“Apart from the obvious, Mr. Richards.”
“Luke,” I growled.
He glanced at Erik. “Start the treatments first thing tomorrow. Ms. Fogerty, monitor him for concussion symptoms. Note your findings in the chart, along with anything else that happens.” As he turned on his heel and headed to the door, he said, “Oh, and Mr. Carlson? I would like to speak to you in private.” He touched the print reader and walked into the decontamination chamber, the door shutting behind him.
Erik glared as he pointed at me. “Do not make me regret bringing you here. I could’ve very easily picked someone else.”
“Because it’s such a peachy fucking experience.”
“And we haven’t even started your treatments yet,” he snarled.
“Well, this is a bit awkward,” Michelle whispered, walking away and cleaning up the suture supplies.
“Whatever,” I mumbled.
“I’m putting you on notice. If Dr. Barter leaves, I will personally hold you accountable. I will throw you out in the fucking street, stripping your identity away. Good luck after that.”
“Such a savage beast,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.
“Grow up and stop acting like a pigheaded teen.” He shook his head. “I’ll have Tess bring in a smoothie for you.”
The moment Erik stormed out, PJ approached the bed. “I think we need to focus on what’s causing this anger to take over your entire being.”
Admittedly, I was being a dick. It was easier to keep everyone at arm’s length and out of my fucked-up head. “Yeah…maybe, but as it was pointed out to me not too long ago, it could very well be the virus. So we’ll go with that…unless it’s just part of my personality.”
“I want you to give it some serious thought. I think you will find it rewarding to speak about what’s going on in your mind. I hope you heal quickly.”
He walked out, leaving just the nurse, who was busy mopping up my blood, and me. Once she cleaned and put everything away, she said, “I’ll be back in a bit to check your vitals. If you have an emergency, hit the red call switch.”
“Yeah…thanks.”
And there I was, alone, my demons cackling away in my head.
Chapter 11
-Gamebridge, New York-
The blue-gray glow from the laptop screen lit up the bedroom. Phone pressed to her ear, Elaina drummed her fingers on the edge of the keyboard, on hold for the funeral director. After Anne called the hospital, she gave her the number of the funeral home that would take care of the arrangements. It also happened to be the only one open within a fifty-mile radius.
Elaina had spent a few hours online, looking for inspiration. Ordering the urn seemed surreal. At some point, she would order a cross for Henry to place near her mother’s grave.
Finding exactly what she felt was perfect, she wanted to make a special request for the urn. Something personal—words that would always be a reminder of the love they shared.
“Come on…,” she mumbled, staring at the image of the urn.
“Mrs. Daniels?”
“Finally. I’ve been on hold for, like, a half-hour.”
“I do apologize, Mrs. Daniels, but we are very busy and low on staff.”
“Yeah, I bet,” she grumbled.
“How can I help you today?”
“I want to order my husband’s urn, and would like an inscription added, as well.”
“Let me get a pen… Okay. Go ahead.”
Elaina rattled off her wishes. When she hung up, she felt anxious, but exhausted. She slammed the laptop’s lid shut, then set it on Henry’s side of the bed. Reaching out, she grabbed his journal so she could read the final entries again.
She turned on the bedside lamp and shuddered as she opened to the page containing his letter to her. Reading his instructions carefully, Elaina knew she mourned him just how he expected her to. Pain built in her chest, feeling as if a stack of bricks had been placed on her, making breathing difficult.
Maybe it was a heart attack.
Good, she thought, feeling tired of the agony controlling her body.
Losing Henry drained her emotional and physical being. Hopelessness was about the only thing she could bring herself to feel, driving her into the endless black abyss cradling her soul.
She worried for Nicky, wondering what she would tell him as he grew older. Maybe she would lie, telling him his fearless father died in an endless fight to protect them.
No… She couldn’t do that.
Henry’s death was a cop-out. A kick in her stomach. He didn’t want to deal with life anymore, so he just pulled the proverbial plug and walked away, leaving her to face every day alone and tired, already worn thin from battling all his issues.
She was the brave one.
She was the one who opened doors and jumped in, not knowing what lay behind, waiting to feast on all her weariness.
As the anger washed over her, Elaina realized one thing…
Henry felt hopelessness, as well.
“Why would you do this to us?” she asked in a whisper.
The unforgiving pain he felt had always been an echo in his heart and mind. Maybe he had the right idea. Finding an escape. Living on in memories. Those could never hurt a loved one…unlike his actions.
It was hardly plausible Henry would’ve ever lived a life outside the illnesses in his head, but now… He was cured.
Cured from the virus, the mental anguish, the uncontrolled volume of anger burning straight through his veins, setting fire to all the sensibilities one expected a man to have. All of which made her fear that side of him.
On top of all that, he had his demons. He no longer had to combat the words those fuckers slung at him on a constant basis.
Elaina closed the journal and laid it on her chest, unable to read the entries for Nicky, Anne, and Gunther. She slapped her hands over her face. Regardless of the pain he had caused her, she didn’t want to believe Henry was gone. A part of her hoped he would walk through the door, a wicked spark in his eye, the impish half-grin lifting his lips, the usual swagger in his step.
Elaina missed him, all of him, even the worst parts.
She moaned and pulled his pillow over her face, still not feeling up to being part of the living anytime soon.
With a heavy sigh, Gunther sat at the dining room table. He scrubbed his face in an attempt to erase the fatigue and weariness the shower he had taken couldn’t wash away. Glancing down at his watch, he figured ten AM would be late enough to start making calls.
The first on his list was Josie Patterson, the young woman he had saved while on his way to find Henry. The one who made him understand DNA didn’t define familial relationships.
Cora peered out of the kitchen doorway. “Do you want the last cup of coffee?”
Maybe it would help bring him out of his funk. Then again, he wasn’t so sure anything would. “Yeah. That would be great. Thanks.”
She ducked back into the kitchen and, moments later, brought out a cup of steaming, black coffee. Pausing, she watched Gunther. His struggle was obvious—his eyelids lowered, face drawn tight as he rested his head against his fist, slowly spinning his cell phone on the table.
Approaching from behind, she set the cup on the table in front of him. He was in need of comfort and affection only she could provide. She placed her arm over his shoulder, resting her palm over his heart. Visibly relaxing under her touch, she pressed her lips to the top of his head.
“I have so much faith in you, Gun. You are allowed to feel sick over this for however long you need. You can’t conquer the world alone. I just want to remind you to ask for help when it’s needed.”
He closed his eyes, the tears tracking down his cheeks. Drawing in a shaky breath, he let it out just as unsteadily.
“I’m here for you. I will hold you together for as long as you need it. Okay?” She placed a kiss next to his ear.
“Yeah. Thanks,” was about all he could manage. He reached up and held her hand, accepting the
warmth radiating from her. Turning slightly, placing his face next to hers, he brushed his lips across her cheek.
“Ewww!” Gunther and Cora jumped and looked over their shoulders. Silas stood in the doorway of the dining room. “Gross! I wanted a snack, but I’ve lost my appetite!” He stomped off into the living room.
They both broke out in a hearty laugh.
“I needed that,” he said, wiping the tears from his face.
“Me, too.” She patted him on the shoulder.
“I need to get in touch with Josie. She hasn’t called in a while. I want to let her know about…” Once more, he sucked in a deep breath, letting out a quiet string of expletives. “About Henry.”
“Okay. I’ll leave you be. Holler if you need me.”
As she walked into the kitchen, he watched her hips shift in a fitted, blue-and-green paisley dress. One he hadn’t seen on her before.
“Cora?”
She peeked back around the doorway. He swallowed hard as he took in the deep V-neck, plunging low enough to show how full her breasts were. His pants became an issue, constricting his growing arousal.
“Hmm?” she said with an innocence he wanted to spoil.
“You look fit in that dress. Is it new?”
A warm flush bloomed on her cheeks. “Thank you. I hope you don’t mind. I probably should’ve asked beforehand, but I bought a few new things now that the baby weight has come off.”
“If it’s all like that one, I’m down with handing over my accounts to you.” She smiled. “It’s brill. Can’t wait to see what else you bought.”
Casting her gaze down, she bit her bottom lip, feeling his compliments were more than she deserved. “Thank you.”
He nodded, stifling a groan, wanting to do so many inappropriate things to that mouth and valley between her soft flesh. She spun back into the kitchen.
“Suffering hell,” he whispered, shaking his head. “That bird is going to give this man a heart attack.”
He picked up his phone and pulled up Josie’s contact information. Putting it to his ear, he wrapped his hand around the cup of coffee. Just when he thought he would have to leave a voicemail, she answered.
“Hello?” The groggy sound to her voice sent him into a downward spiral of worry and fear.
He sat straight up in the chair. “Lass? Are you okay? You haven’t called in a bit and I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m in the hospital. The reception has been sketchy.”
Gunther gasped and his eyes widened. Panic settled in all around him, making him twitchy. He fired off a bunch of questions. “What’s wrong? Is the baby okay? Is it you? Do I need to come down there and gut that boyfriend of yours? Please tell me everything will be okay…,” he begged, then whispered, “I can’t handle much more than that right now.” The emotions welled in his throat, choking off any sort of rationality, as he thought of all the possible scenarios she and the baby could be facing.
“Okay, Daaaad,” she said with a playful annoyance. “You know Jake is a good man.”
“I know. I just worry about you. Fair enough?”
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m not great, but that’s to be expected. There’s nothing wrong. The doctors just want to monitor me and put me on bedrest for a while.”
“So why are you in the hospital? Can’t you rest at home? Is he not taking care of you? One of us can fly down there and help… Not sure how things would work around here, but we’d figure it out.”
Josie laughed. “You’re worse than Jake.”
Gunther chuckled. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. The doctor said I’m too little to carry the…babies to term.”
A long second passed as he processed the words. His eyes widened at the realization. “Wait… Babies? As in more than one?”
“Yes. We are having twins.” The smile in her voice was unmistakable.
He gasped. “Fucking hell, lass!” As he leapt out of the chair, it crashed to the floor behind him. He tipped the phone away from his mouth and yelled sharply, “Cora!”
“What?!” She rushed out of the kitchen, terror in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Twins! My lass is having twins!” he said with pride. Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, Cora’s eyes watered. He put the phone back over his mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Josie laughed again. “Jake and I wanted to surprise you.”
After picking up the chair and watching Gunther pace the room, Cora tugged at his arm. “Are they okay?”
“Tell Cora everyone is fine. They just want to monitor us for any distress since I’m getting closer to my due date. They said I’m so small, I’ll probably have a C-section.”
“Lass… You have me worried.”
“We’re fine, Dad! I’m actually looking at the monitor right now and both their hearts are beating perfectly.”
“That’s good. Very good. You tell Jake to call or message me the moment you have those babies. I want pictures. Loads of them.”
“Of course.”
After Gunther sat back in the chair, Cora rubbed his shoulder, then walked toward the kitchen. He watched her walk off, once again distracted by the way the dress fit her body.
Shaking it off, he rubbed his head, remembering why he had originally called. He thought maybe he should talk to Jake about Henry, fearing the news would stress Josie too much in her delicate state.
“Is Jake there?”
“No. He’s at work, but he’ll be here when he’s done. We eat dinner and watch TV until he needs to go home to get some sleep for work the next day.”
He let out a loud sigh. “I need to tell you something. It’s not any sort of good news. In fact, it’s downright terrible. Can you handle that in your condition, or should I call Jake?”
“I can handle it. No matter what these doctors think, I’m not fragile.”
“I definitely know that, lass. You are one of the toughest women I know. I just… Shit.” He scratched at his bearded jaw. “Listen…” He paused.
“Just say it,” Josie encouraged.
Gunther blew out a breath. “Henry committed suicide a couple days ago.”
“What?!”
“Lass, please, don’t get worked up. I should’ve called Jake. I’m sorry.”
“How? Why? What happened?”
“Gunshot to the head.” A strong shiver coursed through his body, making him let out a shuddering breath.
“Jesus…”
“He and Elaina had been having some serious issues. I can’t even get into it, but the stuff he did to her was bad.”
“Like what?”
“Abuse…,” he whispered, covering his eyes. He cleared his throat. “He had so many issues stacked on top of everything, but it seemed like he was finally getting back on track.”
“First, I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“To be honest, I’m shocked. I remember Nick telling me he and Elaina spent time trying to talk Henry out of doing it once, but it turned out to be an empty gun. Nick was still furious over it and made me promise never to tell her.”
Gunther closed his eyes for a moment. “He was so mixed up. So many things were wrong with him.”
“It’s not your fault, Gunther,” she murmured.
“Lass, don’t make me cry again.”
Josie chuckled. “Okay, fine…” She trailed off into a yawn. “Deep down, I know Henry was a good guy.”
“Agreed. Listen, I’m going to let you go. You sound knackered.”
“Thanks for calling and letting me know. Please tell Anne and Elaina how sorry we are for their loss.”
“I will. Love you, Lass. I miss you so much.”
“Love and miss you, too. Once those babies are ready, we’ll work out a time to see each other.”
“Absolutely,” he said. “You will always have a place to stay here.”
“Thanks. Bye.”
“Bye.”
When the call disconnected, Gunther
started calling around to find an accountant to help him with the books and payroll at Edge.
Chapter 12
-East End of London-
I woke to the door opening. “Well, good morning to our ever delightful Mr. Richards.”
Groaning at Dr. Twat, I pushed myself up against the head of the bed. Christ, I was fucking spent. My head pounded, my body stiff… I was in serious need of a dose. I blinked and squinted as he walked up to me.
“Here’s a cup of lovely red juice for you. Down it, then I will hook this up.” He held up an IV bag containing a milky-blue liquid.
“What’s that?” I pointed at it before reaching for the cup.
He held out the bag and shook it. “This? Oh, no worries. It’s just the anti-serum Mr. Carlson and Ms. Simms have been working on day and night for months, but you wouldn’t know that, would you? You ungrateful cunt.”
Glaring, I downed the blood and handed the cup back to him. Any more lip and the doctor would surely meet the Luke I feared.
Slice open his throat.
The demons chuckled, the whispered command making me twist my head a bit, my gaze still locked on his.
Sadly, the nurse came in to check my vitals, interrupting our staring contest. Her gaze ticked back and forth between Dr. Twat and me. “Everything all right?”
“Dandy,” I muttered, breathing through my blood high.
She inclined her head slightly at Dr. Twat. “Once I take his vitals, I can hook up his IV.”
“Perfect.” He hung the bag on the IV pole next to the bed and walked out of my chamber.
“Thank you for that,” I said, easing back down into the blankets, enjoying the side effects the blood gave me. I hoped she didn’t notice my raging hard-on.
The whispers grew louder.
What are you waiting for? Release the pent-up pressure.
Enjoy the moment while you await the torture in the IV bag.
My gaze flickered to the milky-blue substance hanging an arm’s length away. I tried to hush them as I enjoyed the buzz in my nerves, freedom in my movements, the haze bringing relief, even to the ache in my head.
“Luke?”
Someone… A woman called for me, the voice soft and sweet. I felt my lips curl into a smile of their own accord.
Full Circle (Shattered Lives, Book Five) Page 10