Full Circle (Shattered Lives, Book Five)

by Rissa Blakeley

  I looked around for something to vomit in, but I ran out of time. Just as I leaned over the edge of the bed, my stomach violently emptied itself.

  The best part? I lost all strength. As I was about to tumble over the edge and swim in the mucky puddle, Michelle dashed out of the loo, skidding to a stop before stepping in it. She grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back onto the bed.

  “Thanks.” With the back of my hand, I swiped the drool from my mouth. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine, but the side rails stay up from now on.” Once she put the rails back up, she rushed over to the cabinets and brought back a roll of paper towels and a bottle of cleaner.

  I was fucking miserable. We had been going at this for a few months and the progress seemed far slower than it should have been. The anger, the sadness, the anxiety, the depression worked together, building a wall, keeping me locked in a prison.

  The door opened, Erik walking in.

  Perfect.

  “Good mor—” He stopped when he saw Michelle on her hands and knees, cleaning the floor.

  Without looking up, she said, “He was sick and couldn’t make it to the loo.”

  “Ah. I see.” He faced me, drawing his lips together tightly.

  When Michelle finished, she walked to the sink and washed her hands. When she came back, Erik said, “Check his vitals, please.”

  She grabbed my chart and went through, checking me, jotting down notes. She passed it to Erik and stood there, waiting for some sort of instruction. Meanwhile, I could barely keep my eyes open.

  Not looking up, flipping through the chart, Erik shook his head. “You seem to be at the same level for the past three days, excluding the vomiting.” He closed the chart and looked at me. “I will consult with Dr. Barter and discuss another round of anti-serum for tomorrow.”

  I sighed, slapping my hands over my face. So many questions came to mind.

  When would it end?

  When would karma stop fucking with me?

  Would this treatment finally be the one that sends my body into a cycle of healthiness?

  Erik wrapped a hand around my forearm, pulling it down so he could get a good look at me. “I know, but the harder we go at this, the better off you’ll be. Be confident about the treatments. They are working. The last brain scan showed us that.”

  “But the harder we go at this, the sicker I will be. I just want to go home.” Admittedly, I felt sorry for myself and whined like a baby, but fuck me. I was tired of the bullshit.

  Michelle took my hand and rubbed the back with her thumb. “We are going to get you better and send you home healthy.”

  I yanked my hand away, feeling furious over the continued patronizing. My resentment surged, rage tickling the threshold.

  “Look at me!” I shouted. “We’ve been going at this for how long now? It feels like a bloody fucking eternity! The only good thing is you removed the monitors, but I’m still tied to this fucking IV!” I yanked on it, making the stand move. “I have a therapist who says I have psychosis and must be babysat twenty-four/fucking seven. I’ve lost so much weight, I look disgusting. I’m paler than ever.” I pointed to my eyes. “Look at the dark circles. They stretch to my chin, for fuck’s sake. I can barely eat or move, and…” I waved my arm at the exercise equipment. “And that shit mocks me, especially when Michelle uses them.”

  They both stared at me, undisturbed, not even shocked at my outburst.

  “We can remove them, if you’d like. I try to only use them when you’re sleeping.”

  “That’s not the point!” I fired back, the tingle in my head spreading.

  “Calm down,” she murmured.

  “Calm down? Yeah fucking right. I’m stuck in this fucking death chamber while my wife thinks I offed myself. I only knew my mum for a few years. What must she feel? And my son…” My voice hitched, my chin trembling in the fight to stop my emotions. Fuck it. Exhausted, I gave in and broke down.

  “I’m going to leave. Holler if you need me.” Erik turned and left, giving me privacy.

  Sitting on the bed next to me, Michelle wrapped her arms around me, holding my pallid body as I sobbed.

  “I miss them so much. I hate what I did to them. I fucking hate myself for breaking them like I’m broken.”

  I clung to her body as if she were my only hope for strength. At this point in the game, she was all I had.

  “I know you do. I can see how much this is affecting you.” She pulled away and held my face in her hands. “You need to be strong for them. You have to get through this treatment not only for yourself, but for them. Your strength is astounding. I wish you could see that.”

  “I’m a great actor, Michelle. I’ve been doing it for years. What you see as strength is fucking fake.” I lay back on the pillow. “Do you even know about my illness?”

  “You know I don’t. They said it was classified information.”

  I burst out laughing, wiping away the tears. “That’s a good one.” I had a thought. Maybe I could use her curiosity as leverage. “You want to know?”

  “Of course I do, but I don’t want to infringe on anything I shouldn’t. I need this job.”

  I glanced toward the observation window. We were alone. “I will tell you…if you take me around the facility.”

  “The lab?”

  I shook my head. “No. The entire building.”

  “You know I can’t do that!” she huffed. “Why would you even try?”

  “Come on.”

  She waved her hands, effectively striking my idea down. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Why not?”

  “A few reasons. One, if I get caught, I get fired. Two, you’re too weak to walk. Three, there are a lot of germs. You don’t need to get a cold right now. It would kill you.”

  “I’m already dying, ’Chelle. I die a little more every day. Every day that this treatment doesn’t work, I flake away bit by bit.”

  “The treatment is working, Luke. While you are still very ill, the scans prove the results. The fact you’re still alive months later tells me it’s helping. When you got here, they only gave you days to a week of survival.”

  “Please…,” I begged. “I need to get out of here for a few minutes. Erik has me cooped up in this room. I promise I won’t try to do anything crazy like leave.”

  “You can’t anyway. Your prints won’t work on the security pads.”

  “See…”

  Her gaze was unyielding, but she also looked worried. She pursed her lips and shook her head. “And you won’t say anything if I go through with this?”

  “It will be our secret. I will even rest beforehand, like a good little patient.” She glared at me. “I just want to have a look around before the next treatment. It could kill me.”

  “Fine. Be ready at midnight.”

  “What will we do about Joseph?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”

  The corner of my mouth lifted as a lazy smile spread across my face. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

  She pointed at me. “I don’t like this one bit, and I cannot believe I’m agreeing to it.”

  “I know, but you love me so much, you want to make me happy.”

  “You’re a dodgy bastard, Luke.”

  I laughed, then had to stop abruptly when my belly revolted again.

  After the shift change, Michelle watched the clock on her bedside table. 11:50 PM. She could only read and surf the web so much in between the anxiety about her upcoming adventure with Luke.

  She flopped on her back and gazed up at the top bunk, wondering why the place looked like a dormitory.

  Thoughts of how to make this happen swirled in her mind. While it was dangerous for his health, she agreed he needed to get out a little, even if just down the hall from the lab. It would do him good mentally. That in itself could be healing. At the very least, it would give him something to look forward to instead of always being stuck in the “death chamber”, as he called
it.

  When an idea struck, she smiled, giggling, knowing exactly what she would do.

  Michelle rolled out of bed and left her room, walking down to the clinic.

  Careful not to disturb anything, she opened the large cabinets that held the medications. Sifting through the boxes and bottles, she found a heavy sedative. Shaking the bottle of pills, she uncapped it and dumped the medication into her palm.

  “This will knock out a horse,” she whispered, slipping it into her pocket. Then she looked around, moving items until she saw a box of syringes. Smiling, she hunted down the sedative Dr. Barter used on Luke. “Ah…there we are. How much, though?” she whispered, turning the bottle in her hand.

  After serious deliberation, she made a scientific guess and filled the syringe about one-third of the way, hoping if she had to use it on Luke, it wouldn’t kill him. If he got out of hand, she could quickly inject him and get him back to his room. She turned and spotted a wheelchair tucked behind the door.

  “Perfect. He’s too weak to walk.”

  Leaving the chair there for the moment, Michelle headed out and walked to the cafeteria, remembering she had found a hidden stash of sweets while looking for something to munch on after shift change.

  She opened the cupboard and pulled out the box of cereal somebody had used to hide honey buns like they were contraband. Unwrapping the cellophane packaging, a shudder coursed through her body. Then she smiled as she pushed the sedative into the middle of the sticky, opaque-glazed treat.

  She made a mad dash back to the clinic and grabbed the wheelchair, pushing it right up to the lab door.

  Between her nervous energy and excitement, her heart rate quickened, similar to the adrenaline high that kicked in after a long, fast-paced run on the treadmill.

  Using a yoga strategy, her other go-to exercise of choice, she took in a few deep, cleansing breaths, calming herself.

  Michelle walked into the lab, then to the foyer of Luke’s room, leaving the wheelchair at the door. She took a quick peek through the observation window.

  Luke lay on his side, facing the window. He smiled when he saw her, then closed his eyes to continue the charade. She noticed Joseph had his nose buried in a magazine.

  “Let’s hope this works,” she said, heading into the decontamination chamber.

  Once the door unlocked, Joseph looked up. “Michelle? What are you doing here?” He slapped the magazine closed, shoving it between his ass and the chair, leaving her to wonder if it were pornographic. His creepy gaze went to the chemical-filled treat in her hand.

  She picked off a chunk and shoved it into her mouth. His gaze traveled up, stopped at her chest for a brief moment, then focused on her lips.

  “I see you found my stash,” he said, swallowing, obviously salivating.

  “Mmm…” She coughed slightly, trying to act like she were enjoying the godawful thing. “I was hungry and wanted to check in on Luke. He was a mess today.”

  Once again, his gaze traveled to her hand and watched her pick off another chunk, putting it into her mouth.

  “Want some?” She held it out to him. “I can’t eat all this. Too much sugar makes me do crazy things.”

  “Sure.” He reached out and snagged it. He shoved it in, not even chewing, and swallowed, swallowed, swallowed. He grabbed his fizzy drink from the nightstand and took a massive swig.

  Michelle’s adrenaline spiked again. She wanted to jump up and down.

  “Bloody fucking hell. Those are my favorite.”

  “I can see that,” Michelle said, smiling. “How’s our patient?”

  “Oh… I checked his vitals twice. They looked to be in his normal range. He’s been sleeping for a couple hours now. Seems to be resting comfort…” He stopped and yawned. “Wow. Not sure why I’m so tired all of a sudden.”

  She watched carefully, hoping the sedative would knock him out any second. “Maybe a sugar high and then low?”

  “You know, I bet…” He stopped once more, rubbing his eyes. “Do you think it would be okay if I took a quick nap?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. He’s sleeping. I don’t see why not.”

  Joseph stretched out in the chair and closed his eyes. Michelle made herself busy, checking the chart while she waited.

  Chapter 35

  The moment we heard Joseph start to snore, Michelle put the chart back and ran to my side. My heart raced, excited for this rebellious adventure, even though I knew it would be a night of hard emotions and horrific memories. Sharing it with Michelle seemed like a good idea. It seemed like she really wanted to have all the pieces to the puzzle that was Luke Richards.

  I peeked over my shoulder and snorted. The bloke had his mouth wide open, drooling, pieces of the solidified icing clinging to his lips.

  I turned back to Michelle, who quirked a brow and held her finger to her lips. There were a few elaborate hand gestures between us, trying to figure out the best way to go about this. Finally, we decided I’d walk out, but not before she disconnected the IV and taped the short tube to my arm.

  As I slid to the edge of the bed, she wrapped her arm around my waist, helping me stand. We took a few steps, stopping near the counter and cabinets. She grabbed something before we continued.

  I watched her press her index finger to the print reader, the door unlatched, and voila! We were out of the chamber.

  I wanted to dance and shout, but there was no way I could do that without injuring myself or, at the very least, falling on my ass.

  “This is amazing,” I whispered.

  “Shh…,” she cautioned.

  “What did you do to him?”

  “I may have put a sedative in his sticky pastry.” She shrugged and smiled.

  “And you called me dodgy.” I shook my head.

  She grinned, placing something over my mouth.

  “What the fuck?” I questioned, swatting her hand away.

  “You need to wear this facemask.”

  “I’m not wearing that.”

  “You are.”

  “Nope.” She glared at me, which was actually terrifying. “Okay, fine.”

  She smiled. “I’m on a roll tonight.”

  “Careful not to butter it. You’ll slip right off.”

  “Very funny.” She placed the elastic straps around my ears and positioned the mask in place. “Off we go.” She hit the print reader to the outer door.

  Freedom. Sweet, sweet freedom. I was so excited, an orgasm was not out of the question.

  “Grab the edge of the window.”

  I did as she asked, then saw what she was doing. “No way. I’m not doing this in a bloody wheelchair.”

  “I swear, if you don’t stop whining and behaving like a toddler, I will put you back in your room.”

  I glared at her, feeling a bit emasculated. “Yes, Mummy.”

  “Fuck off. Either get in the bloody chair or we are not going.” I glanced away from her hard gaze, but she grabbed my chin and made me look at her. “I care about you. I don’t want anything to happen to you. This whole idea is stupid, but I understand. However, you’re too weak and frail right now to be walking around this massive building.”

  Blow to the bollocks, but she was right…as usual. “Okay.”

  She assisted me into the chair. “Good?”

  “Yeah.” Then I remembered. “Fuck.”

  “What?” Hands out, she looked around my body. “What’s wrong?”

  “I forgot the blasted video camera. I wanted to chronicle this for Elaina.”

  “Shit…” She trailed off, looking around. “Don’t go anywhere. I will be right back. Don’t even think about escaping.”

  “How can I?” I wiggled my fingers in the air. “Prints won’t work.”

  “True.”

  She turned and pressed her finger to the reader, then again at the decontamination chamber. I watched her run in, tread lightly around Joseph, grab the video camera, and run back to the door. She went through all the barriers and was back out with m
e in record time.

  “Look. I’m still here.”

  She laughed. “You are something else.”

  As we emerged from the lab, excitement flowed into trepidation, followed by a serious case of the jitters rippling through my body. Itching and twitching, I drummed my thumb on the armrest. Even my legs decided to get in on the action with small spasms in my thighs and calves.

  Then it hit me. Between the industrial bleach stench and the fluorescent lighting, my belly started revolting once again. I sucked in a deep breath, shuddering, trying to keep from vomiting.

  “Are you okay? We can go back,” Michelle suggested, watching me fidget.

  “No. I need to do this. You will have a greater understanding about me and why I have so much fucked upedness running through my body and mind, dirtying my soul.”

  She stopped and walked around to face me. I couldn’t even look at her. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that about yourself.”

  “No offense, Michelle, but you don’t know me. You know nothing about my past.”

  She knelt, her brows furrowing in concern, and reached out to touch my hand, then my cheek. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

  My throat grew tight, her actions making me want to cry like a fucking baby. She was clueless, but still cared so much about my welfare. Even more than I did.

  It was remarkable, making me wonder why this nurse, cherry-picked for this special assignment, could feel such empathy toward me. I wasn’t sure I ever would understand it.

  “Luke?”

  “I want to do this.” I gazed at her. “Tomorrow is not promised. I need to see something more than the death chamber.”

  “I feel like I’m missing something here. Why do you want to tour this place?”

  “It’s all part of my past. If you want to know everything about me, we need to do this. It may be the only chance.”

  She shook her head. “Okay, but if you start crashing, I’m going to rush you back to your bed.”

  “Deal.”

  She stared at me for several long seconds, then stood and walked back around the chair, pushing me again.