Fragile (Shattered Book 2)

by Diana Nixon

  Someone started to pull my jeans. I wanted to protest, but my whole face was on fire. I couldn’t make my mouth move. The dizziness wouldn’t let me go. I felt like the cardboard or whatever I was lying on, was moving beneath me.

  I needed to do something, anything to stop whatever was going on, before it was too late.

  I opened my eyes and saw the face of the guy hovering over me. It was the first time I saw him so close, he was the one who smelled like an ashtray. The scared one and the one I danced with were standing on my right, unzipping their trousers.

  The sound of my panties tearing apart made my fear hit the maximum.

  Here it is – the end of the dance…

  The guy’s lips captured my mouth. His tongue slipped in between my lips in a possessive manner.

  I started to tremble.

  With his hands he took off my sweater; one of the other two bastards made sure I wouldn’t kick him while he was doing that; he held my legs still.

  Only when my sweater was gone and the guy who took if off reached for the waistband of his jeans to take them off, I noticed something hanging on a chain attached to his jeans pocket.

  A knife…

  Its silver blade glistened in the light of a half-broken streetlight.

  “Kiss me again,” I said, rapidly thinking of how I could use the knife to protect myself.

  He smiled, a bit surprised to hear my words.

  The other two guys ‘YEAHed’ at my request.

  He stopped undressing and bent down again to give me another wet kiss. I let him get lost in it, pretending I was enjoying it as much as he did. And then, I did the only thing that I could do at that moment…

  Slowly, I reached in between us, and wrapped my fingers around the knife. Shutting my eyes tight, I prayed…and then sliced my chest as hard as I could.

  Only when I cried in pain, the idiot realized that something was wrong. He stood up and the other two fuckers cursed aloud.

  “Fucking bitch!” One of them said, quickly putting his jeans back on.

  “Let’s get out of here. Now!” The guy I danced with said.

  The one whose weapon put an end to their ‘fun’ gave me a murderous look. Then the three of them took off and ran down the alley, back to where I could hear the voices of the bar’s visitors coming from.

  Resting on one elbow, I looked down at my bleeding chest. There was so much blood…

  I felt like I was about to faint, but I couldn’t pass out without making a call first.

  Clenching my teeth, I reached for my jeans lying nearby, pulled out my phone and called the only person who could help now.

  “Stan, I need you,” I said into the handset.

  “Crystal?” He replied in a sleepy voice. “What happened? What time is it?”

  “Take your med kit and come to the address I’ll give you.”

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “No time to explain, just do what I told you to do. Hurry!” I ended the call, too weak to continue the conversation.

  The wound was still bleeding heavily, but I needed to get dressed before my brother arrived. With tears rolling down my face, I pulled my jeans and my sweater back on and waited, waited and waited some more.

  I don’t know how much time passed before I saw the lights of Stanley’s car illuminating the alley. He shut the engine off, got out the car and ran up to me.

  “Oh, my God… Crys… Who did this to you?”

  He gently touched my swollen lip.

  “My chest,” I whispered, barely breathing.

  I felt like I was falling asleep, too tired to keep my body and mind awake. Later I realized it was the loss of blood that had made me feel so tired.

  “What?” His eyes traveled down my body to where my hand was covering the bleeding wound. He removed my hand and gasped. Fear and shock mixed in his eyes.

  “Don’t tell anyone,” I said, too scared to imagine my parents knowing about what happened in the alley.

  “We need to take you to the hospital.”

  “No!”

  “But you have lost so much blood!”

  “Debride the wound and take me to the lake house.”

  “This is insane… A doctor needs to examine the wound!”

  “You are a doctor! Remember?”

  Cursing, he lifted me up from the cardboard I had been lying on, and rushed to the car.

  “Everything’s gonna be okay, sis.” Carefully, he put me in the back seat, took his med kit from the passenger seat, opened it and took out a small plastic bottle. Then he poured some liquid on my wound.

  I cried.

  “Be patient, I need to disinfect the wound.” He took another bottle and poured its contents on a cotton ball, carefully applying it around the wound. “Are you going to tell me what happened to you?”

  “Later.” I swallowed another impulse to cry. The wound started to itch.

  “Was it something that should be reported to the police?”

  “No.”

  Stan growled at my short responses.

  “You are not being cooperative, sis.”

  “Just do your job, Stanley. We will talk later.”

  But we never did. Because of all the stupid things I had ever had to confess, ending my birthday in one hell of a place and almost getting raped was the last thing in the world I ever wanted to talk about, or remember happening at all. I made a mistake and I was the only one to pay for it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Liam

  Present Day

  I was as pissed as shit. I don’t know why seeing Crystal with another guy still bothered me, but the fact remained. She was pretty happy to see her date – Trevor Armstrong – the last guy in the world I had ever expected to see her going out with.

  I knew their story, everyone did, and despite how pitiful it seemed – I never stopped looking after her. I tried to stop spying on her, I tried to not think about her, and even missed a few of their family events that I never missed before the night that ruined it all. I ruined it all. I knew I should probably talk to Stan and tell him about my feelings for his sister, but for some sick reason I preferred to act like a coward and got what I deserved in the end. She hated me and there was nothing I could do to change it.

  But there was one thing that wouldn’t let me go. Her scar.

  Tonight was the second time I saw it and I just couldn’t make myself stop thinking about it. The thing looked terrible. No doubt, the cut was deep. From what I could see, the stitches were made in a hurry, and I wondered why having one very talented plastic surgeon for a brother, she never tried to fix it.

  I didn’t realize where I was going until the moment I rang the doorbell of Stanley’s house. He and Crystal lived with their parents, and considering the late hour, I hope my visit wouldn’t wake up the entire place.

  “Liam?” Stan opened the door and frowned. “What happened? Are you okay?” He looked out into the street carefully.

  “May I come in? We need to talk.”

  “Sure.” He gave me a puzzled look. “Can I offer you a drink?”

  “Nothing too strong.”

  “Coffee then?”

  I nodded and followed Stanley into the kitchen.

  “So, what brought you here tonight?”

  I took a seat on one of the chairs at the table and sighed. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “How did Crystal get that scar on her chest?”

  A cup Stan had been holding in his hands started to shake. He swallowed and put it on the kitchen counter. He inhaled deeply and said, “It happened a long time ago. Why?”

  “I saw her scar, accidentally. But I didn’t remember her getting hurt. That’s all. But… The thing looks pretty bad. Has she ever asked you or any other doctor to fix it?”

  Stan ran one hand through his hair and sat down on a chair next to mine. With his eyes glued to his hands, he said, “You can’t remember her getting hurt, because I am the only
the person who knows what happened that night…”

  “What night?”

  Stan shook his head, as if he couldn’t decide whether he had the right to tell me more or not. But something was telling me that I wasn’t going to like whatever it was that he seemed to be lacking the courage to tell me.

  Finally, he said, “It happened the night of her eighteenth birthday.”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  “I thought she went to her room… She didn’t tell me she wanted to go out…” He stood up and walked to one of the cupboards, took out a bottle of scotch and poured some into a glass. After he took a sip, he proceeded. “She called me later that night and told me to take my medical kit and come to the address she texted me. She didn’t explain anything… But when I got there, I saw the worst of my nightmares coming true right in front of my eyes.” Stan swallowed the rest of his drink and poured another one.

  “I think I need one too after all,” I said, pointing at the bottle.

  He nodded and made a drink for me as well.

  “What happened to her?”

  Stan smirked humorless. “I wish I knew.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean? Didn’t she tell you anything?”

  “She said she would tell me everything later. But it never happened.” He looked at me with his eyes full of tears. It was the first time I’d seen my friend seconds from crying. “I had my guesses, but she never confirmed or denied any of them.”

  “Do you think she had been…” God, I couldn’t even begin to imagine saying aloud what I was thinking.

  But Stanley didn’t need me to finish the sentence. He knew what I was thinking.

  “There were a few bruises on her hands and her legs, and one on her cheek as well.”

  My fingers tightened around the glass. For a second I thought the thing would break.

  “What happened after you found her?” I asked.

  Swirling the drink in his glass, Stan said, “I helped her as much as I could, considering the contents of my med kit were not even close to enough to operate on the wound.”

  “Why didn’t you take her to the hospital?”

  “She didn’t want anyone to know about what had happened to her. She knew that coming to the hospital would immediately lead to the police getting involved. Doctors never leave things like that unreported.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I disinfected the wound and stitched it up. The only needle I had in my med kit was too thick, but I had no choice.” Stan put the glass on the table and hid his face in his hands.

  I let out a long breath, trying to put together everything he had told me. I was the last person who saw her in the house. What time did she leave? Where did she go? Why did she decide to go out?

  “We never talked about that night,” Stanley said. “She asked me to take her to the lake house and tell our parents she would stay there for another week or so. I did what she told me to do, but I never stopped blaming myself for not taking her to the hospital, for listening to her and letting the bastards responsible for what happened to her stay unpunished.” Anger filled Stan’s every word. I couldn’t blame him, because if I were him, I would feel the same way.

  “So neither she nor you ever told your parents about that night?”

  He shook his head as a ‘no’.

  “But the scar is huge. Didn’t any of them ever see it?”

  “Starting that year, Crystal never went on vacations with us. She either went alone or stayed at home. She never wore anything that would reveal the scar. She threw away all of her bikinis and said she didn’t want me or anyone else to operate on her scar, because it was her punishment for being reckless and stupid. I never tried to push it. But I know that she still lives with that pain. She hates her birthdays and never invites anyone apart from her family and Liz to celebrate it with her. And no matter how many times I wanted to talk to her about the night that happened six years ago, I never dared to ask my questions. Do you think I’m doing the right thing by keeping my mouth shut?” He turned to look at me, probably seeking support, but unfortunately, I was the last person in the world to discuss the events of that night with.

  Because even without talking to Crystal, I somehow knew I was the reason for whatever happened to her back then. As well as I knew I owed her an apology. Only words wouldn’t change a damn thing.

  “I gotta go,” I said, after I swallowed the remnants of my drink.

  “You won’t tell anyone, will you?” Stan asked, watching me leave the kitchen.

  “Don’t worry about that.”

  I left the house in a hurry, feeling as sick as ever. Not even the fresh air could make me feel better. And to make things worse, Crystal and her date just had to show up out of nowhere.

  I walked to my car, watching the bastard park at the front door of her house. He kissed her cheek and said something that made her laugh. She then got out of the car and waved him goodbye.

  “Enjoyed your night?” I couldn’t take back my words once they flew out of my mouth. I was so angry, I would probably punch her smiling date in the face if he dared to talk to me.

  She turned to the sound of my voice and her face turned into an iceberg. “What are you doing here?” She asked in a cold voice.

  For a moment, I felt like sending to hell all those years I spent trying to make myself believe that she didn’t mean anything to me, come closer and kiss her the way I had been dreaming of kissing her for so long. But then I saw the look in her eyes and my dreamy plan broke right there and then, shattering into a million tiny pieces, each and every one of which was filled with agony.

  “I needed to talk to your brother,” I said. “But don’t worry, I’m leaving.”

  “Good.” She blessed me with another hateful look and walked to the door.

  “Crystal?” I called after her.

  She stopped and said without turning around, “What?”

  “I’m sorry…” I said, not quite sure what I was apologizing for: failing to meet her expectations, being a coward or ruining her to the level beyond understanding. Probably for all the above. She turned her head and for the first time in years, I saw her look soften. There was no hate in her eyes; they were full of sadness and pain that I knew I would never be able to take away.

  Unable to stand the look she gave me, I got into my car, started the engine and hit the gas pedal, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world. Even now, I acted like a fucking coward. And instead of talking to her, I was running away, again. Just like I did that night, six years ago, when I thought I didn’t deserve her. I still didn’t…

  By the time I returned home, I was as wasted as ever. I didn’t remember where I left my car, or how I got home, or what my last name was. The only thing I knew for sure was that I ruined Crystal’s life and she would never forgive me for what I did.

  I was being an idiot letting her so close to me and then pushing her away when I knew she was ready to do anything for me, even lose her virginity with me, simply because she thought I was worth it. But I wasn’t. And now, I knew it better than ever.

  I tripped over something lying on the floor and fell down, crashing into Kimmy’s favorite vase.

  Cursing, I stood up and turned the lights on.

  “Crap,” I mumbled, taking a piece of glass out of my palm. Blood started to drip on the marble floor.

  “Liam, is that you?” Kimmy called from down the hall. A few moments later, she walked into the entryway. “Oh, my God! Your hand!” She ran up to me and took my bleeding hand in hers.

  “It’s nothing,” I slurred. “It’s just a tiny scratch.”

  “You are drunk.” She finalized.

  “I guess I am.” I took a few steps forward and bumped into the wall.

  “Double crap.” I shook my wounded hand; the wound started to tickle. I hated the damn feeling. Being a doctor didn’t change the fact that I hated being hurt. “Bring me something to cover it up,” I said.

  “Come with me.” Ki
mmy helped me get to the kitchen and cleaned my wound without saying a word. She was probably scared, she had never seen me like this before, and neither had I. No matter how many times I got drunk, I never felt as shitty as I did tonight.

  “Do you want a cup of tea?” She asked carefully.

  “No, thanks. I want to go to bed.” All I wanted now was to die, but she didn’t need to know that.

  I knew Kimmy wouldn’t ask any questions until I would tell her everything myself. She was just that well-brought-up, never asking unnecessary questions, always understanding and supportive, and probably the best wife I could wish for, if only it weren’t for the fact that she was marrying me because that was what she and I thought would be best for our child. I presumed that she did have feelings for me, but I doubted I would ever be able to feel anything but sympathy for her.

  “I’ll crash here,” I said, walking into the living room. The couch looked like a perfect place to sleep off my hangover.

  “I’ll bring you a blanket.” Kimmy helped me take off my shoes and jacket.

  I laid down on the couch and my world started to spin. Even with my eyes closed, I felt like I was on a fucking carousel, spinning faster and faster with every passing second. I hoped I wouldn’t vomit.

  I passed out even before Kimmy returned to cover me with a blanket. For the first time in my life, I welcomed the dizziness that I knew would take me away from my reality, even though my blissful trance wasn’t going to last forever.

  The next thing I knew, it was morning, with the first rays of morning sun waking me up and my phone vibrating somewhere nearby. With my eyes still closed, I tried to find the damn thing.

  “Hello?” I croaked into the phone.

  “Liam, thank God!” Stanley said. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you all morning!”

  “What time is it?” I rolled onto my back and immediately felt the nausea roll over me. Damn it, the upcoming day was going to be hell.

  “Almost noon. Are you okay? You don’t sound good.”

  “I don’t feel good either.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Have you been drinking?”

  “Bingo!”