Broken Lyric ((Meltdown book 2))

by RB Hilliard

  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Dr. Shelton consoled.

  “I wasn’t raped,” I repeated, before adding with a dry humorless laugh, “Trust me. He wanted to break me, not rape me.” The room got quiet, and one of the nurses let out a hiss of anger. I could tell by their concerned expressions that they thought I was about three seconds away from coming unglued, which wasn’t far from the truth. I could feel a major meltdown in my near future, but in order to get the hell out of this room without having my privates probed and a psyche evaluation, I had to hold it together. So I played my trump card and explained that I was a part of the pack, one of the gang. I was a fellow nurse. The second I said it, shoulders relaxed and smiles appeared.

  Learning that I was one of their own had the intended effect. After only a few more questions, we were off to radiology. The pain meds were beginning to wear off. My thoughts were clearer, but the overall discomfort was more pronounced. The last thing I wanted was to take more meds, so when asked, I said my pain was still manageable. I clung tightly to two things. Conor was gone and Nash was on his way.

  For the next few hours I was scanned, probed and prodded. My spine was bruised, but otherwise fine, so I was taken out of traction. My broken arm was set and my cracked ribs bound. Nothing else was broken, but everything from the inside out was bruised. By the time the technician was wheeling me back to my room the pain meds had officially worn off, and I was regretting my decision to boycott. I literally hurt from the roots of my hair down to my toenails. What remained of my voice had finally given out. I was down to my bones exhausted, and was barely hanging on by a thread. All I could think about was seeing Nash.

  “We’re heeeeere,” the technician called out as we entered my room. I saw Garrett first. Next to him stood Adam, or maybe it was Bobby, I couldn’t remember which was which. I searched the room for Nash. When I came up empty, my heart didn’t just drop, it crashed to the floor. Nash didn’t come. I turned my head away from the guys as my eyes filled with tears, and there he was, standing beside my bed. Nash. I had no idea where he’d come from, and I really didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was here. I’d dreamt of this for days. In my darkest hours it was memories of his face, his voice, his touch that had kept me going.

  “You’re here,” I whispered. Gorgeous blue eyes that I never thought I’d see again swam with uncertainty as he stared down at me. He clenched and unclenched his jaw as his eyes raked over my body and he got an up close look at the damage that Conor had inflicted. My emotions were all over the place. I was embarrassed, proud, angry, exhausted, but most of all, I was sorry…so damn sorry for everything – My lies, Maeve’s death, Nash’s loss – every last bit of it.

  “Ro,” he whispered, and the pain…the pain wrapped around that one word was more than I could bear.

  “I’m so sorry,” I sobbed.

  His hands slid around the back of my neck as he dropped his forehead to mine. “I want to touch you, but I don’t want to hurt you, so for now this will have to do,” he rasped. Then he touched his lips to mine for a gentle kiss, before lowering his mouth to my ear, and whispering, “I’m so sorry I left you. Please forgive me.” With his head against mine and his warm hands cupping the back of my head, he held me while I cried. At his insistence, I finally allowed the nurse to administer pain meds.

  “Don’t leave me,” I whispered as I started to drift away.

  “Never,” he growled.

  And for the first time in days, I smiled.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Day of Reckoning

  Nash

  The hospital was less than receptive to our arrival. Once Blane disclosed who we were and explained my relationship to the patient, they bent over backwards to accommodate us. Not only did they help keep the press at bay, but they also helped shield Rowan from police interrogation before she was emotionally ready. Dr. Wheatley wanted her to have at least one full day of rest before having to answer any questions.

  After Rowan’s breakdown, she slept for fourteen hours straight. Grant, Mallory, and Evan rented a suite at the Waldorf, while our security team took turns alternating between guarding Rowan’s hospital door and catching up on sleep in the suite. When Ro’s doctor realized that I wasn’t leaving her side, she sent the nurses in with a cot. I’d managed to catch a few winks, but mostly I watched Rowan. My girl was broken. I’d broken her when I left, but Conor had finished her off. The fucker had left a trail of destruction from one end of her body to the other. Dr. Wheatley assured me she hadn’t been violated, but until I heard it from Rowan’s lips, I didn’t believe it. “I’m so sorry,” she’d sobbed. The anguish behind those two words had gutted me. If anyone had something to apologize for, it was me. I’d left her there for that fucker to find…to hurt. Too bad he was dead, because I would have thoroughly enjoyed hunting him down and killing him. As I watched Rowan sleep, my mind kept wandering back to the same question.

  What happened in that apartment?

  Garrett’s attempts to fill in the blanks only left me with more questions. I ran my finger over Rowan’s necklace. Ever since Garrett had given it back to me, it had been burning a hole in my pocket. I wanted it back on her neck, only this time she would know exactly what it meant.

  This morning I’d awakened with a lightness of heart I hadn’t felt in months. Rowan was here. Conor was dead. We were finally going to be together. My phone pinged with a text message, and I checked to see who it was from. Garrett wanted to meet with me in the cafeteria. I stared at Rowan’s sleeping face, and wondered if I should leave her. I was contemplating what to do when Mallory walked in.

  “Can you watch her for a minute? Garrett wants me to meet him in the cafeteria. I won’t be long.”

  “Go ahead. Grant’s already there. I’ve got Rowan,” she assured me.

  “Have I told you how awesome you are?” Her eyes lit up with surprise.

  “No, but I’ll take it.” As I passed by, I dropped a kiss of thanks on her cheek. She grabbed my arm, and I paused. “Grant feels horrible about everything, Nash. He didn’t know how serious things had gotten between you and Rowan.” Grant and I were going to have a talk, but now wasn’t the time. We may have been dicks to each other along the way, but one thing never changed. We always had each other’s backs.

  “Grant’s lucky to have you,” I told her, and walked out of the room.

  The moment I entered the cafeteria and saw Garrett, Grant, Hank, Bobby, and Adam sitting at the table, I knew this wasn’t going to be a quick and easy conversation.

  “What is it?” I asked, once I’d joined them.

  “How’s Rowan?” Garrett asked.

  “Better,” I answered, “Now, what’s up with the pow-wow?”

  “The police refuse to hold out any longer. Rowan is a key piece in a murder investigation. The sooner she talks, the faster she’ll be exonerated,” Garrett explained.

  “There’s no way she could have had anything to do with it. She was locked in a damn room,” Grant angrily stated.

  “Yes, but we need to follow protocol. Rowan has to be questioned,” Garrett reiterated.

  “What else?” Hank asked. Garrett’s eyes darted to Bobby, and warning bells went off in my head.

  “What?” I asked.

  Garrett’s lip curled in disgust. “It appears that Conor had quite an obsession with Gillian.”

  “Clearly,” I dryly stated. Bobby shook his head as if I’d misread Garrett’s intent, and a spear of uneasiness jolted through me.

  Leaning his forearms on the table, Garrett lowered his voice, and explained, “You don’t understand. We just got back from his house in Pennsylvania.” He paused for a moment as if gathering his thoughts, and I braced. “Gillian Gallagher’s things were all over that house.”

  “What?” I barked.

  “The fuck?” Grant hissed.

  “We’re talking clothes, pictures, knick-knacks. If I didn’t know any better, Conor O’Brien and Gillian Gallagher were living toge
ther.” Garrett’s words absolutely floored me. “That’s not the only thing. When we were trying to find a connection between Gillian and Conor, we discovered that her father was a business associate of Conor’s.”

  “Was?” Hank asked.

  “It appears he was murdered nine months ago when his store was robbed. The case is still open, but so far the police have nothing.”

  “Do you think it was Conor?” Grant asked.

  “That’s just it, we don’t know. Rowan has been with you for how long?” Garrett asked me.

  “She’s been with us for over a year now.”

  “Do you think they were living together?” Grant asked. I jerked my eyes to him and scowled. His brows flew to his hairline. “Don’t get upset. I’m just asking.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Garrett said, “and you both need to brace for this one. Bobby found another connection. It appears that Conor was also doing business with Kirkland Hamilton.”

  “Blane’s dad?” I asked.

  “Motherfucker!” Grant harshly exclaimed. I had no words. None. I was completely dumfounded. The deeper we dug, the more shit we unsurfaced.

  Garrett glanced down at his phone, and said, “The detectives are on their way now.”

  I told them I wanted a minute with Rowan before they brought them in, and he told me to hurry.

  Grant and I started back to Rowan’s room. “I know this means shit coming from me right now, but before you judge, make sure you let her explain,” he advised.

  “I can’t help but feel as if I’m missing something.”

  “Like the entire bus?” he joked.

  “What are you going to do about Blane?” I asked.

  “The hell if I know.”

  “If he had anything to do with this…” I was so angry that I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

  We paused outside of Rowan’s room. “If Blane had anything to do with this, I will make sure he goes down once and for all,” Grant confirmed, before waving Mallory out into the hallway. I thanked them both and told Grant I would call as soon as the police interrogation was over.

  I found Rowan still asleep. My eyes wandered down her sleeping form, and I thought, who are you?

  As if sensing me watching her, Rowan’s eyes sprang open. The swelling on her left eye had gone down and I could finally see both of her pupils. Gorgeous green eyes blinked sleepily at me as her lips melted into a smile. My chest ached with love, but my head swam with confusion. I was furious, yet relieved, sad but also happy, full of contradictions and a mess of emotions. I lowered my gaze to the tubes coming out of Rowan’s arm, and contemplated what to say. Rowan needed gentle right now, but I needed answers. I slowly lifted my gaze, and a look of concern appeared on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” she rasped. Emotions that I’d never felt before warred within me. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and never let her go. At the same time, I wanted to stand up and walk right out the door, because I knew…I knew that I was never going to get over this. I needed answers, yet I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear them. I wanted Rowan, but I wasn’t sure I could ever have her. She was never yours whispered through my head.

  “The police want to talk to you,” I told her. Fear flittered across her face, and I reached for her hand and laced our fingers together. “Hey, it will be okay. You just need to tell them the truth, that’s all.”

  “Where’s Garrett?” Right as she asked the question Garrett, Bobby, and Adam walked in, followed by two police officers.

  “Good morning, I’m detective Bezos and this is my partner detective Gains. Are you Gillian Ann Gallagher?”

  “What?” Rowan’s panic filled eyes shot to mine.

  “Is your name Gillian Ann Gallagher?” the detective repeated.

  “I can explain,” she rasped.

  I stared at her beautiful, beaten face, and waited…

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Introducing Gillian Gallagher

  Rowan

  Six sets of eyes stared expectantly at me, five with expressions of interest, and one with a look of uncertainty. I wanted to cry. The urge to run was overwhelming. Running would be easier than seeing the look of disgust on Nash’s face when he discovered who I really was.

  “Are you Gillian Ann Gallagher?” the detective asked once more.

  Swallowing down months of fear and regret, I answered, “I am.”

  “Can you please tell us how you came to be known as Rowan Burns?”

  I didn’t dare look at Nash. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. Instead, I stared down at my hands in my lap as I tried to explain.

  “My name is Gillian Ann Gallagher. I was born Twenty-seven years ago in Dublin, Ireland. My mother passed away from cancer when I was ten years old. After that, my father moved us to New York City. We lived in the Irish sector of the city where my father owned the corner grocery store.” I nervously fingered the blanket. “My dad kind of fell apart after my mom died. Don’t get me wrong. I love my dad. He means well, but he’s always been a bit of a schemer. He dreams of being rich one day. I have no problem with him dreaming, except for the fact that his schemes normally involve me in some way or another.” I lifted my eyes to Garrett, and he encouraged me to continue. “In high school, I met my best friend, Gavin.” I swallowed thickly. “Ever since my mother’s death I wanted to be a nurse. Gavin…well, let’s just say that he had a hard time making friends.”

  “How so?” Officer Bezos asked.

  “Gavin was gay. He got beaten up a lot because of his sexual orientation, but also because he was somewhat of a smart ass. Anyway, he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life, but because I was so sure of what I wanted, he followed me along for the ride. So I became a nurse and Gavin became an assistant radiologist.”

  “Was Gavin friends with Conor O’Brien?” Detective Gains asked.

  I let out a dry laugh. “Hardly. I just want you to have some perspective,” I explained.

  “Please, continue.”

  “Gavin and I worked for the same hospital and lived in the same apartment complex. I loved him like a brother, and never would have left, but my father …Father was getting more and more demanding and I was tired of jumping through hoops for him. Not to mention, my boss was hateful and I was overworked, so when a job opportunity came available in Florida, I took it. The same day I accepted the offer, my father called and asked if I would go on a date with a prospective business associate.” I heard Nash’s chair move, but I didn’t dare look at him or I would never get this part out. “Due to the demands of my job, I didn’t have a lot of time for dating. I was angry because I’d just gotten off from two back to back shifts at the hospital and was beyond exhausted. When I told Father no, he got very upset with me. He insisted, and, out of guilt for taking the job in Florida and keeping it a secret from him, I gave in.”

  “Let me guess, your date was none other than Conor O’Brien,” Garrett stated.

  “It was,” I confirmed. “At first he was charming.” I swallowed deeply, and attempted to gloss over the next part. “I drank too much, and one thing led to another. Let’s just say that he was…rough.” Nash let out a hiss of air, and I flinched.

  Detective Bezos shot Nash a look of warning. “Did he rape you?” he asked.

  “No, but I considered myself lucky. In other words, I did not doubt that he was capable of rape. I’d asked Gavin to page me at midnight. It’s something we did when the other was on a date and needed rescuing. When my pager went off, I made the excuse of being on call and needing to rush to work. Conor was unhappy to say the least, but what could he do about it? He wanted my number. He said things that I didn’t understand at the time, such as how I was more beautiful than he’d remembered and how maybe he should speak to the hospital on my behalf. It never dawned on me that he’d been stalking me. I just wanted to get away from him and forget the night had ever happened. As far as I was concerned it was over.” I took a deep breath, and suddenly a cup of water appeared in my line of sight. I slo
wly lifted my eyes. Where I expected to find judgement, or even disgust, I got concern and compassion. It gave me the strength to keep going. “Thanks,” I whispered as I sipped from the cup.

  “Would you like to take a five minute break?” Detective Bezos asked.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get this over with.” He nodded his head, and I continued. “Before work the next day I went to my father’s grocery. I was having doubts about taking the job and wanted to talk to him about it. I also wanted to talk to him about Conor. As I neared his office door, I heard voices.” Garrett caught my eye as I said, “One belonged to Conor and the other my father. Father was begging Conor to give him another chance. He kept telling him that he would make me see the light.”

  Detective Gains asked for clarification. “The light?”

  “Conor told my father that without me, there would be no business deal. You see, without my knowledge, my father had leveraged himself. Conor was willing to dig him out, but only if I was the consolation prize.”

  “Fucking hell,” Nash hissed.

  “Mr. Bostwick. Am I going to have to ask you to leave?” Detective Bezos calmly asked. I glanced at Nash as he shook his head no. His eyes darted to mine, and I quickly looked away. I expected this to be hard, but it was so much more. It was embarrassing, humiliating…gut wrenching.

  “After I discovered what my father had done, I ran home, called Gavin and explained what had just happened. He was furious. We made plans. I was going to pack a bag and leave for Florida directly after I settled things with my landlord and quit my job. Gavin was going to pack up the rest of my things and meet me in Florida once I’d secured a place to live.” My eyes welled with tears. “He never showed,” I whispered.

  “Please repeat what you just said,” Detective Bezos asked. Nash slipped his hand underneath mine, and I grabbed onto it for dear life.