Broken Mercy

by Stacy McWilliams

  “Where’s Lewis?” I asked in a quiet voice and everyone turned, to face me.

  “Mase,” Quinn began, and I held my hand up to stop him. I didn’t want his condolences. I couldn’t face it.

  “Lewis is with Lexa. They are at the label with the publicist and our legal team. He’s trying to craft a statement for the press.”

  I nodded and turned to face Joe. He was staring straight at me, and he met my gaze without blinking, before he nodded at the back door. I moved without speaking to anyone else, and he followed after me. Once we were safely outside and the door was closed, I turned to face him, to see what the fuck had happened.

  “What happened?” I asked him, and he stood with his arms folded across his chest.

  “Norry and I went to search for her,” he told me in a low voice, and I stared impassively back at him.

  “And?” I asked with my usual impatience in my tone, although my bite was gone, because I was so tired.

  Everything in me was aching, and I was desperate to get back to Amber. Her arms were the only place I could fall apart, the only place I could let myself be vulnerable and I needed her. I needed to hold her and to know she was safe in my arms.

  “We went all over the bars, searching each one. Until one guy in the Barrel rooms, on our second visit, told us a girl matching Helena’s description left with a tall guy, twenty minutes before we got there. The dude was drunk, and we weren’t sure his statement was reliable, but Norry and I kept, on searching We searched the bar from top to bottom and then went in the direction that the drunk guy told us, but there was nothing there. We searched for over an hour, combing every inch of the coastline and we couldn’t find a trace of her anywhere. Then Quinn called because your dad got a call from a cop friend of his, to say that a victim had been pulled from the bay and she looked like Helena. He told your dad that she was being take to city morgue and that he’d be asked to identify her today, but he can’t leave your mom.”

  “So, it really was Helena? Has her body been identified yet?” I asked as my throat burned and my heart ached for my sister.

  She was messed up and I always bailed her out of trouble, but I didn’t understand why she’d done it.

  Why did she kidnap Amber?

  What was there to gain?

  “Not yet... I’m so sorry, Mason. I couldn’t get there any quicker.”

  I glanced up at Joe and nodded at him.

  “Not your fault,” I told him brokenly as my first tears fell.

  Joe stood for a moment and then clapped me on the shoulder, giving me a squeeze, before he turned and walked back inside. Once I heard the door close, I allowed my legs to crumple beneath me and I sobbed into my hands for my sister.

  She was the sweetest kid and would cry if you cried, hold you if you were scared. She promised me that she’d always be around to kick my ass, if I got too big for my boots. Now she was gone and I didn’t know why. I had so many questions over her final days. I just wished she’d told me what she was mixed up in. I could have helped her. I would have helped her.

  It was my job and I failed. I wanted to hit something, anything. I wanted to lash out at everyone. Most of all, I was angry at myself. I’d lost so much over the past few years. First my marriage, then my best friend and now my sister and it wasn’t fair. I couldn’t take it anymore. Everything was such a fucking clusterfuck of a mess.

  Quinn came out with Harris, and they both sat beside me, holding me, as my grief swallowed me whole. When I was done crying, I stood up and went back into the house. The cops were there, but I couldn’t deal with them yet and I couldn’t tell them what I knew with my parents there. They’d just lost their daughter. They didn’t need to know what she was mixed up in.

  It could be a secret. I could ask Amber to leave her out of her report, and then my mom and dad wouldn’t ever need to know about Helena’s involvement. That’s what I would do. I’d go back to the hospital and ask her to do this for me. I had to ask her. She loved me, so she would do it.

  I quickly changed my clothes, grabbed my charging cable, a change of clothes for Amber and shoved them into the bag. When I got back to the hospital, Amber’s doctor came in, so I didn’t get a chance to tell her about Helena. My ears were ringing as he started speaking about her surgery and I asked questions, but I didn’t want her to have it.

  It was brain surgery and I couldn’t face the prospect of losing anyone else, so I snapped at her and then left. My feet carried me outside and I wanted to run away. As I sat in my Escalade with my key in the ignition, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave her to go through the surgery on her own.

  I wanted to. I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t make myself put the car in drive. Eventually, I took the key out and glanced out over the wet San Francisco day. I sucked in a breath and went back into the hospital, hoping to catch Amber before her surgery. When I reached her room, it was empty and the nurse told me she was being moved to Neurology, on the fourth floor, after her operation. My heart sank and I just prayed nothing happened to her, because I’d snapped at her. If that was the last thing, I said to her, I’d never forgive myself. I went up to the Neuro ward and introduced myself to the nursing staff, before asking them to call me when Amber got back from surgery. They were all-star struck and nodded, and I handed my number over to them and left for the canteen.

  Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the canteen sipping on stale coffee and crinkling up sugar packets on the table, when my cell started going nuts.

  The news had broken about Helena and it was everywhere. I was almost out of charge, so I decided to go back to my car and sit there, to wait until there was news of Amber. I got to my car and plugged my cell in, leaving it face up. I closed my eyes, ignoring it as message after message came through. I wasn’t interested. I had to speak to Amber. She was all I cared about. Her and our baby meant everything to me, I felt like such a shit for going off on her, for taking the surgery, she desperately needed. I didn’t want her to stroke out on me and with her being pregnant, I wanted her healthy and whole. I wanted the girl I fell in love with, to have a long and happy life with me and our family.

  My cell started buzzing on the dash and I swallowed a deep breath, before I clicked answer, but it was a journo. I didn’t know how they’d gotten my cell number, and I didn’t care. I just ended the call without speaking. I just wanted to hear from Amber and know that she was okay.

  For the next two hours, my cell rang constantly. Each time I answered, hoping, and praying that it would be the nurses caring for Amber. I was disappointed, because it was a constant journo’s looking for my statement. I texted Alicia and asked her to find out who’d leaked my number. To do her fucking job and do her press release, but I was getting more and more pissed off, as I sat waiting in the car.

  I grabbed my baseball cap from the chair and pulled it on low over my head, to keep myself from being recognized. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, but I pocketed my wallet, cell and left my car. As I began to cross the parking lot, a group of teenagers passed, and they were talking about Broken.

  I hated that video. Karina took it too far and I didn’t know how to stop it from looking like a porno shoot, so I just went with it. We’d ended up needing to remake the video and although it was our most popular song. It was also the song that brought me the least joy to perform, because everyone expected me to look amazing. To sound amazing and it was an absolute, shit storm when it came out that Karina and I were over. Although hooking up a few times, while we made the video, hardly was lifetime material.

  I made it into the hospital and wandered towards the shop. I picked up some candy and a stuffed brown bear that said, ‘get well soon,’ and a soda can for myself. As I walked over to pay, I saw the magazine articles. I then understood why the teens were talking about broken relationships, because Karina had just split up with Roman Deveraux. He was a big time Hollywood actor, and she’d begun seeing him when I ended things last year. I saw her caramel
colored skin, dark braided hair, and full pouty lips as I passed the article. Then I saw my name and paused, staring at the article. The man in the queue behind me, huffed and I stepped aside to let him pass. I scooped up the gossip mag and continued to the counter.

  Once I’d paid for my stuff, I didn’t know whether to go back to my car, or to go grab a coffee. My eyes were hurting because of how tired I was and I knew I’d probably fall asleep back in my car. So, I made my way across the lobby to the coffee shop. I ordered a triple shot latte and a cherry Danish, speaking in a low voice to the server, to ensure that she wouldn’t recognize me.

  She asked my name and I muttered Tom under my breath. Well, it was my middle name, but as I stood waiting, I logged into the bands social media account. Then immediately logged back off, when I saw post after post about Helena. I didn’t miss the posts about Karina though, and I grimaced as I saw people speculating about whether we’d get back together, or not.

  “Tom,” a voice called out and I ignored it until she said it again.

  I moved towards the counter, grabbed my coffee with a polite nod and then walked over to an empty, booth, at the back of the coffee shop. I set everything down and checked my cell again, but there was no call. It’d been almost three hours since I’d last saw Amber, and I was beginning to get anxious. I wanted to do something, to distract myself, so I grabbed the glossy mag and began to scan the pages. Once I reached Karina’s article, I sat back and read the story.

  It told, along with pictures from the Broken shoot, of how we fell in love. She informed them, that my best friend was against us, which was true. Cassie freaking hated Karina because she was convinced that Karina, was using me to get ahead in her career, which wasn’t far from the truth.

  Karina reported in the article that I said I’d always love her, and she’d have a special place in my heart. Which was such bullshit. Then she went on to say that she jumped too quickly into her relationship with Roman, because she wasn’t over me. The article went on and on like that and eventually, I gave up reading it and just sat and sipped my coffee. I didn’t glance around, nor did I move until I finished my coffee and nibbled on the Danish, but I wasn’t really hungry. My emotions were all over the place, and guilt battled with worry. Which in turn battled with grief, as I waited for my cell to ring. When it rang again, I slowly answered it. My blood pounded in my ears as a polite voice spoke.

  “Mr. Michaels?” she asked, and I took a deep breath before answering her.

  “Yes,” I muttered in a calm voice, which hid the fact that I was nervous and apprehensive about the call.

  “Hi, it’s Jen from the neurology ward. I’m just calling to let you know that Ms. Davis is out of surgery and in recovery. She appears to be recovering well, and will be back on the ward in the next hour, or so. You are welcome to come visit between six thirty pm and eight thirty pm.”

  I glanced down at my cell and saw that it had just gone four.

  “Thank you,” I muttered.

  I waited to see if she’d say anything else, but she didn’t and ended the call.

  Should I go home?

  I needed to check in on the kids and make sure they were okay. I didn’t know how to cope with the fact that my parents were back in my home, or with the fact that my sister was dead. I wanted to hide from it all, from all of my responsibilities. Not have to face up to the fact, that the same person who abducted Amber, had likely killed my sister.

  I wanted to speak to Amber and find out what she knew about him. I wanted so much, but what I needed was her to smile at me and hold me, as I processed the fact that I’d lost my sister. My heart began to race, and my fingers itched. I sat clenching and unclenching my fists, staring down at the table, as I struggled to control my breathing. Just as I was about to move, someone came and sat down across from me, when I glanced up, I saw Quinn sitting there.

  “Hey, man. You okay?” he asked as he watched me, almost melting down.

  “No. No. I’m not fucking okay.” I hissed at him, and he leaned over and gripped my arm.

  “Mase, you need to calm the fuck down. People are beginning to stare. If the press find out that you are here, and not at home, where they think you are. Then you’ll be screwed, and you won't be allowed to see Amber.”

  He took a breath and glanced down at his hands, before meeting my eyes again and moving back to sit, with his hands on his lap.

  “Any news on Amber?” he asked.

  I watched as he brushed his light, brown hair back from his forehead. His new tat on the back of his hand, caught my eye and I stared at it for a beat, before I nodded.

  “Yeah, the nurse called. She’s in recovery and I can visit after half six.”

  He smiled at me and then stood, muttering ‘fuck’ under his breath.

  “Mase, come on. We gotta go. Devon Flynn is here, and you know what he’s like. If he sees us, then he’ll make some shit up, or harass us even more.”

  He was staring over my shoulder and out into the lobby area. I stood quickly, gathering my things and followed his gaze out into the lobby. Before we both turned and stalked out the back exit, into the hospital annex. As we walked, I could feel Quinn’s agitation rising and glanced behind us, to see a couple of pap’s milling around. They hadn’t spotted us yet, and we managed to duck around a corner, to avoid being spotted. It felt as though we were kids in a game of tag, but there was no winner and I didn’t want to be papped. Not today. He led us down a corridor, that we really shouldn’t have been down. We walked quietly along and kept our heads down, until we met a nurse pushing a trolley, with a body down the empty corridor. I knew exactly where we were headed.

  No wonder the journos were waiting outside this corridor. It led to the morgue. The nurse turned back to speak to us and Quinn, who was always fast on his feet and told her he was taking me to see my sister.

  “He’s here to formally identify his sister.”

  Her eyes widened, and she gave Quinn an interested glance, and her eyes widened in recognition, as she glanced between us. Quinn barely looked her way and I rubbed at my eyes, as she introduced herself to us.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, my name’s Aimee, I can show you where to go,” she informed us, with her pretty blue eyes crinkling at the corner.

  She was curvy and cute, but I barely registered her as we moved closer and closer to the morgue. I didn’t want to see Helena, but it didn’t look like I had any choice. Aimee walked with us and then buzzed us into the waiting area of the mortuary.

  “If you just wait here, an attendant will be with you soon.”

  Her eyes darted around the room, and she smiled at a couple, who were sitting across from us. They didn’t look our way and I turned to Quinn ready to tear him apart, when the door opened again, and a firm voice called out.

  “Mr. Michaels. Mr. Forester, can you both come with me please.”

  Quinn nodded and followed after the man, but I stood frozen in fear, until Quinn gave my arm a gentle tug and I followed after him.

  “I’m going to fucking kill you, Forrester,” I hissed under my breath at him, and he gave me a sardonic look.

  “What the fuck was I supposed to say, when she found us in the mortuary corridor? Tell me what I could have said that wouldn’t make us look like a total pair of creepers?” he hissed back, and I shrugged.

  “So, Mr. Michaels, I have to tell you that your sister's body is a little bloated now, from her time in the water. Her appearance should return to normal, within the next twenty-four hours. We’ll be releasing her body to the funeral home by tomorrow afternoon, but we need to perform the autopsy first.”

  His words went through me and I stumbled, only managing to stay upright, because Quinn had a tight grip of my forearm. We were led by the rotund man who called for us, into the viewing room, he stepped around us and pulled back the sheet. I spun to face Quinn and my panic must have been evident on my face, because he put his arm around my shoulders, without a word. His arm
was the only thing keeping me from losing my shit. I knew I’d be grateful for him being with me, but I just wanted to run out of the door and never look back.

  “Mr. Michaels, is this your sister?” the man asked in a kind voice.

  I closed my eyes, trying to look anywhere, but on the slab in front of me.

  “Mason,” Quinn murmured.

  I took a deep breath, tasting the cloying sweet scent on the air, that almost choked me. Before I straightened up and turned to face the man, and the body in front of me. My eyes drifted down, and I saw her face, bloated and swollen. I could see her long, dark locks and her scar, from the time she fell off my bike, as a kid. My eyes filled with tears and I moved towards the table.

  “Mr. Michaels, is this your sister?”

  The man was staring at me, waiting on an answer and I cleared my throat.

  “Yes. This is Helena.” My voice broke as a tear rolled down my cheek.

  I wanted to turn back the clock and go straight to her when she called. This was all my fault. He nodded once and then stepped back from the table, placing the sheet on top of her unmoving chest.

  “I’ll leave you alone with her for a few minutes, but please don’t touch the body.”

  My eyes went to his, and he gave me a sharp look, before he twisted the handle down and walked out of the room.

  “Mase, I’m so sorry.”

  Quinn stepped forwards and clasped my shoulder, as my legs gave out and I crumpled to the floor. He didn’t say a word but stood by my side, as my absolute devastation over losing her, washed over me. She was my sister. I was supposed to protect her, and I failed. Just as I began to compose myself, the door to the room opened and two people stepped inside, along with the mortuary assistant.

  “Mr. Michaels, can we have a word?”

  The tallest of them asked me in a formal tone and I pushed up from the floor, dusting off my knees. I stiffly got to my feet and followed them from the room.

  Chapter Six