Fractured Hearts

by SJD Peterson

  “Kegan… No…”

  He looked down at his hands. Blood covered them and a large pool had gathered beneath the head of his lifeless father. He let the hair fall from his fists and felt no remorse for the man as he turned in Charlie’s direction. Her tiny hands were bound and stretched tight over her head, and her legs were spread out painfully far apart and tied toward the far walls. A strap covered her forehead to hold her head in place and prevented her from looking in his direction.

  “Charlie.” He crawled toward her and knelt beside her, his hands shaking so bad, he was afraid to touch her. Her face was swollen and broken—it contorted her features beneath the blood that ran from her mouth and nose.

  “Ah God, Charlie.” He couldn’t hold back the tears that streamed down his face from the ragged pain that twisted his gut.

  “Kegan,” she whispered.

  “Shh, don’t try to talk, baby. I’m here, you’re safe now.” He reached a trembling hand out, needed to touch her to be sure she was real, but was afraid that even the softest of touches would cause her more pain. He untied her hands and placed them gently by her side before he removed the rest of her restraints.

  “I’m so sorry, baby. I… I should have been there… Should have…” Kegan couldn’t finish. Anguish consumed him, and in that moment, the guilt of what had happened to Charlie, what he had allowed to happen to her, came crashing down on him.

  She didn’t move or try to reach out to him, just lay there so still. He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, the only indication that she was still alive. The damage to her beautiful face was so severe it scared him. She was a tiny thing, how the hell had she endured this? He reached out and brushed his fingers against her skin. She was so cold. Kegan started to unbutton his jacket when a flash of movement beside him caught his attention a millisecond before the noise.

  Pop.

  Kegan turned to see Drake slumped against the wall, knife in hand, with a perfect dime-sized circle in the middle of his bloodied forehead. Turning, he saw Trevor in the doorway, gun still raised and pointed at Drake.

  The sound of a small sob from Charlie had Kegan jerking his head back around and back to his senses. His only thought as he lifted her gently into his arms was to get her the hell out of there and to a hospital.

  Trevor moved up beside him and placed his coat over her body. Kegan clasped her tightly against his chest and rushed out of the shack, Trevor at his heels calling the sheriff to meet them at the hospital as they ran toward the truck.

  Trevor cut ahead of him and threw the passenger door open before he raced around to the driver’s side. Kegan slid in, Charlie snug against him. He stared down at her face buried in their coats, her breathing gentle as if she were sleeping. He hoped she was sleeping, or at the very least passed out from exhaustion, so she didn’t have to endure the pain of her injuries.

  Looking at her battered face, Kegan was paralyzed by the fear, rage and loss warring through him. He didn’t give a fuck about the loss of Drake, the world was a much better place without that wasted excuse for a human, but for Charlie’s loss. Would she ever feel safe again?

  “How is she? I need to know something here.” Trevor’s desperate voice broke the silence as he whipped the truck around and headed toward town.

  Her breathing grew more shallow, her pulse weaker. “Ah shit! I think she’s going into shock, get us there now!” Kegan roared.

  He’d waited too long. It was his fault, had driven all over the damn county when Charlie was being tortured. He should be the one broken and battered, not this tiny little thing in his arms. He desperately wanted to alleviate her pain, bear it for her. It should be his burden, not hers.

  Kegan brushed the hair back from her pale face. “I’ve got you, Charlie, just hold on for us. We need you. Please, baby, just hold on.” He held her firmly against him as Trevor pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The small emergency waiting room felt more like a cage and Trevor the animal imprisoned in it as the metaphorical bars pressed heavily in on his mind.

  He and Kegan had gone over the story with Sheriff Johnson, the FBI agents, as well as countless doctors, social workers and other hospital staff. The emotional toll had been exhausting, and through it all, the only thing he wanted to do was snatch Charlie up in his arms and take her home where she belonged.

  No one had told them anything about her condition except the polite ‘She’s going to be fine’, or the one that made him craziest, ‘We’re doing everything we can’.

  What the fuck did that mean? Did it mean that a bigger hospital could do more? He knew that probably wasn’t fair, they would airlift her to a larger hospital if they didn’t think they could handle it, but dammit, this wasn’t just anyone. Charlie deserved the best. Trevor’s pacing became more of a two-year-old temper tantrum stomp as the minutes ticked by. Why in the hell wouldn’t they let them see her?

  Kegan wasn’t faring much better. He sat in an old butt-ugly green plastic waiting-room chair, brooding, and scowled at anyone who came near him. He had successfully pissed off no fewer than a dozen nurses, a few orderlies and various others trying to find out what the hell was going on. They had threatened to send his ass to jail if he didn’t calm down and stop disrupting everyone in the place. Now he sat hunched in his chair, tense and growly, but at least he hadn’t threatened to kill anyone in the last two minutes. Huge improvement.

  Trevor threw himself in the chair next to Kegan. “I say we take the place by force, how about you?”

  Kegan’s scowl deepened. “If they don’t tell us something soon, I swear she won’t be the only one lying on a fucking cart.”

  Well at least he had lasted a whole two minutes.

  “She has to be okay,” Kegan mumbled more to himself, the hopelessness and sorrow thick in his voice as he scrubbed his hand across his face.

  Trevor reached over, pulled Kegan into a tight embrace and forced the man’s head against his shoulder. He didn’t need to say anything. Nothing he could say would make either of them feel better, he just needed the contact of Kegan against him as an anchor.

  Trevor felt as if he would shatter into tiny pieces and needed Kegan’s touch to hold him together. Kegan gripped his shirt as he pressed his face against Trevor’s shoulder, his breathing harsh. Was he crying? Hyperventilating? Either way they both needed the comfort the other offered.

  A nurse stepped into the waiting room and both men bolted to their feet.

  “Mr. Kingsington? Mr. Colburn? I just wanted to let you know that Miss McCarty is resting quietly and the doctor will be out shortly to speak with you.”

  “When can we see her?” Kegan demanded.

  “You’ll have to ask the doctor that. He’ll be with you in just a moment.”

  Trevor sat back in his chair and dropped his head into his hands, relief washing over him. Charlie was going to be okay. They would be able to take her home and work on putting all this ugliness behind them.

  They both sat in silence until the door opened and Dr. Brooks strolled out. They surged to their feet again.

  “Please tell us she’s okay,” Kegan practically begged.

  “Yes, she’s resting comfortably. We sedated her so she is not in any pain at the moment. She suffered a broken nose and substantial trauma to the rest of her face. I have to warn you, her appearance will be quite a shock now that the swelling has fully set in, and the bandages pronounce the discoloration. Fortunately, the injuries should heal nicely and I don’t expect any permanent damage.” He looked back and forth between Trevor and Kegan, a sympathetic expression on his face. “Let’s have a seat, please.” Dr. Brooks gestured to the chairs they had just vacated, and moved to take a seat on the coffee table opposite the chairs.

  This couldn’t be good. Why the hell did they need to sit down for the rest of the report? Trevor’s insides began to clench. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the rest of it and yet knew he needed to.

  Dr. Brooks w
aited for them to sit before he continued. “Miss McCarty underwent a series of exams, one of which was a rape kit. Before she was given a sedative, she gave me permission to go over those findings with both of you.”

  Trevor grasped Kegan’s hand in his and hung on for dear life. He had known this was a possibility but had tried to block those thoughts out of his head. It would be hard enough for him to deal with it, but it would be sheer agony for Kegan to endure the thought of his own father raping the woman he loved.

  “She suffered some slight vaginal tearing from the assault, but the wounds are superficial and confined to the exterior area. There were no interior wounds and the tests came back negative for seminal fluid. Miss McCarty has confirmed the findings and informed us that her attacker did touch her sexually, but only with his fingers and she was rescued before it could go any further.”

  Kegan slumped forward, brought their joined hands to his face and rested his forehead against them. “Thank you. Please, I want to see Charlie.”

  Dr. Brooks stood and nodded. “I’ll give you a minute to collect yourselves and then the nurse will show you back to her room.” He shook each of their hands before he left them alone.

  A few moments later, a nurse appeared at the door. “Are you ready to see Miss McCarty?”

  Kegan scrambled to his feet, followed by Trevor. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She motioned for them to follow her. “Right this way.”

  Kegan worked to control his strides, desperate to run past her to get to Charlie, but knew he needed to keep himself composed. Charlie was going to need him to be strong for her.

  They moved down the brightly lit hallway, people scurrying about, moving in and out of rooms. As they passed a large nurses’ station, people gave them sympathetic looks. The nurse opened the door at the end of the hall and he brushed past her.

  Kegan’s breath caught and his chest tightened painfully as he looked at Charlie lying against the stark white sheets of the hospital bed, pale and vulnerable.

  Various tubes and wires were attached to her and the white bandage across her broken nose stood out in a stark contrast to her bruised skin. Her eyes were black and swollen but thankfully she didn’t appear to be in pain, her breathing a slow, peaceful rhythm. Even with the entire trauma to her face, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She was alive and that was what mattered. Under all the damage was still his Charlie. He didn’t want to wake her, grateful that she wasn’t in pain and able to sleep, but he needed to touch her, feel her warm skin against his. He needed the reassurance that she really was alive and safe.

  Kegan moved quietly to her side, Trevor close behind on her other side. They each took one of her hands in theirs.

  Kegan bent his head and gently kissed her knuckles. “We’re here, Charlie,” he whispered against her skin, just to let her know that they were with her.

  As Kegan stroked her skin and looked at the damage done to her, he nearly collapsed as guilt filled him, and it took everything he had to stay on his feet when he wanted to drop to his knees and howl. How the hell had he let this happen to her? He should have killed that bastard years ago when he’d had the chance, should have kept hitting that goddamn smiling face until it had disappeared forever. This was his fault. He had asked Charlie to trust him and look how he’d repaid her for that trust.

  He laid his head next to their entwined hands, tried to set aside the self-loathing and blame he truly deserved. He’d deal with that later. Right now, she needed him to be strong for her, make her feel safe again. He wasn’t sure how the hell he was going to do that when his whole world had been ripped apart and turned upside down. He couldn’t let the feeling go that he’d failed her, it was lodged so tightly and interwoven into his entire being. He barely remembered a time in his life when he hadn’t wanted Charlie, and now that he had finally gotten a chance with her, it had nearly destroyed her.

  You’ve never been good enough for her.

  Damn, that hit home. He’d never been good enough for her and never would be. He would do everything in his power to help her through this ordeal, give her everything she wanted and needed.

  And when she was strong again, he would give her the gift of walking away. She wouldn’t ever have to endure this kind of pain and suffering because of him again. She deserved so much more.

  * * * *

  A caress against his hair startled him awake. Kegan didn’t remember closing his eyes, but he must have dozed off. He raised his head and met Charlie’s gaze. Her left eye was swollen shut, but her right eye was open and stared at him with a dazed, unfocused look. He tried to decipher the expression, but couldn’t read her emotions. Did she hate him now? It was no less than he deserved.

  “Ah Jesus, Charlie. Please forgive me.”

  A single tear rolled down her face as she tried to raise her head from the pillow.

  “Easy, baby.” He reached up with his free hand and gently pushed her back down. “You need rest. You’re going to be fine, but you need to lie still, sleep and heal.”

  Trevor leaned up and brushed the hair back from her face, gently pushed it behind her ear. “We’re both here, baby, and we’re not going anywhere.”

  Charlie turned her head slightly in Trevor’s direction. “I hurt.” Her voice was barely audible and hard to discern from her swollen lips, then she turned her head in Kegan’s direction.

  “I know, baby, just lie still. I’ll call the nurse for you.” Trevor reached out and pushed the call light.

  A bored-sounding voice came over the intercom. “Can I help you?”

  “She’s in pain,” Trevor gritted out.

  “I’ll send the nurse right down.”

  Within minutes, a nurse entered the room and moved to the IV lines sticking out of Charlie’s arm. “This will make you feel better, honey.” She checked Charlie’s wristband, compared it to the syringe she held before administering the pain medication.

  Seconds later, Charlie’s body relaxed but she still continued to stare at Kegan.

  “There you go, you just rest and I’ll be back later to check on you,” the nurse informed Charlie. She double-checked all the monitors and lines before instructing Kegan and Trevor to call if Charlie needed anything else, then slipped out of the room.

  Kegan couldn’t take his eyes off Charlie. She continued to stare at him with a dazed look, blinking once, twice, then closed her eyes as the medication did its magic and relieved her pain so she could drift back to sleep.

  Kegan wondered what she had been thinking as she’d stared at him. The tear that had fallen from her eye had ripped his heart into a million shattered pieces. He had seen the physical pain in her eyes but also the emotional pain.

  He couldn’t help but think that the look he’d seen in her eyes was an acknowledgment of what he felt, what he knew. This was his fault and what he’d seen in her eyes, the tear that had run down her battered cheek was proof that she knew it too.

  Trevor watched Kegan over the next couple of hours while Charlie slept. His muscles hadn’t relaxed one bit, continued to flex and tick, though he appeared to be sleeping with his head against Charlie’s arm.

  He had tried to talk to Kegan a few times, to convince him to get some real sleep, but he refused. He seemed to have withdrawn into himself. In fact, the last time Trevor had tried to talk to him, Kegan hadn’t even bothered to respond, though Trevor knew he wasn’t asleep. Kegan blamed himself for what had happened.

  The guilt didn’t only stem from not checking the Conners’ shack before they had, but that it had been Kegan’s father who had done this to Charlie. How the fuck was he going to prove to Kegan that it wasn’t his fault and that he held no responsibility for what his old man had done? Dealing with Kegan when his mind was set was like trying to reason with a rabid dog with his teeth sunk into your arm. Damn near impossible.

  Charlie stirred and Trevor tightened his grip on her hand. He glanced at Kegan. He’d lifted his head too and stared at Charlie, pure agony dancing across h
is eyes. Dammit, he needed to find a way to block out his own heartbreak and figure out how in the hell to take away the pain from both of them.

  Charlie moaned and turned her head in Trevor’s direction. Kegan visibly winced when she turned from him.

  “Hey, baby, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?” Trevor leaned in closer, knowing how hard it was for his girl to speak. He felt the brush of her breath against his cheek.

  “Wa…water.”

  He picked up the glass from the side table and carefully placed the straw to her lips. When he realized she couldn’t form a seal around the straw, he drew water into the straw, his finger over the hole to hold the water in, then moved it to allow the liquid to slowly seep into her mouth when he placed it against her lips. “Better?”

  Charlie nodded slightly, then mouthed, “Hurts.”

  Once again, he called the nurse and she came quickly, checking the lines and monitors before sedating her. Charlie never turned her head in Kegan’s direction, which clearly hadn’t gone unnoticed by Kegan either. He withdrew further into himself as he slumped back down to rest his head next to the now-sleeping Charlie.

  All through the night, the same scene played out over and over. Kegan would get up to relieve himself or take a sip of water, but other than that, he didn’t move from his resting place next to Charlie. He never slept and she never turned to look at him.

  By eight the next morning, Trevor had finally had enough. He flat-out couldn’t stand to see Kegan suffer anymore. He stood and moved around to the other side of the bed and grabbed Kegan. “Let’s go.”

  Silence.

  Trevor leaned closer to Kegan’s ear, kept his voice down to a low snarl. “Get up, unless you want me to wake Charlie when I start to yell. If not, I suggest you get your ass up out of that chair now.”