Deceitfully (Sinfully Series)

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Deceitfully (Sinfully Series) Page 5

by Leighton Riley


  I made it to Hilary first. She was on the ground, and while wounded, she’d be okay. The graze to her shoulder wasn’t deep. Victor passed by me, and she probably saved my life, cluing me in to play dead just moments before he came to check on us. He was making his way around, making sure he was doing as much damage as possible before his time was up. He wasn’t running away or ducking to pretend it wasn’t him. He owned his actions, and I was sure he was prepared for the repercussions.

  As I made my way to the others, I knew deep down that our lives would be forever changed because of this. There were too many bodies, too much blood not to affect us all. Without knowing who all had been hurt and if the rampage was even over, the outcome was looking meek.

  My lungs were on fire and all I wanted to do was close my eyes and sleep. I was struggling for air, struggling to move, but I wasn’t about to give up. People kept knocking into me as they rushed by. One girl tried to pull me with her toward the exit, but I yanked my arm away, not able to leave yet. The treacherous storm was the perfect background for the madness one man had caused. Everyone was either crawling to help victims or crawling toward safety.

  I’d seen massacres on television, read about school and mall shootings, but you never thought it would happen to you. We saw ourselves as being invincible to evil, passing it off when the event didn’t directly affect you. The thing was that no one was safe from harm. Evil lurked where we least expected it, and a happy moment in life could have the light switched off in a second. No one prepared for their ten-year high school reunion thinking, I hope there isn’t a mass shooting tonight. We’d never leave the house. We’d go through each day, hoping for the best and trying to make it out without a scratch, all the while knowing that tragedy could happen at any moment.

  Those last words I told people rang through my mind. Did I end any conversation on bad terms? Did I tell my mother that I loved her? Would my sisters be proud of the man I’d become? These questions only came to mind when you were faced with that life-alternating moment. The time you wished you could have been a better person, a sweeter and more loving friend.

  Crawling closer to the table we’d been at, I worried that I was too late. That they were the targets and their fate was already set in stone. I couldn’t lose them. Over the past few years, they’d become my second family. When a gentle hand grasped mine, a weight lifted from my shoulders.

  She was okay. She was alive. Clenching my hand around hers, I scooted closer and prayed that everyone else was okay. I couldn’t make it much further, the fight to breathe becoming unbearable. I couldn’t hear, or for that matter see, what was in front of me but holding her against me, I knew. Stella was in my arms. I’d gotten to her. Her sister and my friends had to be nearby. Pulling her into me, I whispered into her ear, knowing her hearing was probably just as bad as mine was at that moment.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I’m sorry. You’re going to be okay.” I coughed and it felt like something was ripping from my stomach. I continued on. “We’re going to be okay. Just hold on for me.” At least, that was what I tried to tell her. I couldn’t know for sure how it came out.

  Looking down, I saw her eyes flutter close, but she was still breathing. Her grasp on my hand was growing weaker, but I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t see enough to know what had happened. I was helpless.

  My vision was going; I wasn’t going to last much longer. Sleep was all I wanted. Holding her close, I prayed that everything would be okay. That we would all make it out of this with a few scrapes and bruises.

  I closed my eyes and dreamt of what could have been. If only it wasn’t just a dream.

  I ATTEMPTED TO SIT UP but quickly realized it wasn’t going to happen. I felt like my stomach was being torn in two, ripping with the slightest movement. What in the hell was that? Lowering my hand, I felt my way until my fingers grazed the gauze and tape.

  What happened?

  Smacking my tongue up and down, it felt like I’d eaten a pound of sawdust. Squinting my eyes, the light was shining bright over me and the idea of going back to bed seemed like the best idea. My body ached and I was warm under the blankets. Sleep was all I needed. I’d figure out everything else later.

  That was when I heard the movement next to me. A slight scuffle of the chair, closer to me now. Her gasp was what got me to open my eyes, though. Tears filled her eyes and while she looked just like Sophia, something inside of me stirred at the sight of Stella beside me.

  “You’re awake.” She sounded like she had a frog in her throat, clearing it before she spoke again. “Don’t try moving, all right? I’ll get a nurse.”

  My eyes were still closed, but I could hear her walking away from me, calling out for help. It was just a moment before she was back at my side. Working my eyes slowly open, her face came into view and that was when thoughts started swirling around in my head.

  “Stella?” I choked out. “Water. Please.” I coughed and cried out in pain from the feeling of my side. I was in hell.

  “Let me bring it closer to you.” I watched as she gracefully walked around my bed and picked up the cup, complete with a straw. She brought it closer to my lips, staring intently at me, making sure she didn’t touch my wound.

  Taking a small sip, I realized it was ice cold. How long had she been there? How long had I been asleep? After a few more sips, I nodded and she set the cup back on the table. Before heading back to her seat, she asked, “Is there anything else I can get you? Are you warm enough?”

  Looking up, she looked genuinely concerned. We’d spoken all of two minutes at the reunion and now she was at my bedside, waiting for me to wake up. Staring at her like a puzzle, I wasn’t sure what to ask first.

  “Why are you here?”

  That earned me a dirty look. Maybe not the best thing to start out with. We weren’t exactly friends, but something drew me to her after speaking at the reunion. Our conversation was so brief, but it was evident that she had a good heart. At least, more so than her sister.

  “It’s not like I wanted to be,” she huffed. “Sophia wanted to make sure you weren’t alone. Dylan was with her, so she figured why not send me out to be a do-gooder. I can leave, if you’d like.” She sounded hopeful that I’d say yes, that I didn’t want her in the room with me. I needed answers before I planned to send her away. Plus, I didn’t really want her to leave.

  “How is she? How is everyone else?” I was feeling more awake and alert. Alert enough to see her expression change from pissed to solemn in a second flat. She tried to cover it up, but the tears filling her eyes gave me the impression that not everyone was okay.

  How bad had it gotten?

  “Stella. Answer me!” I roared, and she instantly broke down, collapsing in the chair. She covered her face with her hands, trying to hide, but it was no use. I knew. People had been hurt bad. Did anyone not make it?

  I watched as she took a minute to compose herself, swiping the back of her thumbs to wipe away the tears that were continuing to fall. “You were one of the lucky ones. Of the people they brought to the hospital, most had to have surgery. You had a bullet graze the side of your stomach, but you were close to the homemade smoke bomb when Victor rolled it on the floor. Your lungs were in bad shape, but they said you’re better now. The doctors sedated you and gave you some oxygen. They cleaned up your wound then, too.”

  Breathing in deeply, it felt a little tight but manageable. “How long have I been asleep?” I ran my hand through my hair, feeling the need to take a shower. I smelled like betadine and old man.

  “Just a few hours. It’s—six am. You woke up a little bit ago while doctors were in here, but you were pretty out of it. They checked you out and pumped more pain meds into your body. You’ll probably get a visit from them again soon.” She was looking everywhere but at me—the dry erase board with the nurse’s name and room information, the television that was turned off, the window outside.

  “Stop avoiding the question. I can handle whatev
er you’re about to tell me. I’m not up for this beating around the subject shit, Stella. What went on? Were you hurt?” I realized at that moment that she was still in her dress, make-up smeared from crying, and her hair was disheveled. I was an ass not to at least ask how she was doing. She was there, too; she saw.

  “I’m fine. A few bruised ribs from being kicked while I was on the ground.” She shrugged her shoulder, and I took note of the hospital band around her small wrist.

  She looked so much like her sister, yet was so different. Sophia was the one who looked tame but was a wild partier. She was the manipulator, the planner, and the scheming seductress who knew how to get her way.

  Stella, on the other hand? She was honest to a fault from what I knew so far. She always shied away during high school, spending her time at home while Sophia was out partying. I only saw the two together when they were coming and going to school. They were complete opposites but looked so eerily similar. The main difference between them now was Sophia’s breast implants that she’d gotten some time in the last ten years.

  I needed to approach her in a different manner. We’d gotten off on the wrong foot at the reunion, and if I wanted her on my side, I had to figure out how to get her to talk to me.

  “Thank you for sitting here with me. I figured I’d have Cylas or Graham in here bugging me to death, trying to hit on the hot nurses. It was nice seeing your face when I woke up.” I smiled, thinking about how they were probably causing trouble wherever they were.

  “Tate.”

  “Yeah, Stella?” I looked up and knew this was it. She was about to break down and tell me what in the hell was going on. I wasn’t sure why she was reluctant.

  “Cylas. He was one of them. One of the four,” she simply said, as if I knew what that meant. She wasn’t making sense.

  “Yeah. Cylas, Graham, Matt, and Trevor. They were all with us that night. Well, Graham was MIA for a while, but that’s beside the point. Can you lay it out for me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I tried staying hopeful, like she would tell me that Cylas was one of the four who brought Victor down. That made sense, right? Except for the fact that I remembered seeing the police swarming him before I blacked out.

  “No, Tate. Cylas was one of the four they pronounced dead on arrival. He took a shot that hit his heart. He passed away instantly, without any pain or suffering. I don’t know about Graham. He wasn’t at the table. What’s his last name? I can go see if anyone knows anything. There’s a bunch of people in the waiting room,” she threw out all at once. I was surprised I’d heard anything after ‘dead on arrival.’

  Cylas. He couldn’t be.

  “You’re wrong. Go check again. Stella, go find everyone,” I quietly told her. When she sat there with her mouth agape, I got louder. “Now!”

  She left the room without another word. She had her facts wrong. She didn’t know them as well as I did. Probably got them mixed up with other guys there.

  It was then that I remembered. Rachel’s eyes staring back at me with a lifeless expression. She was one of the four.

  Three others. Three people who would never come home again. Who would never get to hug their family or go to work another day. Not knowing what was going on was killing me. I willed Stella to return to me, feeling all alone without her by my side. I was going crazy by myself, and she was my anchor right then. I needed her more than she realized and more than I’d like to admit out loud.

  She had to be wrong.

  BREAKING THE NEWS TO Tate was the worst thing I had done in a long time. Sophia had pushed me into his room, saying she wanted alone time with Dylan. She had been hit in the back and lost a lot of blood, but she’d live.

  I was surprised she even had Tate on her mind. Every time I went in there, she was kissing face and whining about how the nurses kept interrupting them. I couldn’t stand being in there anymore so the change of scenery was welcome.

  Seeing him alone, asleep, and hooked up to all those machines was scary. I didn’t like seeing him so lifeless, so helpless. To be honest, I’d been in his room, watching and waiting for him to wake up for hours. While he was asleep, his strong muscles were relaxed, and he looked completely at peace. I couldn’t help but wonder what his life was like now. A player, for sure. He was too good looking not to be. Was there more to him, though?

  The Tate I knew was powerful, confident, and always on the go. I was the girl he never noticed back in high school. We never hung out, but that didn’t mean I didn’t see him. Everyone saw him. Everyone wanted to be him or to be the girl on his arm that week. Sophia got that position for a fraction of time but she, being Sophia, fucked that up real quick. Tate might have been a player, but he was loyal to whomever he was with at the time.

  Sophia? Not so much. She slept her way through the last two years of high school. The dumbass never saw what she had in front of her until it was too late.

  Tate. He did something to me, even though I wanted to deny it. He’d ignored me for so long, but fuck if I didn’t feel this, pull, toward him. He was the bad boy. I was the behind-the-scenes baker at one of the hottest bakeries around. He was meant to be known. Meant to be seen. I was not. We simply weren’t compatible.

  Walking down the halls, I was unsure of where to go. I had no authority to ask the status of other patients, even though I saw a handful of doctors I recognized. Before I knew it, I ended up in Sophia’s room and noticed Dylan asleep on the pull-out bed. He was one of the lucky few who came out unscathed. I made my way toward the center of the room as quietly as I could.

  Sophia was awake but looked sedated. Her eyes were half closed and her body relaxed. They’d done surgery just a few hours ago for a lacerated spleen from one of the bullets, and I knew she was on heavy medication. She caught a view of me and turned slightly.

  “Hey, sis. How is he?” Sophia questioned. Her voice was rough and weak. She tried pulling herself into a sitting position but gave up after her first attempt. “How’s everyone else?”

  “I don’t know. I was coming in here to see if you two knew anything. I mean, I know about Cylas, but not anyone else really. I—had to tell Tate. He asked.” Tears dropped down both cheeks, and I didn’t bother wiping them away. More were to come anyway. “How did this happen to us?”

  Sophia lifted her arm out, signaling me to sit beside her. It didn’t seem natural at all between us, but I needed someone right then. “No one knows why, only that there’s a reason for everything. We might not know what it is now, or tomorrow, or months from now. All we know is that we’re safe and that bastard is dead.” I know she was speaking of Victor. Word had spread as to who the shooter was, and while we all knew of him, no one really knew much about the guy.

  “Four people died tonight, sis. How is there reason to that? I just had to break a man’s heart when I told him that one of his best friends died.” Brushing the hair out of my face, I mentioned, “I should be getting back to him. He wanted answers. I don’t know about his friends but thought maybe you did.” I looked over and saw her reaching for her phone.

  “I only know about Cylas and that’s because he was the one who shielded me from Victor. Here’s Graham’s cell number. Go see if people have heard anything in the waiting area, and if not, call him. I haven’t seen him yet, but he’s probably around here somewhere. Check back in with me later?” Control was something she needed. The unknown scared her.

  Nodding my head, I gave her a gentle hug and made my way down to the waiting room. Just as I pushed to open the door, I could hear dozens of people stand up to see who it was. The disappointment on their face was evident, and I knew they were waiting for answers, too. Looking over, I noticed a friend of mine from high school.

  I pulled Tricia aside and asked quietly, “What do you know?”

  She had been at the reunion, but we hadn’t talked in years. She’d aged since I last saw her, the lines around her eyes and mouth more pronounced now.

  “Not much. One of the police killed Victor onsite. The
organizer of the reunion was killed, also. She was one of our classmates. Rachel? I think was her name. No one’s been telling us shit. Only text messages and calls from people already admitted. People are piecing together what they saw, but with the smoke, it’s making it hard to know what really happened and who’s not okay. Any word back there?” She nodded her head toward the doors I just came from and I shook my head gravely.

  “Tate’s awake. He’s going to be okay. Same with Soph. I should get back there. Here’s my number if you find anything out.” I went to pull out a pen, but she was smiling like she knew a secret.

  “I still have your number. Go. Be with your sister.” She shoved me away and I felt like I was betraying everyone behind me who had to stay there. I did not intend to go back to my sister’s room soon, but they didn’t need to know that. They had friends and loved ones back there too, but were made to stay and wait in agony.

  Just before I reached Tate’s room, I stopped at a nurse’s station to see if I could get any information to give Tate. That was what I was supposed to be doing, after all. There was a young nurse in purple scrubs behind the desk, typing away without realizing I was even there. I figured I’d wait a moment for her to finish up.

  Taking a seat nearby, I pulled out my phone and reprimanded myself when I saw that there was only seventeen percent battery left. I didn’t plan to be gone so long, but I needed my phone. I was supposed to work in the morning and needed to be available if anything happened to my sister. We were the only family we had now, and I wasn’t about to leave.

  Pulling out Graham’s number, I gave it a quick call, but it rang until it went to voicemail. I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to call again, so I left a quick message. “Hey Graham, it’s—Stella, just checking to see how you were and if you were still around the hospital. Tate would love a visit, I think. He’s in room five-oh-four. Umm, bye.” Scolding myself about how awkward I sounded, I wished that I had known these people better. It was clearly evident that I was the outsider.

 

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