The Order- Hit and Run

by Emma Cole

  The Order:

  Hit and Run

  By Emma Cole

  The Order: Hit and Run © Emma Cole 2020

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author.

  Edited by Inked Imagination Services 2020

  Synopsis

  When the unthinkable happens to Cora and her life is in shambles, she takes the only realistic option open to her— attending Blackbriar Academy.

  Brokenhearted after a horrific event, Cora is left to pick up the pieces of her life as best she can. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but she didn't expect to have to deal with the guys she used to call friends— those same ones that had turned their backs on her.

  Unable to leave without risking her future, Cora has to figure out how to make the situation work. But things aren't what they seem to be on the surface, something dark lurks on the grounds of Blackbriar Academy, and it's fixated on the new girl.

  Cora knows she has to tough it out or find a way to break her contract. What she doesn't know is just how far she'll have to venture into the darkness to find the light at the end. 18+ RH

  Content warning- Readers discretion advised

  Chapter One

  Have you ever had that moment, that one instant, that will forever be a line of demarcation? There will always be a ‘before’ and ‘after’, featured prominently in your history? This story is about my moment, the one that will live eternal in my heart for the rest of my days.

  Three Days After Graduation

  Standing nervously, twisting my fingers together in front of my swollen belly, I wait for the passengers to begin entering the baggage claim in the Sea-Tac Airport. The carousel had started up shortly after the scheduled landing time popped up on the overhead screen for arrivals, and I’m checking every few seconds for baggage or people to appear, but my bladder is about to pop.

  Chancing a quick trip to the nearby bathroom, I try to hurry, barely drying my hands after washing them. I take one quick second to shake the white flowy skirt of my dress down to make sure it's not stuck in my underwear before I’m rushing back out.

  Still no baggage or passengers. I’m relieved yet disappointed at the same time and move closer to the screen to check the information again, as well as my phone for messages.

  “Boo,” a voice whispers in my ear as hands grip my pear-shaped waist. I screech in fright, briefly gaining the attention of nearby commuters, and spin to discover a tall, dark-haired man dressed in a military uniform.

  “Kael, you’re here!” I launch into his arms, momentarily forgetting my protruding stomach, and nearly bounce off his hard body.

  Laughing, he embraces and steadies me, while I blush profusely at the near mishap. At least my bladder is empty. He drops a kiss on my lips before just resting his forehead on mine for a moment.

  “Missed you, baby.” Kael is usually soft-spoken, but now he's even more so as he steps back enough to address my gigantic baby bump and rub small circles over it. “Cupcake, I think you’ve grown a bit since I last saw your mama.” The tiny terror that delights in kicking my insides out of her way is true to form and gives Kael’s hand a good thump. The look of awe that dawns across his face sends hormones raging through me, inducing tears.

  “I think she recognizes your voice from all the video chats.” I blink back the moisture, doing my best to regain composure. “You really came.”

  Kael’s attention pops up to my face at my quiet words. “Of course I came, Cora. I promised you I would. I wouldn’t you leave you, even if it weren’t for this little darlin’ cookin’ in here.” He taps my belly as he reassures me, making relief course through my body.

  I give him a nod and a shy smile, attempting to lighten the mood. “Let’s see if your bags are out yet.” I don’t want to bring up our next destination even though he’s just reassured me. We move toward the carousel where passengers are pulling their luggage but I stay back far enough to avoid the jostling crowd.

  Kael quickly locates and retrieves his large duffel bag after it spits out of the fringey rubber flaps on the conveyor belt and comes back to where I stand waiting for him. “You want me to go get the truck and pick you up, or are you gonna be alright walking to it?”

  “I'm fine to walk. It’s good for me, and baby too. I’ll let you drive though. The steering wheel nearly presses on me, and I have the seat adjusted back as far as I can reach with my legs and still be able to drive.” He eyes my belly with worry but doesn't comment; instead, he laces the fingers of his free hand with mine.

  We make our way out of the baggage terminal and out to the parking area. Thank goodness there’s an elevator. I was truthful when I said that walking was good for me and baby, but at seven months, nearly eight, pregnant, it’s a chore to do stairs without getting winded. We reach my truck that was a graduation present from my aunt, the only family I have left that will speak to me. Well, my older step-brother would, except his best friend is a total jerk, and I won’t associate with him, or my step-brother, anymore.

  We get in the truck after Kael tosses his duffel in the backseat, and he helps me into the cab. When he gets in, I direct him out and to the interstate, the butterflies kicking up with a vengeance. I’m back to twisting my fingers around each other and staring out the passenger side window until a warm hand grips the both of mine, stalling my twisting.

  “Baby, what’s wrong? Do you not want to do this? We don’t have to if you’re having second thoughts.” Deep and melodious, his tone alone helps to calm me. But I don't want him to think I don’t want him.

  “That’s not it at all! I just worry you’re only doing this because you think you have to.” I wait pensively for his answer. In person is a lot different than a video chat from hundreds of miles away.

  “Cora, I want you to be my wife so badly that I put in for a transfer so we could stay where you’re familiar. I love you, darlin’. Don’t fret. You’ll eventually understand that my lovin’ you won’t ever stop.” He loosens my left hand from my right, pulling it over onto his canvas-clad thigh and lacing our fingers together. The rest of the drive to the courthouse he just keeps rubbing soft circles with his calloused thumb above mine on the back of my hand.

  I try to stay confident. I love him. He loves me. Baby makes three. Kael manages to find parking fairly close to the courthouse, and I pull the marriage license out of the glove box. I’d come and filled out the forms, and Kael had done his portion by mail since he was stationed out of state. He takes the papers and looks them over, before folding them up and hopping out of the truck. I still expect him to back out, but he takes my hand again and leads me in and up to the Justice of the Peace.

  It’s over before I know it. I went in Cordelia Calliope Malbec and came out Mrs. Kael Shultz. In a fog of excitement and a slight sense of disbelief that it actually happened, I kiss the daylights out of Kael. “Can’t believe we’re married!” He laughs softly into my open mouth, and my mind goes from my new name to what usually follows a wedding, even simple ones like ours. My southbound thoughts are interrupted by Kael.

  “I still wish at least your parents would have come down since I don’t have any family. I’m sorry, baby. After we have our lives started and have some friends, we’ll have a redo. A big shindig for you, promise.” His baby blues are begging me to believe him. I reach up to trace one black brow that matches the midnight crew cut on his head.

  “I don’t need a big wedding, and I don’t n
eed my family. I have you and the little bean here. You two are my family now.” I hope he believes me, and by the grin stretching over his even white teeth, I’d say he does, at least somewhat.

  “Alright, then, I’ll ask again in a few years. How about you direct me to our new apartment and we’ll get down to christening it good and proper like, if you catch my drift.” I play along with him, giggling at his wagging eyebrows and elbowing him in the ribs. Even though I’d just been thinking the same thing.

  “Yes, please, husband. Your wife needs servicing. Ignore the evidence that she’s been well tended to already.” I giggle again and dart out toward the truck.

  “Cora, no!” A car backing out of its space nearly hits me as Kael pulls me to safety. “Baby, fuck. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack. Watch where you're going, please.”

  Slightly embarrassed and shaken from the near miss, I nod my agreeance. It was dumb not to be paying attention. I could have hurt the baby. At that thought I cup my belly protectively, silently promising not to let anything happen to her.

  “Let’s get home and relax. My butt is tired of being in a seat, and I’m sure you’re ready to get off your feet.” He’s pointedly looking at my feet that have begun to swell in the strappy sandals I’d worn under my summer dress.

  I color up, pale skin turning red from my chest up, but give a toss of my white-blonde hair and march to the passenger door of the truck. After checking both ways for traffic. So not doing that twice. At the truck Kael barely beats me to open the door and picks me up to set me in the cab, giving me a peck on the lips before shutting the door and jogging around the front of the truck to hop in the driver's seat.

  Chapter Two

  It’s an hour drive to where Kael is stationed in Everett. I have a small apartment nearby that we’ll be moving my things to tomorrow before he has to report for duty later in the week. It's only temporary until the on-base naval housing processes our marriage forms, but it's better than the low-income housing I've been living in. I’m dozing off when I hear Kael swearing.

  “What the hell are they doing? Assholes are going to cause a wreck.”

  I open my eyes in a hurry to find two motorcycles weaving in and out of traffic until a little further ahead blue and red lights appear behind the bikes.

  “Idiots, that’s what they deserve.” Kael mumbles a few other things about idiot drivers while I try to get my heart rate back down.

  Neither of us notice the SUV coming onto the interstate from the on-ramp without their lights on.

  ***

  Kael

  The impact hits Cora’s door before shoving us off into oncoming traffic. It was just too fast for most of the other drivers to react at the speeds we were all traveling. The truck bounces off the cement median, and the tail end is hit again, causing us to flip onto the passenger side. The airbags have deployed, but all I can feel is terror for Cora and helplessness to do anything about the situation. Eventually, the pile-up around us stops, and I’m amazed that I seem to be injury free. My neck is sore, and I’m sure I’ll have a nice stripe from the seatbelt, but it could have been much worse.

  I panic as I turn to her. “Cora, baby, talk to me!” She’s out cold, the seatbelt holding her suspended above me, long blonde hair and white skirt hanging down. Fuck, the baby. “Cora, please.” I can see the rise and fall of her chest, so at least she’s breathing. I’m releasing myself from my own seatbelt, but I'm not sure if it’s safe to get her down. The pressure can’t be good on her middle though.

  Hoping she doesn’t have a neck or back injury, I support her weight as best I can, trying to keep her even and steady as I hit the catch. She drops down, and I ease her onto the driver’s side door of the cab. I can hear sirens coming and other people yelling outside the truck. The back window is already broken, so I kick the rest of it out to get out to find help.

  It’s a mess outside, and there are cars everywhere. Some seem to be fine, but others are in the same state as Cora’s truck. There are police officers near an SUV, the one that I’m nearly positive started all this. There's a group of guys standing around outside of it, and the vehicle is pristine except for a smashed in driver’s side door. I turn away as an ambulance makes its way through the wreck, flagging it down.

  “My wife, she’s pregnant and unconscious,” I say to the older male driver as soon as he rolls to a stop and opens his door. There are several more emergency vehicles right behind him, and he lets me lead him over to Cora after he inquires about my injuries, and I assure him I’m fine.

  He starts asking for details, and I give him as much as I can. I feel like I’m coming in and out of reality and imagine it’s shock setting in. The paramedic climbs in the bed of the truck to check Cora and immediately pulls back, yanking his radio from its holster. He rapidly starts talking about bleeding and placenta abruption and asking me again how far along she is. I absently answer him as panic sets in and lunge back in the window to check her. A red spot is spreading down her white skirt, and she’s still unconscious. I know that can’t be good, and the squeezing in my chest when I put my hand on her belly and it’s still is nearly more than I can bear. When I glance back at the paramedic, he gives me a sympathetic look, and I know my worry that our baby most likely didn’t survive is valid. The man meets the woman running up to him with supplies in her arms, and they nicely, but firmly, shoo me out of the way.

  “We need to help her now, son. Stay near, we’ll get you right back with her as soon as we can.” They both move in and slide a hard plastic board into the cab. A few minutes later, they’re pulling Cora out, strapped to it, onto the roadway and taking vital signs. I can hear a helicopter coming in while they work, and it lands on the opposite side of the freeway where police have cleared an area. The man lets me sit and hold her hand while he runs to meet the medivac, leaving the female paramedic to finish setting an IV. Soon, they have her on a stretcher and load her up in the helicopter.

  “There isn't room, but they're taking her to Seattle General. You can meet her there.” The paramedic is nice enough to explain, but I have no way of getting there and don't know anyone local to call and ask.

  “Thanks, I’ll figure it out,” I mutter absently as the man moves off to help others. I get my bag and Cora's things out of the truck before I begin walking toward the on-ramp, hoping to get down to a main street and find a taxi. I don’t make it far before a dark-haired guy around my age intercepts me.

  “Hey, man. I have a ride coming if you need one. I saw them take your girl out. I hope she’ll be okay.” The guy is fidgeting and smells like alcohol, but I can’t figure out why he’d be so nervous when he seems to be uninjured. Unless it's the catastrophe that just happened, which would be enough to rattle anyone.

  “Sure, thanks. Do you know about how long? Not to be rude, but I’d like to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.”

  “Should be here any minute. We called for a car as soon as—. Man, I’m so sorry! We shouldn’t have let him drive.” The guy is tearing up, and it dawns on me that he was standing near the SUV the police had been by.

  Sure enough, when I look over, there are three others and a white sheet-covered mass in the driver's seat. “You’re the ones that hit us?" My voice rises with my anger. "You most likely killed my baby, I don’t know if my wife is going to make it either, and I’m stuck on this fucking road with you offering me a ride you should have gotten in the first place!” I’m yelling and have the attention of the police officers nearby. They start to advance, but the guy in front of me waves them off, and when I apologize they go back to what they were doing. Free from their scrutiny, I drag the guy off toward the shoulder of the freeway by his arm.

  “I’m so sorry, I tried," he starts before I can lay into him again. "We all tried. You don’t understand," he stresses, gripping his hair in frustration. "It was my brother, and Cora, and he went off on a bender, and— and, he didn’t make it.” He’s not making any sense with his hand gestures and apologies mixing up
, but when he mentions Cora’s name, I’m on high alert.

  “What do you mean, Cora? How the hell do you know my wife’s name?”

  “My brother is Damien St. Aunge III.” He lets the statement hang for a moment until comprehension hits me.

  “Damien, as in the piece of crap that slapped her around and took her virginity and then tried to claim my baby as his own, Damien? You’ve got to be kidding me.” I shake my head at the irony of it. He had harassed Cora for months after her step-brother, his best friend, had let it slip that she was pregnant and their parents were kicking her out of her parents' house. “Wait, was he following us? Did he do this on purpose?”

  “I don’t know. Her step-brother said she was getting married today, and he went off on a bender. Please, just let us take you to the hospital.” He’s not keeping eye contact, and I know there’s something he’s hiding. I don’t know what it is, but I’ll find out— as soon as I make sure Cora, and hopefully the baby, are okay.

  “Fine, get whatever and whoever and let’s go meet this car, please. For all I know I could be a widower on my wedding day.”

  At my grim pronouncement he gathers the others, and we begin the trek down the on-ramp while the guy is on the phone directing someone to meet us.

  Chapter Three

  Kael

  By the time we arrive at the hospital, I’m ready to crawl out of my own skin. It's been thirty minutes of hell and staff too busy to get an update on the phone. I crash in through the doors, immediately slowing my steps when the desk attendant glances up sharply, and try to calm myself as I ask for Cora. For whatever reason, the guy and his posse follow me in, but I really don’t care. They’d tried to introduce themselves, but I hadn’t paid attention after the one I’d been talking to said his name was Drake.

  The lady looks up Cora's information, giving me a small, polite smile as she delivers the news. “Sir, your wife is already in surgery. If you’ll go down this hall and take a left, then the elevator to the third floor, you can follow the signs into waiting room B. I’ll let the nurses’ station know to expect you.” I thank the woman and begin to follow the directions only to find I’m still being followed.