Forever We Fall: Broken #4 (The Broken Series) (11 page)

Chapter Nine

Kyle

Hospitals freaked me out.

Every time I stepped foot inside the doors of one my body broke into a cold sweat.

That's the way I looked when I found Linda inside one of the white clinical treatment rooms.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered as I stood frozen in the doorway of her hospital room, every muscle in my body locked up in fear – in pure fucking terror. Every instinct in body wanted to bolt, run the fuck away from this room. These rooms were never a good thing. It was built into human beings: a self-preservation warning.

These rooms were bad.

"So, you found me," Linda rasped as she lay curled up in a ball on her bed. "Kinda figured you wouldn't let it go, kiddo…" She started wheezing and held her hand to her mouth. "You're just like your grandfather." She coughed again and I flinched.

She wore no cover-up and my stomach dropped into my ass. She looked so worn out. Her eyes had the darkest shadows underneath them. Her hair was gone.

"So," she chuckled weakly. "Who sold me out?"

"Cindy," I whispered, blinking back the hot tears that were scalding my eyes. I was selfishly regretting following the instructions I'd received in the text from Cindy, telling me to meet her here, because I sure as hell didn't want to know this.

I wanted to go back and pretend I didn't know. I wanted to crawl into her arms and make her tell me this was a joke.

"Don't look at me like that, Kyle," Linda warned, her voice weak and raspy. "You can march your butt right back out of this room if I even catch you looking at me like that."

"Like what?" I forced a smile as I went to her side. Sitting down on the chair beside her, I couldn't stop myself from taking her hand and squeezing it. My hands were sweaty, my whole fucking body thrumming with anxiety. My head was a mess.

This couldn't be happening.

The fear tore at my gut.

All I wanted to scream was
'live, live, live.'

"With that hopeless look in your eyes," she said evenly before sighing heavily. "Don't be scared for me, Kyle. I refuse to let the fear beat me, so don't you dare let it beat you."

"How can you say that?" I managed to choke out. "I'm fucking petrified, Linda. I'm so goddamn scared for you, I feel like I'm choking."

"Kyle," she whispered, her brown eyes filled with tears. "Baby, I am fighting my hardest and I may not be winning, but I am
not
going down without a fight."

"Where is it?" I whispered, blinking back my tears. "How far?"

"Lungs, originally," she admitted, her voice quavering and her thin, frail hand trembling in mine. "And now both breasts, throat, and my bones."

No…

No…

Please god, no…

"Jesus Christ, Linda," I choked out as I clung to her hand with both of mine. "Can they fix this?"

Please say yes.

Please say yes.

Please say yes.

"No, baby, they can't," she whispered. Raising her free hand, she gently wiped away the tears that were trickling down my cheeks. "I'm going to die, Kyle."

"How long?" I managed to ask, though I wasn't sure how because all the air in my lungs had drained away.

"Weeks," she whispered. "A month if I'm lucky."

"No," I roared. "No, fuck no, don't say that." I jerked out of my chair and started pacing. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?" I demanded. "You should have fucking told me. I would have…I could've…"

"It's going to happen Kyle," she replied hoarsely. "There's no point in dwelling, baby." She coughed and spluttered before continuing. "And I don't want anyone to know because I'd rather die with dignity than have people fussing over me like I'm some goddamn circus show."

"A circus show?" I clenched my jaw so tightly I could feel the veins in my neck straining. My heart was hammering so hard it felt like
I
was the one who was going to die. "I would never look at you like that," I whispered.

"I wanted to protect you," she choked out. "I still do. I didn’t want you to go through the pain of watching me die. I love you too much…" her voice broke out as she was engulfed in another fit of choking. "To ask you to do that," she wheezed.

"You're fine," I accused her. "You're talking to me. You're breathing and smiling and fuck…" Tearing at my hair I let out a harsh cry. "How the hell can you be dying?"

"I'm comfortable Kyle," she coaxed. "The morphine helps."

"There has to be something," I shouted as I wiped my face with the back of my hand. "I can fix this." My legs were shaking so badly I could barely hold myself up. I yanked hard on my hair and roared. "No." I shook my head. "You are
not
going to die. No fucking way, Linda. We just need a plan. That's all. Just a really good plan."

"Look at me, Kyle," she asked and I shook my head. "Look at me now," she demanded wheezily.

I turned to look at her. She looked so frail, so feeble.

Jesus...

She was dying.

"Please," I begged, crying hard and fucking ugly. This couldn't be happening. I felt like my soul was splitting – like someone had rammed their fist down my throat. "Please don't die."

"Come here, Kyle," she whispered as she held her arms out. "Come here, son."

Staggering over to her, I fell to my knees next to her bed. "What can I do?" I choked out.

Leaning against the bed, I dropped my head in my hands and pressed my thumbs into my eyes. "You're my…" I shook my head and cried harder. "Please, Linda, please don't leave me."

"You are my best accomplishment," I heard her say and I felt her fingers stroke my hair. "Watching you grow up…helping you become the man you are…" her voice cracked. "I need you to be strong for me."

My whole body shuddered.

Wrapping my arms around her waist, I rested my head on her lap and whispered, "I need you to live for me."

****

Lee

I had just put Hope down for a nap in our old bedroom, when a loud rapping noise on the suite door drilled through my ears.

Slipping out of the bedroom room, I'd closed the door out and rushed over to unlock the suite door, unworried about who would be behind the door. The hotel was safe – or so I had thought. Staring up at my father's face, I now realized I was wrong.

"What are you doing here, Daddy?" I asked as I gripped the door tightly. If I had the courage I would slam it in his face. I loathed Jimmy Bennett – more than ever since my mother's admission. He had known she was alive and he had filled me up with lie after freaking lie. I was furious with him, but the problem with being angry with my father was he could – and would – return my anger tenfold. He could crush me like a fly. I had to thread carefully. He was a difficult man and I was alone in here. Worse, my daughter was in this suite.
Oh god…

"You gonna invite me in?" he drawled as he looked over my head. I knew he was checking to see if Kyle was here. I'd spent most of my life being controlled by my father, feeling utterly powerless, and sometimes – like today – I felt powerless in my relationship with Kyle. "I've been hoping to get you on your own, darling," Daddy said with a smirk. "Seems I've picked a good time."

My breath came in short pants as I struggled to stay calm. I knew what that tone of voice meant. I had feared those words every night of my childhood. "Kyle's in the shower," I lied, hoping to god that the mention of my fiancé's name would make him leave. The truth was I hadn't seen Kyle since I stalked out of his office earlier. I was still so upset with him for the way he'd spoken to me – and in front of Mike of all people. "He'll be out any minute," I added, furiously trying to muster some courage.

Daddy smirked and I knew he could tell I was lying. "You telling me lies, girl?"

My heart sank.

It sank even further when Daddy pushed the door inwards with a flick of his wrist. I scurried away from him. "Why are you here?" I asked as I moved behind the sofa. I needed to put some space between us.

"We have some unfinished business to discuss, Delia," Daddy snarled. He was vibrating with tension as he rubbed his scruffy jaw with his hand. I knew that sign. It was my first warning that I'd upset him.

I wouldn't get another.

"You're looking a little pale, darling," he taunted menacingly. "Look like you've seen a ghost."

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked, barely breathing. My heart was racing so fast I was sure I would black out.

He took one step forward.

I took two steps back.

"Calm down, girl," he barked as he lunged forward and grabbed me. I winced as his hand curled around my arm. Pulling on my arm, he shoved me down on the sofa before taking a seat next to me. "I aint gonna hurt you. I just wanna talk about a few things."

Liar,
I wanted to scream. "Please…" I said instead as I ducked my head, avoiding eye contact. "Kyle will be angry if he finds you here."

"You think I'm scared of that little shit." Daddy laughed and it was a cruel sound. "Delia, you know me better than that. I could snap that boy in two if I felt inclined." I wasn't sure who would snap who if it came to pass. Daddy was violent, but Kyle was lethal. I'd seen both men in a temper. I didn't like to think of what would happen if they were in the same room again.

Sometimes Kyle's temper scared me. It reminded me of my father's. His fiery nature was both alluring and terrifying. It had taken me a very long time to trust and accept that I could disagree with Kyle – I could scream my head off – and he wouldn't hit me. He wouldn't beat me or lock me away. Kyle would never harm me physically. Not like the man sitting next to me... "What do you want to talk about?" I choked out.

"What I'm owed," he said simply as he shifted on the sofa. "I figure since I raised you for eighteen years it's only fair I get some compensation. You shacked up with a damn millionaire and left me empty handed. Where's the fairness in that?"

"I don't have anything to give you," I told him truthfully. "Everything belongs to Kyle. I can't give you what I don't have, daddy."

I watched as he clenched his fists and I prepared myself for the blow. I was surprised when all he did was grab my hand. "This sure looks pretty," he mused as he inspected my engagement ring. "Expensive too."

"I'm not giving you my engagement ring," I exclaimed as I pulled my hand out of his grasp. "I'm sorry, but you can't have it." My diamond engagement ring was too important to me, not because of cost or caret, but because of what it represented for us. For Kyle, it represented our future. For me, it represented our survival.

Grabbing my chin, he leaned his face into mine. "You ungrateful little whore," he roared and that's when I smelt it.

The whiskey on his breath.

If my heart was racing before, it was stopped dead in my chest now. I was in serious trouble. That smell and his temper was all the proof I needed. This was bad. I was going to get hurt. "You're gonna give me that ring," he snarled. "Or I'm gonna cut it off and mail your finger to your asshole boyfriend."

Jerking away from him I attempted to run, but he caught hold of my hand and dragged me onto the floor in front of him. Reaching into his back pocket, I gasped in horror as he pulled a pocket-knife out and flipped it open. "Wait," I begged as I tried to break away from his hold. "Don't. I'll give it you." I knew he was serious. He didn't make idle threats.

I tried to take my ring off, but he batted my other hand away. "I think there's a lesson to be learned here, darling," he spat as he pressed the tip of the knife into my ring finger before slicing my skin.

Pain ripped through my hand as blood rushed out of the slit on my finger. I bit back a scream. There was no point in crying.

He enjoyed my tears.

He got off on my fear.

"I own you, you little slut," he hissed. "You don't talk back to me. You don't fucking breathe unless I tell you to. I can end you, Delia. Any damn time I please…"

"Why?" I sobbed. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I can," he barked. "You don't get to ignore my phone calls." Grabbing my throat, Daddy squeezed tightly, blocking my airways, as he forced me onto my back. Leaning over me, he ducked his face to my ear. "I. Own. You. Bitch."

"Plea…" I scratched at his hand in a frantic bid to break free from his chokehold. My eyes were watering and I desperately tried drag air into my lungs.

"Where's your city boy now, whore?" he taunted.

"Mrs. Carter, are you okay?" My body sagged in relief when I turned my face and saw a short-haired, blonde girl standing in the doorway.

"She aint
Mrs. Carter
," daddy snarled, loosening his hold on my neck and I spluttered and gasped for air. "Now get the fuck out of here, you nosey bitch."

Noticing his attention was on the doorway, I rolled out from under him and managed to knock the knife out of his hand. It fell to the floor and I kicked it under the sofa before inching away from him slowly.

My stomach twisted as I cradled my hand to my chest. I felt so much hatred in that moment and I was disgusted with myself for ever even contemplating the man could change. When I was pregnant, and after his heart attack, I'd held a tiny glimmer of hope that he could turn his life around.

I'd been so terribly wrong.

"Why don't
you
get the fuck out of here," the girl retorted as she rested her hands on her narrow hips. My eyes slid over the housekeeping uniform she wore over her slender frame. She was tiny, not as short as me, but much thinner. Her face held the world of contempt as she glared at my father and I quickly recognized who she was. Karen Valentine – the girl Linda hired when I had my miscarriage.

"Unless you want me to use that knife on your fat fingers," she snarled. "Which in that case, please stay. I'm sure we could have fun." I had to look twice at her because for a moment she sounded so much like Cam.

"Give it to me now," Daddy spat as he glared down at me.

Sliding the ring off my finger, I moaned when the gold grazed my cut. Scrambling away from his towering frame, I threw the ring at his feet. "Take it and go," I begged. I had never been so humiliated in my life. It was degrading enough to be treated like dirt, but an audience made it so much worse. He had always been careful when I was younger and usually waited to get me when I was alone. Cam was the only person who'd ever seen my father hurt me.

She'd walked into our kitchen one day when he had his hands wrapped around my throat. I couldn't remember what I'd done that day to trigger him, but he'd been boiling mad at me and it was a miracle that my neck hadn't snapped from all the throttling. I was fairly certain Cam saved my life that day too. She hit daddy on the back of his head with a skillet and knocked him out cold. It was one of the better days because Mr. Frey had let me stay with them for three whole days.

Daddy had finally arrived at their house and demanded I come home. I remembered hiding behind Cam's father, clinging to his leg actually, when I saw my father's beat-up Chevy truck pulling into their yard…

Daddy leaned towards me and Karen moved closer to us. "You heard her, asshole," Karen said in a firm tone. "Get your drunk ass out of here."

"What are you gonna do if I don't?" Daddy growled as he stood up and strode over to her. "You think I'm scared of a scrawny little rat like you?"

"Probably not," she retorted. "But you should be."

"Oh, and why's that?" Daddy snarled as he smirked at Karen.

"Because I'm wicked fast," she said with a smile as she stepped closer to him. "And I have an excellent aim." The words were barely out of her mouth when I watched her raise her knee and slam it into his groin.

"Bitch," he spluttered as he bent over and cupped himself.

"Go," she ordered as she pointed a finger in the direction of the door. "Unless you want to see how I inflict pain with my fingers." She wiggled her fingers in front of his face and I held my breath for her.

This could get ugly…

"You're gonna pay for that," Daddy roared and, moving quicker than I'd seen him move in years, he sprang forward, grabbed Karen by the hair and dragged her roughly towards him.

"Get off her," I screamed as I shuffled forward and grabbed his leg. Daddy retaliated by kneeing me in the mouth. I fell forward onto my stomach and immediately clenched my eyes shut before curling into the fetal position. The force of his boot into my back knocked the air out of my lungs, startling me so badly I couldn't hold back the agonizing cry of pain that ripped from my throat.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I heard a male voice demand and that voice alone gave me the courage to open my eyes.

David Henderson strode towards my father with a face like thunder. He didn't spare me a sideways glance before closing his fist and punching my father in the nose.

"If you so much as step foot in my hotel or look in her direction again I will kill you," David snarled as he pinned Jimmy against the wall. "Now get out of here, you parasite."

I was shocked to the core when daddy retreated. "This aint over," Daddy warned us as he staggered over to the door and swung it open. "I'm gonna get you for this, Delia. You and your little friend. I will bury you both."

The door slammed shut and I sat on the floor frozen.

His words had chilled me to the bone…

'Pack up your kid and get the hell out of Kyle's life, or I will bury you both.'

"Mrs. Carter?" Karen said as she knelt on the floor next to me and rubbed my shoulder.

I will bury you both.

I will bury you both.

I will bury you both.

"Mrs. Carter, are you okay?"

"It's Lee," I whispered when I could finally make my mouth move. "Lee Bennett."

"Well, Lee Bennett," she said as she stood up and held her hand out for me. "That sure beat the hell out of scrubbing toilets. I don't think my heart has beat that fast since I took off in my dad's car when I was fifteen."

"I'm sorry you had to see that," I choked out as I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and placed my hand in hers. "I'm sorry he put his hands on you. Are you hurt?"

"Nah, I'm good," Karen said in a forced jovial tone as she helped me to my feet. "Who was he?"

"He's my father," I whispered before darting into the bedroom to check on my daughter.

How, I would never know or understand, but Hope was snoring her little heart out in the old travel cot. I sagged in relief and took a moment to watch her, soaking in the innocence and purity that wafted from her. At least she would never have to deal with a man like Jimmy Bennett. I would
die
before my child suffered what I had.

Spinning on my heels, I rushed into the bathroom to wash my hand. The carpets were cream and I didn't want to ruin it by bleeding all over it.

Standing in front of the mirror I urged my tears to stop falling. My chin was bruising rapidly and my back was still throbbing from the force of his kick, but there was no point in getting upset. He'd won. Again.