Unsteady (The Torqued Trilogy Book 1)

by Shey Stahl

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyrights

  Dedication

  Quote

  1 Reddington

  2 Reddington

  3 Lennon

  4 Reddington

  5 Lennon

  6 Reddington

  7 Lennon

  8 Reddington

  9 Lennon

  10 Lennon

  11 Reddington

  12 Lennon

  13 Lennon

  14 Reddington

  15 Lennon

  16 Reddington

  17 Lennon

  18 Reddington

  19 Lennon

  20 Reddington

  21 Lennon

  22 Reddington

  23 Lennon

  24 Reddington

  25 Lennon

  26 Lennon

  27 Reddington

  28 Lennon

  29 Reddington

  30 Lennon

  31 Lennon

  32 Reddington

  Author Acknowledgments

  Meet the Author

  Thank you for purchasing and reading Unsteady. To be notified of new releases join my mailing list on my website at: www.sheystahl.com

  Copyright © 2016 by Shey Stahl

  Unsteady

  Printed in the United States of America

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of Shey Stahl.

  Certain phrases, quotes, and/or lines from the author’s previous works may appear in this book and are copyrighted by the author. This book is a work of fiction. Names, sponsors, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, dead or living, is coincidental.

  Copy Editing: Becky Johnson, Hot Tree Editing

  Proofreading: Janet Johnson, Ashley Sloan and Ashley Schow

  BETA Reading: Lauren Zimmerman

  Cover Image: Copyright © Sara Eirew

  Model: Alex Boyvin

  Cover Designer: Tracy Steeg

  Interior Formatting: A Designs

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  For Marisa. You know why.

  An hysterical cry greets me as I unlock my front door. It’s nothing new. Our little girl is headstrong and has no problem letting you know when she’s not pleased.

  My keys fall out of my hand when I open the door. As I lean down to retrieve them, I yell for my wife.

  “Nevaeh?” I call out, closing the door with my foot as I set my lunchbox on the floor. “Where are you?” For a second, I listen for her to yell back, but I can’t hear anything over Nova’s hysterical crying from her bed. She does this at night sometimes, cries until one of us comes and gets her.

  Jogging down the hall, I open her bedroom door and find her standing on her bed holding her pink teddy bear by its foot. Tears stream down her red face as she shakes. Immediately I know this is not her normal fit. The look on her face is pure fear. My heart pounds in my rapidly beating chest, and my hands tremble as I hold her close. “Shhhh, darlin’. Calm down.”

  She doesn’t. Instead, she picks up with more hysteria and points toward her door. “Mommy! Mommy!” And she screams that, over and over again, so loud I can’t help but think again, this is more than just her nightly thing.

  “Okay, okay,” I say, kissing her temple, attempting to comfort her by rubbing her back. “Let’s go find Mommy.” I keep her in my arms as we walk down the dark hallway, a lump rising in my throat with every step.

  The moment I notice the light from the kitchen on, my chest tightens. It claws at me knowing something’s very wrong. The walls are closing in, suffocating me, and demanding I see what’s wrong.

  As I come around the corner, her bare feet are the first thing I see, and then her legs. She's lying on her back, eyes closed, looking like she’s sleeping. Only she’s not. The sight punches my chest.

  Nova’s screaming hasn’t stopped ringing in my ears as she struggles to get free. Nevaeh doesn’t move amidst the devastating cries from our daughter. She’s so still, undeterred by the noise.

  I notice the blood next, a small amount pooled under her head. Everything seems to move in slow motion once I see that. Me setting Nova down, her screaming for Mommy, me scrambling for the phone. It’s just like the movies, caught in the middle of a nightmare as I try to shake her awake.

  She’s not waking up. Her lips have a bluish tint to them, and her face seems to have faded to gray. “Nevaeh, honey… wake up.” I shake her again. Nothing. No movement at all.

  Oh God. No. This can’t be happening. What do I do?

  “Hold on baby, please.” I’m trying to keep my cool with Nova in the room but I know I’m scaring her. “Hold on!”

  I know she’s hurt. Badly. Gently, I cup my hand under her head as blood wets my hand and I hold the phone with my other hand. “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “It’s my wife.” My voice shakes around those three words. “She’s bleeding. She won’t wake up.”

  “What’s your address, sir?”

  “Uh, 877 Kees St.” Beside me, Nova lets out a hysterical cry as she runs down the hall, and I can’t help but think I’ve subjected her to something she shouldn’t have seen.

  Fuck!

  “Is she breathing?” the dispatcher asks.

  I check, my fingers pressed to her neck as I hold the phone against my shoulder and ear. Nothing. No pulse. “No, she’s not.”

  “Okay, sir, I’ve dispatched paramedics to the scene. They’re about a minute away.”

  A minute? I don’t have a minute. I don’t have seconds.

  Twisting my head to bury my face into my shoulder, I let my hand fall away from her neck. I know in my heart she’s gone already, and there’s no bringing her back. It’s clear looking at her.

  This can’t fucking be happening. No. I want to vomit. It’s rising up as the dispatcher rattles off things for me to check, but I don’t. I stare at my wife, the mother of my child, wondering what the fuck could have happened. “Breathe, baby. Please just fucking breathe for me. Take a breath,” I sob, clutching her hand to my chest. “Open your eyes!”

  “Daddy!”

  Nova’s screams are like a knife in my body, over and over again. “Daddy, wake up!”

  I blink at the screams, trying to focus on Nevaeh and how I can save her. Only I know there’s no hope. She’s gone.

  …

  “Daddy! Open your eyes!”

  …

  “Daddy!”

  I startle awake with a jolt and gasp, sitting up in the bed. My chest heaves with memories racing through my head. Swallowing back tears stinging my eyes, I look at the side of my bed that’s now empty. The place where Nevaeh used to sleep.

  “Daddy?” I jump at the sound of Nova’s voice as she touches my forearm. “Did you have a nightmare again?”

  Blinking rapidly, I make out my daughter’s face beside me, dressed in her princess pajamas with her hair a wild mess. Her eyes hurt me, so badly, because they’re Nevaeh’s eyes.

  I nod, still trying to control my breathing as she pushes her teddy bear in my face next. “Hold Teddy. He might help you.” He’s always a peace offe
ring for her, so she must think I need him too.

  I take the bear and then wrap my arms around Nova, bringing her up on the bed with me. “I’d rather hold you,” I tell her, pulling the blankets back and yanking them over our heads.

  It’s not the first nightmare I’ve had about the night Nevaeh died, and certainly not the last.

  Nevaeh had an ex-boyfriend, Viktor, who I never cared for. He was one of those guys you just didn’t trust, and I never did. I wouldn’t say he gave me a reason not to. I mean, I didn’t get the vibe from him he was mentally unstable. I wish I would have, at least then I would have seen it coming.

  Nevaeh and I were together about a month when I met him for the first time at a party. He got in my face and immediately regretted it. About three years later, he got his payback when I was working late one night, and he came into my home and killed her. I’m not sure he intended on killing her, but she hit her head on the counter in the process and ended up dying from that.

  Two days later, they found him in his car, dead. He’d blown his own head off. Then I understood he was mentally unstable and later learned it was something he had been struggling with his whole life. Did it make it any better?

  Nope. He took my wife from me and now I’m raising our daughter by myself. Nothing makes that okay.

  Nova giggles as my breathing tickles the side of her neck, snuggling up against my chest with the bear in between us. “What are we doing today?”

  I know she thinks it’s weird I haven’t gotten up to go to work yet today. I guess she’s more perceptive to change than I realize. “We have to go to the church today.”

  Nova considers that and pushes her hair from her face as she stares up at me. I love how wild it is in the morning. She doesn’t say anything for a minute, and then she wiggles. “You’re squishing me, Daddy.” And then she rips the covers off us and moves to sit up, watching me. “Why do we have to go to the church?”

  “We just do.”

  MY UNCLE HENDRIX shakes his head, drawing in a deep breath. “Damn, Red. I don’t even know what to say right now. Whatever I can do to help with the shop, let me know. ”

  Since my father passed away, his shop, our family business, is now mine and today, the shop is the last thing on my mind.

  Even though I know my uncle cares, there isn’t anything he can do that’s going to make this any easier on me or the little girl at my feet wondering why life is changing once again. She’s only five, and I can’t bring myself to look at her knowing the look I’ll see. The one of loss.

  Her tiny hand slips into mine, her cheek pressing against the back of my hand as she grips it. Looking toward the sky, I draw in a heavy breath and struggle to calm my racing heart. Though this loss is different, the pain is equally crippling.

  Before me, my father’s being laid to rest and about fifty feet away, fresh flowers surround my wife’s grave, the bright yellow and pink lilies almost blinding against the cloudy sky above us.

  Once again, I am holding our little girl’s hand as she wonders why someone she loves was taken from her so suddenly.

  It breaks my heart that she looks to me—her daddy—the one person who is supposed to have all the answers, because honestly, I certainly can’t explain this. I don’t even understand it myself. One minute he was standing in front of me, drinking a beer on Monday night and winding down after another long day at the garage and the next, I’m on the ground performing CPR on him. It didn’t matter what I did. Not the CPR, not my begging him to hold on and not to leave us. Nothing changed. He still died that night of a heart attack. Healthy man, worked hard, maybe drank a few too many beers but dropped dead at fifty.

  “Daddy, why is Papa gone?”

  Dropping to a knee next to her, I take her precious face in the palms of my hands to brush locks of brown curls from her cheek. Innocent blue eyes, a beautiful reminder of her mother, blink away tears. “Papa’s heart was sick, and he had to go too,” I say, choking back tears. “It was his time to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “To heaven.”

  What else would I say? She doesn’t have a concept of time let alone what happens when you die, or where we go.

  Nova considers my words, her eyes dropping to the ground and then raising back up. “With Mommy?”

  It’s like a knife is plunged into my chest when she says that. Though it’s been two years since Nevaeh was laid to rest, it never gets any easier. I doubt it ever will. She was my true love, the one, and she was taken from me, brutally.

  “Yes, in heaven,” I finally answer, blinking back tears. “Like Mommy.”

  I’m hoping that’s where her questions will end because I’m not sure I believe in heaven anymore. The more questions my daughter asks me about why her mommy and grandpa were taken from her too soon, the more I doubt that I believe in religion for that matter, but I won’t push my beliefs on my daughter.

  “But they’re going to put dirt on him.” Nova stares at the grave, her brow furrowed. “He can’t breathe with it on him.”

  “I know.”

  She lets go of my hand. “Tell them to stop.”

  Pushing her curls from her face, I draw in a deep breath. “They’re only doing their job. Papa doesn’t need to breathe anymore.”

  Oh God, did I really just say that?

  I probably shouldn’t have said that but what else was I going to say? There’s certainly no manual on explaining death to a child.

  Thankfully, I hear footsteps against the concert walkway we’re near. Turning my head, I see my mother. She places her hand on my shoulder. “Red, honey, can you go find Rawley for me? I haven’t seen him today, and I’m getting really worried.”

  If I know my younger brother at all, he’s fucking out his sorrows in the bathroom with some chick. No way am I telling my mother that.

  He didn’t come to the gravesite, and I don’t blame him. It’s a tough day for a lot of us.

  You wouldn’t think it looking at her today, but my mother is the strongest and most selfless woman I’ve ever met. On a day like today where she’s saying good-bye to her husband of the last thirty years, she is putting aside her own grief and is focused on finding my troublesome younger brother and making sure he is okay.

  I nod, standing and reach for Nova’s hand again. “Wanna help me find Uncle Rawley?”

  Nova nods, but doesn’t say anything as she squeezes my hand.

  “Where do you think we should look for him?” I ask, looking down as she walks beside me. I love the way she walks, so confident even at her young age with her head up and sassy demeanor. You’ll never tell my little girl she’s wrong or what to do. Even as a parent, I can’t tell her what to do. I have to give her options and let her decide. I don’t care what anyone says about that either. I parent her the way she wants to be parented, the way that works for her. In turn, it works for me.

  “I think he in there.” Nova points at the church.

  Walking up the stone path, I take the first step and then look back when I notice Nova’s let go of my hand. “What’s the matter?”

  “You go.” She doesn’t look at me. “I gonna stay here.” And then she sits on the steps; her arms crossed over her chest.

  See? No convincing her otherwise.

  The corners of my lips lift. “Okay, darlin’.”

  Turning, I hesitate to step foot inside the church, one I haven’t been in since Nevaeh’s funeral. I actually told myself I’d never step foot in this place again. Looking back at Nova, I bet that’s why she won’t come in here. Yeah, she was barely three years old when her mother died, but part of me still thinks she remembers being inside the church. I pray that’s the only thing she remembers about her mother’s death.

  As I enter, I glance to my left and can’t help a small smile that comes to my lips realizing that once again, Nova was right. Rawley’s in here, seated in the last pew with his feet up and arms behind his head staring at the ceiling. I can tell he’s been crying, but I’d never say anything. Not
my place. We are all dealing with this loss in our own way, and I’ve shed quite a few tears today myself. If you knew my father, you’d understand why.

  Silently I take a seat next to him, slouching. There’s an eight year age difference between Rawley and me, so sometimes it’s hard to know how to talk to him.

  Rawley lets out a heavy breath but doesn’t move. “What are you doing in here? You hate churches.”

  I shrug. “Ma sent me lookin’ for ya. She was worried when she didn’t see you at the funeral.”

  “Yeah, well, I stayed in the back.” Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, he clears his throat. “She needs to stop worrying about me so much. She acts like I’m a baby.”

  “You’ll always be my baby brother.” I reach forward, ruffling his hair with a soft smile, though it feels forced.

  He snorts. “And nobody in this family will let me forget it.” I know what he’s referring to. The last time Rawley spoke to our dad was an argument where dad told him it was time to grow up and get his shit together. Start acting like an adult.

  Rawley’s nineteen. I remember being nineteen and what it was like starting out, thinking you’re untouchable, and then quickly realizing you’re not. Only with Rawley, he hasn’t quite reached the “you’re not” stage.

  Mine didn’t come until Nova was born and I knew then I had to grow up for her. Even more so now that Nevaeh wasn’t around.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I tell him before standing, giving a nod outside. “Come on, man. Ma’s waiting for us.”

  Drawing in another deep breath, he gives the church one last look and stands beside me.

  Rawley doesn’t talk much, unless he’s been drinking and then you can’t get him to shut up. He’s more of a recluse compared to the other men in our family. Maybe that’s why he’s such a great musician. He’s got that brooding personality that’s perfect for it.

  “Hey, princess,” Rawley says, messing with Nova’s curls on top of her head.

  She doesn’t look up at him. Instead, she glares in the distance. She’s upset today, and I know it’s gonna take a while for her to come out of this, just like it will everyone.