Full Circle (Shattered Lives, Book Five)

by Rissa Blakeley

  The crowd stared, dumbstruck. Without even sipping her champagne, she set the glass on the mantel, pushed her way through the crowd, and ran out the front door.

  “Shit,” Gunther whispered. Anne started after her, but Gunther held up his hand. “I’ve got her.” The crowd moved, allowing him the room he needed to pass by.

  When he made it outside and jogged down the porch steps, he saw her rounding the far corner of her house, heading toward the back…where the shed was located.

  “Elaina!” he shouted, garnering no response. “Elaina!”

  She spun around, tears streaming down her face. “What?!” she screamed roughly.

  “Where are you going?” he asked when he caught up to her.

  “None of your business.”

  “Oh, hell fucking no. We are not going to do this.”

  “Do what, Gunther?!”

  He grabbed her arm. “Make a fool of yourself by acting like a spoilt brat.”

  She jammed her finger into her chest. “This is me right now. This is how I’m grieving. Whether you view me as spoilt,” she mocked in his accent, “or not, I…don’t…give…a…fuck.”

  “How dare you,” he said, shaking his head, firming his grip. “You turned a beautiful moment for all of us into one all about yourself. That rant of yours in front of his family, friends, co-workers, and clients… That was disgusting!”

  “Don’t yell at me!” she bit back, standing tall.

  “Do you understand you are not the only one upset over his death?”

  “He was my husband, my lover…my best friend for years. He kept me safe, saving me when I needed saving.” She jammed a finger into his breastbone. “You abused him when he needed guidance and was nothing more than a lost boy, a puppet forced to perform in a war only one wanted.”

  Gunther clenched his jaw. “Yeah, I’m well aware of my role. Thanks for the reminder.”

  “He was nothing more than a pawn in this bullshit game of greed! The heavy price he paid was his sanity. He was broken, never to be well. The times he turned that anger on me, I was scared out of my mind. That’s when I knew there was zero hope of getting back the man I thought I knew. But I tried. I tried so goddamn hard to help him find himself. To give him the guidance and encouragement he needed. To support him through every bout of insanity he threw at me. I thought having Nicky would make him feel settled and secure, but no. Instead of focusing on the goodness around him, he worried he would turn out like his own father.” She struggled, trying to free herself from his harsh grip.

  “How can you stand here and act like an immature bitch, spewing all his flaws instead of burying those for the time being so everyone else can see, hear, and feel what Henry brought to this world. It’s not about his issues. It’s about what he did to make us love him.” Not wanting to waste any more energy discussing Henry’s mental issues, Gunther said, “You need to understand he wasn’t just your husband. He was also a friend, a brother, a son, and a father. This isn’t all about you and the time and effort you spent trying to help him. You are the one being selfish. I’m so pissed at the way you’re treating Anne, dumping Nicky on her. Grow the fuck up and be a mother to your son!”

  “You have a lot of nerve reading me the riot act, Mr. Stay-Locked-In-Your-Room-For-Months!”

  “Yeah, and tell me what good it did for Grey by doing that. I was absent while there. No heart, no emotion, no living. Just going through the motions…until Henry called me on it.”

  Elaina yanked her arm one last time, breaking free. She pointed in Gunther’s face. “Don’t ever try to take my anger away from me. I am allowed to hate what he did.” She spun around and stormed off toward the shed.

  Gunther started after her, stopping when Elaina dropped to her knees in front of the very spot Henry put a bullet in his head. She reached out, her fingertips gently touching the siding, then she began to claw at the bloodstain.

  He headed toward her. When he was just about fifteen feet away, she belted out a harrowing scream, tearing at his every fiber. Tears filled his eyes as he covered his mouth with his hands.

  “Jesus Christ,” he whispered. He felt bad about infringing on her personal moment, as she exposed her raw grief, but he needed to keep an eye on her. He owed Henry that much.

  Elaina stood and threw her arms out at her sides, fists clenched. She buckled over, screaming once more. As she panted, her wilted body began to straighten. She stood strong and devout to whatever thoughts and determinations ran through her head. Marching around and into the shed, she came back out with a sledgehammer.

  First thing she hit was Henry’s motorcycle. Ten swings later, it lay there, nothing more than scrap metal, leaking fluids all over the lawn. She turned, slung the heavy tool over her shoulder, and stalked back to the side of the shed. Her lips moved, maybe whispering a confession or even a prayer? He wasn’t about to ask for fear of how she would react. He liked his body intact and wanted to keep it that way.

  Hearing footsteps behind him, Gunther gazed over his shoulder.

  “I heard her scream,” Cora said. “I wanted to make sure everything…” She narrowed her gaze at Elaina. “What is she doing?”

  He turned back, seeing Elaina had the sledgehammer up like a baseball bat, aiming right for the shed. “Oh shit…,” Gunther whispered.

  “Should we stop her?” Cora asked, wrapping her hand around his bicep, squeezing as her nerves started tweaking.

  “No. She’d probably try to hit us with it if we got in the way. She needs to get this out. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get hurt.”

  Cora nodded, leaning her head on his arm.

  Once again, Elaina let out a howl of a warrior and swung the sledgehammer, putting a hole in the side of the shed. The very same spot they found Henry. It stuck in the wood, but she tugged it free, raising it and swinging again, repeatedly, until the once sturdy building began to give way.

  The shed swayed, but she didn’t care. She just kept swinging and swinging and swinging…

  Seeing it slowly start to lean, Gunther ran over and wrapped an arm around her body, moving her out of the way.

  CRASH!

  Elaina panted, her body quaked, her gaze darted around wildly, the sledgehammer still in her grip.

  “Hey, love… Why don’t you calm down? How about we drop the hammer?”

  “No,” Elaina growled, fighting to free herself from Gunther’s embrace.

  Once she broke free, she ran back to the fallen shed and began striking the roof, putting hole after hole in it.

  Oddly enough, Gunther understood. He would have loved to destroy something to this caliber, maybe even beyond…like, blow shit up and slaughter every man who wronged him.

  Another swing, the sledgehammer sticking into the wood. Elaina growled and tugged on it with all her might. Gunther walked over and grabbed her just as she started to fall to the ground.

  “I’ve got you, love.”

  She looked up into his chemical-laden eyes. A frown appeared as Elaina began to cry. Wrapping his arms around her, he tried to provide comfort.

  She sobbed to the point that she vomited, just missing his pants and shoes. He wanted to cry with her, scream for the injustice of it all.

  When she was able to stand on her own, Gunther looked up, catching Cora’s horrified stare. He looked back at Elaina.

  “Do you feel better now that you got that out?”

  She shook her head.

  He reached for her, but she shrugged him off, whispering something he couldn’t hear. “What was that?”

  Once again, she balled her hands into fists and let out another scream, her voice growing hoarse. “I’m so angry!”

  “Understandable.”

  “I hate what he did! I hate him!”

  “Love, don’t say that. You don’t mean it.”

  Elaina turned and, with absolute fury in her eyes, stared him down. “Do not tell me how I can or cannot feel. This is my grief.”

  Gunther held up his hands. “I’m ju
st saying don’t say things that will hurt everyone.”

  “He…hurt…me!” she screamed, jabbing her thumb into her chest. “He hurt me so many times! I stood by his side, even when he sexually assaulted me. His own mother wanted to call the police, but I refused to allow him to go to jail because I knew he would die in there. I needed him, even in his weakness. Maybe I’m selfish, but only because I wanted him to live. I needed him. He left us… He left our son…”

  As she grew weary, Gunther took a step toward her, wanting to be there just in case she collapsed again. He gazed over to where Cora stood, seeing an audience forming.

  “Shit.” He hoped no one had heard the sexual assault part.

  Sucking in a hard breath, Elaina continued. “I did everything I could to save him. I tried so fucking hard to spare him from his agony. I tried to make it my own. I tried to love him through it. I helped detox him after years of abusing alcohol. I sought out help by taking him to a doctor to help with his OCD issues and the voices in his head. No matter what I did, no matter how many tears I shed, he still betrayed me! He did this to us! He did this! He hurt us! He tore us apart!”

  “You are one hundred present correct,” he said. “I was there, Elaina. I saw the valiant effort you put in.”

  “I allowed him to take advantage of my love. Allowed him to manipulate me day in, day out! I am allowed to be angry with him and the situation and hate him for what he did!”

  When she finally quieted, her lips quivered and tears poured from her eyes. Her hands trembled as she brought them up to her face.

  “Love…” Gunther took two long strides and grabbed Elaina, pulling her to his body.

  As he stroked her hair, she sobbed into his chest. He couldn’t contain his own sadness. He stepped away and cupped her face in his big hands. Shaking his head, he bit down on his lip, hoping to keep from sobbing, as well.

  “You’re right, and I am so sorry. You have every right to be angry and feel this hatred. To grieve in this manner. Seeing you so torn up is hard for me to witness. You’ve been there for me all the times I needed you. You and Henry were the strength I didn’t have.”

  “I love him so much,” she whispered through jagged breaths. “I love him. I love him…” She trailed off, choking.

  “I know. We all know how much you love him. Everything you did for him. All the time you took trying to do right by him.”

  “I was a good wife.”

  “You were an amazing wife, sweetheart.”

  “What am I going to do?” She sucked in a shaky breath. “How do I tell Nicky what happened?”

  “I don’t know, but please understand we are all here for you. Don’t shut us out. Allow us to help.”

  “I’m not ready yet.”

  “And that’s okay. When you’re ready to live again, we will all be here to hold your hand. Okay?”

  She nodded and turned around, looking at the shed, then at the small crowd that had formed, watching her meltdown, listening to some of Henry’s dirtiest secrets.

  “Excuse me,” she whispered, pushing past Gunther. She shielded her face with her hands, stormed through the crowd, and jogged up the front steps of her porch.

  When the front door slammed shut, everyone jumped. Cora stared at him, watching the agony swallow him whole.

  Whispers began. Cora took it upon herself to usher everyone away. “If you could, please go back to our house. Enjoy the refreshments. We’ll be with you in a moment.”

  The crowd parted and walked away, leaving Anne standing in the middle, looking worse for wear. “I-I’m lost. I don’t even know what to think.”

  Cora rubbed Anne’s shoulders. “She’s just letting out her anger and frustration. I’m sure she doesn’t hate him.”

  “That was my lad. I gave birth to him, nursed him… I did what I could for him, even when my hands were tied.”

  “I know. You did the best you could for him.” Cora rolled her lips into her mouth. “Why don’t you go back to our house? You should eat something.” She gestured to the remnants of the shed. “Gunther and I will work out a time we can get this cleaned up.”

  Anne nodded, wiping away her tears. She turned and followed the rest of the crowd.

  Cora spun back around and stared at the man who had stolen her heart. He struggled, fighting the tears wanting to escape. She rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Hey… It’s okay,” she whispered, her lips fluttering against his neck. “Let it out. It’s just you and me now.”

  “God, this fucking sucks,” he said, resting a palm at the small of her back.

  “You’re absolutely right. You lost your brother.” She pulled back and stared into his tear-filled eyes. “This is a terrible time for you, too.”

  “My chest is tight. I’d love to have a moment to release these pent-up emotions, but I have to be an adult. Raise a family, support all who need me, including the fucking gym. I don’t have time to do this…” He waved his hand at the pile of splintered boards and motorcycle parts. “Any of this.”

  “You need to make time for yourself. Even if it’s just beating the bag. I don’t want to see you end up like Elaina. Okay?”

  “Yeah. Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” She gazed up at him. He leaned down, touching his forehead to hers. “We will get through this together,” she said before brushing her lips across his. “I love you.”

  “Yeah,” he whispered, shaking his head.

  Chapter 22

  -East End of London-

  The words rang through my mind while I stared anywhere but at his face.

  PJ asked again, as if I weren’t paying attention the first two times. “Have you ever contemplated or attempted suicide?”

  I took another long moment to ponder how to get out of this bloody predicament.

  I could easily kill him with the pen he held. A perfect weapon. I watched as he tapped the point on the edge of his notepad, most likely leaving little tiny dots of black ink behind.

  As he began to scratch down another note, I craned my neck to see what he wrote. He quirked a brow at me, then shook his head and continued writing. I imagined he jotted down some seriously descriptive words.

  Nutter.

  Deranged.

  Unbalanced.

  Maniac.

  Delusional.

  Bonkers.

  Daft.

  Just to name a few.

  “Luke?” He laid his hand on my shoulder.

  Startling, I said, “Yes.”

  “Yes? As is you have contemplated or attempted suicide?” I nodded. “Frequently?”

  Maybe I should’ve told him about the incident at the gun range when I was a teen. The many nights of devastating thoughts and feelings after Sophie talked me out of eating lead. Some days, I wondered if we all would’ve been better off if she weren’t there to stop me.

  Maybe I should’ve told him about the time Elaina dumped me and I got completely pissed up and held a gun to my head.

  But mostly, I wondered what he would think if I told him about the incident in the barn with the empty gun.

  It didn’t matter. His opinion about me was the last thing I needed to worry about.

  “Yes,” I said, exhaling a loud sigh.

  He nodded. “I think that is enough for today. When I see you tomorrow, I want a list of positive things in your life.” There was no helping it. I burst into a full belly laugh. He narrowed his gaze at me. “Why do you find that amusing?”

  “Maybe you’ve missed my current situation.”

  “I miss nothing, Luke. I’m much more observant than you realize.” He tucked his little notebook back inside his tweed jacket. He smiled and held out the pen. “I saw you look at my pen at least five times. You were contemplating how to use it against me.”

  Holy fucking hell. Telepathic motherfucker. “Piss off,” I grumbled.

  “Am I wrong?” he asked. When I didn’t respond, he smiled, tucking the pen into his jacket. “I hope you do well with
your treatment today.”

  When he turned his back to me, my thoughts swirled, beginning to spin out of control.

  The demons cackled.

  Kill him.

  The loudness of those two words deafened me, dampening any other thoughts parading through my mind. I looked down at my body as I began to scooch toward the side of the bed. Sadly, the monitors attached to me halted any further movements.

  A blessing in disguise, I suppose. Otherwise, I would have stabbed that motherfucker with his pen.

  A moment later, PJ walked out of my death chamber alive, well, and not at all oblivious. Instead of leaving, he stepped into view, leaning against the frame of the observation window, chatting on his phone. He jabbered on for a minute or so before dropping it back into his jacket pocket.

  The next thing I knew, Erik and my daytime nurse stood at the window, all of them chatting. When PJ walked away, both turned and gazed at me. Erik said something, then the nurse nodded and walked away.

  Erik came through the decontamination stall, holding another bag of anti-serum, this one bluer than the last. I began to wonder if I would turn into a “Smurf”.

  “Hey, mate. Glad to see you looking good today. I see Dr. Barter swapped out the mask for the nasal cannula. That’s a real positive.”

  I rolled my eyes and muttered, “Yeah. It’s bloody great.”

  He hung the bag on the pole. “I just had a chat with PJ—”

  “I’m not blind. I saw. If you want more privacy for your little chats in the foyer, you should put up some curtains.”

  “Right.” He cleared his throat. “He wants you on suicide watch twenty-four/seven.”