by Chloe Walsh
I watched her wipe a tear off her cheek and something cracked inside of me.
Jesus, I wish someone had explained to me the dangers of loving a woman…
"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm sorry. But you can't make this go away for me, Noah. I have to live through the pain. I will have to live through this pain for the rest of my life. And I'm tired. So tired..."
"Then be tired, dammit. It's okay. Break down. Cry. Scream. Grieve. But do not quit on me. Do you hear me? Do not give up on us. God, Thorn, if there was a way I could fix this – If there was a way I could go back in time and pull you out of the way, or better still, get hit by that car myself – then I would," I told her. "I want to change this for you, Teagan. I want to heal you and I don't know how. I don't even know where to start."
"The worst part is that somewhere inside of me, I feel like I had a choice, whether to live or die, and I chose you!" her voice broke. "I chose you."
"That's okay!"
"It's not okay!" she screamed. "Our daughter is dead, Noah. Nothing will ever be okay again."
"I can't." Climbing to my feet, I turned around and walked into our adjoining bedroom and grabbed my cell phone. "I'm calling a doctor."
"What – why?"
"Because you need help, Teagan. And I can't give it to you." I realized I had lost all hope and faith in myself when I found myself dialing Max Jones' phone number.
****
Chapter Twenty-One
Hope
I was pulling up outside the house in South Peak Road when I noticed the unusual Mercedes Benz parked out front. Unfastening my seat belt, I was out of the truck and up the porch steps in record time. I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach when I let myself inside the house. That feeling only intensified when I was greeted by a weary looking Noah standing at the bottom of the staircase, fully clothed and soaked to the skin.
"Noah?" I dropped my keys and purse and ran straight to him. "Are you okay?"
He nodded once, looking through me. "She ah –" His voice broke off and he cleared his throat. "She tried to kill herself." He was shivering violently, jaw clenched. "I called her uncle. He's up there now – checking her over. Said he'd give her something to settle her down."
"Oh my god." Not caring he was soaking wet, I threw my arms around Noah and pulled him into my arms. He wasn’t the easiest person to hug – all hardened muscles and bulk – but I hugged the life out of him, feeling a desperate urge to somehow comfort this poor man after all he had been through.
"Come here," I said. Taking my uncle by the arm, I led him into the kitchen and over to a seat. "Sit down and I'll get you a drink."
Numbly, Noah did as he was told and sat while I went in search of the strongest liquor I could get my hands on. Of course, being a household with at least one Carter in it, the kitchen was stocked with whiskey and I grabbed the bottle and unscrewed the cap.
"You should have seen her," Noah said, unblinking, as he stared down at his shaking hands. "She was almost gone." Clenching and unclenching his fists, he shook his head. "And the look she gave me when I brought her around?" He shook his head. "It was fucking disappointment, Hope." He looked up at me. "My wife was disappointed I saved her."
"That's not Teagan," I assured him as I poured him a large glass of whiskey. Carrying it over to him, I placed the glass in Noah's hand and sighed. "It's the depression." Crouching down beside him, I placed my hand on his knee and smiled sadly. "If you need a break, Noah, it's okay." I wasn’t sure if he was going to bite my head off for this or not, but he had been caring for Teagan twenty-four-seven since she'd been released from hospital and wouldn’t accept any of our help. He'd cooked her meals, bathed her, tended to her stitches, and forced her to eat… He had done absolutely everything for his wife, and I was worried the man was going to collapse from exhaustion if he didn’t rest. "Let us help you." Squeezing his knees, I managed to catch his eye. "I'm here, and so is Lucky." Arguing aside, we were both more than willing to help. "Let us help so you can rest."
"I can't," he choked out, shaking his head. "I wasn’t there when it happened… I can't leave her now."
That was the crux of it.
The weight of the guilt Noah was carrying around was crippling him.
He felt responsible for everything Teagan was going through.
In Noah's mind, the demons of his past had forced their way into his present and taken his unborn child from his wife's body. He hadn't been there to protect her – not that there was anything he could have done – and now he was punishing himself by taking on this weight on his own. Teagan wouldn’t speak to anyone and Noah respected her wishes to the letter.
Any time someone asked to go upstairs to sit with his wife, Noah turned them away.
Neither of them were coping and something drastic was going to have to be done soon.
The sound of the front door closing filled my ears and I turned around just as Lucky walked into the kitchen, armed with a brown sack and wearing leather gloves.
Frowning, my gaze immediately went to Noah who was staring at the brown sack like it was the answer to all his problems.
"You remember that promise you made Teagan?" Lucky said in a heated tone, eyes locked on my uncle.
Noah nodded once and a chill rolled through me.
"Well, I've found a way," Lucky said grimly. With that, he looked at me and said, "You mind?" Cocking a brow, he added, "This is private."
I looked to Noah, but he nodded stiffly. "Give us a minute, Hope. Will you?"
Reluctantly, I walked out of the kitchen and paced the hallway outside. It didn’t take a genius to know that they were up to something. Something bad. Something probably illegal.
Pinning my ear to the kitchen door, I held my breath and listened carefully.
"When?"
"Now. Tonight"
"And if it goes wrong?"
"It won't."
"You're sure he's there."
"Saw him myself."
When I stuck my head around the door, my heart sank in my chest. Noah and Lucky were standing side by side, looking down at a counter full of weapons just the same as if they were looking at teacups. The empty brown sack lay on the floor.
I watched, horrified, as Lucky loaded one of the guns and handed it to Noah before loading the next one and stuffing it in the back of his jeans.
"Stop this!" I cried out in an appalled tone, throwing the door inwards, so hard it smacked against the wall. "Whatever you're thinking of doing? Forget it, because going looking for trouble, after everything that's happened these past few months, is the worst thing any of us could do right now."
When Lucky ignored me, I turned to Noah and implored him – begged him – to back the hell up. "Think about this, Noah." Rushing over to my uncle, I cupped his face with my hand and stared up at him. "If you do this and get caught? What will happen to Teagan?"
Noah flinched and I had the distinct impression that my words had the opposite affect than I'd intended. "She is exactly why I have to do this, Hope," he shot back before stuffing the gun into the back of his pants – same as Lucky.
"So what?" I demanded, looking between both of them. "You're just going to go out and shoot their whole gang?"
When neither one answered, I lost it.
"You're both crazy. This is insane," I hissed, shaking my head in sheer and utter denial. "I'm not going to allow you guys to do this."
"What the hell do you expect us to do, Hope?" Lucky said then, glaring at me with those piercing greyish blue eyes of his. "Nothing?"
"Yes!" Nodding my head, I rushed over to him and grabbed his shoulder. "Do nothing." My hands were shaking as I clung to his broad shoulders, desperate to get through to him. "Please, Hunter," I begged, using his real name. "If you have learned anything from prison then please do not do this."
"Let me tell you what I've learned from prison," Lucky snarled, his voice laced with disgust. He swallowed deeply, his Adams apple bobbing as he shook his head. "I've learned t
hat a person can still breathe when his fucking heart is splattered on a prison cell floor." He stepped closer to me. I remained exactly where I was, knowing that even though this man was angry, he would never harm me. "I've learned that time fixes sweet fuck all. Time is a bitch, Hope. A. Bitch. Nothing heals with time. Nothing gets better with time. Actions makes things better. Actions heal."
"Look, I'm sorry about what Hayley," I began to say, but he cut me off quickly.
"This has nothing to do with Hayley," Lucky roared, lived. "And everything to do with that woman upstairs – and that dead baby." Exhaling a shaky breath, Lucky took a step back from me and composed himself before turning to Noah and saying, "Are you ready, man?"
Noah looked at me and then Lucky.
"I'm ready," he said.
With that, I watched them walk out of the kitchen helplessly.
"Noah, please!"
"Tell Max to stay with her," Noah tossed out orders over his shoulder. "Don’t leave her on her own, Hope."
"You're putting me in a horrible position, Noah," I called out. "If I don’t report this, I'm an accessory to conspiracy."
"That's your choice, Hope," was all he said before disappearing out the front door.
****
Chapter Twenty-Two
Noah
I'm five and frightened. It's dark and past my bedtime. Mom's asleep. Dad gave her some of that special medicine. The one where she's always sleepy after. I'm glad my dad gives her that medicine. It stops her from being so scary. "My stomach still hurts, Dad." Dad will make it better. He makes everything better. He makes Mom happy and stops those mean old men from pushing me around. The dogs are barking in the yard out back. They're going crazy. I guess they're hungry like me…
"You ready, Noah?" Lucky asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
Hidden from sight behind the back of some crummy motel off Highway nine, Lucky handed me a bottle with a greased up rag hanging out of it.
What he was risking for me right now was almost inconceivable. Risking his future to help me avenge my wife and child. I'd never had anyone willing to do something like this for me before. And Lucky knew the score. He'd done twice the amount of time I had. He knew what was at risk if we were caught. And he was here anyway. By my side. Ready to take a fucking bullet with me. Shaking my head, I forced myself to breathe slowly. All the blood in my body felt like it had gone to my head. Adrenalin was coursing through me at a rapid pace, but I somehow managed to keep still.
"In and out," Lucky whispered, unscrewing the cap on a gallon of petrol. No regrets. No tracks.
I still couldn’t believe he'd planned all of this. Lucky had single handedly scoped out the whereabouts of JD Dennis and tracked him down sixty miles north of Denver, camped out in a shitty motel on the side of the interstate. Where the police and even Gonzalez had failed, Lucky had made true to his nickname. This man was a fucking mystery to me.
"And you're sure he's in there?" I asked, eyes locked on the bottle of petrol in my hand. I held a brick in the other.
I was fifteen years old the last time I'd handled a petrol bomb. I'd been sent on a job with JD for his father George. I'd been the lookout then. The fact that I was holding one now and about to take out the prick who'd dragged me into this world felt surreal.
"Fucking certain," Lucky whispered. "Go look in that window and see for yourself."
Having said that, I watched Lucky crouch down and run from one side of the building to the other, dousing the walls, doors and windows in petrol.
I waited for Lucky to give me the nod and when he finally did, I jumped to my feet and ran straight for the lone window at the back of the building.
Stopping just a few yards short of the window, I looked in and my heart slammed in my chest. JD was inside the window, laying on no doubt some shitty box spring mattress. Taking a box of matches out of my pocket, I sparked a flame and lit the petrol bomb.
Knowing I had only seconds to get the hell out of here, I flung the brick through the window first, shattering the glass.
Just before I released the bottle, the sound of a woman screaming filled my ear and I stalled.
He wasn’t alone.
Turning to Lucky, I gaped.
"Do it," Lucky hissed. "Throw the bomb, now!"
I couldn’t fucking do this.
"It's you or him, Noah!"
Not to an innocent.
"Her or Teagan?"
I looked at the bottle that was on fire in my hands and then thought of my wife – of my dead daughter.
He had to be stopped…
Decision made, I reached back and flung it through the broken window.
The moment the bottle landed inside the motel room an explosion erupted. Flames enveloped the building and I staggered back, blinded from the blaze and the heat.
Less than a minute later, the sound of a gun going off pierced through the air and I automatically dropped.
"Come on," Lucky hissed, crawling over to me with his gun out and cocked. "Let's get the fuck out of here now, man." Turning, Lucky remained hunched as he ran for cover in the nearby woods. We were miles from his truck, but if we were quick, I knew we'd be out of here before the cops showed up. Or worse, JD's men.
More gun shots followed, closer this time, followed by the sound of a fire alarm drilling and men shouting.
Wishing I could stand there and watch the bastard burn in hell, I turned and followed my friend into the darkness of the night.
****
Teagan
"I'm so sorry about your daughter," Uncle Max said as he sat at my bedside and held my hand. "I'm so sorry you had to experience that, Teagan."
"Me too," I whispered, not trusting my mouth to say much more. I wasn't able to. This was the most I'd spoken in a month.
"But you know suicide is not the answer." Tears filled Max's eyes. "When Noah called me, I thought I'd lost you."
"I am lost," I said, confiding in my uncle. "So very lost."
"There's no expiration date on grieving, sweetheart," he replied sadly. "It's not measured in days and weeks. Time is cruel and grief stays still, darkening and putting a tinge of misery on everything in life."
"Yeah," I replied, nodding slowly. That was it. Exactly it. "I feel broken. Like my life has been put on pause." Shivering, I added, "Paused on the most god awful part."
"Do you want to come home, Teagan?" Uncle Max asked, shocking me. "Let me take care of you for a while?"
"I can't leave him," I whispered out of habit more than anything. "I mean, how can I?" Clenching my eyes shut, I whispered, "I feel like I've failed him and now I don't know what to do," I confessed, biting down on my knuckle.
I didn't want to leave Noah, but I couldn't stay here.
It wasn't working and I was killing the both of us. He had a career he would eventually return to – he was a superstar after all – and I was ruining everything for him.
I was a burden.
I knew that in time he would find a woman who could love him better than I ever did – than I could. A woman who could put him first. A selfless woman.
Nothing I said or did, or Noah said and did, could erase Einín from my mind.
"Sometimes I wish I never had her," I told my uncle. Sometimes I prayed for my mind to be erased. Being crazy had to be easier than living in eternal torture and turmoil.
I couldn't imagine living a normal life again. Or going about day to day business.
Everything seemed pointless now.
Not enough.
I felt empty and no amount of anything could fill the hole inside of me. The desperation and need for something I knew I could never have.
She was in the ground, growing colder by the day; decaying, rotting.
And I was rotting from the inside out.
Knowing Noah loved me wasn’t enough to pull me out of this. I needed him to be enough but all I had inside was a gaping hole spreading, widening, with pieces of myself falling through the cracks.
In this instanc
e, love just wasn't enough to heal the rift, the pain, the separating pull that had occurred between us.
He didn't see me as Teagan anymore. He saw the broken woman. The childless mother. The woman who couldn't keep his daughter alive inside in her body the way she was supposed to…
I was no good for him.
He could find someone who wouldn't let him down like I had.
This was a permanent break, I realized.
There was no coming back from a break like this.
****
Hope was pacing the hall when I came down stairs with Uncle Max.
"What the hell?" Hope gaped at the suitcases my uncle had in each hand. "Don’t you dare," she hissed, awareness in her blue eyes. "Don’t you dare bail on him now."
"Don’t try and stop me, Hope," I whispered, still feeling groggy from the meds flushing through my veins. "I need to do this."
If I stayed, I was going to take us both down.
If I left, Noah at least had a shot at a future.
Either way I was ruined.
"So, you're leaving him?" she replied flatly. "Again?"
I flinched and wrapped my arms around my body. "I can't be here anymore."
Hope didn’t understand.
She couldn’t.
No one did.
"What am I supposed to tell your husband?" she demanded. "The man who has spent that past six weeks at your bedside?"
Blinking back the tears, I followed my uncle out the front door, only turning back to whisper, "Tell him he's better off without me."
****
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hope