The chief fills me in on all the details he has available. He tells me Brie was shot by Hank, but doesn’t yet know how serious it is.
Rising from his chair, he says, “I’ll go back and try to find out how she’s doing.”
Before he can take two steps, Claire comes back to the waiting room to speak with us.
“Chief, I thought you’d want to know that they just took Miss Douglas up to surgery. They have to take the bullet out of her leg and put in a few stitches. Luckily, they don’t think there was any damage done to the bone or the major blood vessels. She’s banged up and it’s going to take some time for her to heal, but she will be fine.”
I put my head down into my hands and just sob. The feeling of relief takes over my entire body and all I can do is let the emotion out. I don’t care who sees me. Even if this ends up splashed all over every magazine in the country, my Brie is going to be okay. That’s all that matters.
Brielle
I wake up to the sound of beeping and I’m in a fog. I know this has happened before; I have been right here. The familiar sounds and the harsh smell of antiseptic surround me. I blink hard a few times, trying to focus. I look around and see that Claire is sitting in a chair by my bedside. From the sound of it, she is playing a game on her phone.
“Claire?” I ask, almost causing her to drop the phone in surprise.
“Oh, Brie. Hi. I’m glad you’re awake. How do you feel?” she asks.
“Like it’s foggy in here and I can’t quite think or see clearly,” I answer honestly.
“That will be the anesthesia,” she laughs. “You are in the recovery room, just out of surgery. I was in the ER when you came in, so I stuck around after my shift make sure you’re okay.”
“What kind of surgery?” I ask, but as the question forms, memories start invading my mind. Hank and blood and pain; guns and the chief. Hank falling and then… Carson. I remember Carson. I try to sit up quickly but there is a jolt of pain in my leg and I can’t make it.
“Relax, Brie. You’re okay. You had a bullet in your leg. They took it out and checked for damage, then stitched it back up. Do you remember what happened?”
“I know Hank shot me,” I tell her boldly. I am not going to make up a story this time. I want the world to know who did this to me. I’ve already faced down death at Hank’s hands and won, so I feel stronger already. I don’t care what he wants me to say. This is my time to be free of fear and of him. As my mind gets clearer, so does my resolve. The only person I want right now is Carson. I look around, but Claire said I’m in recovery. I don’t think they’ll have let him back here.
“Is Carson here?” I ask shyly. I’m almost afraid she will say no. I’m afraid Carson will have taken one look at me and decided I’m not worth the trouble. After all we’ve been through and promised each other, I have to hope he’s here.
“He’s in the waiting room, Brie. That man loves you with a passion I could feel just by being in the same room with him. He’s a keeper. Love like that is special, don’t let go of him.”
“Don’t worry,” I tell her. “I don’t plan to.”
***
I’ve just gotten set up in my own private room when Carson comes through the door. The flowers in his hand are a far cry from the simple daisies he brought me once upon a time. There are at least a hundred roses there in every color I could imagine. He sets them on the table and turns to me.
“Brie,” he says. That one simple word, my name, carries with it the weight of everything I’m sure he has been feeling all night. It’s around eight in the morning and this whole ordeal made us miss the rest of his birthday.
“Carson, I’m so sorry,” I blurt out and burst into tears. I’m overwhelmed with everything that has happened. I know Hank was shot, too, and if he feels anything like I do he won’t be charging in here after me any time soon, so I take some comfort in that.
Carson sits next to me on the bed pushes my hair out of my face with his warm hand. “Brie, Angel, you have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing that happened is your fault.”
“I know, but Carson, it’s all just too much. I know Hank was shot, too, but I’m still scared. You didn’t see him. You can’t know the crazy look that was in his eyes. He hates me Carson. A bullet or two isn’t going to stop him.”
“Oh, Brie,” Carson breathes, closing his eyes. He opens them again to look at me with a pained expression. “Two bullets did stop him, Brie. For good. Hank died instantly when the chief shot him, baby. It’s over. He will never hurt you again.”
I sob harder at this news and for a few minutes, I can’t speak. I’m not sorry that Hank is gone. I’ve felt like an orphan since my mother died, anyway. Hank hasn’t been a father to me in a long time. I’m sobbing with the relief that the worst chapter of my life is truly over and I can move forward. The hope that has grown in my heart over these last few months is in full bloom.
“Carson, I know this is a lot. My own father kidnapped me, beat me and wanted to kill me. It’s a mess. My life has been a mess for a long time, but you saved me once before. Are you still in, even with all the crazy I bring to the table? I’ll understand if it’s just easier to walk away.”
“Walk away? Brie, that is, in itself, the craziest thing I have ever heard you say. It’s like telling the sun it should walk away from the sky or telling the valleys to walk away from the mountains. They’re a part of each other and so are we, Brielle Douglas. In fact, I have something for you. This isn’t how I thought I would give it to you, but I want you to see how serious I am. I want you to know I’m all in. No matter what kind of crazy life throws at us.”
Carson reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black box. Before what’s happening even registers in my mind, he’s on his knee beside my hospital bed and tears are swimming in his eyes.
“Brielle Violet Douglas,” he begins, “you are everything that matters in my life. You’re my morning, my afternoon and my night. When I thought I might lose you forever, my heart stopped beating. You’re my very own lotus flower; every day with you is a new beginning, the start of something wonderful and I want a lifetime of days with you in them. I know your life has been hard; I know love and trust aren’t easy things for you. But, Brie, you have been to hell and back and you have survived. You’ve been through the worst life has to offer and you’re still here with me. Nothing in this world would be better than being with you every day for the rest of forever. I want to make sure every day of your life is more wonderful than the one before it and I’m ready to start right now. Angel, will you marry me?”
I’m nodding and crying and trying to say yes through the waves of emotion flooding through my system. I look down at my hand as Carson slips a ring onto my finger. It’s the most perfect engagement ring in the history of the world, built up into the shape of a lotus flower. It’s a perfect fit both for my finger and for the start of our lives together.
I finally force a few words out of my mouth, saying, “Carson, you started making my life wonderful the day we met. Everything that has happened has led us here, both the good and the awful. I can’t regret a single moment when it means I get to live my life with you. The things that have happened to me are in the past now and it’s our life together I’m looking forward to. We have all the time in the world, you know.”
He nods at me with tears in his eyes before pulling me gently into a kiss that seals our lips together with the promise of infinite tomorrows.
Epilogue
Brielle
I’m standing in the middle of the drab, brown living room, looking at my former life. The memories of growing up in this house feel like they belong to someone else. It has been six months to the day since Hank kidnapped me, and it’s the last time I will visit this place. The house has been donated to a local charity that helps women and children who are victims of domestic violence. I couldn’t stand taking a penny for this house, and this felt like the right thing to do. Those women and children will live here, love here, and heal
here.
The caution tape is gone from the door, but the faintest hint of a blood stain remains embedded in the fibers of the carpet to tell the story of what happened here. Workers will flood through the doors tomorrow and bring new life to the floors, the walls, all of it. The house will be gutted and, where tragedy once stood, hope will blossom.
In the far corner of the room, there is a bookcase. When I still lived here, I was responsible for dusting the shelves, the knick-knacks, the picture frames, and the books. What I was not allowed to do was pick anything up; I couldn’t flip through the photo albums or listen to the music box my mother had been given by her grandmother as a child. Hank would always say, “You don’t have time to think about the past when there is work to be done in the present.”
Over the years, Hank removed almost every trace of my mother from this house. He threw away pictures, tossed her clothes out by the road like so much trash, and even sold her wedding ring to a pawn shop for fifty bucks. I have no idea how the music box survived his purge, but I’m grateful it has. Late one night after Hank passed out, I slipped a photograph of my mother and me into the cover of one of the albums. When it was safe, I would pull it out and look at it from time to time.
Carson stands beside me and watches as I make my way to the bookcase. I bend and pick up the music box, blowing the thick layer of dust from the white enamel finish as I flip it over. I wind the gold key and turn it back, fingering the hand-painted roses on the top as the song begins to play. The familiar notes of Beethoven’s “Fur Elise” sound across the metal strings and I set the box back in its place. I pull the worn photo album from the bottom of the case and pull open the cover. I close my eyes and say a quick prayer that the photo is where I left it. When I open them, I see a tiny corner of the well-loved picture peeking out from its hiding place. I pull it out gently and stare into my past.
Carson has come up behind me and he rests his hand on the small of my back. “Is that you?” he asks, pointing to the small child in a young woman’s lap.
“I was about three in this one,” I tell him. “My mother would rock me every night and read me a story before putting me to bed. I made her stop when I was eight; I thought I was too old to be rocked and held, to be read to. I wish I had let her read to me every night for her entire life,” I whisper. “I didn’t know then that it would be cut so short.”
“We can’t know the future, Angel. All we can do is make the best of what we have right now. I am sure your mother is so proud of you, watching over you in everything you do. She would be so happy to know the woman you’ve become.”
I turn in and press my face to his chest, feeling the love and support flowing from this man that I love. I like to say that I owe everything good in my life to him, but he won’t take credit. He tells me that everything I am was already inside me, that it just took time for me to recognize and embrace it.
We are slowly planning our wedding; the date we set is still eighteen months away, so there is no sense of urgency. We’ve both been busy at work the last couple of months. He signed on to do another movie with Tom, and I’ve been hired to work with Adam and Kate as an official part of the writing team this time. He found a new manager that he loves and severed professional ties with his father. With my encouragement, he has reached out to his dad and his sister more lately, and they’re finally all starting to act like a real family.
A few months ago, we each received a letter from Madeline Young. She had entered one of the top rehab programs in the country and was getting herself put back together. The letters were full of apologies and regrets. I don’t think we will ever be friends, but I’m glad she’s healing.
The new movie is shooting in upstate New York, so Carson and I rented a little cottage near the set. It’s a beautiful area, right on Lake Placid, and it’s really starting to feel like home. I don’t know where life will take us from here, but we’ve been talking about making an offer on the cottage. It would be nice to know we always have a special place to come back to at a moment’s notice, even if we’re traveling from set to set.
A soft kiss on my forehead brings me out of my reverie and I look up into Carson’s beautiful blue eyes. My home will always be wherever he is. We’ve been through so much in such a short time, and I will always be grateful that life placed him in my path. I tuck the photograph I’m still holding into the pocket of my purse and pick up the music box. With one last look around, I decide there is nothing else I need to see here. Nothing else I need to take from this house.
“Are you ready?” Carson asks as he takes my hand.
“I’m absolutely ready.” I smile up at him.
I walk out the door without a single look back. Everything I need is ahead of me. I really have been to hell and back, but I survived, I am loved, and I am free.
Acknowledgements
The very first person I need and want to thank is my husband. He is my everything; my rock, the shoulder I cry on, the father of my three beautiful girls, and the love of my life. Thank you for all that you are and all that you do.
For my 3 girls – I want you to know that you can be anything and do anything. If you can dream it, you can do it. All three of you are so bright and beautiful in every way; I am so proud to be your Momma. I love you forever and always.
For my parents – Thank you for giving me the great foundation that you did and for showing me what a loving marriage is supposed to be. After 41 years, you’re still going strong and it’s an inspiration. In this story, Brielle has one of the worst kinds of parents imaginable. I can’t tell you how many times I said a silent thank you as I wrote this story that my parents were nothing like Hank. I’m proud of this book and I hope the two of you will be, too.
For my best friend – I’d love to write your name in here, but then EVERYONE would know who wrote this book. For so long (20 years!) we’ve been kind of a package deal. Thank you for reading bits of this late at night and listening as I whined about various things. I don’t know how many times I sent a new chapter or a quote at 3 am and you read it right away, giving me the instant feedback I needed to stay sane.
For Toski – Thank you doesn’t seem like enough. You started with an idea and ended with a book cover that took my breath away. The image you created to represent this book is perfect. If anyone judges this book by its cover, I have nothing to worry about.
For Mary – Chica, I can’t thank you enough for all the advice and for setting your life aside periodically to stop and read my book. Filia forever.
To the Badass Bitches Katrina and Jill – You’ve been there since the very first chapters of this book were written and it has been awesome having you guys cheer me on and tell me to get writing!
For Stefanie Pratt (S.H. Pratt) – Thank you for the advice, the edits, the notes, and in general for listening to me, the crazy newbie author, when I needed it.
For my beta readers Becca Liberty, Brittany Alexander, Mary Cowles, Retta Rusaw, Sara Mack and Stefanie Pratt – Thank you SO MUCH. This book wouldn’t be what it is without your help. The advice and notes you all gave me were worth more than you know and I will never be able to say thank you enough for taking your time to help me on this journey.
For Kate Roth – Woman, you’re amazing. Every word you write makes me want more. If I could shout about your books from the rooftops, I would. Thank you for all the texts, the advice, the answers to my endless questions, and for sprinting with me every chance we had. The Kate & Leigha 2015 Tour is going to be amazing and I’m already counting the days!
For Cheryl, Maegan, Patricia, Retta, Wendy & Whitney – Who knew that one crazy, fabulous, amazing weekend would leave me with friends I would miss and care about so much? What happens in NOLA stays in NOLA… and in the VS, of course!
For S.E. Hall – Thank you for showing me what a great author should be. You take care of your own and you do it with fierceness and class at the same time.
For all the bloggers and friends and amazing people who have encouraged
me, posted my covers and teasers, or even just said “Congratulations” – Thank you.
♥
About The Author
Leigha Taylor is a stay-at-home-mom. She has three amazing daughters who, along with her husband of eleven years, are the loves of her life.
Leigha has loved books as long as she can remember. As a child, she devoured every book she could get her hands on. As an adult, she has a to-be-read list a mile long and couldn’t be happier about it.
Leigha also has a great love for music of all kinds. She has a passion for singing and almost never stops; she’s always belting out show tunes, Disney songs and anything else she just can't get out of her head!
You can find more of everything Leigha Taylor on her facebook page: www.facebook.com/leighataylorauthor.
To Hell and Back Page 18
