Spliced

by Robin Leigh Miller

She waited for more, but quickly realized nothing more would be said. Ridge cleaned his plate as she picked and pushed her food around. She’d put off the conversation they needed to have and couldn’t delay it anymore.

  After Ridge cleared the table and washed up the dishes, Avery went to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “Have a seat, Ridge. I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Where’d ya get that?” he asked, pointing at the bottle.

  “A gift from a customer at the boutique. I never brought it home. Thought we might need it tonight. Grab two glasses, would ya?”

  Ridge set two glasses on the table and took his seat as she poured three fingers into each. She hoped the whiskey would help ease the words past her lips. Ridge held his between his hands with a grip that could shatter the glass. Hopefully he wouldn’t hurl it at her when she finished telling him her secret.

  After a long sigh, she took sip of whiskey and reveled in the burn. “Cale and I were twins,” she said, deciding the beginning was the best place to start.

  “I’m aware of that.”

  Ridge’s tone was precise, clipped and all business. Okay, if that’s the way he wanted to approach this, fine by her. “Twins sometimes share a connection other people don’t understand.”

  Silence was like a wall between them as he watched her carefully. “I’ve heard identical twins sometimes share a connection,” he finally said.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know much about identical twins, but Cale and I shared a special connection.”

  Again, they sat there, neither of them speaking and both on edge. This wasn’t fair to him. He didn’t ask for this and here she was dragging it out and keeping him tense. “Okay, here it is.” Like a Band-Aid, she thought, rip it off fast and deal with the pain. “We shared a mental connection. I knew what he was feeling and he knew what I was feeling all the time. Sometimes we could even share thoughts.”

  Another long stretch of silence that nearly had her jumping from her chair and pacing. Instead, she took a big sip of whiskey, swirled it around in her mouth and then swallowed, sucking in a sharp breath as it burned down her throat and set fire to her stomach.

  “So, you talked to each other telepathically?”

  “No. We didn’t talk to each other. I experienced his happiness, his fear, his anger, sometimes I could almost hear his thoughts in my head, but we didn’t talk to each other. We had this thing,” she said, smiling sadly. “I never asked about what he did in the military as long as he reached out to me before he went into a dangerous situation and after it ended. Kind of like a mental hug.”

  Ridge stared down into his glass for several long seconds.

  “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” She wouldn’t blame him if he did.

  “No, actually, it explains a few things.” Ridge pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment and then picked up his glass and drank half the whiskey.

  Avery decided not to ask what it explained—she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. “That day you two were hit, Cale sent a mental message that he was about to walk into something dangerous. I paced the house until I got my ‘hug’ saying he was okay. I was so relieved and exhausted I plopped down on the couch and the next thing I knew—” God, the pain still rattled her like it all happened yesterday. “It felt like a bomb hit the side of my head.”

  Ridge jerked his head up, his face completely void of emotion. “What?”

  “That was all part of it,” she told him. “We could feel each other’s pain. Most of the time we could block our thoughts and feelings, but when something so intense happens we can’t. Couldn’t.” Avery swallowed the rest of her whiskey. She’d have to learn how to talk about Cale in the past tense now. Fuck, this was going to be harder than she thought.

  “You felt the shrapnel?”

  “Yeah. It didn’t last long, he must have passed out.” Her throat tightened, speaking about it, constricted like a vise that made swallowing difficult and painful. She hadn’t revisited these memories for a reason.

  Ridge jolted from his chair, his hands scrubbing back and forth over his shaggy hair as he paced in the small area. “You actually felt it,” he said more to himself than to her. “I can’t imagine. The pain had to be, God, I don’t even know.”

  “Lung-freezing, brain-exploding, blinding, you name it, it won’t describe it.” One thing she could be thankful for was her brother passing out and if the pain remained, then she’d be grateful that he never regained consciousness.

  Ridge came to an abrupt halt, turned toward her and pinned her with a fierce, angry, scared glare. “You were here alone. You suffered through that alone. Fuck, Avery, you must have been terrified.”

  Her chest and throat were so strained she could barely nod. The room began to spin as her head swam from lack of air. Try as she might, she simply couldn’t draw air into her body. She didn’t want to talk about this, but she had to. Ridge had to understand how it all happened and how he’d become permanently connected to her.

  “When the pain passed I could still sense him,” she spoke in a quiet, hoarse voice and swore she must have swallowed razor blades. “We were still okay.” With shaky hands she picked up the whiskey bottle, filling her glass halfway.

  Ridge continued to stand there, watching her with lethal eyes. Was he angry with her, with Cale or the situation? It didn’t matter. He needed to be told, he needed to know. She’d deal with it. She had to.

  “I felt him slip away. He was there and then part of myself just melted away and I knew.” She choked on the last word. She’d forever see that moment as the beginning of the end.

  Ridge turned and slammed his fists on the counter, startling her. “I knew you two were closer than most siblings. I had no idea you were actually connected. I should have been there for you instead of hiding like a coward.”

  “Ridge, you aren’t a coward,” she whispered, not willing to let him take the blame for all of this and that’s exactly what he was doing. His guilt filled her like poison. “You had your own issues to deal with.”

  “Issues,” he snapped. “That’s a fucking nice way of saying I let my best friend down and then was so damned busy wallowing in self-pity that I neglected the only other person walking this earth that I care about.”

  Avery squeezed her eyes closed, bracing herself against the rage that poured from him and into her. The man had a devastating temper. “Ridge, you didn’t let him down. You couldn’t have stopped what happened, no one could.” They had to get past this. It happened and couldn’t be changed. “You might want to sit down for the rest of this.”

  When he didn’t move, she drank more alcohol, both to give her courage and drown his emotions overtaking her. “Another presence appeared as he was slipping away. I heard another faint voice pleading for him to hang on, not to leave.”

  She kept a close watch on him, noticed the slight way his back and arms tensed. His anger flooded her system along with confusion and she couldn’t blame him for either emotion.

  “It was that pleading, that raw emotion and love that brought him back.” He needed to know that too. He needed to know his best friend hung on because Ridge loved him so much. “I joined that love and together—” Avery took a steadying breath. “We gave him a chance to fight.”

  Ridge lifted his head, the muscles in his neck tense until she could see each defined clearly. “After that, after he took his first breath, we separated somehow.”

  “I lost Avery,” Ridge said.

  “What?”

  “He kept saying he lost Avery. I kept telling him you were at home, safe and that we’d be going home to see you soon. I thought he was confused, ya know, his brain not working right.”

  “In a way it wasn’t.” How scared Cale must have been taking that first life-saving breath only to realize she wasn’t there anymore. He couldn’t have understood. Hell, she didn’t understand. “We’ve been connected since the day we were born, probably even in the womb.”

  “It must have been
like having your soul torn out.”

  “Yes and no,” she answered truthfully. “I’ve never been without Cale, but I wasn’t alone.” A wave of refusal hit her, pushing her back into her chair. He didn’t want to hear it, but he would. He’d hear it all.

  “What’s that mean?”

  God, she was tired of talking to his back. “Turn around and look at me,” she demanded in her head forcefully.

  Ridge nearly jerked around, stopping himself short before he made it all the way.

  “No!” The word crashed into her, inciting her own vicious response.

  “Yes!”

  He wouldn’t believe her this way. She needed to continue the story, make him believe. “I felt the pain in your leg, Ridge, the searing pain in your face. Your anger filled me until it exhausted you and I absorbed your grief for the girl and your men. I sat on the floor in there and cried from the crushing grief and then I limped up to my room after I helped you let go and rest.”

  “What are you saying, Avery?” he asked, finally turning around and facing her. “Are you saying whatever it was you had with Cale, you now have with me?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You know it’s true, Ridge, except I seem to be able to read your thoughts and talk to you better than I did Cale. I don’t claim to know how it works, I simply know it does.”

  Ridge shook his head, backed up until he hit the counter and continued to shake his head in denial.

  “Don’t do this, Ridge. Don’t make it harder. Remember at the airport, in the limo. How did you know to come to me last night? You know it’s true.”

  Real brutal anger slammed into her body, stealing her breath for a moment. She didn’t understand. She’d expected him to get mad, but not this violent malevolence. “Stop, Ridge. I can’t handle this much rage at once,” she said, placing her hand over her hammering heart.

  He pulled it back so quickly she actually swayed from the brutal loss. “Thank you,” she gasped, hanging her head, trying to catch her breath. “I know this is a lot to take in,” she said, looking up at him. “But you know it’s all true.” She wouldn’t let him deny it.

  Ridge shook his head again, his eyes glowing with a mixture of rage and fear. “I thought I was going insane,” he growled quietly. “I thought I’d lost my mind. You knew this was going on and didn’t tell me until now?”

  His anger flared again. Avery thought if she could see emotional energy his would look like an explosion, the particles shooting and impaling her body. Ridge slammed his fist on the counter and the instant skin-splitting pain ripped through her knuckles, making her shout as she held her hand to her chest.

  “Is it you I feel when I have a panic attack?” he shouted. “Are you inside my head then?”

  Avery managed a weak, “Yes.” Her hand throbbed, the bones aching as though they’d splintered and the sensation of tearing flesh making her fingers shake. She could block it, but he needed to know his action affected her.

  “Fuck!” he barked. “That’s none of your damn business,” he said, pointing his finger at her as blood dripped from his split knuckles. “You have no right.” It was then he noticed her holding her shaking hand. Looking at his and then back at her, he shouted another, “Fuck!” and grabbed some ice from the freezer. “Block it, Avery. You said you can block it—do it, for God’s sake.”

  “No,” she replied with determination. Now she could endure all his pain. The scar on his face, his torn leg, it all assailed her body.

  “I can’t believe this,” he muttered, looking as though he wanted to run. “So you can invade my head at any time?”

  Invade, the word cut through her like a hot knife. He made her sound like a villain in some science fiction movie crawling around inside human heads, manipulating their thoughts. It wasn’t like that.

  “I don’t invade your head,” she answered calmly.

  “Then what the fuck do you call it?”

  His anger once again leaked through her barriers. He was strong, so much stronger than Cale. Maybe the whiskey had something to do with it, or maybe Ridge could simply plow her over with his emotions no matter how hard she tried to resist. Either way, he was stoking a hot fire inside her that brought her anger to the surface.

  “I don’t have a name for it,” she snapped. “I just know it is what it is.”

  Blood dripped from his hand onto the table and floor. Avery rocked back and forth, unable to sit still from the energy bouncing around wildly inside her body. She focused on the blood droplets as she fought to keep calm.

  “Do you have any idea what I’ve been going through?” he growled between clenched teeth. “I thought I was going nuts, bat-shit crazy outta my mind because I could hear things, feel things that didn’t make sense.” Ridge gripped the back of the kitchen chair in front of him. “It was bad enough my body’s ruined but my mind had blitzed out on me too.”

  Avery wanted to respond, but knew she had to let him unload all his grievances. It would be the only way they could move forward.

  “What the fuck am I saying?” he said on a cruel, evil laugh. “Of course you knew. You were in there,” he shouted, pointing his finger to his head.

  “Stop it,” she whispered, rocking herself. “Stop, please.” She couldn’t hold on to her control anymore. Her anger was coming alive and she didn’t want to lash out. Not now.

  “You should have told me sooner,” he snarled, slamming his fist down on the table. “I had a right to know about this right away.”

  Avery jumped from her chair, her hand still balled tight and tucked against her chest. “And how the hell was I going to tell you?” Ridge had reason to be mad at her, but she wouldn’t take all the blame. “I called, I left messages. I had no idea where the hell you were, Ridge. You wouldn’t even stand with me in Dover when that fucking plane came in.”

  “You could have told me through this,” he barked, pointing to his head again.

  “You wouldn’t have listened that way. No!” she protested when he opened his mouth to disagree. “You know you wouldn’t have. You already thought you had a mental break. That would have only made things worse.”

  What she said made sense and Ridge couldn’t argue with it. He knew he couldn’t and that made his rage increase tenfold. God, if he didn’t calm down her heart would explode from the rush of blood gushing at high speed through her body. A war of wills took place inside his head. The conflicting emotions made her head throb. He didn’t want to blame her, he didn’t want to cause her any more pain, but at the same time he did blame her and he did want to cause her pain.

  She understood completely. In a moment of time his life had been turned inside out in more ways than one and now he was stuck with her no matter how far away he ran. He would grow to hate her. She knew it and it made her physically ill.

  Not wanting to retch in front of him, Avery made her way around the table on wobbly legs and headed for the stairs. She needed a cold towel—hell, she needed to submerge her head in a cold bucket of water.

  “Don’t you walk away from me, Avery,” Ridge shouted as she took the first step. “We aren’t finished with this yet.”

  No, they weren’t, but she needed a moment to pull herself together. Her legs moved as though she walked through wet sand, her only goal getting to the bathroom.

  “Damn it, Avery.” Ridge stomped out of the kitchen, approached and his leg gave out.

  White hot fire exploded in Avery’s leg, radiating throughout her body. She crumpled to the steps, screaming in agony as the pain consumed her. Her body shook uncontrollably as every nerve ending burned like a hot poker.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Avery.” Ridge dragged himself up the steps. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

  His anger subsided, replaced with fear and remorse. She couldn’t process it all with the debilitating pain.

  “I’m sorry, babe,” he continued, pushing her damp hair from her face. “Block it, babe. Block the pain.”

  “Can’t.” Her jaw was chat
tering as sweat seeped out of every pour. “You’re. Too. Strong.” God, how did he live with this kind of torture every day?

  “What do I do?” He cradled her against his chest, stroking and soothing burning flesh.

  With his thoughts transfixed on her now, Ridge pulled back mentally and the agony eased. “I’m okay,” she told him as her body continued to tremble. “I’ll be all right.”

  Nausea hit like an iron fist to her system. Her mouth began to water, her stomach clenched, squeezing foul bile up into her throat and she couldn’t hold it back. Scrambling out of Ridge’s hold, she crawled up the steps and stumbled into the bathroom before she lost it. When her stomach finally emptied, she flushed the toilet and sat back against the wall.

  “The pain does that to me too, sometimes.” Ridge grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the faucet before sitting down next to her and pressing it against her forehead.

  The cool water was heaven against her clammy skin. “How do you live with it?”

  “I’ve been trained to compartmentalize everything. Pain has its own place and I keep it there away from the rest of my life,” he said, wiping her mouth. “Most of the time.”

  “You’ll have to teach me that snazzy little trick,” she said, taking the cloth and tossing it in her hamper. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a hot bath.” Her muscles were screaming from the ambush she’d just endured. If she didn’t soak and try to relax she wouldn’t be able to move in the morning.

  “I don’t mind,” he said, reaching over and turning on the water in the tub. “You have salts?”

  “No,” she answered, watching him curiously. Did he plan on staying?

  “You should get some. It works good on sore muscles.” He turned toward her, gripped the bottom of her shirt and began tugging it up her torso.

  “Ridge, what are you doing?” He tossed her shirt into the hallway and then reached behind her to unhook her bra.

  “Let it go for now,” he whispered, sliding her bra down her arms. “For a little while, let it go. I need to take care of you right now.”