Full Circle (Shattered Lives, Book Five)

by Rissa Blakeley

  “Hell fucking no. No one is sticking me in a bloody coffin.” I waved my hands in front of me. “Nope…no way…no how. Not fucking happening.”

  Somehow, his already stern face tightened even more. He set the chart on the tray at the end of the bed, his fingers drumming for a moment. When he crossed his arms over his chest, I lifted a brow, waiting for the challenge. If it boiled down to it, I’d gut the motherfucker with a pen.

  “I’m terribly sorry if this interrupts something you had planned this morning, Mr. Richards.” He raised one hand, rubbing his chin. “Was it a visit to the loo? Masturbation?” He glanced at the gym equipment off to the side. “Maybe a quick jog on the treadmill? Or reading a few pages in your books?” He swished his hand through the air, then narrowed his gaze. “Oh, I know… It’s pining over your lost love and wishing you could be with your child, isn’t it?”

  Fury flamed through my body, licking every cell, my face heating and limbs tingling. How dare he throw this bullshit back in my face? “Watch your step, twat. You are clueless as to what I’ve gone through since day one.” I held his gaze, making it hard for either one of us to turn away. “I refuse the MRI.”

  His lips twitched. “You are so wrong, it’s almost amusing.”

  “Fuck off.” I found myself planning, calculating distance and muscle twitches. His pattern of movement was smooth, but not flourished.

  He wrapped his hands around the footboard, his shoulders bunching as he leaned forward. “That is what’s happening. You will have it done or we cannot proceed with the anti-serum. You can do it willingly, or I can strap you down, immobilizing you, and force you to do it. Which way will it be, Mr. Richards? Because I’ve got a lot of fight in me.”

  Panic settled in the pit of my stomach. Bile crept up my esophagus, bringing on another shudder. My heart thundered, my palms sweating. My breathing? Jagged, at best.

  My thoughts flashed back to the injection and tracking device placement, then the head injury from Gunther, where I faded in and out of consciousness, my limbs feeling heavy, as if they had buried me alive. Awake or knocked out, they strapped me down for any procedure.

  Thrown right to their mercy, I didn’t do so well with vulnerability.

  Regardless of the anxiety attack on the forefront, I sat upright, readying to launch off the bed. I could almost see blood pouring from the imagined wound in his neck. I may have even salivated a little bit.

  “Nope. The last time I was in one of those machines, it didn’t end well. Plain and simple, it’s not happening.”

  Dr. Twat reached for the call button. “Carlson, come in here.”

  Moments later, Erik and the female nurse walked into the tension-filled chamber. My nerves took a further nosedive. Sweat beaded up on my forehead, my hand trembling when I pushed it through my hair. My lips twitched as I worked hard to stay steady.

  “Erik, I’m not doing an MRI,” I said as he approached. “He says I have to. It’s not happening.”

  He placed one hand on my right thigh, the other holding a folder. “Just relax. Lie back and this will all be over soon.”

  I startled when I felt a hand on my left bicep. The nurse. She tightened her grip and nodded at Erik. Dr. Twat shifted and moved closer to my left thigh.

  “Wait… What the fuck is going on? Don’t I have a say in any of this?” Dr. Twat shoved his hand into his pocket. “What are you doing? Tell me what he’s doing!” I shouted, flailing in their grip.

  “Luke, calm down. This will be done soon,” Michelle said.

  “No! I don’t—”

  The doctor jabbed me in the thigh with a needle, forcing something into my body. My mind swirled, replaying awful scenes from my past…forced to rape the girl who turned undead, then carrying her to the incinerator, naked.

  “What was that?!” I yelled.

  “A sedative,” Erik said. “Like you had for the harvesting.”

  Memories kept flashing…her body tied to the sawhorse, the garbled noise that came from her throat after she turned. Both of us naked, I carried her, staring at that innocent face, which Roger had blown off half of with a gun. Mushy bits ran down my naked body, some of the gore collecting in my body hair.

  “No! This is not happening again! I won’t hurt her. No!”

  The nurse placed a hand on my chest. I caught her concerned gaze. “Luke, no one is going to hurt anyone. It’s just a scan.”

  “No! They will force me to do things! They will make me do despicable things!” I tried to slip off the bed, but my vision blurred.

  Someone’s voice warbled in my ears, as if they were delighted about my current state. “He’ll be out in about thirty seconds.”

  I couldn’t make out who was talking with all the damn blurry faces and echoing.

  “No…” Wilting, my muscles grew weaker by the second. “Shit…”

  “Just lie back,” someone said.

  “No…tie…down…,” I slurred before the blackness sucked me in.

  “Let’s make this quick,” Erik said. “Drop the rails while I go get the gurney.” He darted out of chamber, propping the door open when he went through.

  Dr. Barter stood back, watching as Michelle fussed around with Luke’s limbs before putting the rails down.

  Erik wheeled the gurney back in, stopping it right next to the bed, setting the wheel locks.

  Still standing at Luke’s side, Michelle gazed down at him, his lips moving slightly, as if he were still trying to plead his case. “What did he mean by ‘I won’t hurt her again’?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’d like to know, as well,” Dr. Barter said as both he and Michelle stared at Erik.

  A nervous chuckle slipped from his lips. “Uhh, well…” He shifted his weight a few times, pursing his lips. “Like I said, he’s a bit of a nutter.”

  “That sounded like real fear to me,” Michelle said. “Like he was having a flashback. Does he have PTSD?”

  “It’s a real possibility. Although we will let PJ determine that.”

  “Didn’t you read PJ’s notes in the chart? He stated Luke’s lips were sealed tight as a vault,” Michelle said.

  “Of course I did. Can we refocus on getting him out of here, please?”

  “Yeah, sure,” she said, moving to help transfer Luke to the gurney.

  Chapter 8

  -Gamebridge, New York-

  Even though the sun was just peeking over the horizon, Cora couldn’t fall back to sleep. She turned, facing the empty spot in the bed. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers against the chilled, unused pillow.

  She often thought about cuddling up with Gunther, waking up next to him. A small smile graced her lips as she imagined him fulfilling all her needs, physical and otherwise. Moments later, she frowned, knowing it wouldn’t happen anytime soon. The ache in her heart seemed to be a constant reminder of his distance.

  They had made great strides in their relationship, but she felt impatient. The want and need to have a full relationship with him overshadowed his issues.

  Cora was tired of the monotony.

  After flopping onto her back, she stretched and threw off the covers, then slipped out of bed. Slight shivers ran through her body. Unsure if it were nerves or the chill in the air, she pulled on a hoodie before leaving her room.

  She paused in the hall, listening for any noises coming from the kids’ rooms. Silence. Everyone was still asleep. She took a few steps, then turned and stared at Gunther’s door. She tipped her head back, looking toward the ceiling. She felt torn, overwhelmed, exhausted by circumstance.

  Cora shook her head and walked down the stairs to start a pot of coffee.

  Poking at his father’s nose, Grey giggled as Gunther swatted his hand away.

  When Gunther realized it wasn’t a bug, he groaned. “Grey Bear, you’re so cheeky. Too early for this.”

  “Up!”

  “Mate, Daddy needs some sleep. You kept me up half the night.”

  “Up, Daddy!” he said, clapping his hands.
>
  “Bloody hell…,” he grumbled, sitting up against the headboard. He rubbed his eyes. “How about we go make breakfast? Lord knows, I need some coffee.”

  “Yes! Pancakes!” Grey slipped off the bed and ran to the door, yanking it open.

  Gunther got out of bed and followed behind him, grabbing his hand so he wouldn’t fall down the stairs.

  The scent of fresh coffee filled his nose. “Oh, thank God,” he mumbled, heading toward the kitchen. Grey pulled away and ran ahead.

  “Look who’s up so early!” Cora said. Grey giggled as she picked him up, balancing him on her hip.

  Gunther stood in the doorway, watching her fawn over his boy. He loved that she treated him no differently than her biological children. When she began dancing around, singing a silly kid’s song to him, Gunther got a serious case of the warm fuzzies.

  At the same time, it was painful to watch, but the appreciation for what Cora had done for him and his son outweighed the pain of losing Quinn.

  As they spun around, Gunther smiled. She winked at him, then continued to sing and dance around.

  He mouthed, Thank you.

  Patting Grey on the bum, she said, “All right, monkey. Why don’t you go play in the living room? Daddy and I will make pancakes.” When she set him on the floor, he squealed and ran away.

  Gunther laughed. “That lad… He will be the death of me.” Smiling, Cora poured a cup of coffee and held it out to him. Taking a sip of the rich blend made him moan. “Damn… That’s good this morning.”

  “Did you sleep okay? You look…” She tilted her head, considering the dark circles under his eyes, “spent.”

  “I was sleeping fine until the little bugger bounded into my room, upset over a nightmare.”

  “Oh no…”

  “Yeah. He was scared and crying a bit. Took a while to calm him down.”

  “You should’ve woken me up.”

  “Thanks, but we were fine. He just needed a snuggle.”

  Cora smiled sadly. “I know the feeling.”

  He stepped forward and set his coffee down on the counter, then wrapped his arms around her. “You’re an amazing woman. Do you realize that?”

  “No,” she whispered, her lips fluttering at his collarbone. “I would do anything for the people I love.”

  “As would I.” He pulled away just enough to cup her chin with his hand, making her look up into his eyes.

  Desire and need burned through him. Her eyes made him weak in the knees. He found her rosy cheeks, pale skin, and the quiet innocence she possessed to be something more than extraordinary. The raw intensity fed his urges.

  He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers before whispering, “Thank you for taking care of us.”

  He stepped away, leaving her a little stunned as she touched her lips. She didn’t expect another kiss, thinking the shared affection the day before was something out of comfort.

  Gunther really intended to kiss her, and that thought made excitement defuse the torn and exhausted feelings tracking through her body. She spun around to see him pouring her a cup of coffee, a small smile on his face. He added a splash of half-and-half…just the way she liked it.

  When he turned and held the mug out to her, she felt almost silly, like a teen with a crush on a celebrity. He chuckled a little as he brushed past her. Picking up his coffee, he headed out of the kitchen to check on Grey.

  Before he made it out of the dining room, he spun around to see her watching him from the kitchen doorway. “Get to those pancakes, bird! Cinnamon, apples, and pecans. Don’t forget the bacon… Pretty please with buckets of maple syrup on top.”

  Cora laughed. “Keep it up and I’ll just hand you a box of cereal.”

  He lifted a brow. “Sassy, sassy bird. Hmm… Someone is too sassy for her own good. You best watch it. I’d hate to take you over my knee.” He smiled and walked away.

  She laughed again, feeling calm and more confident. Gunther was standing with her, stepping up and not slipping away. Changes were happening, and Cora couldn’t wait for more.

  A distant, but loud cry woke Anne. At first, she thought it was part of her dream, but soon realized it wasn’t.

  “Nicky,” she whispered.

  She wanted to run to him, prove she could properly mother a child. Keep him safe and show him delights of life that the program stole from Henry. She felt it would only be for herself, though. Nicky wouldn’t understand. She decided to stay put for a few moments, hoping Elaina would get up and take care of her son.

  As minutes ticked by, his cries grew in volume. Anne could not stand it for another second. She slipped out of bed, pushed her feet into her slippers, and headed to Nicky’s room.

  When she opened the door, the sight was pitiful. He had tossed his blankets and stuffed frog onto the floor. Nicky was red-faced, covered in tears, snot, and drool as he stood in his crib. He spoke through his sobs. “Mumma…Da-da. Mumma…Da-da.”

  “Oh, it’s okay, my sweet boy, Granny’s here to help you.” She picked him up and he settled his head on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her neck. “Let’s get you out of these wet jammies and get your nappy changed. Then I will make you breakfast.”

  She walked to his changing table and laid him down. Humming a soft tune, she tended to his needs.

  When finished, they left the room. She paused at the door of Elaina’s room, wondering if she would want to see him first thing. Shaking her head, she walked away, thinking she would deal with her later.

  Elaina woke, hearing Nicky screaming in his crib. She moaned and rubbed her eyes. Slipping out of bed, she walked to the window and lifted a slat on the blinds, the morning sunlight burning her eyes. Shielding them with a hand at her forehead, her gaze landed on what was the worst nightmare anybody could have.

  The shed.

  Her hand trembled as she dropped it to her mouth.

  The bloodstain.

  She gagged, knowing the blood came from Henry. Even if they bleached and painted over it, she would still see it.

  Her heart flip-flopped as her gaze tracked slightly to the left.

  The cross for her mother.

  The breath escaped her body, some invisible force squeezing her ribcage. The universe hated her and wanted to take away everything important in her life.

  Her father.

  Her mother.

  Her best friend.

  Her premature niece.

  Her brother.

  Her husband.

  Who would be next? Anne? Nicky? Gunther? Cora? All the kids?

  Just the thought of it made her knees go weak, legs feeling like jelly. She staggered back to the bed and dropped on the edge.

  She didn’t understand what she did wrong to piss off the universe.

  Yes, she was mouthy. Yes, she wasn’t the nicest person all the fucking time, but goddamn it! Goddamn everything that stole the lives of her beloved family members too young and too soon.

  Anne… It would take her, as well. She had to be next, but then she realized the universe had already stolen her, too.

  She was gone, drowning in a sea of despair and loneliness; however, being the woman she was, Anne would never show weakness to anyone.

  Elaina thought of her son as she choked through sobs, knowing they were all she had left. The little boy who would never remember his father. The little boy who would surely be stolen from her, just like everyone else she cared about.

  It was inevitable. That was how life worked for her.

  Pain and suffering… She had to bear witness to every bit of it.

  Henry wasn’t the best guy a girl could fall in love with, but he was hers. They belonged together, with each other. No exceptions.

  They fought hard for their relationship, even though it seemed a helpless mess at times, a bucket full of vomit, a life full of undeads creeping in the shadows.

  The bottom line was they loved each other with a fierceness no one could understand. Not even Gunther after losing Quinn. Elaina knew
she suffered more. Until her mourning ended, the bed would be where she stayed.

  Nicky cried harder, screamed louder.

  One last attempt. If she failed, she would stay put, maybe forever. She tried to stand again. Weighed down from it all, grief sat on her shoulders, crushing every ounce of life. Her body ached from head to toe, as if there were a thousand knives stabbing through every inch of skin and muscle. She rubbed her arms and legs, trying to relieve the pain.

  Dizziness overtook her head.

  She gazed over her shoulder at the door when Nicky yelled, “Mumma…Da-da!” It was so loud, it made her cringe. Hearing him scream for his father tore her up. She wanted to go to him, give him the comfort he needed, explain to him that Daddy was gone. But she couldn’t.

  She had no energy. The well was empty, seemingly never to refill again.

  Tears dripped from her eyes, bile rose in her throat. Her teeth began chattering as she felt more pain, more despair.

  She couldn’t do life. She couldn’t be a mother right now…or anytime soon. She needed time to learn how to breathe again. Time to learn how to love herself, even if she destroyed everything around her. It was her time. Her need. Her want to sift through the agony and try to find a way out of this fucking nightmare Henry put her in.

  She crawled back under the covers, the blankets feeling too heavy for her weakened arms. Curling up into a ball, she lay shivering, sobs wracking her one breath at a time.

  As the distorted sanctuary seemed to suck her in, the sound of Anne’s slippered footsteps shuffled past the doorway. Elaina gasped, hearing Nicky’s torturous cries when the door to his room opened. The whisper of his granny consoling him made a few more tears run from her eyes.

  Moments later, Nicky calmed to only a whimper here and there. The sound hammered at her mind, forcing her soul to bleed out the last drop, squeezed and wrung out to dry.

  Elaina flung her arm out to Henry’s side of the bed, searching for his journal. Grasping it, she reached over to the nightstand and flicked the switch on the small bedside lamp.

  When she opened the book, the picture of Henry and her fell out. She rubbed her fingertip over his face before putting it back between the pages for safekeeping. She missed being able to touch him, hold him, feel him near her body, even if he were a chore on most days. Even when he abused her, she still wanted to have him close to her heart.