Fighting to Stay (Fighting Madly Book 2) (16 page)

“What the fuck did you do?” I shouldn’t ask him this, but I need to know. Gus is the one to get his hands dirty in the company and gets some sick pleasure seeking out his own justice.

“I cashed in some favors from some old friends. They both got a visit in holding. Let’s just say they liked the DA’s plea offer better than our alternative.” And no threat from Gus is ever idle.

“No, you didn’t.” My mind fucking dances just thinking about the vile things that were said. And done.

“Fuck, yes. I should have done it before she went through all that shit, but I thought we had it locked down. Hell, I may still have them do it, too, after the shit they pulled.”

“Did you find out how they knew and Bash didn’t?”

“No fucking clue, but I’m going to find out, you can be damn sure about that. What is…?”

The sound of a god-awful, horrid shriek reverberates through my loft and I’m off before it has a chance to stop, taking my stairs two at a time to get to her. I slink to the wall when I spot her. Hadley’s in the corner of my room. Her hands paw at her neck, sweat covers her face, and her fucking perfect blue eyes are glazed over before she shuts them tight.

I crouch down on my knees and creep closer to her. My stomach is a rock as I thread my fingers through the strands of her hair. The swelter of her heat against me spikes my worry more. “Hads, babe, will you wake up for me? Please, let me see those pretty eyes of yours?”

Her chin trembles as her eyes open. She doesn’t blink a single time, staring at me with no recognition. Her mind’s gone back down the drain. I’m invisible to her now.

My touch never leaves hers, and my voice is restrained as I utter “I love you” repeatedly to her. A couple of long damn minutes pass before she blinks hard. The wrinkles over her eyes loosen as it clicks back in her brain and she focuses on me.

“Was it Bennett in that head of yours?” I hesitate asking. I should have known that tub was too much, should have fucking remembered where she was when we found her.

Should
have.

Could
have.

But
didn’t
.

Story of my damn life.

She draws back from me and clears her throat. “Yeah…. The water was so high, it gets in my nose and I can’t get…his eyes. Reed, please, make him go away. He is in the back of my head and he won’t go away. He won’t ever go away, never. Please make him leave me alone. He’s always there, laughing at me, always laughing.” Hads’s voice pleads with me. Her tears flow like a damn waterfall down her rigid face. Her hands clasp over her ears, muttering to herself about the sounds only she hears. Hads’s face draws blanks again and goes back in the clouds of her mind.

I glance up and see Gus standing in the doorway. His hands are fisted, shaking at his sides. His fucking face mirrors mine, that damn hatred slithering through us for those two fuckers. Those two fuckers who are weighing her down.

They don’t deserve to breathe. They don’t deserve a chance to become better people, because they took a piece of my better part away. Fuck them.

I place Hadley against my chest, smooth her hair, and mouth over her head, “They end.”

Gus gives me a slight nod, another crack of his large-ass knuckles. These fuckers will get what they gave to my girl. And I won’t lose one night’s sleep over it, either.

I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want to see her like this. It guts me because I love her that much. Having her in this much pain stabs me like thorns imbedded in my soul. Hads needs real help, and no amount of love for her is going to make the torment she’s going through better. Not even the slightest bit, but I’ll be damned if I don’t help her find someone that can help.

I wake up with a light shining on my face, a huge kink in my neck, and Hads’s head on my lap. I lean over and all I notice on my girl is the dark bags under her eyes. She looks like she went ten rounds in the ring and lost.

“You didn’t sleep?” I trail my fingers down her face.

She lets out a heavy sigh, carefully sitting up. “No, the dreams were like movies in my head last night.”

“Has that happened before?”

“I’ve had dreams, but never like that, and even those haven’t been for a while, either. I have pills for the night terrors, but they’re at Gus’s. I should have thought.”

I lay my hand over hers and squeeze. “Hads, we have to talk. Last night scared the shit out of me. I have never, I mean…you like that…you have to talk to someone or get help.”

“I know, Reed, I just want to get home. Shit what time is it? I was supposed to be at court at 8:00 a.m.” She pulls her hand away from mine.

My phone is at my side. I have way too many missed calls and texts from people who I couldn’t care less about. “Babe, its eleven but—”

She pushes off the ground, runs out of my bedroom, and flies downstairs before I can tell her about Gus.

“Hadley,” I scream after her. “They took a plea last night. No more court.”

She halts, not turning around toward me. Her attention is on the view outside. Not one thing moves on her as she speaks. “What?”

“They took a plea. Gus stopped by last night and wanted to tell you himself, but you were…sleeping. I’m not sure how long they got, but trust me, you won’t ever have to worry about them.”

Her shoulders deflate and I hear the damn breath she lets out. “Thank Jesus,” she whispers.

The seconds tick by like minutes before she speaks again. “I gotta get to Gus’s place, grab my stuff, and get the hell out of this damn city and not come back.”

I slip closer to her. “You know it’s not that easy.” I place my arms around her waist and tug her into me, holding Hads tightly against my body. Her deep breaths match mine. It takes her a few seconds before she places her own fingers over mine and relaxes against me. I kiss the top of her head and never break my hold on her. My lips brush her neck, feeling the beat of her pulse.

“Babe, I will always love you, fucking madly—that will never stop. You can try to push me away, you can try to run again, but you need to know I’ll never stop. But the shit last night…that’s going to happen again. It’s only a matter of time when something else triggers another attack. And I can’t fight that for you. I want to, babe, but fuck—I
can’t
. If I could, I swear I would start a damn riot for you to get better. But only you can do this. You need help. Real help with fucking people that went to school for that shit. But I’ll be by your side standing next to you watching you fight it, every fucking punch you give it. Because, babe, no doubt in my fucking head that you can beat the shit out of what is clouding your mind. You just have to do it and
want
to do it.” She has to get this, imprint into her brain that I will always be here.

“I just want to be strong again, to be normal and not see him or hear his fucking voice when I close my eyes. Reed, it’s there…every time I go to bed, no matter what I do, it’s in my heart, in my head. Sometimes, just for a second; other times, it’s hours or days. The thing is, I don’t want people’s pity—your pity, because I’m happy,
really
. I love where I’m at now…most of the time. But then sometimes it feels like this elastic band is around me, and if someone touches it, it’s going to snap. That
I
will snap. Last night, after I saw the tub, that band did just that. I was living that night again, but this time was so much worse because I was awake and couldn’t shake myself from it. I don’t know what to do anymore. I just want me back, Reed, that’s it.”

“You’re past that shit you went through, it can’t be changed or fixed, but your future can. It doesn’t have to be lonely or depressing. That’s up to you. There is no way around it, either. You can’t skip over it…better make friends with your demons because they will be with you forever.”

“I need help, like real help, and I’m finally ready to admit it.”

I turn Hads around and my stare penetrates hers. I expect the tears in her eyes to be there, like they have been so many times before. But they aren’t there. She gets it. She accepts it.

“Hads, you say you are weak, but it just took balls of steel to admit that. I’ll be there, I pinky.”

I pull her down to the couch, draw her to my lap, and open my laptop on the table. “We’ll find a place together.”

Two hours later, the plan is hatched out, calls have been made, and things are set in motion. My girl is finally sleeping on my couch, one of my blankets cocooning her. Hads’s face and her body are so much more relaxed than last night. She’s content.

I know what needs to be done. The right thing to do for her and, in the long run, for us. I swore I’ll be there, and for once, my girl is going to be my first fucking choice I make. The one I pick first. She should always have been.

Fight be damned.

Everything be damned except Hads.

Me: I’m out of the fight. Call Daily.

Laura: I should warn you as your PA this is completely stupid and highly irresponsible, but as your friend, damn it’s about time.

Four days later, we pull into a secluded cabin in the woods in the North Georgia Mountains, which was converted to use as a small treatment center. She wanted simple and quiet and she got just that.

“You ready, babe?” I put my car in park and take Hads’s hand in mine.

“If I told you no, could I leave?”

“I would do anything you fucking asked, but you got this shit.”

Her door opens, breaking our conversation. Hads glances over at me and then back to the building. Her chest lifts as she takes a deep breath and her throat moves with each swallow.

“Another goodbye.”

“Never, Reed, never.” Hadley wraps her arms around my neck and places a soft kiss on my cheek.

“Babe, go. Call me when you get time, but remember this is for you.”

“I will, thanks, Reed. It means the world to have you by my side.” She unwraps her arms from around me but she holds my hand until she can’t anymore. And steps out of my car. With one long look over her shoulder and a single fucking smile that kicks me in the balls, she walks in the door to a place I fucking hope can show her how to cope with the shit that lives inside her.

Time... It’s funny, when you want it, you don’t get it. Everything moves quickly, passing you by with a trail of dust. But when you don’t want it, you get plenty of it. Seconds, minutes, hours move at a snail’s pace. And that’s what I have here.

All the time in the world.

I walked through those doors messed up, lost, and a coward, wanting to find another version, but how many versions of myself could I recreate? The answer is none, but I’m gaining the tools to learn to deal with the aftermath of the version I have.

Three weeks of opening up scars I stitched in my head, of facing things I blocked out, hasn’t always been welcomed with open arms, but with the growth came a new understanding, and an acceptance of what I went through comes each time I share.

Even though I could have found another doctor, Graham comes for my private meetings every day. I like how he pushes me. How he doesn’t sugar coat things to make it easier. I used my trip to Columbia as therapy and it was, at least in a tiny part. It forced me to see the bigger picture in how the world worked. But I came back, not all the way healed. Old scars were still present and new ones were made. I was reckless with my mental health and I threw myself back in day-to-day life too fast, with too much fear and too much unresolved. All of that combined did nothing but cause me to have my inevitable breakdown.

Week two here, after many meetings and sit downs with different specialized therapists, I was officially diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. Something I only thought was for soldiers returning home from war, but it’s not only them. It could happen to anyone.

We have a group here for us—three soldiers, two rape victims, two battered wives, and me. We all fight with it in one form or another, and we all want these demons gone, but we all understand it takes time, and even with that, those demons will always be there; it’s just how we learn to cope with them and not let them take over anymore. They understand me and I understand them; we talk about our feelings, thoughts, wishes—everything, even outside of our groups.

I leave my last session for the night and I only want three things: a cup of tea, my nightly phone call to Reed, and sleep. Graham and I have worked up to my triggers, what could cause them and what I can do to control them when they do come. Because I will never be one hundred percent cured from the things that plague me. But it always makes me mentally and physically exhausted when I talk about them or have to fight them off.

The first day he brought pictures of Bennett and Krystal in caused my heart to race. The second day we spent talking about one of Reed’s sex tapes and it made me crazy, but not because it’s a trigger, but rather because it stings. Tonight, he pulled out the big guns by mentioning a bath and I freaked. But with Graham’s urging and his tips, it helps to pull myself out of my head. “
Stare at something, Hadley. Sing a happy song, think of a good time, pick a movie and watch it in your head.
” It took too long for me to slip away because every time I would think of happy times, they either revolved around Reed, or my family, and that caused me to crawl deeper in my head with water splashing around me. But finally, I pushed a thought through my head of me and Courtney, both freshmen in college, dancing around our dorm singing Mariah Carey at the top of our lungs. And it worked.

Finally, I was able to beat it down.

Graham’s face when I came out was something I never thought I would see. He was proud, and I’ll never forget what he said at the end of our session. “You’re past it…that pain you endured can’t be fixed, but how you deal with it can be. And, Hadley, you are doing it and doing one hell of a job at it.”

I take a detour to the courtyard and fix a hot tea. A couple of people from my group are sitting outside drinking coffee.

“Can you believe tomorrow is family day? I can’t wait to see my kids,” Carol says.

“I only have my sister coming.” I feel for Drew. His father and mother won’t accept him after he got into too much trouble.

“How about you, Hadley?”

“I’m not looking forward to it at all.” Here, you can’t hide feelings if you want to take a step to getting better. No sweeping shit under the rug, so I stopped doing it my second day. I don’t want to see my dad, Matt, or Mark. At all. But Graham did bring up the point about if I do have a breakdown, at least I’m here where people could talk me through it. So it’s now or never.

“Hadley, are you ready for today?”

“No,” I say with a laugh.

“Talk about what you want, and refer to your notes if you get lost.”

“Got it.” My knees bounce on their own and I clutch onto my notes like a lifeline.

“I’m going to go get them and we will meet now, and after that, it’s up to you if you want to do any of the other family activities with them.”

“Got it.”

My father comes in first, the man who always looked in control. Only now, he looks lost when he spots me. He makes a move toward me, but Matt comes in behind him and pats him on the shoulder before he runs up to me with a huge hug. My arms don’t go around him. He only brushes it off and takes the seat next to me. And last but not least, Mark, my real father, comes in giving me one single glance before he sits down in the spot the farthest away. Surprising? No. Hurts me? Yes.

Graham sits to the empty spot to my left and speaks to us. “Hadley has been working on a lot here, and one of her downfalls is holding her feelings in. And to be honest with you all, she didn’t want you to come today, because she still wants to hold it in. But she isn’t. Right?”

“Yes,” I answer, folding and unfolding my notes.

“I’m here as a common thread, to stir conversations to make them beneficial for both parties. Hadley has written a letter that she should read first and then we’ll go from there.”

I glance down at my papers and nothing comes out of my mouth. Matt elbows me once and offers a small smile. “Oh, my turn. Okay.

“Dear Dad,

My pain for the secrets you held is deep. I don’t even know how to tell you how broken it felt to hear it from someone that wasn’t you, my daddy, who I thought I could always trust to hear the truth from. If you told me earlier, or if you wanted to keep it a secret, it doesn’t matter because it’s out now and I didn’t hear it from you or even when mom was alive. I want to know why you kept it a secret.

Matt—my brother who always had my back. I like to think you didn’t know, and that if you did, you would have told me. But I think a lot about that night I brought you home and you were rambling on about Mark and Andrea, and I wonder if you let me down, too.

Mark—I’ve always known you didn’t love me, the way you look at me and talk down to me, I came to terms with that long ago, but you not loving me now hurts to the core. I’m your daughter, the one you are supposed to love unconditionally, and I didn’t get that ever from you, and I want to know why.

That’s it, because nothing else is important.”

Graham looks over at Matt. “Your answer will probably be the easiest. So did you know the truth?”

“No, not a clue. I was just as shocked in the courtroom as you were, Hads. I’m not saying if I knew I would have told you, though. But, sis, I didn’t have a clue.”

“Thanks, bro.” And that makes me feel a little better.

“Okay next I know William and Mark’s answers go hand in hand. Who wants to answer?”

“I will,” Mark volunteers. “First, Hadley, you are wrong. I loved you from the moment I found out, but it wasn’t ever easy. Andrea and I were high school sweethearts, and I loved her like crazy. She found out she was pregnant when I was only fifteen, and we had our whole lives ahead of us. But we were planning on keeping you the entire pregnancy even though her family hated that idea—that we were ruining our lives but we were set on us being a family. When she found out you were a girl, she was the one that named you Hadley, you know. But when her due date got close, she got more distant, never coming to school. And right when you were born, something in Andrea really changed. Her father forbid her to talk to any of us and I don’t think it helped her. The day she was released from the hospital, I ended up forcing my way into their home and we were talking about how Andrea changed her mind. That they were going to give you up for adoption. You don’t understand, Hadley, I couldn’t let that happen. I was too shocked. I loved you so much, I did. I do. I came home that night and told Mom and Dad that I couldn’t raise you by myself, but the thought of never seeing you, I couldn’t handle it. Together we came up with the plan to keep you here in the family and raise you as their own. That way, you can be in our lives and have a stable home.

“I thought—we thought—that was the best, ideal situation for everyone. And when Andrea signed the papers, she became even unstable. The night….she tried to kill herself, it gutted me. She was my first fucking love, and I had a terrible time understanding why she did it to you or to me and I snapped. I saw you then as the problem. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Something comes over me. Hurt and anger swell inside me. All the situations in the past prove we will never be more than strangers that share a last name and some genes. “You are sorry? Really sorry for what you did? For acting like I was a burden? Well, you know what? I don’t accept it! You should have tried better!”

“I tried to be a good brother as I got older, but you and Matt had your own bond going on and I was jealous. I mean my own damn brother had a better relationship with you than me. And then when everything happened with Reed and you broke… It was like seeing Andrea all over again. I was living that heartbreak again. And I’m not strong enough to see you go through it like she did.”

“Strong or not, you should have.” I turn it over to Graham. “Can I be done now? What I needed to hear, I did, and it’s going to go nowhere except me getting more angry at him.”

“No, Hadley, please, I want to say my peace, too,” my dad says.

“Why not?” I sneer, crossing my arms. I got what I wanted. The answers from him are enough.

“I did what I did to protect you. Your mother and I followed Andrea’s health after you were born and she wasn’t stable enough for quite a while to be around you. Then, as you got older and Andrea never came back, your mother and I became too nervous about what you would think about the truth. I wanted to tell you together before she died, but she pleaded with me not to. Your mother didn’t want you to hate her before she died.”

“I could never hate her or you. I just wanted love from my ‘brother.’ That’s what really hurts about everything. I just wanted the truth. And to hear it from the people that wanted me to die,
God
.” My fingers start to tingle, going down to my hands, and it takes a second to calm my thoughts. “That sucked. I wish things were different now. But it’s not. I just… I can’t move on from that right now.” I will get through this, we will. One day, the sting won’t hurt so much; one day, I will look back after this time has faded and understand, but right now isn’t it, and it won’t be for a while.