Drowning to Breathe (39 page)

There were three of them, all dressed in black, masks over their faces, wild eyes staring at her through the dingy duskiness of the room. Slowly, they encroached.

A tiny whimper trembled from her tongue, eyes darting between the three of them. One stood out from the others, taking a step in front, and a shocked cry jutted from her mouth when the malicious blue eyes stared her down.

The fierce need to protect her baby shot through her in a panic of survival.

She spun and raced for the bathroom door.

All she had to do was get to that door and lock it behind her.

There was a window—a window to her escape.

Shea pushed herself as hard as she could go.

But the man in front was faster.

He grabbed her by the hair, taking a handful and jerking her around. In the same motion, his opposite fist struck her at the temple.

Pain splintered through her head and blackness closed in at the edges of her sight.

She fought for consciousness, barely aware he was throwing her to the ground.

Yet somehow her wide, unblinking eyes took it all in on a shocked reel that recorded in slow motion.

“Do it.” The man in charge shouted his command at the other two who stood gaping at her where she had crumpled in a ball.

A voice so familiar.

“Do it!” he shouted again.

The two moved into action, tearing the covers from the bed she hated and ripping the drapes from the windows, yanking open dresser drawers and strewing clothes across the floor.

The ringleader landed another punch to her eye, and she gasped out at the agony of it.

But it was the kick to her stomach that nearly killed her.

Physically.

Emotionally.

She was sure the pain went deep enough to touch her soul.

Shea wailed.

Darkness tried to suck her under, and she wanted to succumb, to give up, but she knew she couldn’t give in.

Fight.

And she did.

She struggled to bring up her knees, to guard herself with her arms and hands, all the while praying harder than she had in all her life.

“No,” she whimpered. “Please.”

She dug deep to find the strength to curl herself into a tight ball.

And the man…he kicked and kicked and kicked.

Battering until she could feel the cuts and wounds he inflicted on her arms and legs weeping blood, trails streaking to the floor and flooding from her mouth and nose.

And still she fought until she’d gone numb.

Senses dulled by the unbearable pain.

Weak.

Because she was losing this fight.

Her arms slipped and her stomach lurched when it was struck with another direct blow.

“No,” she cried. Her body recoiled with the force, and she heaved, rolling onto her side in a silent wail, cheek pressed into the carpet, her insides curled, and she vomited on the floor.

“That’s enough,” he said, as if maybe he needed to convince himself.

The room continued to spin with her fear, with her hatred—with the glaring shock that seemed to have taken her whole.

She watched with the same unblinking eyes as the man who’d beaten her stepped over her as if she were a piece of trash discarded in the middle of the floor. Leaning down in front of the dresser, he took a few pieces of jewelry that had been littered across the floor, then he snagged her grandmother’s ring and necklace and stuffed them into his pocket.

She wanted to cry out, to beg him not to take something else so precious to her, but her tongue was swollen and thick, the words stuck on a muted cry bottled in her throat.

The three of them hustled out, and the back door slammed.

An eerie silence stole over the house.

It echoed back her surrender. Drowsiness pulled at her consciousness, the pain too great. She had the greatest urge to close her eyes and never wake.

No.

Somehow she found the strength to roll to her stomach. An agonizing pain tore through every inch of her body as she fought to climb onto her feet, but they wouldn’t hold, and she fell back to the ground.

Whimpered cries wept from her as she dragged herself on her elbows across the room, the flashing light of her cell phone like a beacon where it had been knocked from her hold and skidded across the floor.

Her bloodied fingers stretched toward it, inches away. They were shaking…shaking. Eyesight blurred. Yet somehow she managed to place the call.

“911…what’s your emergency?”

She could do nothing more than weep.

I POUNDED DOWNSTAIRS WITH
the address Austin had given me clutched in my hand. A frenzy had lit in my heart, a desperation seated so deeply I could feel myself moving without giving thought to any consequence.

I figured it’d been much the same for Sebastian yesterday. The innate need to protect and defend. To right wrongs that had occurred so long ago.

Those wrongs had started with me being set at the feet of a vile, vicious man. They’d trickled down, fed by the mistakes made over the years. Leaving all of us susceptible to Martin’s evil manipulation and greed. Over-indulgences and self-hatred and the overwhelming longing to cover up pain, Mark, Austin, and Sebastian had been prisoners to their own pasts that had somehow merged with mine.

But this time.

This time I would set it right.

My feet hit the landing of the hushed living room. Windows that soared to the sky provided the perfect view of the gorgeous pool and gardens where my precious child hopped from foot to foot on the grass, blonde curls wild and free, innocent smile gracing that cherished face.

Cherished.

Zee had his hands stuffed in his pockets, the smallest of smiles hinting at the edge of his mouth as he stood protectively at her side.

Cherished.

This child who’d been the root of it all. An obstacle standing in Martin’s way. One he’d sought to do away with when I’d refused to do his bidding.

When for the first time in my life, I’d refused to cave.

Cherished.

Emotion clotted in my chest. Too heavy. Too full.

I struggled to breathe because I didn’t know how to do that anymore without Sebastian in my life.

He’d found everything I never thought I would have.

Simple, simple dreams.

I rushed toward the kitchen and slammed to a stop at the entryway, hands darting out to support myself. Lyrik and Ash stood inside, leaning back against the dark granite of the island, sipping at beers, stewing in a silent misery of what had come to pass.

“Car.” The demand shot from my tongue with the velocity of a torpedo.

Lyrik straightened, frowned. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth as he tried to make sense of my outburst.

Ash shifted toward me and placed his bottle on the counter, eyeing me the same way he might eye a wild animal that’d been backed into a corner.

Honestly, that perception didn’t feel too far off.

“What’s going on, darlin’?” he asked with a resurrection of his cocky twang.

“I need a car. Now.” I had no time for explanations, didn’t want to feed any false hope, the same hope that seared like a fire raging inside me.

Ash slanted Lyrik a perplexed glance, before he turned back to me with a shrug and dug into his pocket, quick to toss me a set of keys.

Metal clanked as I snatched them out of the air.

“White BMW. Be careful with my baby,” he shouted after me when I flew into action.

Without a parting word, I bolted from the kitchen and out the front door. My boots thudded against concrete as I ran down the walk to the cobblestone drive, gaze scanning the line of muscle and metal and flash, landing on the white M5 parked at the end.

I clicked the fob and jumped inside.

The deep roll of the powerful engine vibrated, and I shifted into gear, jerking in the drive, totally unaccustomed to manning a stick. I wouldn’t be deterred. I ground the gears, finding traction. At the first stop sign, I punched at the navigation, fumbling as I entered the address.

Chaotic nerves jumbled through me as I made the forty-five minute trip in L.A. traffic, sickness roiling in my belly.

The last time I’d seen her I’d been in the hospital, bandages and braces holding together the broken pieces of my body.

I’d bled.

But somehow…somehow Kallie had been strong.

I’d made a statement to the police. I had claimed Martin had been responsible, that I thought I’d recognized Donny, sure in my heart it hadn’t been a random burglary like the investigators had suspected because of the jewelry that had been stolen and the way the place had been ransacked.

“Stupid girl,” my mother had seethed when she’d leaned over me.

Charlie had stepped from the shadows where he’d stood guard and physically removed his sister from the room. He’d warned her I was no longer her concern, and that he would be
taking care
of her
if we ever heard from her again.

Maybe she’d wanted to insult me, but I was sure being that
stupid girl
had ultimately saved my life. Even though there’d been no proof Martin was involved, just like Austin had said, I’d still raised the question. There was now a permanent record in a file with his name on it. I was certain that’s what had held Martin’s vengeance back for all these years.

Unrestrained tears broke free when I pulled into the lot of the worn-down apartment building. Two stories of dreary, faded white brick walls faced out to the parking lot. Cheap black metal railing ran the length of the second floor and exterior steps.

Impoverished and destitute.

Easing Ash’s car into a vacant spot, I cut the engine and frantically wiped the wetness from my cheeks, sniffled as I tried to compose myself to face a woman I both loved and hated.

I grasped the handle and slowly released the latch. Every cell in my body thundered with anger, resolve, and determination. My spirit was a floundering mess, ruminating with the echo of a little girl’s dreams and a trusting heart that had so badly wanted to believe. That had so mutely trusted.

I lifted my chin and forced my feet forward. My hands shook as I clung to the railing for support, when I climbed the exterior steps. With every step I took, my heart felt like it might explode in my chest. Pressing. Pressing. Pressing.

Uneasily, I glanced once more at the rumpled piece of paper.

2706.

Gulping over the knot in my throat, I raised my fist. My eyes squeezed in a moment’s indecision, hand hovering in the air, before I pounded on the door.

There was rustling behind the thin wood, and I braced myself for what I would find. I knew the address was old and Austin had only been here a couple times, but I had to take the chance she still lived here.

Hinges creaked and wood scraped when the door cracked open an inch. A thin metal chain secured five inches from the top kept it from opening all the way. Through the gap, brown eyes narrowed on me.

That knot at the base of my throat throbbed.

She expelled a resigned breath, before the door closed and metal dragged as she completely freed the latch. It swung open to her back as she strutted away. It was as if my presence didn’t affect her all that much.

She plopped down on the couch that faced where I stood aghast in the middle of her doorway.

Groping for the pack of cigarettes on the end table, she cocked her head to the side and lit a cigarette, brown gaze never wavering from me the entire time, lines around her thinned lips, legs and arms haggard and frail.

Sadness engulfed me. My mother appeared as worn down as the building surrounding her.

She inhaled deeply, held it, before she lifted her face toward the ceiling and slowly blew it out. A thick cloud of smoke lifted in a haze above her head.

“Been a long time,” she finally said as she flicked ash in a tray.

“It’s been a long time?” I couldn’t keep the anger from trembling through my voice.

She laughed a hollow sound. “What did you expect, Shea? A welcome party? Balloons and confetti and a goddamn cake? You always did have your head in the clouds.”

“You’re right…I guess I should have expected the worst.”

As if amused, she shook her head, words fueled by sarcasm. “Heard you went and snagged yourself a rock star. That’s my girl. I always knew you had it in you.”

The mention of Sebastian cut through me like a knife, and I grasped for the courage to speak.

“You don’t get to do that.” I took a step forward as my brow pinched. “You don’t get to demean what’s good in my life.”

And God, everything surrounding him was so good and so very, very bad. My beautiful, beautiful man.

The thought of living without him was more than I could begin to bear. The fact this woman had set the events into motion years ago, held partial responsibility for Sebastian’s downfall, made it that much worse.

My mouth quivered, and I fought a futile battle against the pain welling high and fast, a flash flood of hurt and rejection and devastation rising over my head. I pulled in a choked breath as realization crashed over me.

“That’s what you’ve always done, isn’t it?” I blinked as I tried to
see
her. “Had that always been your goal? To take whatever was good and pure and spoil it?”