by A. J. Briar
Pain radiates from the back of my head, but I keep going; dragging my limp body across to where he lies. Brooke reaches him before I do, but I no longer fear for Nathan’s life. Her features fill with guilt and regret while her knees buckle from underneath her with a loud thud. Brooke’s body slumps over Nathan’s and for the first time I see the devastation in her eyes. Nathan’s orbs flicker open, though I’m not sure he’s aware of the chaos that is unfolding around him. I can only watch as Brooke whimpers an apology and a declaration of her love before pulling the trigger on herself. The gunshot rings out provoking a scream before quietness falls upon us. Nathan’s eyes shutter while Brooke’s body falls. I try to claw my way to him, but my body gives out. The pain in my head is throbbing so much it causes spots on my vision. I cry out Nathan’s name, delirious with need to just hold him in my arms. His name on my lips causes movement from Nathan, the arm that was hanging limp at his side reaches out towards me feeling along the ground. I stretch my own hand out as far as I can. Our fingers meet each other, in only the briefest of touches, before both of our hands go lifeless.
Pain.
Loss.
Darkness.
22
Nathan
Isabella fades from my vision, the warmth of her touch turns icy cold in an instant. My eyes close no matter how hard I fight for them to stay open. The only comfort in the storm of pain I'm feeling is, that I know Isabella isn't truly hurt. She’ll survive; like the warrior she’s always been. Agony exudes from my side, overpowering my thoughts, taking control. Darkness creeps around me cutting off each sense one by one.
The metallic taste of blood - from where I bit a hole in my cheek worrying - drifts away. The sound of my name coming from Isabella’s lips floats into oblivion until I no longer hear her beautiful voice. Then, the sickly scent of Brooke’s perfume – the one that I remember buying her for her birthday – withers away. The loss of Isabella’s touch fills my bones with lead causing me to lose all feeling. My eyes refuse to grant me one last glimpse of Isabella, as my mind finally surrenders me to the void that surrounds me.
23
Isabella
In the distance, I hear my name being shouted, a high-pitched scream which wakes me from the nightmare that is happening in my head. My eyes blink open, and I try to figure out where I am and what is happening. There’s a pounding in my head that teeters on the edge but I ignore the pain, trying to concentrate on the sound of my name. I roll over and the vision of Nathan deathly still on his back, bleeding from his torso, reminds me that I’m living the nightmare. It wasn’t a dream.
A cry breaks free, followed by a scream so feral I scare myself. Once again, I hear my name, closer this time. I shout as loud as I can, knowing that every second that passes, is another second that Nathan loses.
Lights flash, sirens wail and through the haze, I hear Isla’s voice. Her hand strokes my hair, which I’m sure is supposed to be comforting though it’s anything but. I can’t take my eyes off Nathan, who is now surrounded by several people. I’m vaguely aware that someone is trying to ask me something, but my brain can’t contemplate a response.
Isla whispers in my ear that everything will be alright, but I can’t stop the pessimistic thoughts from invading my conscience. Nathan is stretchered away and the tears begin to fall against my cheeks. The sobs that wrack my body become uncontrollable and shake every fiber of my being to the point where the pain spreads everywhere. Isla clutches onto me, trying her best to calm me but her attempts are fruitless. I thrash against her hold, cursing into the night sky. I don’t stop, even though everything hurts.
A sharp scratch against my skin registers and moments later, I feel like I’m floating away. Leaving the chaos of the scene behind and entering the light above me. Serenity washes over me in time with the lap of the waves below and for one selfish second, I’m grateful for a reprieve from the horror around me.
Time stands still or becomes meaningless – I’m not entirely sure considering I feel like I’m awake only I’m asleep. Nightmares haunt me, reminding me of what I’ve lost. Dreams taunts me reminding me of what I could’ve had. After reliving the night’s events over and over again, I try to force my body to do something. As much as I don’t want to face reality, I have to know whether Nathan is okay.
My eyes feel like they’re glued shut, though I manage to pry them open. Harsh fluorescent bulbs hit my corneas, temporarily blinding me. My eyelids flutter open and closed a few times, trying to rid the black spots that form on my vision. Every muscle in my body feels like I’ve climbed Mt Everest, though I’m relieved that the throbbing in my head seems to have subsided.
A drip is attached to one hand, the other is clutched in Isla’s fingers. Her head is slumped on her shoulders, her eyes slightly open as she sleeps. I always did find it strange that when she sometimes sleeps, she sleeps with her eyes open. Wiggling my own fingers gently, I’m grateful that my body seems to be listening to me. Isla feels my touch and jumps awake. She gasps and then leans towards me, pulling me into her embrace. I groan from the sudden movement, which has Isla release me immediately.
“Sorry, B.” She bites her lip and whispers her apology. “How are you feeling? Where does it hurt? Let me call the doctor.” She reaches over me to press the buzzer, that I hadn’t even realized was hanging beside me while I try and formulate an answer. My body aches, but enough about me.
“Nathan.” I manage to croak out, my mouth dry as fuck. Isla knows exactly what I’m asking though and pales. Her eyes flicker to the door before setting back on me. With a sigh, she shakes her head. The room closes in on me before Isla can get a word out. My breaths become labored and I’m fairly sure my heart is splitting in two. Isla’s hands land on my shoulders, the shaking doing little to bring me back from the edge.
“He’s alive.” The two words roll off Isla’s lips, sending waves of relief throughout my body. I blink trying to figure if Isla is lying, considering she’s lied to me in the past. Her eyes shine with unshed tears, but I can see the truth in her expression. I sag into the bed and regain control of my breathing. At that moment, the door opens, and a middle-aged woman enters. She introduces herself as Dr Mary Taylor and asks me what feels like a million questions. Turns out I’ve been out cold for days. My mind and body obviously deciding that I needed a break. By the time she’s finished examining me, all I want to do is see Nathan. I ask her but she doesn’t disclose much. She does, however, give me a green light to see him, but only after she’s sufficiently happy that I’ve recovered from my own injuries. A few cuts and scrapes and a concussion, but the way she’s keeping me on lockdown, you’d think I was on death’s door. The doc leaves but flicks a stern warning my way to take it easy and rest. I nod, though I have no intention of staying here without seeing Nathan.
Isla hovers by the door, still wearing the same dress she had on that night, giving me the perfect opportunity to escape.
“You look like shit.” I gesture to her appearance before sitting up slightly. A small smile plays on her lips.
“You don’t look too hot yourself.” A chuckle breaks free but it’s dry and lackluster.
“Seriously Isla, you’ve been here the entire time, no doubt. Go home. Get a shower. Have a proper sleep.” She looks down at her attire, probably only just realizing that she looks like trash. Her eyes flick to mine and she studies me, narrowing her eyes. I’m pretty sure she’s aware of my motives though she doesn’t call me out on it.
“I won’t be long.” Isla walks over to the bed and leans down to hug me, far less forceful than the last one. She whispers a number in my ear, and then spins on her heels to leave. I know without her having to say what she’s just given me. Just before she leaves, I pipe up.
“I love you Isla. You know that right?” The tears that were in her eyes earlier, cascade in waterfalls down her cheeks as she makes her way back to my bedside.
“I love you too B. I don’t ever want to lose you.” Her words hit home how much I nearly lost.
How much I could still lose. She whispers an apology which I know isn’t the first time I’ve heard her say those words.
“It’s all my fault,” she confesses.
“It’s not your fault. No one could’ve known how psychotic Brooke was. She hadn’t crossed my mind for a long time.”
“I know, but I still should’ve protected you. I shouldn’t have lied to you and I shouldn’t have forced Nathan to lie on my behalf. If we hadn’t have argued, you wouldn’t have been on your own on that pier.” The guilt is evident in her features as she screws her whole face up.
“If we hadn’t have argued, I wouldn’t have remembered Noah pushing me. Brooke is the one to blame in all this. She would’ve found a way to destroy me.” Isla scowls, spitting out the next words.
“I’m glad that bitch is dead, I swear if she wasn’t, I’d kill her myself.” I shiver involuntarily, reliving Brooke shooting herself over Nathans’ body.
“I’m just relieved that she’s gone and it’s all over. I’m not sure how much more drama I can take.” I laugh nervously, knowing that I’m at breaking point. Isla gives my hand a soft squeeze then leaves me with my own thoughts. I give it a few minutes after she’s gone, then haul myself out of bed. My legs protest underneath me, but I don’t care if I have to drag myself to Nathan, I’m seeing him.
I sneak a glance out of the door, and head straight past the nurse’s station which is situated down the hall. It takes me twenty minutes to figure where his room is, and I’m grateful that one of the nurses takes pity on me and gives me directions after seeing me go in circles.
Stealing a huge gulp of air in, I try to steady my erratic heartbeat. I push open the door and stumble inside. He’s a vision of beauty, lying in bed, seemingly sleeping. His hair is mussed up just the way I like it. I take a step closer and trail my gaze over his body. A thin sheet covers his lower half, though his torso is completely bare. A white bandage wraps around his lower abdomen and I hold in a gasp. I risk one more step, and take stock of his face, that beautiful, chiseled face. There’re dark circles under his eyes making them look bruised but apart from that, he is pure perfection.
I trail my fingers along his cheek, relishing the way his skin feels against mine. Before I can stop myself, I gently place a featherlight kiss on his lips hoping like hell, I don’t somehow hurt him. Peace falls upon me, as I fall back into the seat next to his bed. My thoughts take me on a trip down memory lane, all of which involve the blue-eyed god beside me. I tenderly caress his arm, and let my fingers roam up and down while my mind works overtime.
Two minutes.
That’s how long it took for my life to be turned upside down and inside out.
Two hours.
That’s how long it felt like for someone to find us.
Two days.
That’s how long it took me, to realize that without Nathan, I’ll never be the same.
24
Nathan
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I swear to god, if someone doesn’t shut that noise up, I’m going to flip.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I will my eyes to open, but nothing happens.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“I can assure you Karen, your son is in the best possible hands. You are no help to him, running on three hours sleep. If anything changes in his condition, you’ll be the first to know. Go home and get some rest.” I don’t recognize the voice, but my ears perk up when I hear my ma’s response.
“You’re right, Mary. Thank you.” Something squeezes my hand. “Come back to us Nathan.” I try to respond but sleep pulls me under.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Awareness wakes me, prickling against my skin though every inch of my body refuses to respond. A warm touch grazes my face, then trails to my mouth. Even being blind, I know that Isabella is here. Her feather light touch repeatedly rubs up and down my arm, offering comfort through the confusion. I want nothing more than to see her, to feel her, to hear her, yet my body refuses to cooperate, letting me down. The more I try to move, the worse I feel. Surrendering myself to slumber, I pray that when I wake, Isabella will still be here.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“You should be resting.” My mom’s stern voice rouses me. I almost think she’s talking to me but when I feel Isabella’s hand against mine, I know it’s her she’s referring to.
“I’m not leaving him.” Isabella’s voice sounds tired yet stubborn. I imagine the bitch stare she’s giving my ma and my lips turn up slightly. A gasp of surprise fills my ears, swiftly followed by a hard squeeze of my hand.
“Look! He’s smiling.” I can almost taste the excitement that I know is radiating from Isabella, and before I know it, my other hand is engulfed by a soft touch.
“He can hear us. Keep talking Isabella.” Isabella must lean in towards me because moments later, I feel her warm breath against my ear, whispering words that I never thought I’d hear her say again.
The need to see her spurs me on as I try furtively to open my eyes. Honestly, I don’t even know how I manage it but they slowly open, revealing plain beige ceiling tiles.
I blink away the crustiness, that has formed in the corners of my eyes, when I hear Isabella squeal. I’m not gonna lie, the sound is heaven to my ears. It’s even better when I reopen my eyes, that I see Isabella leaning above me. Her face is as close as she can be, without touching me. God damn, she’s beautiful. Like a ray of sunshine on a gloomy day, she lights up.
Love and adoration beam through her unshed tears, her eyes the most vibrant color of teal I’ve ever seen. I open my mouth to speak, but my throat feels like sandpaper and nothing comes out. Isabella’s smile falters and she retreats slightly, looking over her shoulder muttering something under her breath. The action draws attention to the back of her head which has a huge gauze covering it. Fuck, I didn’t think she’d been hurt but that says otherwise.
I put all my energy into lifting my hand and softly stroke my fingers over her neck. She swings her head back in a comic like manner, her eyes widening as she realizes that I’ve managed to regain some control of my body. The wince that accompanies her head swing has me flinching. I hate causing her pain and I’m fairly sure she’s hurt because of me. When I saw Brooke lift the gun and aim at Isabella, I saw red. If I’m honest, I wasn’t entirely sure what my plan was, all I knew was that I needed to protect Isabella, if it was the last thing I did. I try to speak again, but only a croak works its way free.
“Sssshh. Your mum’s gone to check whether you’re able to drink something. She wasn’t sure and didn’t want to risk it.” I nod ever so slightly, thankful that the numbness that was weighing me down is wearing off. Though now I realize that I’m in a hell of a lot of pain, specifically coming from my left side. I glimpse a peek down and Isabella follows my gaze. She sighs but it’s not a ‘fed up’ sigh, it’s more like ‘I have to tell you something and I’m not sure how to’ sigh. I brace myself already guessing shit is bad.
“You were shot. I’m not entirely caught up on the details, but the bullet grazed the side of your body, slicing through the tissue. Your mum knows more than me, as I’ve been out cold for the past few days.” My body tenses and I’m desperate to find out if she’s alright. Fuck whatever happened with me, it’s her that I’m bothered about.
“Are you okay?” I manage to rasp out a few words, despite the roughness in my throat. Isabella’s jaw drops but her entire face brightens at my words.
“I’m okay. Just a sore head. Nothing to panic about. It’s you I’m worried about.” Her voice trails off into a whisper and for the first time, I notice the tension in her body.
Before I can reassure her, the door squeaks open and my mom and another woman enter. My ma takes up residence beside my bed, while Isabella takes a step back looking sheepish. The woman who followed my mom in, eyes Isabella, her orbs narrowing a little.
“Isabella, I thought I advised you to rest.” The condescending tone she uses has me grip the bed sheets to stop myself fro
m losing my cool. I get that Isabella probably should be in bed, but I can also see how fucking worried she was. I know if the roles were reversed, I’d do the exact same.
“I’m sorry but I had to see him. I had to know if he was okay.” Isabella argues, making the anger that was bubbling, subside. The doc is obviously disappointed, but her features soften.
“Just make sure you get back to your own room tonight and stay there. You both need to recover. Now, Mr Hartley.” The doc turns her focus on me.
“How’re you feeling?” My mom hands me a cup of ice chips which I gratefully take. The coolness eases the burn in my throat allowing me to speak without it hurting too much.
“I feel like I’ve been shot.” The joke falls flat as each of the females in the room offer me a different version of a pissed off look. Isabella’s expression hurts me the most as underneath her glare, I see the guilt festering. Before I can backtrack, she speaks again.
“I’m sure you do. Luckily, the bullet didn’t do any major damage to any vital organs. You were extremely fortunate that it skimmed your body and didn’t cause too much harm.” Isabella rolls her eyes and I hold back a retort.
“You will however be extremely sore for a while, especially as your muscle tissue repairs itself. The more you rest, the better your recovery will be.” She throws a pointed look Isabella’s way.
“We’ll keep your pain killers topped up as I’m sure you’re in some discomfort now.” I grimace, knowing that she’s right. There’s a sharp burning sensation running up and down my side and I start to wonder whether I can grin and bear it.
The doc messes with the IV that’s hooked up next to me, then leaves with the promise – or rather threat - of checking on me later. Once she’s safely gone, I let my eyes wander to Isabella. She looks dead on her feet and as much as I want to be selfish and keep her here with me, I can’t do it to her. By the looks of things, she could sleep standing up, not that I’d let her.