, I shove his arms away and stand up.

  “Thanks, Jax, but I need to be alone right now.” I hastily retreat to my room and I hear a faint, “Shit,” from Jax. I slam my door, hoping that he takes the hint and leaves.

  Sinking to the floor, I try to shut it all off. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think that I could change, that I could be me again. That I was dancing around my apartment without a care in the world, as if I hadn’t killed my family. I can’t do this, I need to shut it off. It hurts too much.

  I rise and make my way to my closet until a crippling pain from the guilt brings me to my knees. The memories start flooding back full-force. I can hear Hadley’s laughter as if she’s sitting right next to me. God, I can’t do this. I need to get out of here, away from Jax, away from everything.

  Forcing my legs to cooperate, I open my walk-in closet. After blindly changing into the first work-out clothes my hands touch, I’m out the door. I jump from foot-to-foot as I put my socks on while walking. Not an easy task for someone like me. I snatch up Logan’s Columbia sweater I stole from him and then my Nikes that are still by the front door where I left them. I’m about to leave, but then I remember my phone is still in the living room. Ugh!

  I’m relieved when I find my living room empty. I collect my phone from the coffee table and slide it into my armband. Before I can even leave the living room, Jax blocks my path. Great. I study my bright pink Nikes because I can’t face him right now. Why couldn’t he just leave? Was me telling him I need to be alone not a big enough hint?

  “Where do you think you’re going, Ads? You can’t just go out and run right now in your condition.”

  It would have been better for Jax to slap me across my face. Anything would have been better than saying “my condition” as if I have some contagious disease.

  I’m no longer staring intently at the floor. I’m glaring at Jax. “MY CONDITION? WHAT CONDITION WOULD THAT BE EXACTLY, JAX?” I yell. Taking a deep breath, I try to calm down. I’m anything but calm as I say, “I am going for a run. I can’t be here right now, Jax.” I shove past him towards my escape.

  Jax follows, closing on my heels to the door. This would have been so much easier if he just left.

  Turning around, I whisper, “Please don’t tell Logan.” I leave without another word.

  As I wait for the elevators to escape to Central Park, I try desperately to forget Jax’s expression. I wish that I was strong enough to turn around and reassure him that I’m okay, but I’m not. Instead I step into the elevator, and as the doors close, I feel like I’m making a mistake, but I can’t go back in there. I can’t face Jax right now even though everything in me is telling me that I need to be with him.

  I’m so distracted that I don’t even realize that I’m not alone until I see movement to my left. I ignore the person behind me and concentrate on the emptiness inside of me.

  “Well, this is a pleasant surprise. How are you Adalynn?”
a deep husky voice asks, startling me. I know who that voice belongs to.

  Putting my mask perfectly into place, I swing around toward Kohen. “Hey, I’m doing great!” Too cheerful, I need to take it down a notch or it will be obvious that I’m anything but great. “How are you?” God, I couldn’t be more awkward if I tried.

  The doors open before Kohen has a chance to respond and like the socially inept person that I am, I flee without saying anything else. It’s better for him if he thinks I’m strange, then any interest he has in me will disappear. I don’t need to start anything with Kohen, well anyone for that matter, especially Jax. I deserve to be alone. I like it. I need to continue with the life I made for myself. I learned a long time ago that I can’t trust myself, let alone anyone else. Nobody would want the real me anyways.

  I almost reach the doorman when Kohen comes running up to me. Just keep walking. Ignore him.

  “Want some company while you run? I’m the perfect workout buddy.”

  Why can’t everyone just leave me alone?

  “I actually prefer to run by myself,” I answer in a bored tone. Finishing my bitch act, I pat his shoulder while I patronizingly say, “But, hey, no hard feelings, you can try that line with the next chick you see.” I turn and walk away. “Thanks for the offer,” I toss over my shoulder before leaving the building.

  I head across the street to Central Park with the heaviness of despair coursing through my veins. Later on, when I’m back to myself, I know I’ll feel guilty. I make a mental note to apologize to Kohen the next time I see him, which should be easy considering we live in the same building.

  I slide my phone out of my armband and I click on Marilyn Manson’s Sweet Dreams, before putting it back. As the music blares I wonder what sick fuck sent me those flowers. It couldn’t be any of the guys. They know better than that. So if not them, then who? I turn the music up and I finally get the chance to do what I’ve wanted since the flowers arrived at my place . . . escape.

  Chapter Five

  On my third mile through Central Park I slowly allow the memories to roll in. Whenever I let the memories come back it reminds me of the person I once was, everything that I lost, and why I don’t deserve happiness. This is why I continue to put myself through this unimaginable pain, so that I can never forget, so that I can never be happy. I don’t deserve to be happy.

  There is only one memory that I can never relive . . . the day I lost everything. Whenever that memory comes barreling through, it feels like I’m in the ocean with the waves crashing down on top of me, the surface always out of reach. I pant, on the brink of collapsing into despair.

  I stop running and use all of my energy to push that memory away. I can taste metallic even though I haven’t cut my mouth . . . the memory is that strong. Breathe in . . . out. Bending at the knees, I take slow calming breaths. When the white spots fade from my vision, I run again. The surroundings of Central Park change from pavement to grass; soon it’s as if I’m seeing my old backyard with the swing, and the Olympic-size pool my parents had built for my tenth birthday, to a memory that I’ve repressed for far too long, tugging at my consciousness, reminding me of time I thought was lost . . . a happy time with Hadley.

  “What’s wrong, Hads?” I ask my frowning baby sister.

  With fresh tears in her eyes she mumbles, “I can’t come to your birthday party.”

  “Why not?” I sit down beside Hadley on her bed. I nudge her with my shoulder when she doesn’t answer. “Come on, you can tell me anything.”

  “Promise you won’t laugh?” She hiccups.

  “Promise.”

  She twirls her thumbs. “Everyone is going to make fun of me because I can’t swim.”

  A laugh escapes before I can stop it. “Sorry,” I say when she glares at me. “Nobody would dare laugh at you, Hads.” Even though I know she’s lying, I still tell her to put her suit on.

  “No!”

  God, even at six she’s stubborn. “Come on Hads. We have two hours before anyone gets here. That’s more than enough time.”

  “Enough time for what?” she asks cautiously.

  “For me to teach you how to swim, obviously!”

  She’s jumping off her bed and racing towards her dresser before I can even finish my sentence.

  “You really mean it?” she asks as she starts to put on her bikini.

  “I can’t have my favorite person not at my party.” Her smile is breathtaking. She’s going to be a heartbreaker when she’s older. I actually feel bad for all of the boys.

  “Really?”

  “Of course.”

  Within an hour, Hadley is swimming better than Ariel the mermaid. I know that swimming wasn’t really an issue since I’ve been working with her on her skills all summer. She was worried that I was going to ignore her; all she needed was some one-on-one time with me.

  “Ready for the party?” I ask when it’s obvious that she doesn’t need help at all.

  “Can we swim some more before everyone gets here?” Hadley ask as she paddles away from me.

  “Of course!” Logan yells before jumping off the diving board to join us.

  Dad takes a picture of the three of us in the water. When he sets down his camera, I get a brilliant idea. And by brilliant, I mean hilarious.

  “Dad can you look at my finger? I think I have a splinter.”

  “From swimming? Doubtful,” Logan says. I wink at him and he catches on immediately.

  Logan climbs out of the pool as our dad comes closer to the pool to inspect my finger. Logan circles behind our father. When Dad gets to the edge of the pool, I kick off the wall in perfect timing with Logan.

  “Andy!” our mom shouts from the doorway as Logan pushes our dad in.

  We’re all laughing when our dad surfaces.

  By my fifth mile, I force myself to turn around. Swimming used to be the most important part of my life. At age ten, I knew that I was destined to be a swimmer. There’s some days where the pull to be in the water again is so fierce that I find myself itching to smell the chlorine-filled room, but I’m never able to open the door. I haven’t allowed myself to touch the water, even with my toes, ever since I tried to kill myself five years ago.

  Finally reaching my apartment building, I force all of the memories away. I need to face the mess I left up there and hopefully Jax won’t think I’m a total lunatic. As I press the elevator button, I find myself questioning my sanity and Liv’s. Maybe she’s as crazy as I am for thinking I can move on with my life. I can’t even receive Stargazer Lilies without a meltdown. Maybe with time I can prove her right, or I’ll just prove my new theory of us both being out of our minds.

  I’m surprised to find Jax pacing my living room. The second he notices me, he rushes to me. Right when I’m about to open my mouth to ask him why he’s still here, I realize that I smell . . . bad. Holy B.O. I need a shower, quick, if I’m going to be around him.

  “I need to jump in the shower . . .” I hesitate. I want to ask him to stay, but I don’t have the right to ask.

  “I’ll be here when you get out,” Jax says, reading my mind like always.

  I return his smile before making a quick dash to my bathroom with the single thought of my Midnight Pomegranate body wash from Bath & Body Works. I smell so ripe there could be a rotting corpse in my apartment and you couldn’t tell the difference. Okay, maybe not that bad, but close enough.

  I turn the shower all the way to hot before slipping off my Nikes. It isn’t until my drenched workout clothes are on the bathroom floor that I notice my swollen ankle. Because my mind was absorbed in my memories, I didn’t even realize my ankle was hurting while I was running. It’s not the first time this has happened either and I know it won’t be the last.

  Stepping into the steaming shower I welcome the pain from the scalding water and my throbbing ankle. The water burns my skin, turning it a nice shade of red, to the point that I want to yelp, but I hold it in. Instead I force my muscles to relax, enjoying the pain th
e hot water brings. It’s easier to deal with the physical pain right now than the emotional pain from my memories.

  No, I’m not that girl anymore! Disgusted with myself and my thoughts, I quickly adjust the water to a much more normal temperature. I tilt my head back and let the water stream down my back while rubbing my hands through my long hair. I lather shampoo and right as I start to lean into the water again, there’s a knock on the door. I could bang my head against the wall right now. I pretend that I don’t hear him come into the bathroom and continue to shower like he isn’t here. I’m not ready to face him, let alone talk to him yet. What are the chances that he will just go away? Not big.

  Once the shampoo is washed out, I squeeze conditioner into my hand and massage it into my scalp. The shower is made of glass, I know he can see me even with all the steam. I’m tempted to ask him to make me forget about everything, but instead I remain silent.

  “I got you a cupcake so hurry up or it might be missing by the time you get out.” With that, the bathroom door swings open and he leaves before I can ask him if he knows who sent the flowers.

  I rush through the rest of my shower, not because of the cupcake, but because I know it’s time to face Jax. The cupcake is a bonus, of course. I dress in leggings, a cami, and my favorite rose colored sweater of my mom’s. Lifting the soft material to my nose, I inhale deeply. I can almost smell the fresh floral scent my mom always smelled like. For a split second I pretend that she’s here with me and not in a box six-feet under. I’m happy, then the second is gone and I’m back to reality.

  Jax is back to pacing my living room again. I clear my throat, ready to explain myself, but Jax’s utterly lost expression stops me. He takes two long strides and then suddenly I’m in his arms. He hugs me tightly. I struggle against his hold; I can’t handle the way he always makes me feel like we have more than friendship. It’s not fair that it can never happen. I keep struggling a pointless battle against his iron-like grip.