Connected

by Kim Karr

  Looking at the nurse behind the desk engaged in talking to someone behind her as my clipboard lays idle in front of her, I know I have to do something. So without thinking of any consequences, I quickly walk through the open doors and enter the never-ending long hallway of drawn curtains. Once inside, I pause for a minute deciding the best way to go about finding her. I’m praying she’s actually back here and not in some operating room. Starting with the first curtain, I poke my head in trying not to disturb the person in there.

  After I’ve done this a few too many times, I see a doctor walking down the wall. “Excuse me, doctor,” I say to the short brunette woman in a white lab coat, “Do you think you could help me? My wife is back here and I can’t remember what room she’s in. I had to go out to the waiting room to use my phone to call and check on our daughter.” I’m making this up as I go, and I’m actually wishing it were true, hoping it will be true someday. “And now I can’t remember what room she’s in.”

  Smiling, she says, “Sure. What’s her name?”

  “Dahila London,” I tell her, and I really wish I was saying Dahlia Wilde.

  She walks over to the desk and looks on a clipboard. She then directs me to curtained room number ten. It’s no more than ten feet away, but the walk feels like miles. Memories flood my mind with visions of her dancing in the rain. Her carefree take on life and the beauty she finds in everything is awe-inspiring. What’s ironic is she thinks everyone around her is amazing, but she’s the amazing one. The one I was supposed to take care of and failed miserably at.

  My phone is ringing again and the nurse walking down the corridor shoots me a look, “Sir, your phone is supposed to be turned off when you’re back here.”

  Reaching for it in my front pocket, I hit the vibrate button. “Sorry, Miss,” I say as I see seven missed calls in the last thirty minutes, all from Caleb.

  I hold my breath as I reach to open the blue curtain. Fear and dread flow through my veins until I not only see but also hear the voice of the girl I’ve fallen so deeply in love with.

  “River, is that you?”

  I yank open the curtain to see her sitting in the bed with her head propped back. There’s a bruise on her cheek, and her lip is swollen. She has a bandage wrapped around her wrist where she wears the bracelet from him. But thank God she’s sitting up and she’s talking to me.

  Swallowing hard, I can’t suppress the tears as they instantly start flowing down my face. I jet over to her side and gently wrap by arms around her, careful of the wires connected to her body through the hospital gown.

  She pulls me to her even tighter.

  I whisper because I’m barely able to speak, “Are you okay?”

  Crying, she nods her head, “Yes.”

  I gently cup her beautiful face in my hands, and stare at her. I press my lips to hers, careful to not actually apply any pressure. As relief washes over me that she’s all right, I put my head in the crook of her neck and stay there, unable to move. She’s become so much a part of me in such a short period of time; I can’t imagine my life without her.

  She holds on to me, and I not only feel the strong physical connection she needs from me right now but also the deep emotional connection that binds us together. Her crying continues as I attempt to soothe her. Each of her tears is a tug I feel in my own heart.

  I want to ask her what happened. Who did this? Did he touch you? How did he touch you? I want to fucking kill this man, but right now what she needs from me most is just me. So I hold in my questions until later and just hold her tight thanking God she’s alive and okay.

  Her cries turn into my cries as I kiss her on the forehead. “Everything’s okay now, baby. And I promise I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again.”

  CONNECTED

  We’ve taken this journey

  Down this happy road

  Discovering our love

  And we know we will never be alone

  We feel connected...connected forever.

  River’s POV

  3 days after the attack…

  Wrapped in her concert t-shirt blanket, she’s wedged in between my legs as we lie outside on a lounge chair with the sunrise and the Hollywood sign as our canvas. Her head rests on my chest, our fingers laced together, and my arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, where they’ve been since the attack.

  She was released from the hospital yesterday. Caleb and Xander drove up to Tahoe the day of the incident and stayed until it was time to leave. Caleb asked her more questions than the police, but the story was always the same. It was filled with very few details and a vague recollection of what the guy even said.

  She didn’t see who attacked her. He grabbed her from behind and threw her down, shoving her face into the ground. The only thing he said to her was to give it up and she wouldn’t get hurt. Those words still send shivers down my spine. He pounded her head into the stony trail a few times as she tried to scream around his hand. When someone started yelling from a distance, the guy fled.

  Xander insisted on driving us back home from the resort, and Caleb took my car. Dahlia is physically all right, but she’s shaken. I’m more than concerned about the incident. Caleb has really stepped up, and I’ve decided to suck up my dislike for him and let him help. He’s installing a state-of-the-art security system and has a rotating crew of bodyguards on call.

  We decided to wait a few days to tell her about his shooter’s release. We hope that with the reported attack, he will be picked up again, and she won’t have to worry. I felt bad deleting her messages, but I had to, for her.

  Not being able to see her when she was in the emergency room weighs heavy on my mind, and I wonder why we decided to wait until after the tour to pick a date to get married. So, as we lie together in the calm of the bright crisp morning, I ask her, “Why are we waiting to get married?” I kiss her hair and continue, “It seems like all I was really doing was waiting for you my whole life anyway, and I don’t want to wait anymore.”

  She shifts her body so she’s lying on her side and looks up at me. Laughing a little, she responds, “I’m not really sure. But, when you put it that way, I don’t want to wait either.”

  “How would you feel if we charter a plane to Las Vegas and get married today? I can have it arranged in a matter of hours. We can fly up there, get married, and be back here by sunset.”

  “You don’t mind if your family’s not there?”

  Sitting up, I pull her to me and straddle her legs on each side of me. Gently tucking her hair behind her ear, I gaze into her beautiful eyes. “I won’t be satisfied until I wake up next to my wife every morning. Dahlia, all I want is you and I forever. We can celebrate later once you’re feeling better. We can even have another ceremony here, but what happened in the hospital I never want to happen again. So will you marry me today?”

  Tears drip down her face, but this time they’re not tears of sadness. She leans in and kisses me. When she pulls away, she says, “River Wilde, I would love to marry you today.”

  Six hours later, she’s wearing the most beautiful white dress. We had decided not to tell anyone what we were doing, but when Aerie stopped by unexpectedly this morning, Dahlia caved and told her. Aerie ran out and bought her a dress. It’s short with pearls all over it, and she looks amazing. The bruises on her face are more than evident, but neither of us cares. Pictures can be taken another day. Today is about us, for us. Once she marries me, we will be connected forever.

  Caleb has security set. He wasn’t exactly happy about our impromptu trip. I’m not sure if it was for personal or professional reasons, but he insisted he be the one to accompany us. I agreed because I know she means a lot to him, and he would do anything to protect her.

  We’re ready to go and I glance over at Dahlia who is plugging her uncharged phone into the wall behind the kitchen counter. Chuckling, I tell her, “Come on, beautiful. You don’t need that today.” I’m laughing because I’m usually telling her she needs to charge her phone earlier t
han five minutes before we’re walking out the door.

  I walk over and pull her to me as I gaze into her now brownish-green eyes. “Are you ready to become my wife?”

  Pulling back, she looks at me. “Only if you promise to love me forever.”

  I cup her cheeks and say, with absolute certainty, “Beautiful, I made that promise to myself the first time I kissed you.” I cross my finger over my heart and add, “I promise to love you always. How could I not?”

  Hugging her as tightly as I can, I know I will never let her go. After I kiss her, I slide my nose to her ear and whisper, “And the instant you become Mrs. Wilde, I’m going to show you just how much.”

  She nods her head and I see the goosebumps emerge, and I can’t help but smile. Grabbing her hand, we head toward the door. Amazing Grace starts playing from her phone in the kitchen just as we’re about to take our last steps as River Wilde and Dahlia London.

  BREAKEVEN

  What am I supposed to say

  When the best part of me was always you

  And what am I supposed to do

  When you’re here but not with me

  I’m falling to pieces.

  Ben’s Journal

  February 19th, 2010

  Caleb called me today and told me he had a story for me, if I dared listen. Of course I wanted to listen. I’ve always been game for a dare. He told me it was not a laughing matter, but it was a story that would make my name synonymous with the best of investigative journalists. So of course I agreed.

  February 21st, 2010

  Caleb and I met today and what he told me blew me away. I didn’t believe him at first. I found it odd that someone would contact him just as his tour in Afghanistan ended with an offer like this. He told me their initial contact with him had been immediate. He gave me a USB drive with information I needed to research. When I came home, I loaded it and shit, when he said he had a story that would rock my world, he wasn’t shitting me. I was actually I little sickened by what I saw and knew the story had to come out. This was going to be a walk in the park and I’m going to be famous.

  February 23rd, 2010

  I’ve been up for twenty-four fucking hours straight. This is so much bigger than Caleb ever thought. I called him and left him a message over six hours ago, and the asshole hasn’t called me back yet.

  February 25th, 2010

  Fucking Caleb Holt. He’s been missing for two days, and then he calls and tells me I have to kill the story. He wants me to forget he ever told me. Well, he knows me better than that. I’m not fucking doing that. I started writing the article today and plan to release it the night of my awards show. I have to because it’s not only about me, but about helping other people too.

  February 26th, 2010

  When Caleb told me today what he told me, at first I didn’t believe him. I thought he went fucking nuts. He told me if I didn’t disappear, die actually, Dahlia and I really would end up dead. I walked out of the bar planning to ignore every fucking word he told me and publish that article. When I got to my car there was an envelope on the window. Sitting in my car, I opened it up. Someone had been photographing Dahl everywhere she went. There was even a picture of her with a man behind her at a coffee shop pointing a knife to her back. I threw up instantly. I know these people aren’t messing around. Fuck, what am I going to do?

  February 27th, 2010

  I spent the last eight hours with Caleb planning it. He had it all figured out. He paid someone off to take the fall for killing me. They would eventually be released on a technicality. He even managed to acquire a bag of blood that matched my type so that when I’m shot it looks like I’m bleeding. He wanted all the evidence back. Fuck that, why would I give it all back? I gave him enough and hid the rest in the house, a place no one would think to look.

  February 28th, 2010

  I have less than a week left with the girl I’ve spent my whole life with. Fuck, this is killing me, but I can’t bring her with me. She wouldn’t be happy living on the run. Today I sent her flowers just because I never do that. I know she’s going to think something is up, but I want her to remember how much I love her—forever.

  March 1st, 2010

  I took my Dahl to lunch today. I don’t know why I never did that more often. I even brought her a bag of her favorite peppermint patties. I would’ve gotten her some fancy chocolate, but I know she loves mints the most.

  March 2nd, 2010

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I met with him less than two weeks ago, and tomorrow I have to die. I’ve tried to back out but I’m in too deep and they want me dead. So today I’ll spend every minute with her making sure she knows how much I love her.

  March 3rd, 2010

  Today was the happiest and the saddest day of my life. I love her like I’ve never loved before. I knew it was our last time together, and I needed her in a way I can’t even explain. We shared a bond I’ve never felt with her before. Maybe it was because I knew I’d never see her beautiful smile again, touch her sexy body again, kiss her soft lips again, or even walk this sandy beach with her again. She had no idea what was going to happen or why I was so emotional and that just tore me apart.

  I gave her a bracelet to symbolize my love for her, and I hope she never takes it off. Saying goodbye was tough, but I had to do it to protect her, to save her. Leaving her alone in the fucking car wrecked me. She pleaded for me not to be the hero. I was no fucking hero. I was doing what I had to do to save her. When I looked at her one final time, I wished I were actually going to die. I left her lying on the floor of the car. She believed I was getting out to save her from a crazed lunatic. I guess in a way I was, but her painting me to be some hero made me want to throw-up. I certainly wasn’t her hero. She was in danger because of me. Still, you’d think that I'd sleep better knowing she will always have those final thoughts of me as her hero, but I know that I won’t. I made Caleb bring me here one last time to say my own silent goodbye. I just can’t leave without seeing it. This was our favorite place to be. I may never be able to come back here so I want to say goodbye. Goodbye to the beach, goodbye to my mother, sister, and nephew, and goodbye to her.

  I have visited this place many times, but today it’s different. I’m alone. There are no comforting arms around me. My body trembles but not from the cold; it’s from the realization of fate. A single tear slowly drips down my face as I look into the night and scream, “Why couldn’t we just stay together?!”

  As the wind moans in the distance, thunder crashes and lightning strikes. I stand here just hoping the impeding storm will carry me away and erase the shadow that looms over me. A slow soothing rain falls from the blackened sky, but it provides no relief to my ravaged soul. A mist slowly rises into the night, puddles form in various spots, and the cold air sends shivers down my spine. The dark, the storm—they are both upon me.

  As a lone figure, I huddle to the ground feeling completely lost. As my tears merge with the rain into one slow dance, they only fall further into the darkness. No one is here to see me. No one knows where to find me. Only the vultures notice me as they fly swiftly overhead, seeking shelter against the cold rain. I’m not looking for refuge in this place I now despise, but I have nowhere else to go. I have no hope. I have no future. This is where I belong—in the darkness.

  March 4th, 2010

  I was killed in a random carjacking gone badly. I’m in New York City now. Caleb dropped me off at some apartment he rented under my new name and got me a job as a college professor. Shit, I fucking hate him. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be alive today. I left everything behind except this one journal. I have nothing, and I’ll never see my Dahl again.

  November 17th, 2011

  Caleb showed up at my apartment after one of my classes. He told me something was going down, he didn’t know what and he was worried. He informed me that the house Dahlia and I shared together was ransacked like they were looking for something. He asked me if I had given him everything.

  I lost my shit and jus
t started pounding him uncontrollably and he let me. He never even tried to hit me back. I only stopped when I saw the blood running down his nose had soaked into his shirt and down onto the carpet. He grabbed a towel and held it to his nose but continued talking as if nothing happened.

  I didn’t let him finish as flashes of my Dahl hurt, lying on our floor, kept flashing in my head. I think he sensed my concern, and with a nervous edge in his voice he told me Dahlia wasn’t around that weekend, so she wasn’t there when our house was broken into.

  All I could think was thank fuck, but then I asked Caleb where she was. At first he shrugged his shoulders and turned away from me to sit on the couch, but I pressed him until he finally told me. He said Dahlia had come back to the house with some guy. I pressed further; I wanted to know what guy. Who was he? I got even more irritated as I silently worried. Was he using her to find the information I’d hidden so well?

  My fifty questions continued, and I never paused to let Caleb answer. I didn’t know if I wanted to know the answers. All I knew was I had to get back there to see her, to be with her, but Caleb insisted I stay dead for her safety and for mine. He said they wouldn’t hurt her since she didn’t have anything to do with it, and I was dead.