Unbreak Me

by Julieanne Lynch

  He stood and almost lost his balance but fought through the grogginess, making his way to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he let the steam build before stepping in. Needing the heat to ease the throbbing headache and the water to wash away the sin.

  “God, I’m so stupid,” he muttered as he stood under the burning heat.

  No matter what he did or said, it didn’t erase the fact that he had allowed himself to fall under Marissa’s calculating spell. She had wormed her way into his head in mere seconds. He hadn’t wanted her—he hated her—but how could he deny his arousal? Molly had seen it. She’d witnessed it, and now she hated him. How could he ever live with that? The look on her sweet face when she’d realized what was going on. Then the worst thought of all, what if Molly hadn’t come in? What would he have allowed to happen?

  His stomach turned, the knife twisting deep in his heart. He was his own worst enemy and there was no salvation for someone like him. How could there be? He was a nasty monster. A motherfucker who deserved nothing but the misery that had now found its way into his life.

  “Connor, you okay?” Mark shouted in from the door.

  Connor turned his head, the water dripping down his face. The ache pulsing in his temples. “Yeah. Give me five.”

  “I’ll be downstairs.”

  He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. He knew Mark wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. Not unless Cassie went into labor, which wasn’t likely, not yet.

  It was odd being back in his old room. Not once in the last eight years had he spent a night in the house, yet his mother made sure he had clean clothes, if ever an occasion arose that meant he’d have to stay the night.

  Putting on a clean pair of pants and shirt, he looked at himself, hating everything that stared back at him. Swallowing two Tylenol, he ran a hand over his face before mustering the courage to face the small gathering downstairs.

  As he entered the large lounge, he was met with looks of pity, and in among the many faces that stared at him, he saw someone he hadn’t expected to see any time soon.

  “Connor, can you sit down?” his father asked, directing him to a chair near the large bay window.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Jenna?”

  Jenna looked over at Connor, her own face ashen, sleep deprivation evident from the bags under her eyes. “It’s Molly.”

  Connor’s chest suddenly felt tight, as if he couldn’t catch a breath. Connor’s hands trembled, as his head spun. Sweating, he didn’t know whether to stand or stay seated, and the sense of complete dread sucked away at his reality.

  “Molly was in an accident, Connor,” Jenna said.

  The words—those God-awful words—they echoed in his head as he looked at Jenna’s solemn face.

  Oh God, she’s dead, he thought to himself as the room seemed to grow smaller, the air tighter, the need to run overbearing him.

  “Connor, do you hear her?” his father asked, his voice sounding slow and distorted.

  Connor looked up. His father stared down at him, his mouth moving. But Connor heard nothing. The only thing that rang in his ears was his own pounding heartbeat, then like a smack in the face, reality hit him hard.

  “What?” His throat burned as he fought through it. “Where is she? Is she dead?”

  The words. Those words. God, no… She can’t be dead, he thought as he looked at his father and Jenna.

  “She’s in ICU at St. Francis’s, but she’s in a bad way.” Jenna looked at Connor, her lips trembling, fighting hard not to break down.

  “I don’t understand.” His mind raced. “I have to go to her,” Connor said as he stood, the adrenaline beginning to pump through him.

  “Is that necessary?” his mother said as she took a drag on a cigarette, blowing out the smoke.

  “Fuck you,” he roared and pointed at her. Connor walked from the room, grabbed his keys and didn’t waste a moment longer. Even Mark calling after him wasn’t going to stop him. He had to see her, make sure she was all right.

  “Connor,” Mark shouted as he ran down the driveway. “At least let me drive.”

  Throwing the keys to Mark, Connor got in and sat in silence for the entire journey to the hospital.

  Complete fear consumed him. Not knowing what to expect. Not knowing if he would be able to handle it. Mixed feelings—guilt, anger, frustration—a combination of things that would easily push him over the edge.

  Mark rested a hand on Connor’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, saying, “I’m with you, bro, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

  The walk to the public safety office took forever. Connor was on edge as the attending officer made a call up to ICU, getting permission for them to make the visit.

  “Are you immediate family?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m her partner,” Connor said as his voice trembled.

  The officer continued talking until finally he assigned them visiting badges and gave them directions up to the ward.

  “Connor,” Mark said. “Are you prepared for what you’re about to see?”

  “Why? What did Jenna say?”

  “Molly was hit by a car. She hasn’t regained consciousness.”

  Those words alone sent a series of sickening pulses running through his veins. Connor’s heart broke as though it were falling down into an empty pit of darkness and the only salvation was Molly. His beautiful, sweet Molly. He just wanted to rewind the past twenty-four hours. Turn back the clock, not go to the gala. His sixth sense had warned him. That unease he’d had, that had been his subconscious telling him something bad was going to happen. But he had ignored it.

  The door to the ward buzzed open and they were met by a nurse.

  “Hi, guys, just sign in here and sanitize your hands over there,” the nurse instructed.

  Once they had completed their tasks, the nurse led them down the long corridor. The beeping sound of monitors, breathing apparatus and various machines made the whole situation seem surreal. That was until Regina came into view.

  Eyes swollen and red, she held her handkerchief to her mouth as her hand trembled. “What did you do? You promised me you’d look after her.”

  “I don’t know what happened… I don’t know. I’m so sorry… I tried to stop her leaving, but she wouldn’t listen to me.” Connor choked on his words.

  “Then you have a lot of praying to do because that girl in there is fighting for her life.”

  Connor’s heart shattered into tiny pieces. His insides ached as he made his way to the door. The beeping of the monitor made what he was seeing seem almost dreamlike. But the sight of Molly attached to so many machines scared him in a way he had never thought possible.

  A nurse was taking OBs, writing in her file. Looking at Connor, she gave him a gentle smile.

  “How bad is she?” Connor asked.

  “The doctor will be along shortly.”

  Nodding, Connor stepped over beside the bed and began absorbing everything he was seeing. Molly’s beautiful face was swollen. A ventilator was breathing for her—the sound alone was something he’d never forget. Touching her soft hand, he rubbed her knuckles. The cuts were superficial, but the bruising was already beginning to discolor her skin.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered as tears fell. Just as he was about to bend down to kiss her, the doctor came along, making his presence known.

  Anxious, Connor looked at the middle-aged man. “Will she survive?” The words alone hurt to say.

  “Molly sustained a serious injury to the head, causing a bleed. I performed an emergency procedure—a craniotomy—to reduce the pressure of the bleed. She is now in an induced coma, which will help reduce the strain of the injury on the brain, giving us time to treat her other injuries,” the doctor said. “She has six broken ribs and a broken ankle. Those will heal, but our main concern is her head injury and keeping her as comfortable as possible.”

  “What happened?” Connor’s voice quavered.

  “Molly was hi
t by a cab. Her blood-alcohol concentration levels were point two hundred, which put her at a dangerous level. She is lucky to be alive.”

  “Wait a minute, she was drunk?” Connor asked.

  “Yes, another drink would have put her life at risk.”

  Connor slipped back over to the bed, touched his beautiful Molly’s hand and sobbed. “I won’t leave your side. I swear it… Please… Please don’t give up.”

  He’d done this. He had destroyed her.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Three weeks later

  It was odd.

  Molly floated through an endless fog. The kind of haze where she couldn’t find her bearings. But instead of the chill that normally came with fog, she was warm. A nice comforting heat that radiated through her, easing some of the crushing anxiety. Yet there was a dull ache, a pain she couldn’t define. It was there, throbbing beneath the layers, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.

  Voices. So many voices. She was sure she knew them. She did know them. They were people she knew, but she couldn’t see them. Molly tried to speak, but her voice failed her.

  Looking down on herself, she saw that she wasn’t really there. Nobody, nothing. What’s going on? she thought as she continued to float. Completely confused.

  “Molly, honey, we’re still here.” A voice filtered through the air, sounding so distant, yet so close.

  Panic set in. Where are you? she thought as her voice failed to make a sound. Something was stopping her from responding. Something was stuck in her throat.

  Oh God, I can’t breathe, she thought as she choked. Help me!

  Warm hands. Bright light.

  Molly’s eyes fluttered open a few times as she slowly regained consciousness, weakly grabbing for the tubes scratching at her throat. Totally unaware of her surroundings, Molly gagged, as if she were about to vomit, yet choking at the same time.

  “Molly, I am going to remove this tube. Just relax and let out a little cough,” an unfamiliar voice said, her face slowly coming into view as Molly’s eyes tried to focus on her through the cloud of fog.

  A new kind of panic began to set in. Pain, mixed in with an inner anguish, caused tears to seep down her face, wetting the hair behind her neck. Wide-eyed and very aware of the now-burning itch in her throat, Molly coughed as the tube was extracted from her throat.

  The nurse wiped her mouth, but it was of no use, Molly couldn’t hold it in. The contents of her stomach emptied in quick succession. She cringed, but was relieved at the same time.

  “Molly,” she heard his voice.

  Connor came to her side and touched her hand as the nurse took her blood pressure.

  Closing her eyes, Molly ached from exhaustion. She wanted to drift back to the warm fog, rest some more. It was too much effort trying to figure it all out.

  “Molly, I’m going to take some blood, so you may feel a little scratch,” the nurse said. And as sure as hell, the needle stung as it pricked her skin. Molly’s eyes flashed open and stared at the nurse. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’m just doing the rounds.”

  “Is she going to be okay?” Connor asked.

  “The doctor will be here soon.” The nurse was direct, but her warm smile was reassuring.

  As the nurse left the room, Connor sat beside her bed, holding her hand. Molly opened and closed her eyes, focusing her gaze on the handsome man who’d fallen so deeply in love with her. His unshaven face looked tired, his eyes were sad and the way his voice quavered as he spoke hurt her in a way she had never imagined.

  “I’ve been out of my mind with worry,” he said as he held her hand to his face, placing soft kisses along the knuckles.

  “Aggie,” Molly hoarsely said.

  Connor looked at her, his eyes now shining from the tears ready to burst the bank. Looking over at the woman approaching the other side of the bed, Regina touched her face as she battled her own grief.

  “Oh, honey, let’s just focus on you for now,” Regina said as she bent, kissing Molly gently on the forehead.

  Molly looked at Connor, her eyes observing him. Really focusing on his expressions. She could read him like a book. She could tell he was keeping something from her. “Where’s…Aggie?”

  Closing her eyes again, Aggie’s face flashed before Molly’s eyes in a memory she had long forgotten.

  It was such a warm, beautiful day. Aggie had insisted on a day out of the city, a picnic and plenty of sun lotion to protect her pale skin from the burning rays. Regina popped on one of her huge straw sun hats and sat beside the woman she loved as they drove to the Golden Gate National Recreation Park, where they intended on spending some quality time together, reading, relaxing and listening to nature.

  Molly witnessed firsthand the genuine and deep love the two women had for each other. One would finish the other’s sentences, resulting in raucous laughter.

  “You two are perfect,” Molly said as she wrapped her arms around Aggie’s shoulders.

  The dark-haired woman looked up at the beautiful brunette whom she loved and cherished as though she were her own child. “We make do.”

  Regina laughed that infectious laugh of hers. She was so happy it was hard to imagine seeing her being anything other than full of the happiness and joy for life. It radiated from her. She was the sun in Aggie’s eyes, and together, they embodied everything that was right with the world.

  The memory soon began to fade into darkness. A gloomy day, a time when Molly’s heart knew what loss and grief felt like. The wicker casket—so beautiful, so typical of Aggie—was laid into the hole in the ground. The sun had gone from Regina’s face, in its place a sadness, a cloud of hurt that Molly found hard to bear witness to. Her heart broke as dirt was thrown down over the casket, the last moments to reflect on the short period of time she got to be with Aggie. The lasting memories, the love, the happiness—the second chance of life.

  * * * *

  Molly’s eyes opened again. This time she could see the pain in Connor’s eyes, the realization—the truth.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, holding her hand, gently caressing her with his thumb.

  “I’m so…lost.”

  “Hello, Molly,” Doctor McGraw said as he approached the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired.”

  “That’s to be expected. You’ve had a bit of a tough time,” the doctor said as he shined a light in her eyes. “Molly, what do you remember?”

  Tears trickled down the side of her face. “I don’t know… It’s all so jumbled.”

  Sitting down on the side of the bed, Dr. McGraw rested his hands on his lap. He was a balding man in his late fifties. “Molly, this might be difficult to hear, but I’m a believer in being direct and honest,” he said. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Three weeks ago you were hit by a car, which resulted in some life-threatening injuries. You sustained a serious head injury, so I performed an operation called a craniotomy to relieve the pressure on your brain, and to allow the swelling to heal,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “We kept you sedated, giving your body time to heal, and we began to wean you off the ventilator three days ago. You’ve been showing signs of coming round, and today you woke up. But I cannot stress the importance of rest. Your body and brain have been through a serious trauma and it will take a while to recover. You have a great team on your side, and these guys have been here, willing your survival.”

  Molly closed her eyes, digesting what he was saying. Three weeks of her life had passed her by. She had no recollection of being hit by the car, she could make no sense of any of it, yet her head throbbed, her body ached, and there was something niggling away beneath the surface, but she couldn’t get to it.

  “I’ll be in to check on you later, and we can discuss the right time to take you back into theater,” he said as he got up from the bed.

  “More surgery?” Molly asked.

  “Yes, a small procedure to replace the bone flap.” Dr. McGraw smiled and
touched her hand, giving her a gentle squeeze. “You’re in good hands. Don’t worry. Just rest.”

  Dr. McGraw smiled at both Connor and Regina.

  Molly watched them both, how they fidgeted nervously. Neither saying much to the other, their faces telling Molly enough. They were hiding something, keeping some kind of truth from her. She hated being lied to, and more so than anything, she hated being the last to know what was going on.

  A few hours had passed. Molly slept on and off in those two hours. Regina had gone home to get her a few things. Stuff that Molly would want. Connor sat by her side, afraid to move, afraid to leave her, touching her hand, letting her know he loved her.

  “Did we have a fight?” Molly asked.

  The question came out of the blue. She took Connor by surprise and the look in his eyes said it all. “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  “Baby, I don’t think the time is right, not now,” he whispered.

  “Why?” Molly’s gravelly voice scratched as she tried her best not to cry.

  “Because you need to concentrate on getting better.”

  “No one’s been to the grave. Why has no one been to the grave? The flowers will have died,” Molly began to mumble, not making sense.

  Connor stepped over to the bed and sat down beside her. “What grave?”

  “Aggie’s… Aggie needs to have fresh carnations every Monday… What day is it?”

  “Molly, Regina has taken care of things. Don’t panic.”

  Molly’s head was so jumbled nothing was making sense to her. Everything was compressed in a tight box, bursting to get out, details merging with other details, all cluttered.

  “Why didn’t you jump?”

  The words cut through Connor like shards of glass. Ripping at his soul. Reminding him of the last words she’d said to him.

  “Because you saved me.” His voice cracked as the words came out.