Beautiful Wreck

by Kasey Lane

  Bowen felt Mandi’s quiet sobs against his chest, her face buried in his jacket. He looked around at his friends, his family, and felt a sudden stabbing ache for his sister. Should he call them on their honeymoon? Or should he leave them in their own happy world? The kinder answer would be to let them have this time together. But Kevan and Mason would never forgive him if he didn’t call. Conner was family and to them, family was everything.

  Peeling Mandi off him, he guided her over to the rest of the group and set her down next to Jami who immediately embraced her and kissed the top of her head.

  Quietly, he ducked into the hall to call Mason and share his grim news with the newlyweds who were currently in Venice. They were already scrambling for flights home and promised to be there as soon as they could.

  When he stepped back into the ICU waiting room, which was filled now with his wild bunch of friends, his heart swelled a little before dropping into his stomach when he caught sight of an attractive woman with a drawn face and wearing a white coat talking with Joe and Elena. The rest of the group stood respectfully behind them, but anxiety bled from each of their faces. Jami stood with her arms still around Mandi who had stopped crying, and Jax had his long arm wrapped around his fiancée.

  Gabby, who stood apart from the group, obviously torn between her need to be supportive and her desire to jet, chewed on the edge of her sweatshirt sleeve, shuffling from foot to foot.

  As he started for her, a buzzer sounded from the nurses’ station and several nurses and attendants ran down the hall. His breath caught and he suddenly felt like the waiting room walls were pressing in on him. He was frozen where he stood and every horrible feeling he’d been drowning in for the last decade came rushing to the surface where everyone could see it.

  His mother. The crash cart. His drunken farther yelling, falling, pulling down the IV. His sweet wide-eyed little sister clinging to him. Knowing it was all over. That they were losing the one real solid thing that made them a family.

  He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t do this. It was too soon. What the fuck was he thinking? Really, who the hell did he think he was? He couldn’t save poor Sabre and he sure as shit wasn’t any good to his buddy lying in an ICU bed down the hall.

  A small warm hand wrapped around his and another rubbed his abdomen, breaking the spell. His heart still threatened to jump from his chest, but Gabby’s gentle touch pulled him back to the here and now. To where he needed to be. With this family, the one stitched together by time and trust and tragedy. The one that needed him to hold his shit together and be of service however he could.

  She moved her hand to his face and pulled his chin down so he could see into her eyes. The move would have been funny in any other circumstance since she was so diminutive and he wasn’t. When she was this close he could still smell a mix of them on her. He should have asked her to stay home. Shower. Sleep. Anything but this freaking nightmare. “You with me, pretty boy?”

  He nodded, not able to articulate a proper answer. Because what was the correct way to thank someone for grounding you in the middle of a fucking hurricane, for pulling you back from what would surely turn into a meltdown if his history was any indication? What was the proper method for saying “thanks” just before you cut someone loose because you just knew you couldn’t handle any more distractions?

  “Shall we go sit and wait to find out how Conner is?” Her voice was so calm, like Diamond Lake in the early morning, soft and glassy, inviting. Not barbed with her usual jagged edges. He wasn’t quite sure which he preferred. This softer version of Gabby was somehow harder to read, scarier than the in-your-face take-it-or-leave-it Gabby. You knew where that one stood because she told you. This quieter one left him feeling off-kilter and a little vulnerable.

  And he didn’t like it. He didn’t want her softness, but he knew he needed it right then, needed it to take his next breath and make his next step. Without Gabby anchoring him, he wasn’t sure he would be able to do any of it. But needing to have Gabrielle Alvarez around, or anybody for that matter, was clearly a big fat red flag waving in his face.

  In the meantime, though, he joined his friends with Gabby’s hand in his. He tried to focus on the words Joe said, about Conner’s broken leg, fractured rib, and sprained wrist, about how lucky he was that his rib hadn’t punctured a lung, about how Sabre’s fatal injuries were a fluke since they hadn’t been going that fast. Although Sabre had been on the periphery of their group for years, she’d never really meshed. They didn’t know much about her background and her family, other than her on-again-off-again relationship with Marco. And that her sister was some kind of country rock singer who was getting some local radio play.

  “You called her sister?” Bowen asked and Marco, red-eyed and feral-looking, nodded.

  “Yeah Kendall’s flying in from LA in the morning.”

  “You gonna meet her at the airport? Need any help?”

  “Nah, man. She doesn’t want me around. I’ve never met her, but I know she didn’t approve of our relationship. She and Sabre weren’t close at all, raised by different family members. I think Sabre’s new boyfriend is going to pick her up.” Marco sank into the plastic sunny yellow chair again, which was so out of place in that room of sadness, and lowered his head into his hands before looking up again, a plaintive look on his face. “How can I blame her for hating me?”

  “None of this is your fault, Marco.” Nathan fell into the chair next to him. “It was a fight. That’s what you guys did. It was no more your fault than it was Conner’s.”

  Marco dragged in a stilted breath, like it hurt just to breathe. Who knows, maybe it did. “I was such a dick. She was so fucking drunk and high and I was over it. I told her I didn’t love her anymore, that I wasn’t sure if I ever did. I just needed to get off the fucking merry-go-round, you know? The back and forth was killing me.” He made a sound, like something between a sob and a hollow chuckle that held about as much humor as a piece of chalk. “She laughed. Said I was nothing to her. A diversion. She was in love with Dale. But now she’s dead.”

  Bowen understood. He got it. Their twisted relationship had finally run its course and even Marco, immature man whore that he was, hadn’t been able to deal with the drama anymore. A man gets to that place where the adrenaline high from the push and pull just doesn’t pay off. Marco and Sabre had hit their limit and had finally reached that end point.

  Nathan laid his arm over his friend’s shoulders. “Buddy, I’m going to keep telling you this until you want to punch me in the face, but it’s true. It wasn’t your fault and there was nothing you could have done to stop what happened. Nothing.”

  Marco shook his head and dropped it to his hands again. Everyone stayed quiet but settled into those uncomfortable mockingly yellow chairs and waited for word on Conner. “Doesn’t matter. She’s gone. And I’m still here.”

  Bowen sank into his chair and picked up a magazine before he realized Gabby wasn’t in the room any longer. Guess she did her thing and ran off. He couldn’t really blame her. He’d probably have left, too, if Conner’s accident had happened six months before.

  Kicking his feet up on the laminate table, he crossed one ankle over the other and leaned his head against the wall with a quiet thunk, he closed his eyes.

  “Coffee or water?” His eyes snapped open and he sat up. Standing before him was Gabby, her ponytail sloppily hanging from her head, with coffee, a bottle of water, and a handful of granola bars.

  “I thought you left.”

  She cocked her head and squinted her eyes at him. “I did. I went to get snacks. Do you want coffee or water?”

  “Coffee, please.” He patted the empty seat next to him. She tossed the snacks on the table and offered them to the group before sitting down.

  “I’m not running away now.”

  “Why not now?” he asked and took a sip of the world’s worst coffee. And that was saying something since he downed gallons of AA coffee every week.

  “You didn’t
leave me when I needed someone. I won’t leave you.”

  When he started to say something, she held up her hand. “Just shut up. I’m staying.” Then she pulled her laptop from her messenger bag and went into her weird little programmer world, leaving him just a bit stunned and overwhelmed.

  *

  Cheery golden rays of sunlight that contrasted with the general mood of the room, but matched the tacky plastic chairs, began to filter through the one small window in the ICU waiting room when Gabby finally looked up from her computer screen. Bowen’s friends were scattered in chairs and splayed out on the floor, but none had left.

  Gabby set her computer aside and stood, stretching her cramped muscles. A small twinge of pain between her legs reminded her of the night before, which seemed a thousand years ago, and of Bowen between her thighs. She’d been so thankful for the interruption of the conversation they’d started to have. Until she realized how horribly wrong everything had gone and then she yearned for the opportunity to have that uncomfortable discussion. Anything, but this new terrible reality.

  She walked to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. Hoping the cold liquid would refresh her, make her feel sharper so she could somehow be useful to these people she was beginning to really care about. Leaning against the wall, she heard the door open and looked up to see Jami walk in. For once, her normally impeccable friend was disheveled, wearing yoga pants and a long-sleeved Manix Curse T-shirt. Her long blonde hair was piled on top of her head and her eyes were red.

  Gabby moved to her friend and put her arms around her as Jami’s head fell to her shoulder and she felt the quiet sobs against her. She didn’t know how long she stood there holding her before Jami pulled away.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.” Jami ran her hands under the faucet and splashed water on her face. “I feel so powerless.”

  Gabby handed her a paper towel that felt more like particleboard than paper. “I don’t think there’s a right way, Jami. I’m sorry about your friend.”

  “I think he’ll be okay. I hope so.” Jami sighed. “I wish I could help Jax. All of them.”

  “I’m sorry about Sabre. It must be so horrible. I just…I don’t know…I’m just sorry.”

  “It’s soul crushing. For Marco, especially. I didn’t really know Sabre. I’ve seen her sing a couple times. Oh my God, she had an incredible voice…” Jami let out a soft sob and breathed deeply several times before continuing. “But mostly I just watched Marco and Sabre tear each other apart every chance they got.”

  “Jesus,” Gabby said, not really knowing what else to say. What did normal people say when something unthinkable happened like this?

  “My brother’s on his way back from Europe.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the time. “They should be on a plane already. I know it sounds petty, but I feel bad they didn’t get to have their honeymoon. Kevan’s never been anywhere. This trip was a big deal for them, but especially her.”

  “I’m sure she’d rather be here,” Gabby said not really knowing what the hell Kevan would want. She followed Jami out of the bathroom and down the hall. “I don’t know how to help, Jami,” she finally admitted. “I mean, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

  Jami laughed. “And I do? Welcome to the clueless club, my friend. All I know is that these people welcomed me into their little circle because Jackson loves me.” She shook her head. “They’re special, Gabby. I’ve never met people like them. Wild and metal and tattooed. But so protective and loving and kind. I will do anything for them.”

  They walked in silence for a moment, each buried in their own thoughts until they stopped at the vending machines to load up on sodas, water, and snacks.

  “So how’s it going with Bowen?” Jami asked.

  Ella and Jami were not going to let it go. Her first instinct was to avoid and deflect. Her second was to run. Her third was to lie. She was afraid to give in to the need to share with Jami, afraid it would lead to more sharing and feelings. Because nothing good ever came from letting people in. It almost always led to disappointment and pain.

  “Remember when you told me to take a chance on Jackson?” Jami asked referring to her first date with Jackson after they’d reunited. “You opened up and shared a little bit of yourself. You gave me the strength to push past my fear. You can trust me.”

  Jami’s words meant more to Gabby than she would have ever expected. She wanted to let her guard down—she was so tired from the constant effort it took to keep it up. But she couldn’t. Not yet and not here. And definitely not while some whacko still stalked her and Conner was lying in the hospital with broken bones. “Thank you.” She reached over and squeezed Jami’s arm. “I mean it. You’re a good friend. But you don’t need my mess on top of all this.”

  “Gabby…”

  “No, Jami. Not here. I do have some stuff going on like I told you and there’s more. But…but Bowen is a whole other thing. We do stuff.”

  “Stuff?” Jami’s look was skeptical, but interested. “Like?”

  Gabby blew out a long breath. “We work out together sometimes. And grocery shop.”

  “You grocery shop together?”

  “Yes, we grocery shop together.” She started toward the lobby with her arms full of snack foods.

  “Gabby.”

  “Fine. We do other things. But it’s not serious. I’ll be back in my apartment soon and everything will go back to normal,” Gabby said, hoping it was true.

  As they stepped back into the lobby her phone rang with a number she didn’t recognize. Figuring it was the police, whom she hadn’t heard from in a couple days, she answered it, while Jami grabbed the vending machine booty and offered it to the group.

  “Mija.” Her mother’s voice purred over the line.

  “Alma, I can’t talk right now. What do you need?” Jami hissed into the phone.

  “Gabrielle, why do you always assume I need something?” her mother asked, her voice notably devoid of a slur. Nor did Gabby hear any of the clanging or yelling she usually associated with jail. “I called to give you my new number.”

  Apparently, Alma was out already. Great. Probably already shacked up with her newest loser boyfriend.

  “I’m in a treatment center. I can have calls on Wednesday nights and Saturdays. Will you call me, mija?”

  Yay. Rehab. Again. Hopefully the state was footing the bill because Gabby certainly wasn’t falling for that bullshit. Not a second time. Especially since she was still paying off the last time she went and left after four days.

  She jotted down the number. “Sure, Mom. I’ll do my best. I gotta go though.”

  “I love you, Gabrielle. I’m really going to do it this time. I promise.”

  For a moment, Gabby wanted to wish her luck, tell her she loved her, too. But she’d been in this position too many times to count. And her bruised heart couldn’t bear one more punch from her mother. So she did the best she could. “Okay. Bye.”

  In her gut, she knew her mother would do something to sabotage any shot she had at recovery. The staff would be too mean, the counselor wouldn’t understand her, the food wouldn’t be gluten free, she’d hate her roommate, and on and on and on. Life with Alma Alvarez was just one excuse after another followed by a little blame-throwing and a pity party.

  Alcoholics and addicts lie. That’s just what they did.

  Lie. Beg for forgiveness. Then lie some more.

  But Alma isn’t everyone.

  When she walked back into the room and locked eyes with Bowen she forced herself to remember that universal truth. Pretending any differently would only cause her more heartache, right? Except it wasn’t necessarily the same for all addicts, was it? Bob Little got sober with her mom years before and stayed sober. So did his wife. And Bowen was a lot of things, but his primary focus was his sobriety. He’d made that very clear.

  What if some people were capable of great change? What if Bowen really was a man she could trust, coun
t on? What then?

  Chapter Thirteen

  The following Saturday night, a week after the accident, Bowen had picked Gabby up following her shift at the center. She sat at the small kitchen table pretending to work on a chunk of code for an art game geared at middle school kids. Instead she stared over her laptop’s screen at the shirtless man with the gorgeous tattoos covering most of his arms and torso. He flipped one of the grilled cheese sandwiches he was cooking and whistled along to the Diplo mix playing over the speakers.

  The night was warm, but the rain that had been threatening all day had finally made its appearance. The room exploded with a boom and then a minute later a flash of light illuminated him against the dark wall. His almost-black hair kept falling forward into his gray-blue eyes despite his subconscious attempts to brush it away.

  She savored these opportunities, the ones where she could admire him without his awareness. The man was all rippling muscle and hulking sexuality. No wonder he’d had the reputation he had. Even sexless virgins like her—or like she had been—could appreciate how the man just oozed hotness. And now that she’d had just that little taste of him, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. About him and the way he touched her, the way his eyes seemed to see right through her.

  But other than holding her at night, which drove her crazy and soothed her all at the same time, or planting a platonic kiss on her forehead, he hadn’t touched her. Some hand holding as they went to work and back and forth to the hospital, but definitely no more sex. Thankfully, he hadn’t brought up their unfinished and very uncomfortable conversion. At this point, she was almost ready to broach that topic herself if it meant he’d touch her again.