Bellissimo Rilascio (Beautiful Release): The Family Series #3 (2 page)

Splintered glass mirrors my splintered soul.

I fall to the ground, my hands bloody, and I’m numb.

Finally.

I watch the blood drip down my hand to my wrist, following the descent where it splatters to the bathroom tile.

It’s mesmerizing . . . cathartic in a way. Like the relationships I have; they start so rich and full of color like the blood trickling down my arm; but the beauty slowly disappears. I identify each crimson stream with a name of someone I have hurt or a memory of my own pain.

Who will survive?

Which relationships will be salvaged?

Lost in my own mind game, I don’t hear the pounding fists beating on the door. I don’t hear the barrage of questions being thrown at me. I watch it all happen, refusing to engage or give them answers. I don’t know who or what they want. The paramedics wrap my hands as my brother rushes in. Callie is close behind in hot pursuit. Her beautiful white dress swirls in her haste, floating like an angel. That’s what I want to be.

Invisible, yet present.

Saintly, not the demon I’ve become.

I close my eyes and say one last prayer, hoping God hears me this time.

Chapter Two

Heath

The wedding is tonight. I couldn’t throw the invitation out when it was delivered to me a few days after returning from Turks and Caicos. I couldn’t stop myself from memorizing the date; I stared at it every day wondering. Originally I was going to be Bianca’s plus one, instead it turns out I’m her nothing. My mind has conjured up scenarios . . . Dakota winning Bianca back, Bianca leaving Dakota, Bianca coming back for me. After two weeks, I can imagine the outcome I can’t bring myself to comprehend.

I lost her.

I walked out that night, hoping to force her hand. I wanted her to chase me, to choose me. Our entire relationship involved me pursuing and reassuring. This time I needed her to play that role.

I played a game, and I lost.

I do wish for her happiness, but I still believe it is me that will bring it to her. Her complexity baffles me…so many pieces dangling on a string, desperately needing to be put back together. I want to be that glue, the one she comes to when nothing else in her life is going right. I’m the
one
and nobody can convince me of anything else. Maybe she will find someone else, she may settle for Dakota, but that’s all it will ever be. Settling. I may fall in love with someone new, but she will hold that one piece of my heart reserved for my first love. The same fucking piece Dakota holds in hers, the one I can’t break through and make her let go . . . allow herself to be surrounded by my love. She is my Dakota.

Lynsey isn’t here tonight; she’s become my sounding board. Listening, without judgment. She doesn’t offer any advice either, but she is rooting for Bianca and me. I refused to go to the wedding, despite her trying. I couldn’t watch if there was a chance they would be together. I’m not prepared for that. I haven’t admitted defeat. Hours creep by, and it’s time to start clearing these people out, so I can lick my wounds in solitude. Tomorrow is another day, and I’ll get up and repeat it all over. I may be down, but I refuse to quit. Rolling over and playing dead is not an option. I don’t know how many days will pass where I feel the loss of her so fresh, but I know one day it will get easier, then another day easier yet again.

Time.

All I need is time, but it’s the one thing we aren’t promised.

I see Lynsey come tearing in the door, her eyes scanning the crowd, her face pale. I make a move just as her eyes find me. She’s rushing towards me, stumbling over her long dress, and I catch her before she face plants into the grimy floor. “Whoa. Slow down there, speed racer.”

“We need to go.” She’s trembling beneath my hands, her breath ragged, and her eyes filled with tears. I’ve never seen her anything but strong, poised, put together. This version of her frightens me. One too many times I had to see this while growing up. The fear clawing at your skin, innocence fleeing when the family came tearing in to break down what they held dear.

“Lynsey, what’s wrong?”

“Bianca.”

That one word.

That one name.

Glasses clink together in the wash bin, the soles of shoes stick to the floor as people are rushing, completing their tasks.

Frozen.

I take in what little information she has offered. Everything is closing in.

“What about Bianca?” I manage to choke. Sweat beads on my forehead causing my hair to stick. I don’t know what’s happened to her. I just know it’s bad. Lynsey’s appearance, her seeking me, and the lifestyle we grew up with. If one of my father’s enemies has come back with a score to settle, the debt will
not
end with her. I’ll kill any bastard who hurts her.

“Hospital. I got a call from Callie,” she says hurriedly. I have a hard time following them, but I do hear, “Blood. Not responding.”

I don’t bother answering her or listening to anything else. I have an urgent need inside me to get to her.

See her.

Feel her breath against me.

Lynsey is following me, her sniffles in close proximity. “What hospital?”

“Largo.” It’s a twenty-minute drive, and I can make it in ten if she hurries the fuck up.

I don’t slow; I don’t let anyone know where I’m going. Jumping in my car, I find the quickest route to get to her. I park, not caring if I get towed, and search the waiting area in the Emergency Room for a familiar face. Bronson and Gianna wait nervously. I know Callie is close, and that asshole doesn’t seem to be here. Bronson’s eyes bulge at the sight of me. “Where is she?”

“Getting treated. Calm down, Heath. She’ll be okay.”

“What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know. She left the reception, and next thing I know, the hotel is calling the house phone saying police and ambulances had been called. The staff heard screaming and shattering glass and couldn’t get her to answer the door.”

“Jesus. Why?”

He averts my gaze, and I see him swallow. “Not my story, but I’m thinking it’s bad. There was blood all over her, they cleaned her up, but as far as I could see, her hands were the only things damaged. She punched a mirror in the bathroom until it broke.”

I’ve never known her to exhibit violence. Pissed off . . .sure, but viciousness is not something in her repertoire. “Dakota.” He nods even though I wasn’t asking; I knew the answer. Fuck, when will he finally stop hurting her? “Where is he?”

“At the house.”

“Are you kidding me? He does this and doesn’t follow through to see if she’s going to be okay. He may be your best friend, but he’s a dick.”

“He doesn’t know. He’s passed out. It was pretty bad for him, whatever happened.”

“You said it was her hands. Why is she here?”

“She closed her eyes and wouldn’t respond when we got there. Doctors say she didn’t lose enough blood to cause her to be unconscious, but there could be plenty of factors. They think she’s been through trauma, and her mind is trying to heal. Too much for her to deal with.” His pained stare meets mine, the aftermath of everything his sister has been through weighing heavily on him.

“She can’t give into this. She has to fight through it.” My voice is pleading, but I don’t know whom I’m begging. Bronson, God, Bianca, or myself.

“I missed so much. I was wrapped up in my own life. I encouraged her to forgive Dakota if she could. She scared the hell out of me. I couldn’t get her to respond. It’s like I watched my sister disappear in front of me.” His eyes wander to the clock on the wall, the stress leaking out of his words, and the blame worn like a badge of armor.

“I want to see her.”

“Once she regains consciousness they’ll allow visitors.” I level my stare at him.

“I. Want. To. See. Her. Imagine if that was Callie. We don’t have a problem, but you try to stop me, we will.” He releases a resigned breath and walks to the nurse’s station. After a few seconds, he sweeps his arm towards the door, giving me the signal to go through. I nod my head as I pass, not so much as a thank you but an acknowledgement for not fucking with me.

“Bed seven.” He walks back towards his mom, and Callie comes around the corner holding Angelo in her arms. She looks shocked to see me but doesn’t say anything, just watches me as I stride towards Bianca’s room.

I open her door, tripping on my own feet when I focus on her. An audible gasp escapes me.

Chapter Three

Dakota

It’s still cloudy how I woke up in my hotel room. I have no recollection of anything past watching her walk out the door. Ending our future. That moment stays with me, like a movie reel stuck on the ending. I scrub my face, making sure to get soap and water in my eyes in the hopes I can quit focusing, quit seeing the story of us. Loud pounding overshadows the constant ring of my phone. It’s been going off for the past hour, along with the room phone, and I’ve successfully ignored both, but this has taken it too far. Take a hint. I didn’t answer my phone - that’s a clear sign I don’t want to be bothered, so who the fuck is interrupting my self-imposed solace by waking the entire hotel? I yank open the door to Callie; tears stain her face, eyes blood shot from lack of sleep, hair disheveled, white dress stained with blood.

Blood. My breathing falters. “W-wh-what happened?”

“You happened, Dakota. You ruined her. You did this.” Callie's voice catches on her sobs.

Bianca.

Blood.

No.

I swallow the lump in my throat, “Callie, what happened?”

“Fuck if I know. You broke her, though. Her spirit is gone. Her heart hurts. Her mind succumbed to the misery last night. Bronson got a call after dropping your miserable ass off last night that Bianca was in danger. She had checked herself into the room where she spent her first night with you.” My breath hitches, and my focus is solely on the red stain. “We got there after the ambulance. She spent the night floating in and out of consciousness.”

“Is she alive?” That’s all that matters.

“Yes. Her injuries weren’t serious, but it’s her mind they’re concerned with. Whatever you said or did to her last night has caused a complete shut down. The doctors spoke to her when she regained consciousness, and they don’t think she’s suicidal, but they are waiting for a psychologist’s opinion before releasing her. You’d never know that after seeing her last night. She smashed the mirror. All she kept saying was she wanted the pain to end.”

“Where is she?”

“No. No fucking way, Dakota. You stay away from her. I don’t care what you have to do to ensure that, but the choice is made. I choose her. I’m making the choice you should have made years ago. I hate you Dakota Hyatt, and if you come near her, inflict one more ounce of your torture . . . I will end you. I learned a thing or two from my father. You’ve taken enough from her. You robbed her of everything good, you don’t get to take anything else.” I stare at her. This stranger in front of me. The hatred is radiating off her, causing her body to shake and her words to slice.

I’m at a loss for words. “Why’d you come here if you don’t want me to see her? Is that what she wants?”

“She doesn’t know what she wants. She walked away from you last night, and you need to stay away from her now. For good. You aren’t the one for her. I came here to tell you because I want you to know what you did. I want you to live with this guilt. I want you to bleed. It’s your penance, knowing what you had, what you did, and most of all the destruction you caused.” She believes each word, and I can’t argue with her. It’s the truth.

“Where’s Bronson?” I need to make sure she didn’t drive here.

“Making arrangements for his sister to be able to come home. Making sure we can get her set up in therapy. Immediately. All the damage you did must be erased.”

“Callie,” I begin.

“I don’t want to hear it. Just stay away from her. From me. From us.” Her confrontation is final. Decisive. Words I never thought I would hear and I refuse to believe. I watch her steps, never wavering as she makes fast work of disappearing.

I shut the door allowing the sturdy surface to absorb my weight, knowing my legs can’t hold me.

Bianca.

Hospital.

Blood.

My actions caused this. My conviction that we were meant to be together drove her to the brink of ultimate destruction.

I can’t continue to take from her. I have to let her live. Free to make her decision without constant pressure and remembrance from me. I won’t abandon them, my friendship and love isn’t going to disappear because Callie wants it to. I’ll figure out something, I won’t be a constant presence, but we are all a part of each other, and no amount of anger, betrayal, and hurt can sever that tie. I can’t allow that. I won’t consider it.

I push off the door and do the one thing I can. Face the music. Pay the piper. Get dressed and go to the hospital. I won’t be wanted, and this isn’t about me. She needs our focus. Not us. I’ll give them an outlet for all their bitterness. I warrant it, and they deserve to expunge it upon the guilty party. I’m not a martyr by any means, but I am going to man up and do what I can to rectify my wrongs. Near or far they are my family. Exiled or not, they own a part of me. Solidarity or discord, they own a piece of me, and it’s time I give them all of me.