Beastly (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #3)
Page 27
“Which is?”
“We don’t know how long we have left with her. Whether she’ll need to get another transplant. We don’t even know if she’ll be able to it if it comes to that. She might end up on dialysis for life if she can’t.”
I’d thought she was through the worst of it, havin’ been rescued from the bastards who’d imprisoned her, but apparently I was wrong.
“It’s the sort of thing she’s always tried to ignore so she can live life to the fullest. But now . . . It’s like she’s ready to curl up and dwell on the dark.”
“That ain’t Phoebe.” I didn’t even think the words through before I said them.
“No, it’s not. At least, not the Phoebe we used to know. Look, I’m going to be honest with you. I think she wants you to forget her. To move on with whatever life you can have free from the torment she’s going through.”
“There ain’t no life for me without her in it.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I had a feeling you’d say that, and I wish I had something to say that would help, but I don’t. My daughter . . . she’s stubborn. If she’s made her mind up about this, I don’t think it’ll be changed easily—if at all—and I don’t think it’s fair for you to try to change it after what she’s been through.”
“I understand, but I ain’t givin’ up either. I won’t force her into anythin’, but I’ll wait as long as it takes. I ain’t gonna just walk away and forget her. I can’t.”
“You’re a good man, Beau. I’m sorry I don’t have better news to give you, but I do have to say thank you for helping bring my little girl home.”
He stood and I followed suit. I wasn’t sure whether he’d just leave or try to shake my hand before walkin’ away, so I was surprised when he embraced me. It lasted only a second and ended with a pat on my back, but it was a far cry from the way he’d thrown me against the wall in our first meetin’.
“Thank you for loving her. I wish that was enough for you both.” He turned and walked away, tears brimmin’ in his eyes.
God, how I wished it was too.
AFTER I’D WATCHED Phoebe leave the hospital, keepin’ my distance so I didn’t give her any reason to stress, I returned to the apartment I’d shared with Cass. Between sips of whiskey and bouts of sorrow so severe they drove me to my knees, I packed up all my things. Half of me hoped Phoebe would ask me to visit her one last time, but the rest of me knew it wouldn’t happen. The stubborn girl I’d known woulda broken down eventually, but I didn’t know how much of her was left.
When my cell flashed Angel’s number for the fifth time in the day, I had to answer it.
“How are you holding up?” she asked.
I just gave a mirthless chuckle. Words were beyond me.
“I know it’s hard right now, but you’re doing the right thing, giving her space.”
“What else can I do? She hates me.”
“No!” Angel’s voice was emphatic. “There’s no way she hates you. She needs you.”
“No, she don’t.”
“Don’t give up on her.”
“Don’t worry, sweetness. I’m sure she’ll be headin’ home soon, and then she’ll have you. She needs that more’n she’s ever needed me.”
“No. I don’t believe that. You two are meant to be.”
I stopped to stare at the Missing Person notices that littered my table. I’d gone to throw them out so many times now that she was safe, but I got lost in her smile each time. It was almost painful to look at in the circumstances. Every glance was a reminder of the way she’d shrunk away from my touch and refused to speak to me. “Maybe in a different life. In this one, she don’t want me anymore, because what happened was my fault.”
“She did not say that.” It sounded like Angel was in tears too. “I know she didn’t say that.”
I threw the sheet of paper back onto the table and stood to find more whiskey. “She didn’t have to say it, sweetness. It’s clear in her actions. She can’t even talk to me long enough to say good-bye.”
“She damn well better. If I find out she left the States without giving you some closure, I’ll kick her arse myself.”
It was exhaustin’ talkin’ about it. “I doubt you’d say that once you see her again. She’s suffered, Angel. More than we can ever guess at. She deserves to be treated extra special after that.”
“And that right there is exactly the reason I’ll kick her arse if she isn’t nice to you. You’re a great guy, Beau. Everything she deserves and more. Don’t give up on her.”
I sank to the chair, lost in Phoebe’s smile again. “I wish it was that easy, sweetness. I really do.”
TWO DAYS later, I got a text from Declan to let me know the flight details and when they’d be arrivin’ at the airport. It was more than I coulda expected, and I was thankful that it came. Without hesitation, I drove to the airport and waited for them to arrive.
When Phoebe came through the door, leanin’ against Declan’s side as she hobbled on her walkin’ cast, my breath caught in my throat. Her time in the hospital and her couple of days in her apartment with Declan had already caused an improvement in her. The color had returned to her cheeks, which were less sunken than before.
I stood a distance away, separated by a number of yards and who knew how many people. She didn’t want me there, but I couldn’t let her go without seein’ her off. Declan caught sight of me and nodded in greetin’. After I’d returned the gesture, he ducked down and whispered somethin’ in Phoebe’s ear.
She half turned in my direction.
For a moment, I thought she might finally acknowledge me—finally let me gaze upon her eyes at least one more time—but then she stopped and tugged him away in the opposite direction. He gave me another glance, a look filled with pity and apology, but then walked away. I couldn’t hate him for followin’ her wishes. Wasn’t that exactly the reason I was halfway across the terminal, watching her through the crowd, and not at her side drawin’ her into my arms like I wanted?
Declan turned his head and wrapped his arms securely around her as he led her away. He dragged one suitcase behind him, so I assumed everythin’ else musta been boxed up and shipped back to their home.
I watched them go until they disappeared into the crowd, and then I waited some more.
It was impossible to say exactly what I expected to happen, but part of me hoped she’d come chargin’ back out of the crowd and throw herself into my arms. The way it might happen in some sappy movie where the leadin’ couple realize at the last moment that they can’t be apart regardless of the circumstances.
But this wasn’t a movie. It was real life, and she was too broken to have anythin’ left to give.
Still, I stood, stoic and unmovin’.
It was only when more than half an hour had passed that I understood she had really left without lettin’ me say good-bye. They’d have gone through security by then. They’d be waitin’ on the plane that would take ’em to LA and from there back to Australia.
I dropped my head and wiped my eyes. The small patch of water on the floor near my boots warned I hadn’t been as stoic as I’d hoped. That traitorous tears had made it out without my notice while I’d been focused on the spot where Phoebe had disappeared.
“Beau!” I heard her calling my name, but knew it was a trick of the mind.
Hope was a dangerous thing.
I glanced up, and as I’d known it would be, the space in front of me was empty but for strangers. I heard her call my name again, the sound of laughter in her voice. I closed my eyes, and she was there with a smile on her face as we played in the sun out on my lake. Her hands gripped the old wooden boat with everythin’ in her. My name was squealed through her laughter every time either of us moved and sent the boat rockin’.
It was a reminder that the beautiful, smilin’ girl I’d known was gone.
Dead.
Buried in a storm cellar in North Carolina.
And the pieces of her that were left wanted nothin
’ to do with me.
And never would again.
With one last glance at the crowd, I turned and headed away. Back to my truck, loaded with the last of my stuff—ready to return to Georgia. To a life without the one person who’d shown me what love and family could really be.
But now, love was dead, and it had killed part of me in the process. It was like Phoebe herself once said, “Love can destroy you. I’ve seen it happen.”
And it had.
It’d destroyed us both.
Two lives buried in a storm cellar in North Carolina.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
STAY TUNED FOR MORE OF PHOEBE REEDE: THE UNTOLD STORY
PHYSIS
PHOEBE REEDE: THE UNTOLD STORY #4
2017
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Michelle Irwin has been many things in her life: a hobbit taking a precious item to a fiery mountain; a young child stepping through the back of a wardrobe into another land; the last human stranded not-quite-alone in space three million years in the future; a young girl willing to fight for the love of a vampire; and a time-travelling madman in a box. She achieved all of these feats and many more through her voracious reading habit. Eventually, so much reading had to have an effect and the cast of characters inside her mind took over and spilled out onto the page.
Michelle lives in sunny Queensland in the land down under with her surprisingly patient husband and ever-intriguing daughter, carving out precious moments of writing and reading time around her accounts-based day job. A lover of love and overcoming the odds, she primarily writes paranormal and fantasy romance.
Comments, questions, and suggestions for improvements are always welcome. You can reach me at writeonshell@outlook.com or through my website www.michelle-irwin.com. Thanks in advance for your correspondence.
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