Unjustly Destroyed (Incapable Part Two)

by Marie Skye

  "I'm glad you're here, but I wish you weren't," he whispered in my hair. I pulled back.

  “Are you alright?” I looked him over, and noticed the bandages on his neck and cuts and bruises on parts of his face. He leaned into my touch as I lightly traced over a bruise, and my heart clenched.

  "Was it Carson?"

  "We don't know."

  "How bad is it?"

  He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair before tightening his grip on my shoulders. "I love you, Emmalin." Grayson was cut off by the surgeon entering the room.

  "Family of Tyler Langer?" Molly jumped up, and I stepped forward with Grayson behind me.

  The surgeon cleared his throat. "The way the vehicle was hit caused multiple injuries to Mr. Langer. The most serious being a 'Flail Chest.' This occurs when the rib cage becomes separated and moves inward, making it harder for a person to breathe. Each breath a person tries to take, causes the broken ribs to push further into the lungs, puncturing vital organs."

  I stood there listening to him explain what was wrong. I focused on the clock behind his head. Was it really just after four in the morning? Molly was sniffling. Grayson was kneading my shoulders. I needed him to stop. I just needed the surgeon to say what he needed to say. This is why I hated hospitals. They drag it on. Just say it.

  Say it.

  Say it.

  Say it.

  "Unfortunately his injuries were too great, and all of our attempts were unsuccessful. I'm sorry, but he didn't make it."

  And there it was. Molly let out a shriek. Hawkins caught her before she hit the ground. I just stood there. Staring at the clock. It took him four minutes to explain. Four minutes to tell us that Tyler was dead. Four minutes for me to realize that yes, everything I touch does turn to shit, because Carson was right. As long as he's around, he'll continue to do everything in his power to take everything from me. So who’s next? Grayson was hurt too, but he was fine. For how long, though? Tyler was dead. Did he suffer? Did he die blaming me? He should have. I could only hope.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Grayson

  She didn’t so much as flinch. I wrapped my arms around her. “I’m so sorry, baby.” She stood still, not saying anything. A nurse finally walked in, looking grim.

  “I’m sorry, but I have the personal effects of Mr. Langer’s.” She held up a bag. No one moved. Emmalin finally stepped forward and retrieved the bag out the nurse’s hand. I glanced at Molly who was staring at her feet. She covered a yawn. She was tired. We were all tired.

  "Molly, would you like to stay with us tonight?" She nodded solemnly. I reached for her hand and squeezed tight. Emmalin still had Tyler's things clutched in her grip, her head down. "Emmalin. Are you ready?" She looked up, and for a moment, she looked at me as if seeing me there for the first time. She glanced back, behind her, and stared at the clock on the back wall. She just stood there staring at it, as if she was counting down. She finally gave it a nod, before turning to me and heading for the door.

  The ride home was silent, with the occasional sniff from Molly. Emmalin just stared out the window at the nightlife. At the house, Molly went straight to the guest bedroom to lay down. Emmalin stood in the middle of the living room, facing the fireplace. For the first time, I didn't know what to say. She wasn't saying anything. She hadn't cried. She hadn't screamed. She was just a shell. I stretched my neck, trying to loosen my muscles that were sore from the impact, and stepped up behind her.

  "Emmalin."

  "Cremated," she whispered. "He would've wanted to have been cremated. That was something he talked about before."

  I gently squeezed her shoulders. "Baby, we don't have to do this now. You should get some rest."

  She turned around swiftly. "It has to be now! If not now, then when? When someone else gets killed? Who? You? Because clearly you were on the radar tonight and you were missed, so maybe I should wait until then, and get the two for one special. How do you want to be buried, Grayson? How do you want to be mourned?"

  She stood, hands clenched at her sides. Her eyes watered, but not a single tear fell. This was pure rage Emmalin. But this was also brokenhearted Emmalin, who’d been stabbed in the heart over and over again, and stood there screaming that there was nothing of her left, and her defenses were high. She turned back toward the fire and her shoulders slumped as she took a shaky breath.

  "He didn't have any immediate family. Maybe a distant cousin in California. His family pretty much disowned him after he got sent away. I think he kept in touch with that cousin off and on, but I'm not sure." I watched as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, as she tried to think. "Do you think I should try to reach out to his parents? I mean they should know, right? A parent should know their son died right, even if they tossed him away like trash. Maybe they shouldn't."

  She started to pace the living room. Actually, she was starting to freak me the fuck out because I knew she was well on her way with cracking. I shoved my hands in my pockets, and realized I still had that folded piece of paper from Tyler. I pulled it out and looked at it, before glancing up at her. I couldn't give this to her now. She was going to be on the verge of a breakdown if I didn't step in. I took the sedative out of my back pocket, and placed it in my mouth between my front teeth. It was similar to the sedative I gave her at Tesh, but stronger, and would work almost immediately.

  I approached her slowly and took her by surprise as I grabbed her from behind and turned her around. She tensed at first, but relaxed as I coaxed her mouth open and shoved my tongue in her mouth, forcing the pill down. She hiccupped as she swallowed the pill. She looked at me wide eyed at first, before realizing what I just done.

  She clutched her throat. "What was that?" She took a step back. "What did you do?" She started to sway and reached out her hand to steady herself. Please forgive me. I wrapped my arms around her, and lifted her up. I kissed her eyes, as they started to flutter close. "Please forgive me. I had to. I'm so sorry," I whispered against her. Her eyes shut as she fell asleep. Did I like doing what I just did? Fuck no. Did I hate myself for it? Yes. Would she hate me for it? Yes. But I had to.

  "You can't go around drugging people, Grayson."

  I stood to the side while Dr. Rexton checked Emmalin's vitals. "I know that, but she was flipping out," I said through gritted teeth. "You didn't see her."

  He turned to face me. "And how are you feeling? You have some cuts and bruises."

  I shrugged him off. "I'm fine. I'm more worried about her." I jerked my chin toward her.

  He sighed, and softened his voice. "She'll be fine. She'll be pissed at you. When she awakens, give her my sympathies." I nodded, not taking my eyes off her.

  Yeah. She was going to be pissed. Very fucking pissed. My thoughts were jarred, thanks to a half ass knock on the door. I turned to see Chace walking in, hair disheveled, and day old facial hair.

  "I just heard. Is she okay?"

  I turned and guided him out the room. "Yeah. Well, no. Not really. I gave her a sedative. She's sleeping it off for the time being."

  "Shit, man. How's she doing?"

  I shook my head as I headed to the bar. Yeah it was almost six in the morning, but I didn't care. I needed at least one. "She started off eerily calm, then she started planning his cremation." I eased down, my body starting to feel like I've been in a car crash.

  "You look like shit yourself."

  I smirked. "Thanks. She isn't going to be happy with me when she finally wakes up. Molly is in one of the guest bedrooms." I shifted, realizing I probably was going to need one of the pain pills I was prescribed. Chace eyed me wearily.

  "Why don't you take another room? I'll stay with Emmalin."

  I was too tired to fight with him. He was probably right after all. I didn't like this newfound comradery they had, but I was too tired to argue with him, and didn't have the strength to do any arguing right now. He walked over, helping me out of the chair. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out.

  Chapter Fi
fteen

  Emmalin

  Click

  Click

  Click

  I jumped at the third click and opened my eyes. My head felt so heavy, as if a ton of bricks were on it, and I was so tired.

  "Hey, you're up."

  I gasped at seeing Chace in bed next to me. He was on top of the comforter, lying back casually against the headboard, and I was underneath it. I tried burying myself deeper under the covers, and he smiled. "Oh, we have nothing to hide from each other, Emmalin." His smile quickly faded as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "My humor sucks. I know, I'm sorry." He reached over and handed me a bottle of water. I looked at the bedside clock and was shocked to see it was just past two in the afternoon.

  "Chace, would you excuse us."

  I looked up to see Grayson standing at the door. His hair was slightly damp, and he was freshly shaven, different than when I saw him last. His gaze held mine, and with his presence at the door, even though there was another man in bed next to me, he knew who I belonged to. We both knew. His eyes moved to Chace briefly, and he gave him a brief nod of gratitude as he left and closed the door. It was just the two of us. I wanted to lash out. I wanted to scream and yell how dare he do what he did, but most of all, I wanted him to tell me that everything that happened yesterday was all a dream. That Tyler hadn't died. It was all a mistake. One big mistake. So I'll sit here and wait.

  I'll wait.

  He crossed over and sat next to me, and I shut my eyes. I'll wait.

  He grasped my face in both hands.

  I'll wait.

  "Look at me, baby."

  I squeezed my eyes tighter.

  I'll wait.

  He kissed my lips so gently, at first I didn't think they touched. "Look. At. Me."

  I slowly opened my eyes and stared into those cerulean eyes. The ones I loved. He kissed the top of my forehead and sighed. Then he leaned forward into my ear and whispered. To this day, I can remember every word verbatim. It was the day my heart stopped.

  "Tyler's cremation is in three days. The arrangements have been made. Everything is set. I am so, so sorry for your loss, baby. I really, truly am. Tyler was a great man, and will truly be missed." I tried removing myself from his grasp, but his hold around my waist tightened.

  "You can fight me. You can yell, whatever you need to do, but I'm not letting you go." His voice was calming as he spoke. I felt tears springing in my eyes, threatening to spill over. “I’m here for you. We’re all here for you.”

  "I'm fine," was all I could mutter. "I'm fine, Grayson." I didn't know if I was saying it to believe it for myself, or for him to believe it.

  Make that the last time you lie to me.

  I stopped struggling against him.

  Make that the last time you lie to me.

  “How’s Molly?” I whispered.

  He shifted slightly, but didn’t loosen his grip. “She’s good. Remarkably well. Her parents arrived a few hours ago and took her home. She’ll be back in time for the ceremony.”

  I nodded. I felt drained. Exhausted. Physically and mentally. I wiped away the tears that had managed to fall. People die every day. “I’m tired.” He loosened his grip, and I fell back against the pillow, curling up into a ball. It hadn’t even been a full 24 hours yet. I wanted the day to be over. I needed the day to be over.

  “What can I do?”

  I shut my eyes and took a deep breath before turning to him. I reached up and traced his face. He had a few cuts and bruises marring the right side. “How’s your arm?” I whispered.

  “It’s a little stiff, but I’ll live.” He shut his eyes at the last word. “Shit, Emmalin, I’m sorry.”

  I gave him a small smile. There was a knock at the door, and Isabella stuck her head in.

  “Hi. I have the food that was just delivered.”

  I didn’t want food. I didn’t want anything. I wanted people to leave me alone so I could sleep. Isabella hopped into the bed next to me. She gave me a sad smile, before placing an arm around me.

  “Good, thank you. She needs to eat something.” Grayson pulled out a carton of soup. It smelled delicious, but my stomach turned.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Please. Just half. You’re already pale, I can’t have you getting sick on me. Just eat it, baby. Please.”

  “They make the best chicken soup, Emmalin. They even made it with no carrots. Grayson told them how you hated cooked carrots.” I glared at Isabella as she held out a spoon and smiled. I hated her.

  “I said I wasn’t hungry.”

  Her face fell, and she turned to Grayson. So, I was being a bitch. I really didn’t care.

  “Emmalin.” His voice had hardened. “The sooner you eat, the sooner you can lie back down.”

  I glared back at him, my expression turning icy. “Why? Did you drug it?” He winced as if I had slapped him. I might as well have. I wanted to. I scooted off the bed and went into the master bathroom, locking the door. If they weren’t going to give me my privacy, then at least I could get it in there.

  I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower. I reached for the hot water handle and froze. The old me would’ve turned it on and stayed underneath it until my skin blistered. Until the skin hurt so bad, I couldn’t feel it anymore. I took a step back until my back was against the wall, and I slid down it, until my knees were against my chest.

  I felt myself starting to shake until the first tear finally fell. Then the second. Then so many, I lost count. The pain and hurt finally caught up to me, and sitting in the corner of the shower, that’s where I was able to let it out.

  Hours must’ve passed because I woke up in bed, and Grayson’s body was pressed against mine Even pissed, I still loved him. I didn’t like the fact that he drugged me, but I also understood why he did it. We both knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I turned around so I was facing him. He was watching me, which only brought on a fresh set of tears.

  His hand moved to wipe one away, and I closed my eyes at his touch. Taking a deep breath, I looked into his eyes finally. “I’m sorry. I’m trying. I really am, but right now this is all of me I can give anyone. I can’t give much more right now.”

  He nodded as he pulled me tighter. “We’ll get through this, okay? I’ll help you. We’ll all help you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I refrained from being a bitch to everyone and mostly kept quiet. The day had finally arrived for Tyler’s cremation. I stayed in the room for a majority of the day. People came and went, to check on me, but I just stared out the window. How does one become ready for something like this? Services were at 3 p.m.

  It was just after 1 p.m. now. A lot of people he used to work with were going to be there. Molly made sure of that. People I hadn’t met. She seemed to be doing really well, so that was good. She was adamant about anyone not wearing black. She said Tyler wouldn’t want anyone to wear black, because they were such lifeless colors. She said blue and green, because they would look more ‘exuberant.’ Her words, not mine. What she didn’t know was that Tyler once said he looked like mold if he dressed in too much green. I then realized Molly was as bright as a bleach-soaked tampon, and didn’t know Tyler at all.

  I glanced over at the nightstand, at the Xanax Isabella brought over. My thoughts had officially turned to anger if I was now thinking horrible thoughts about Molly. Sweet, sweet Molly. I grabbed them and shoved them in my purse, just in case.

  There was a light knock at the door and Grayson walked in.

  “It’s time.”

  I took a deep breath. Fine. Let’s get this over with.

  Walking into the church, I stopped immediately, seeing the urn at the head of the altar. Grayson’s hand tightened on mine, urging me on. We took our place at the front. I looked around and saw that in addition to Tyler’s former coworkers, Chace was there. Grayson’s parents were there, as were Molly’s parents. All of that made me sad. Tyler’s parents weren’t there. Grayson’s parents, who didn’t eve
n know Tyler, and didn’t even have a reason to be there, bothered to show up, because Grayson asked them to. They gave me a sad smile, and I nodded in return. It pissed me off that they were here. It pissed me off that they met Tyler probably one time, and they showed up. Tyler’s own flesh and blood, who disowned him years ago, couldn’t even show up to their own son’s funeral. That’s what made me sad.

  We listened as a few people said things about Tyler. Everyone laughed and nodded along. My eyes stayed on the urn. He was in there. What if I was in there instead? What if that had made things easier? What if Tyler had never met me, had just kept walking home every day, and didn’t take pity on the poor girl under the willow tree?

  Grayson nudged me, and I looked up at him. It was my turn. I was last. I walked up to the podium and gazed out to the crowd, each one staring back, and mostly giving me encouraging but grief-stricken smiles. I tried to smile back. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I cleared my throat, and I took out my notes. They were blank. I had scribbled all over them and crossed everything out. I realized I didn’t have a single thing to say, because I couldn’t decide on anything to write, and all I’d done was write and rewrite everything.

  I glanced up at everyone— all eyes were on me— and back down at my useless notes. I then made the mistake of looking over at the urn, and I froze.

  “Um.”

  I felt my hands shaking as I shuffled through the notes.

  “I don’t know what to say that hasn’t already been said. Obviously none of us expected to be here, and none of us want to be here, because Tyler shouldn’t be gone.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “But he is. He was extraordinary. A lot of you don’t know that. But he was. He saved my life, and unfortunately I failed him when I last saw him. That’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life.” I felt my voice crack, and I took a deep breath. “I wish his family was here to know what kind of man he turned out to be. They would’ve been proud, just like I was. They would’ve loved him. Just like I did. Like many here today did. Like we still do.” I cleared my throat. My vision was now getting blurred by tears. Dammit, why couldn’t I write anything down? This was my one job, and I couldn’t even do that right.