“Beth, he...umm.”
“Spit it out, Charles, where is he?”
Charles’s eyes shot to Gia for help.
Turning my gaze on my friend, I inquired again. “Gia, what’s going on? Where is Spencer? He should be here. Why isn’t he with me?” By then, I was demanding an answer.
“Beth, he’s gone. No one knows where he is. Teddy even called his father. They don’t know where he is either,” Gia told me.
The panic set in fast as my mind worked over what she was telling me. “Get out! Everyone get out now!” I pulled my hand away from Charles and crossed it over my body. I wanted to be alone. Not only had Nick died in my arms, but now Spencer was playing Houdini again.
“Beth, please let us help you through this,” Charles pleaded.
“No! I just want to be alone. You can help me, by leaving me alone.” I turned away from them, looking at the monitors that were beeping with my elevated heart rate.
“Fine, but we’ll be a phone call away. Do you hear me, you stubborn little brat?” Charles said, eyeing me up.
After both Charles and Gia gave me a kiss, they exited the room. The quiet was what I thought I wanted. But once they were gone, all that was left was the sound of my own breathing and the beeping from the machines. The effects of what had happened in the last twenty-four hours were hard to even believe.
Spencer was MIA and Nick, the man who only wanted to love me, was gone. How had I screwed things up so badly? I was on the brink of giving up. Every time something got good in my life, it was only a matter of time before it went to shit. I was so mad at Spencer and even madder at myself. After everything we had been through, I thought that when I found him last night, it was over. I thought that we were going to put everything out in the open. I was in love with Spencer and, after last night, I knew he still felt the same.
That night, I dreamt of the two men who had consumed my life for the past year. I woke up with a wet face and pillow. The last thing that crossed my mind was holding Nick’s body and Spencer walking away, never to be seen again. The feeling of being totally alone jolted old wounds that I thought I had buried deep down.
I went to wipe the wetness from my face but found my hand held down. I was unable to move it. I opened my eyes and someone’s head was resting on the bed, their hand held tight over mine. All I could do was stare down.
Spencer’s dark hair fell over his forehead. His breathing was steady, as he slept beside me.
Even though it hurt like hell, I moved my bad arm so I could brush the hair off his forehead. He hadn’t left me, after all. He was there with me. I knew deep down he wouldn’t really leave me again. We loved each other, flaws and all, and nothing was going to tear us apart, not if I had a say. He stirred under my hand, his eyelids fluttering open. Sitting up to look at me, he took the hand on his face and kissed it tenderly.
“Hey,” I whispered to him.
The strain on his face made him look older. But he managed to give me a half smile. “Hey, back.”
He lifted his head from the hospital bed and, in one swift motion, he was up out of his chair leaning over me. His warm hands cupped my face. His full lips, lips I thought I would never feel against mine again, came down in a rush. My face was damp again but I didn’t know if it was from my eyes or his.
“Where were you? I thought you left me,” I said against his lips.
He pulled back from me and the bed. The hands that I had come to love dropped from my face as he brushed them through his own hair.
“Spencer, talk to me. You’re scaring me.” I sat up straighter in the bed as Spencer turned away from me, his hands resting on top of his head.
“I can’t do this, Elizabeth.”
The monitors around me went off like crazy. “You can’t do what, Spencer?”
“This. I told you I can’t be with you. Look what I’ve done to you. If you would have--if she would have--I can’t put you in danger like that. If you’re with me, then you’re in danger.”
“Then I’ll be in danger. Spencer, you didn’t do this. That psycho bitch did, and she’s gone now.”
“If it’s not her, there will be someone else,” he said, still too far for me to touch him.
“I don’t care. As long as we’re together, we’ll be fine. I love you--”
“I killed my father, Elizabeth,” he yelled at me. “I beat a man within inches of his life. It’s in my blood. Jesus, my aunt tried to kill us, my father tried to kill my mother, and it’s my fault your parents are dead. Don’t you get it? This is all my fault.”
I sat there in the bed, more confused than ever. I had a few pieces of the puzzle but, clearly, there was a lot more I didn’t know about. “No, you didn’t kill my parents. They died in a car accident, Spencer, I told you this already. Either way, I don’t care. You don’t get to walk away from me anymore. We’ll get through this together.”
“Elizabeth.” His voice rang in the air as he tried to get his point across. “Your parents are dead because of me, my father, my mother, my deranged aunt--Nick, everyone--everyone is dead because of me.”
“Spencer, my parents were killed in a car crash,” I said again, hoping that it would sink in. “You were like eight year’s old when they died. Are you telling me you drove a car on a highway at eight? It doesn’t make any sense. Please, just sit down. Talk to me, tell me everything you’ve been holding back. It’s obvious you’re drowning. Let me help you, let me in.”
Taking a deep breath, Spencer walked back over, sitting in the chair that was flush against the bed.
“Fine, I’m tired of lying to you. You want to hear the truth, here it is, all of it. And when you hate me at the end of it all, I’ll be able to say I told you so.”
Chapter 38
Spencer
Against my better judgment, I sat down and told the woman I loved every horrible, brutal thing that had happened to me or that I had done.
“It started when I was born. I was supposed to be the strong son of Nathan Phillips. I came into this world weak and frail. I was almost four pounds when I was born, but not for a lack of my mother trying. She did everything right. It was my father who made me enter this world as a premature baby. He tossed my mother down a flight of stairs because she forgot his beer one night. That was the night I was born. I spent the first two months of my life in the hospital. They were the most peaceful days of my young childhood. I soon realized that hospitals would become my safe haven, my refuge from a man who I was supposed to call Dad.
“I watched as my father beat my mother then turned and beat me. He was a rough, stern man. When he told you to do something, you did it. I couldn’t tell you what he did for a living. He would come and go as he pleased. But he must have made good money because he would always threaten my mother that he would take me and put her out on the streets.
“The worst night of my life was the night I spent hiding under my bed. What else would a scared almost-eight-year-old do when his parents were fighting? Something was different about this fight, though. I had to help my mother. It was the only thought that crossed my mind as I covered my ears and curled into a ball under my bed. I decided that night that I wasn’t going to let my father hit her again.
“I thought that I could stop it, that I could stand up to him. Even though he scared the shit out of me, I had to try. The arguing became louder as I walked to the stairs. They were standing in the kitchen. My father had my mother by her arms and he was shaking her. Her head looked like rag doll. I yelled for him to stop, and he did, but not before back handing my mother across her face. He threw her limp body to the floor and laughed when I ran to her. He was so evil. How could someone have so much evil in them? He ripped me from my mother’s arms. Her scream for me was heart-wrenching and still echoes in my mind.
“My father sat in a chair and took me over his knee. He beat me, just as he had my mother. I screamed as each blow hit me harder than the last. I kicked my feet and tried to get away. My mother hit my father in the back and begged him
to stop. He laughed again, back handing my mother even harder. When she fell to the floor, her hand covered her face and, when she moved it, blood ran from her busted lip, and her eyesbegan swell.
“She fell to the floor as my father’s attention came back to me. ‘You see that, Spencer, that’s how you deal with a woman.’ I can still hear the evil pleasure in his voice when he said it. ‘It seems as though your mother wants to leave me and take my only boy with her. Guess what?’ The liquor on his breath smelled horrible as he sat me up on his lap and spoke inches from my face. ‘You’re not going anywhere unless I say so.’ He patted my head and let me down to stand on my own feet. He took the bottle on the table and drank some more. I hated my father for hurting my mother and me. He should pay for all the times he’d hurt us.
“My mother sat up and cursed at him. They started yelling at each other again. She was telling him that we were leaving, and it didn’t matter what he thought. She was in love with someone else, someone that was going to take care of us. That sent my father over the edge. I heard the sirens getting louder. I prayed that they were coming to save us. T was my best friend and his father was a cop. I thought that if I could run over fast enough, I could get him to stop my father. I knew there wasn’t enough time. He had her around the neck, and she couldn’t breathe. I had to stop him. I looked around the room and saw his bag on the chair. I knew he carried a gun. He’d let me shoot it, taught me how to aim. I was good for a kid. He even said so. I rushed for the bag, found the gun, and pointed it at my parents. He had my mother in front of him, his fingers tight around her neck. He told me to put the gun down. I undid the safety like he’d taught me. I aimed it at his forehead. He knew I was a good shot. Shit, he had taught me. With both hands steady, I took deep breaths as I eyed my target, just like he’d taught me to. He let go of my mother’s neck, and she fell to her knees before him, gasping for air.
“I didn’t take my eyes off my father. The sirens were just outside now. They were coming to save me. They were finally going to take my mother and me out of that hell house. I looked down at my mother for a split second, and that’s when my father lunged for me. I fell back, hitting my head on the nearby table. The gun was still in my hand. The kick from the gun had made me fall back. My hand tingled from the aftershock. I got up fast to my feet, cocked the gun, and pointed it toward the body that lay still on the floor. A puddle of blood began to spill from my father’s head, where he layface down on the kitchen floor. I’d done it. I’d taken on the beast, and I’d won.
“My Mother screamed and ran over to me. Taking the gun from me, she placed it on the table behind me. Out of nowhere, there was a pounding on the door. “NYPD...” The door was rattling. My mother hugged me tight.
“‘Spencer we have to leave--now.’ She grabbed the gun, and we went out the back door and over to T’s house.
“T’s house was dark. My mother banged on the back door. Mr. Thomas came to the door and let us in. My mother hugged and kissed him. T came down the stairs, and I ran over to him. I told him I shot my father. Mr. Thomas and my mother were talking. She handed him the gun that I had just used to kill my father.
“‘I have to leave, I can’t stay. I just wanted to tell you that I love you. I have to get Spencer out of here, before they come for him.’ My mother was rambling, and Mr. Thomas tried to calm her down, but it was no use, she was hysterical. ‘I can’t lose my baby, I’m sorry, Connor. They will be looking for us. Please help me.’
“I stood next to my best friend and watched as our parents talked. They were in love, and it was obvious, now that I look back on it. All my mother had to do was leave my father.
“‘Caroline, you have to calm down, everything will be fine. Spencer won’t get in trouble,’ Mr. Thomas said, trying to sooth my mother.
“‘Connor, he shot Nathan! I have to run.’ She kissed him then grabbed my arm and pulled me out the door we had just come in through. He ran after us, but went back inside. My mother threw me into the back seat of the car and got in the driver’s seat. She told me to put my seat belt on, and, as she put the car in drive, Mr. Thomas came to her window, hitting it, trying to get her to stop.
“I yelled at her to listen to him. ‘Mom, he’s a cop. He can help us, please just stop the car.’
“‘Spencer, we have to leave. We can never come back. Do you understand? They will figure out you killed your father.’ She was crying and driving frantically. I didn’t know if she meant that ‘they’ were the cops or someone else. I know now that she meant someone else.
“The cop cars didn’t take long to catch up with us. There were tons of them. ‘Mom, please stop!’ I yelled at her.
“‘Spencer, I love you! Whatever happens, I love you, and I don’t want you to feel guilty about what you have done. You saved my life, you’re my hero. You are nothing like your father. I want you to forget all about him--do you hear me--’ I sat in silence ‘Spencer, do you hear me?’ she asked again, as she looked back at me through the rearview mirror. I looked at her beautiful eyes. I had her eyes. She smiled, and all the bruises and blood disappeared, and all I saw was my angelic mother looking back at me. That’s when the lights went out. She was last thing I saw.
“I was lying in the back of the car. There was a horrible smell of smoke, and my whole body hurt. I was having trouble breathing. I began to panic as I looked around me.
“Lights were flashing and men in yellow suits were talking to me, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. The roof of the car peeled back, and a man leaned over, looking down at me. They unclipped my seat belt and pulled me out of the car.
“I layon a stretcher, looking up at the stars. ‘Spencer, you’re going to be fine.’ It was Mr. Thomas.
“‘Where’s my mom? Where’s my mommy? What happened?’ I couldn’t move my head. They had strapped me down so I couldn’t move.
“‘Spencer, you were in a car accident--your--your mother wasn’t wearing her seat belt.’
“‘No! Where’s my Mom?’ I felt the tears run down the sides of my face. I knew deep down what he was going to tell me, even at that age I knew.
“‘She didn’t make it, son.’
“‘You’re lying--where is she? I set us free. I killed him. We can stay with you and T now.’ My mother’s true love leaned over me, holding my face in his hands. He was more of a father to me than Nathan Phillips ever was.
“‘Spencer, you can’t tell anyone about your father. You need to keep quiet.’
“I looked up at the dark sky, as everything hit me. I had killed my parents. I shot my father and my mother was talking to me and looking at me when she hit the other car. It was my fault. It was all my fault. I killed my parents.
“‘Spencer--Spencer, look at me--’ Mr. Thomas called.
“I couldn’t. My eyes became heavy and I just wanted to sleep, so I closed my eyes, intent on never opening them again.”
Chapter 39
Elizabeth
What does one say after hearing a story like that? I sure as hell didn’t know. He’d killed his father, hurt people, but underneath all that, he was just a frightened child, wanting nothing more than to feel safe.
“Was that the night you met the Salvatores?” I asked.
“No, I’d met Ellen and James multiple times before that. They were kind, and they knew the circumstances. Together with T’s father, the three of them made it look like I was killed.
“It turned out my father was high up in a mob ring. There was an ongoing case and the cops were following him to the main boss. That’s why it was so important for me and for everyone to keep this secret. If it got out that I was alive and that I had killed my father, they would have come after me, and I don’t even want to know what they would have done. These weren’t the men on The Sopranos or other mob movies. Nothing mattered to them, not even killing an eight-year-old boy. T’s father knew this so he covered everything up. The Salvatores adopted me and quickly took jobs on the other side of the country.”
> “What about now? What about Natasha, did she tell them, are they after you again?” I asked frantically.
“I don’t think so but, Elizabeth, this is what I’ve been talking about. I can’t put you in danger like this. I knew that from the beginning. I should have listened to my head instead of my heart.” Spencer sat back down in the chair next to the bed. With his head in his hands, he exhaled a deep breath.
“Spencer--” I called to him.
He looked up from his hands. He was scared but, most of all, he was hurting. His eyes had seen so much, so young, and it was clear that he was tired of pretending and tired of keeping everything so closed in all the time.
I knew he was damaged, maybe a lost cause, even dangerous. He was a product of his past, a product of an abusive upbringing. He had anger issues, he had serious trust issues, and now I knew why. I always knew there was more to his story, more to the man that made me forget how to speak and think logically. The fact of the matter was that I still loved him. He hadn’t killed my parents. He was a child, he was an innocent. Fate had taken my parents from me and, in return, had given me Spencer.
I thought back to all the times we’d passed each other in our lives. Meeting in a nightclub that I swore I’d never step foot in, but remembering now, a feeling I had about taking a chance, giving in, and going out for the night. Or when I ran into him on the street outside of the club he’d bought with my brothers. The coffee shop, the park, all of it was fate pushing us toward one another.
We were meant to be together, we were made to take the other’s pain. He took away my insecurities and gave me a confidence I only dreamed of achieving on my own, and I was going to take on his guilt and accept him for everything that he was--good and bad. I was going to love him unconditionally, the same way he loved me. “You know you can’t get rid of me,” I declared.
It took a second, but his smile spread to his eyes. “I can’t promise you, things won’t get worse. If Natasha told anyone from the past who I really am, they could blackmail me or they could come after you. Elizabeth, I don’t know what I’d do if--” He stopped there and hung his head.
Mended-Hearts Page 23
