Irrevocable: A Sins of Ashville Abduction Dark Romance (Irrevocable Duet Book 1)

by Skye Callahan

  He chuckled and I could almost feel the sound run through my body, like a hot soothing bath, relaxing every muscle.

  It was probably mostly the pain meds, though. I wondered if eventually I’d be able to see sound waves. And then I realized I was totally fucked out of my mind.

  I watched Kirk for a while longer. He sat on the edge of the bed, silently holding my hand, and sometimes rubbing the backs of my fingers and up my arm.

  I drifted out and woke up in a panic, gasping for breath after a nightmare I couldn’t remember, but the confusion was quickly drowned out the shooting pain in my arm that followed. Two sets of hands tried to push me back to bed and I screamed.

  Suddenly, the room was alive as two nurses rushed in to join the fray.

  I’m fine.

  Get away.

  My brain was shooting off messages so fast, it didn’t seem like they were making it to the rest of my body.

  I felt sluggish and tired.

  “Stop touching me,” I finally yelled, and everyone backed off long enough for my brain and body to fall back into sync. “It was a dream. I think. I’m fine.”

  “You’re bleeding,” Trent said.

  One of the nurses pushed him out of the way. “You probably pulled a stitch with all of that—”

  James grunted and the nurse’s mouth snapped shut.

  “You come in handy,” I muttered.

  “I need to have a look under the bandage,” the nurse said.

  Trent stepped back and the nurse leaned over my bed, glancing up at James as if making sure he wouldn’t attack as soon as she pulled down my gown. “You were lucky,” she said. I was tired of being in fucked up situations and having people tell me that, but I closed my eyes and let her continue. “The bullet went straight through. There was a lot of bleeding, but they just had to clean the wound and stitch you up. You’ll have to give it plenty of time to heal. Without any complications, you could go home tomorrow.”

  I had the feeling she wanted rid of me, and I wondered what the hell I had done to piss her off. I squeezed James’ hand, closing my eyes as the bandage was peeled away from my skin.

  “I think you got lucky,” she said, tossing the bandage away and laying out the materials to apply a new one. “It doesn’t look like you ripped anything too badly, but you’ll need to stay still. I’ll get you some more pain medicine.”

  “Can I get something else?”

  “It’s the strongest thing the doctor approved.”

  “Then, I’ll take the third or fourth strongest. I don’t like feeling so foggy when I’m awake.” It was too much like being back there. Reliving what Gabe had put me through.

  “I’ll see what the doctor says.” She taped my shoulder back up, then pressed a button on the IV machine and walked out.

  “What’s with her getting all flippy because I want something weaker?”

  “She seems flippy in general,” Trent said. He eyed me for a moment then looked at James. “We’re keeping a couple of people on you until we catch her—”

  “I heard, but if she wanted me dead I would be.” I turned to James. “She asked about you. Seemed to think you were dead, but I—”

  “It’s okay,” he whispered.

  “They watching you, too?”

  “Currently, by default.”

  He smiled, but I failed to see any humor in it.

  “Alley didn’t deserve to be put back out on the streets. Why didn’t someone make sure she—”

  “She refused everything,” Trent explained, “Didn’t want ‘blood money’. The detectives even found her family, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with them.”

  I grimaced, the pain was fading, but the confusion settled in again. That damn nurse had pushed through another round of morphine. I blinked, trying to hang on to whatever conversation we were having. “She said her family was gone.”

  Trent must’ve noticed my condition because he turned and checked the IV machine she’d messed with. “I think it was more like she was afraid to face them after everything.”

  That sounded too familiar. Not that I hadn’t been trying to avoid my family before the abduction, but I had become particularly expert at it since coming back.

  “I’m going to grab a doctor,” Trent said.

  “Silver….” James began as soon as Trent was gone.

  “You’re going to have to break that habit. Kirk and Silver are gone—”

  “They have been for a long time, Sugar.”

  Hearing that word roll from his lips tickled my nerve endings, a mix of pleasure and pain. Just like every moment with him. My eyes burned and I squeezed them shut. “You—you’re the one that requested this stupid protective detail, aren’t you? Does that mean you’re planning on leaving me alone?”

  “She found you and came into your house to attack you, but it was Trent who ordered it.”

  “You avoided the second question.” The swell of emotions cut off my air. “Maybe the doctors were right. You’re the only person I feel connected to. I held on to that for the last four weeks. I couldn’t move on, but even with you here. I—” I wanted to erase my life as Silver. That’s why I had tried so hard to keep the two identities separate, but now, there was no way to reconcile that with my feelings for James. “I don’t think I can do this either.”

  James stood over me in silence. I couldn’t look at him, I’d end up looking in his eyes and that was something I simply couldn’t handle.

  “This time I get to make the call. James and Rose don’t even know each other.”

  I struggled to inhale as he nodded and stepped back just as Trent came back in the room.

  “Make sure she’s safe,” James said as he passed.

  I dropped my head to the pillow and waited for pain medicine to grant me oblivion.

  After a fitful night of sleep, I stared out the open window of my hospital room.

  “Do you need a ride?” Trent asked, disturbing my peace. He dropped a pair of scrubs on the end of the bed. “Doctor said he’d send in your release papers soon.”

  “Glad they tell you all of my business.” I wondered how many pairs of scrubs I’d end up owing the hospital by the end of all of this. Better yet, I wanted to know if there was an end.

  Trent rubbed his hand through his hair. He wasn’t leaving whether I said yes or no.

  I took a deep breath and rolled to face him.

  “You saved his life,” he said, “and he’s going to kill me for saying anything to you.”

  “I just returned the favor.” I didn’t want to think about Kirk lying on the floor bleeding in the Outlook, or the splatter of blood that coated the wall when I shot Gabe. Whatever I’d done to save him was paid off, since I was also alive.

  “I don’t mean when he was shot, or….” His voice trailed off and I assumed he knew all of the details. “I mean. He was losing it in there. You—gave him something to fight for again.”

  “What are you trying to do?” My chest burned. This was exactly what I didn’t need.

  “I know you’re not ready, and I know that everyone keeps telling you both to move on separately, but you found something in each other that gave you the ability to fight through things that would have broken most people. And, seeing you both without that….” He shook his head. “I don’t think they were right in keeping you two apart. If you’re mad at James because—“

  “It just hurts.” I licked my lips, trying to put the pain into words. “I’m not Silver anymore and he’s not Kirk. If not for any of that we wouldn’t have met and… how do I let go while hanging on?”

  Trent shook his head. “I don’t know, but I think you two make each other stronger.”

  I looked out the window again. I was tired of being an emotional wreck.

  “I’ll step out so you can get dressed. Want me to send in a nurse to help?”

  After yesterday, I wanted nothing to do with the nurses, so I shook my head. I could figure out how to dress myself. Luckily, they somehow seemed to
find a top that buttoned up, so I slid it over my injured arm first and then fiddled with the buttons until I was covered. That just left me to pull the pants on without twisting my right arm, or extending it.

  It was going to be a miracle if I didn’t starve to death by the time my arm healed. I wasn’t even sure I could take a shower, and I really didn’t want to know how I was going to manage to change into most of my shirts since I didn’t have a single button up shirt.

  Learning To Heal

  I was thankful that Trent had a cleaning crew come in, but there was still a partial blood stain down the wall when I got home. At least painting would give me something productive to do. I curled up on the couch, and Trapper decided to take up residence on my feet as I dozed through the afternoon and early evening.

  I finally roused myself enough to think about ordering food, but I didn’t have the energy to get off the couch and make the call. As I laid there debating, the doorbell rang.

  “Trapper, when will you learn to answer the door?” I said. She jumped off my feet and bounded into the kitchen. Freeloader.

  I wasn’t surprised to peek through the window and see Trent, but his usually stern demeanor was hunched, and his face was somber. I jerked open the door, hoping that it didn’t have something to do with James.

  “Can I come in?”

  I couldn’t swallow. “James?”

  “He’s fine, I just talked to him.” He waved his hand, silently asking for permission to enter.

  I stepped back, my feet moving like iron posts trapped against a magnetic floor. Barely able to hold myself up, I leaned against the door as I closed it.

  “Maybe we should sit down and talk,” he said, running a hand through his hair. He stepped toward the living room, but I didn’t follow.

  My thoughts still swirled around James. If he’s fine, what else could have possibly happened that could warrant this reaction? Was the rest of Milo’s group coming for us? Had Alley told them where to find us? Every time Trent paused—even if only for a few seconds—it gave my mind long enough to speed through a dozen scenarios I didn’t want to consider. “Just say it.”

  Trent lowered his head but kept eye contact. “We found Alley.”

  My heart jumped. “Can I see her?” She’d just shot me, but there was something off about her. I wanted to help her. I needed to know she was okay.

  He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

  “What happened?” I grabbed for the doorknob as everything spun.

  Capturing my arm, Trent steadied me and helped me to the living room where I could sit down.

  “She overdosed on heroin. They couldn’t—”

  “Don’t,” I yelled. I felt like it was partially my fault. I should have checked on her, made sure everything was okay, but I was wrapped up in my own damn misery.

  “Rose,” he knelt in front of me, but I pushed him away and climbed over him.

  I covered my mouth with my hand, pacing back and forth in the middle of the living room.

  “She refused anyone’s help, Rose. We tried. You can’t blame yourself; you don’t know that she would have reacted any differently to you three weeks ago.”

  “You don’t know that.” I wanted to rip out my hair. Fall to the floor. Scream and cry. It was like getting shot all over again. My body shut down and refused to do anything to help deflect the emotions coursing through me. “Please leave.”

  “You shouldn’t be alone right now.” Trent reached for me and I backed away again.

  “I want to be alone right now,” I yelled, “and I’m fucking tired of people still telling me what to do. I’m not a slave; I can take care of myself.”

  I pushed him to the front door, but before I could open it, he dug in his heels.

  “I’ll leave you alone,” he said, and then he pulled out a piece of paper. “It’s James’ number. If you change your mind, I want you to have it, and if not, he won’t know that I gave it to you.”

  I took it and threw it on the table next to the stairs. He nodded and walked out without another argument. I watched through the window as he went back to his car, but it didn’t move. The rat bastard was going to sit out there until he was satisfied. I turned my back and slid down the wall, sitting there and staring into space until Trapper ran up and pawed at my arm.

  After pouring the cat a bowl of tuna, I sat down with my phone, dialing a number I knew by heart, but hadn’t used in months.

  “What the hell, Twig?” Chey said as soon as she answered the phone.

  “Don’t call me that. I hated it when we were kids, I hate it now.” My parents had started the trend; it had nothing to do with my size. It all started when I was four and decided to try and cut my own hair. I don’t know what they were thinking, but the damn name stuck, and since Chey was only two years older than me, it ended up getting around to most of my friends and half the school.

  I heard her sigh. “You okay? We’re worried about you.”

  I groaned, “I’m fantastic.” I took a couple of long breaths before I could continue. “I got shot.”

  “Shot?” Something thumped in the background. “After—”

  “I’m good,” I said before she could freak out anymore. “I’m home, safe, a cop is watching the house, but they found the person who did it.”

  “Then, why is the cop still there?”

  Ah, fuck. There was no good way to answer that question that wouldn’t cause even more worry. Because I have difficulty dealing with life in the real world. Even a simple, “Because he’s worried,” wasn’t going to go over well. I stared at the ceiling, unable to formulate an answer.

  “Rose?” Chey began softly, “You should come home for a while. You can stay here.”

  I swallowed a laugh, “I’m not good company. How’s the baby?” I wanted to talk about anything else.

  “She wants to meet you.”

  I wasn’t falling for that. Even the baby wasn’t going to make me anymore sociable. “She’s seven weeks old; she just wants food and a clean diaper.”

  “If it was all that simple, I’d sleep a lot more.” There was a pause, and I heard muffled voices and pops. “Peter’s here. He’s worried about you, too.”

  Perfect. I was considering going to town and having a few dozen cards printed up that said stop fucking worrying about me.

  I felt even the smallest laugh in my shoulder, but slowly, as we talked everything unraveled inside of me. “What’d we fight about again?”

  “Oh, same old, same old. I’m sorry Rose, just come home for a while.”

  “I’m sorry, too, but I need to do this. I’m not always the greatest at communication and people shit, and I’m going to try, but I’m not ready to be around people all the time.” My family knew enough to understand why I hadn’t been the same, but that was all I was ready to give up. I needed space. I needed to not have to explain myself and the crazy dreams.

  “You have someone to talk to?”

  “Yeah, they throw me in with a shrink twice a week. And there’s….” James. The only person who’d really come close to not needing an explanation. “The cop who’s watching the house has been checking in on me.”

  “Because,” she dragged the word out, “he’s afraid someone else will come after you or that you’ll do something?”

  Suddenly, the conversation about our fight seemed like a better alternative. “So, you and Peter are engaged?”

  “Rose. Which is it?”

  “I don’t think he believes I’ll call and ask for help if I need it. Nothing to worry about.”

  “That’s quite an obligation from just some cop.”

  I should have never let that tidbit slip out. “I’m not ready to go into this, Chey. Give me the ‘you and Peter’ gossip. Give me gossip about Mom and Dad, Uncle Ben, anything, just give me something normal.”

  “We are engaged and also seeing a counselor, once a week. Apparently, I’m not so great with communicating either, but we’re doing better. I’m sorry I dragged
you into the middle of all of that and then abandoned you.”

  “And I’m sorry that I get bull-headed and don’t want to listen. Let’s just put it behind us. It’s about damn time, right?”

  Chey changed the subject to crazy stories from our childhood, like the time she’d tried going down the slide on a board, and it caught her pants and ripped them off.

  By the time we were done with our hour long conversation, I was too sleepy to even consider dinner, but at least I didn’t feel like I was going out of my mind.

  I gasped, clawing at the comforter on the bed, tears still rolling down my cheeks. Or maybe they were new tears; it was becoming too hard to tell.

  Rolling over, I glanced at the clock, it was three am. I couldn’t breathe. My body shook. And the more my mind went over everything, the worse it got. I grabbed my phone and the crumpled up note that I’d tucked in the drawer, dialing the number before the numbness wore off too much and I talked myself out of it.

  “Hello,” a barely-there voice answered.

  I sobbed at the sound of his voice, unable to even utter a single word.

  “Hello?” he repeated, stronger this time. “Are you okay?”

  I sucked in a breath. “No.”

  There was silence, and I hoped he hadn’t hung up for some reason.

  “Rose?”

  “I’m sorry,” I cried.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Talk…. Say anything… Just… She’s dead.” I collapsed against the pillow as another fit of sobs tore at the hole in my arm.

  “I know,” he whispered. “Take a breath, Rose.”

  I wanted to ask him to come over. Come hold me. Make the fear and sadness go away. “I’m sorry for what I said to you.”

  “I get it. You needed to speak your mind. I’m glad you did and I’m glad you called.”

  I bit my lip. I had no idea what else to say. Waves of emotions crashed in my chest, but I had no words that would make sense.

  “Are you okay?” James asked after a long silence.

  “No.” Okay didn’t seem to even exist. I felt guilty for not reaching out to Alley. She’d been my friend. She’d played a part in making a horrible situation not so bad, and I never thought to do the same for her. The investigators and doctors told me to stay clear of everyone involved, but she needed someone and it should have been me.