Transcending Nirvana (Dark Evoke #3)

by V. L. Brock

  “Then there was Walker. He was…” Standing immobile, shaking my head, I lifted my gaze up to the night sky with that firm ball between my hands, trying to find the word––any word––to describe him. I exhaled, “He was caring, he was damaged, and strong but he always there. Everything that we had done before the accident, he repeated, Daddy. Taking me places I couldn’t remember, playing songs, saying things…he practically relived the entire time I’d known him, to trigger my memory.”

  “He sounds special, chickpea.”

  I smiled. “It was because of him that I left Liam.” Imagining Liam’s head in my hands, I tossed the ball a little harsher than required. It bounced from the wooden panel once again, causing the metal pole to vibrate considerably. That time, I didn’t retrieve it. I just stood in the driveway, mimicking my dad with my hands in my pockets, focusing on the ground while the ball rolled.

  “So is there nothing between you and this Walker boy?”

  “There was. He made me strong, he understood me. But he did things I didn’t agree with––”

  “Did he murder anybody?”

  I grimaced. “What? No, of course not.” I hope not anyway.

  “Well then, forget what he did for a moment,”––he closed the distance between us with sluggish strides––“Why did he do those things, Kady?”

  “To get me to see what Liam was really like. To get me away from him,” I whispered. Finally, my voice faded into the material of Dad’s robe as he cuddled me closely, silencing my small sobs.

  “I’m your dad, chickpea. Nobody will ever be good enough for you in my eyes. I don’t know the full story, I’m not going to force you to let me in, but I’ll tell you one thing,”––I pulled away from his chest and gazed up into softening blue eyes framed by wrinkled skin––“for a man to repeat special moments to help regain a person’s memory…” he shook his head, grinning wistfully, “you don’t just do that for anybody.”

  Suppressing the yawn I felt working its way through my jaw was impossible, so I surrendered to the stretching of muscle and joint. “Come, on let’s get you to bed, chickpea. It’ll take time, but things might seem better in the morning.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Walker

  There was no doubt about it. I was in Hell, and not the kind where you know things will look up and get better with time. I mean literal Hell. Fire, brimstone, the part where your soul is screaming in torment inside your body…the whole fucking works.

  Five days it had been. Five days without seeing her smile, breathing in her scent. Five days of attempting to call her, only to have the that damn machine-driven voice at the other end of the speaker tell me that the handset was turned off and to leave a damn message.

  I debated sending her a text––many texts in fact––but each time I pressed her name and selected that speech bubble, my fingers didn’t know what to type. A blessing in disguise I guess, considering the rational part of my fogged up, grieving head would then remind me that I was doing this for a reason.

  Although it had been quiet on the DeLaney front, I didn’t and wouldn’t risk placing Kady in harm’s way, not when everything was out in the open. When control is taken away from a man who needs control like he needs air to breathe, there’s always the risk of the situation worsening. This I knew.

  With the possibility of some easy cash coming up, I should’ve at least been going to the gym every day like Uncle Les told me. But I didn’t. No––During those five nightmarish days, I refused to leave the apartment, and instead of taking all my frustrations out on punching bags and sparring partners, I let it all out on the cracked plaster of the apartment wall. With how swollen my knuckles were, it was damned near impossible to clench my hands tight enough to form a firm fist any more. Crimson splatters from the blood which poured from my knuckles and through my fingers, staining areas of the wooden floor.

  I hated my life. I hated Liam. I hated having to push the one woman away who promised me she’d never leave. I hated the situation.

  My phone had been blowing up all day with calls and texts. I didn’t care. Everyone in the world could take a long walk off a short fuckin’ pier. If it wasn’t Kady, I wasn’t interested.

  Barefoot I stumbled through the chaos of empty bottles of Bud decorating the apartment, and made my escape down the hall to the bedroom. Again, for the fiftieth time in those lost days, my eyes watered as Nickelback blasted through my speakers. Memories, so vivid it was as though I was reliving them again, were brought to the forefront of my mind. The many times we got lost to the passion which was us, and the tender times we looked into each other’s eyes as we made love…

  Narrow nose, her perfect smile, and the way she hooked her hair behind her ear…it was like she was standing in front of me right then. And then I watched that moment where everything changed, unable to take it back or stop it.

  ‘The time apart is like knives in my heart’ was emitted through the speaker as, in my mind, I studied and relived that moment at the foot of the bed of her packing her things, and I could feel them, right there stabbing through that muscle which beats for her, twisting deeply and painfully.

  Only when you feel that bittersweet pain that you wish you could erase with one simple pill, can you understand what true love feels like. I wish I could take that pill. Fuck, I’d take them all and wish this life, along with the pain, would end.

  ‘Trying not to love you is tearing me apart’, drawled from the system, and finally had me surrendering to five days of heartbreak. I couldn’t take anymore. Seeing red, I screamed at the top of my lungs until my throat was itching, which was followed by a swift punch of my bedroom door. Jab after jab, all my weight was thrown into each connection, until it no longer stood steady on its hinges.

  Shaking and struggling through my vision, the bedside drawer was yanked open, and the silver charm bracelet I gave her with the tiny bear dangling from the chain, hung between my fingers. When I clutched those links in my hand, pain, anger, regret and loss fell heavily from my eyes, before I turned my attention back to the bedside unit, picking it up and tossing it across the room, screaming as I did so.

  Amongst the chaos of the bedroom and nothing left to smash up in my rage, Nickelback slowly silenced my weeping as I reached under the iron bed, pulling free my safety box. Taking the blade out of the case, I held the bracelet in my left hand, while the razor-sharp edge was dug into the flesh of my wrist. I wanted to end it. This wasn’t a way to numb an emotion I didn’t want to experience. This was a way to end it all, and in that moment, convinced my actions would result in what I desperately needed, I silently apologized to Kady for letting her down. I swiped the blade downward, calling out in pain and discomfort before repeating an inch higher. My tears ceased as the flesh separated and I concentrated on the crimson warmth oozing from the incisions, and down my palm.

  “WALKER?! What the fuck…NO….!” I heard her voice as she clambered over the detached door which lay in the hallway. Joining me on the floor, she snatched the blade from my right hand, the charm bracelet falling from my left palm. “What have you done?”

  “I can’t take it, Laurie. I thought I could, but I can’t…I just can’t…”

  Weaving her fingers through my hair, I was pulled into her side. In my time of need, the soft sounds of her shushing me ended my tears, and my breathing eventually evened out. It wasn’t where I preferred to be in my moment of desperation, but it was still a place that I felt safe. My escape. My saving grace. My own emotional numbness.

  “You’re lucky,” she whispered over the song spewing from the speaker.

  “How?”

  Lifting my arm, she examined my wrist and sighed. “We’re still going to need to dress that, but if that was deeper, you’d be in the hospital having stitches, and we know how much of a baby you are when it comes to stitches.”

  The last of my energy was used on a small snicker.

  “You need to remember what you told me, Walker: don’t focus on what you�
�re losing; focus on what you’re protecting. It’s not as thou––” interrupted by my phone chiming, she muttered, “Hold on, I’ll grab it,” and digging into my back pocket, she pressed the button and lifting it to her ear. “Hello? Yes, he’s here, but he’s in the restroom…Okay, no worries. I’ll let him know. Who…? Okay, bye.”

  My head lifted on her chest as she took a deep breath, then sighed. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “Who’s on the phone?”

  “Les…we need to get you cleaned up and down at Brannon’s before 9:00 p.m. You can take your anger out on Soaper––”

  My eyes widened as I pulled my head back. “Soaper? As in, Richie Soaper?”

  “The one and only,” she smiled.

  I was in the gym changing rooms with Les between my thighs. He massaged my knuckles and I winced causing him to lift his grimacing face and pin me with unhappy eyes. He shook his head before examining the slowly sullied bandage around my left wrist. “What in Jesus’ name happened to ya?”

  “Don’t give me a lecture, Les, please. I can’t deal with it right now.”

  “I shouldn’t be letting you fight with knuckles in this state, what the fuck were yo––”

  “Les, this isn’t exactly legal, so you got a choice: you bandage me up or Laurie will. I need this, and I’m not talking about the money either…”

  He gaped at me with a steady look of disapproval, before shaking his head again. “Your Ma would kill me for this…”

  “Well, looks like we’re both in Hell then.”

  After my knuckles had been wrapped, I jumped down from the leather unit and tossed a few jabs and hooks to stretch and warm my muscles.

  “You know its Richie, right?”

  “Yep, fuckin’ smack-head,” I grinned. “I’m going to enjoy every fucking second of this…”

  Down the small hallway I ducked and weaved, shadow boxing in the dim light when I reached the ring. Men in nothing less than Armani suits, flashing hundred dollar bills, parted like the Red Sea as I grew nearer. Each guy wagering on me patted me on the back, telling me to kick some arse. When I weaved through the ropes and came face to face with Richie, it took every ounce not to jump on him and slam his face in the canvas before the bell.

  “So, Soaper, you took my advice, I see,” I spat out. When he turned to face me, his face dropped; just like his body had a few weeks ago outside the liquor store where he attempted to mug Kady. His eyes grew wide. “Finally picking someone your own size?”

  “You’re, you’re…” he stammered.

  I rolled my shoulders and stretched my neck to each side. “’Aye, nice to see you remember. I’m not guna go easy on you though. You attacked my girl after all. You’re in for a shock.”

  “Walker, what are you doing,” Laurie hissed from my corner beyond the ropes.

  Doing a rotation in the middle, my arms outspread, I addressed the wealthy men surrounding the ring, “Gentlemen, I must apologize for the blood bath that will be tonight’s bout…” as I voiced my last word, my fist connected hard and fast with the man’s nose, sending him staggering backwards and the cheering along with demands for the next blow, were practically shouted from the onlookers.

  “I’m sorry, I had no idea she was your––” he muttered, his hands held up in his defense.

  Taking two strides towards him where his body rested against the ropes, my shoulder pulled back and I was soon jabbing him in the face before hitting him with a body shot to the ribs. “I don’t fuckin’ care what you thought you worthless junkie…” I hissed. “You’re in a boxing ring. Whether I kill you or not, I’ll be walking out of here so I suggest ya defend yourself.” I sneered.

  Finally, he held his guard up, throwing punch after punch and missing each time. It takes twice as much energy to hit and miss, and this fucker was wearing himself out pretty damn quickly.

  “Go on, Walker, uppercut…fucking uppercut…” one man screamed from behind me.

  I let the junkie get a few hits in, nothing much, just for show––had to keep it entertaining after all. I spat the blood from my mouth onto the canvas after his sneaky jab. That man in front of me scared Kady, he pulled a knife out on her…I felt my eyes darken at that memory alone. In my mind, I replayed that very night over and over with each attack I made, and each growl and hiss which left my mouth on impact.

  In the corner of the ropes, his face was a blood bag, and he exploded all over my gray Lonsdale tank top and sweatpants, before crumbling to the floor in a bloodied heap.

  Les ducked between the ropes and gave me a swift hug, patting me on the back while everyone on my side of the ring cheered. “I have no idea what the fuck that was…but my boy, you got it…you got it good…” he spoke into my ear, stuffing a wad of cash in my hand.

  Nodding, I left the old man standing on the shamrock print of the canvas, and weaved my way through the onlookers as they patted me on the shoulder with renditions of ‘great fight, man’, to head out the back, still covered in blood.

  “Wait,” Laurie called as I approached the truck in the heaving parking lot. “Where are you going?”

  I turned around to face her. My knuckles still wrapped up and bloodied, along with the rest of me. “I’m going to do something I should’ve done days ago…” Anger softened by hope, I grinned when she shrugged, incredulous. “That in there was a reminder––”

  “Reminder?” she drew the word out with widened eyes when I yanked the driver door open.

  “That I can protect her. I shouldn’t have let her go––I shouldn’t have doubted myself. I’m going to do what I should’ve done. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to bring Kady home.” Seeing Laurie slipping into the passenger side, I paused. “What are you doin’?”

  “It’s an eight hour drive to D.C. We have no idea where exactly her parents are, we have more of a chance if it’s the both of us. It can be like a road trip. And I want to see my badass Irish cousin win his girl back. It’ll be a lovely story to tell my nieces and nephews one day.”

  I frowned. “Nieces and neph––”

  “What? You’re going to deprive your kids of an honorary auntie?”

  I scowled.

  “I didn’t think so, now get in and let’s get your woman back,” she fixed the seatbelt into place.

  Starting the ignition, I rolled my eyes. “That’s if she takes me back.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kady

  After an eventful week of shopping, talking, countless tears and nightmares, along with the never-ending battle of acceptance, Dad sent his three best women to get pampered. Considering he owned Jenson’s Golf Resort and Spa, nothing was ever too much. We could stay for an entire day, having each and every treatment they offered if we wanted and no one would bat an eyelid.

  Personally, I didn’t want any of it. I would’ve been happy staying in my room, crying into my comforter as I looked up at the mirror-less ceiling, wondering what Walker was doing right at that precise moment in time. That was how I spent the majority of both my days and nights since being back in my childhood home.

  Alas, with it being the day I was to meet Brittany’s boyfriend, I conceded to a little indulgence. Seeing her loved up while I continued mourning my heartbreak was something I wasn’t relishing, and so a few treatments couldn’t have made me feel any worse, right?

  Facials, manicures and pedicures, seaweed wraps, hair, make-up, and eight minutes in the tanning bed for Mom, we had it all. And for the first time in six days, as the masseuse dug her fingertips into my knotted muscles, I felt all the tension leave my body.

  Forgoing yet another Brittany Jenson hair-coloring mishap, she had her hair colored professionally by the best stylist at the spa. She looked radiant with her lengthy, chocolate extensions, cascading halfway down her back. Her nails polished the same shade.

  “What do you think, sis? Do you think Clark will like it?” she asked through the glowing beam on her oval face. I repaid her with a wistful smile and he
r eyes saddened instantly. She was right all those weeks ago when she told me that things had changed, not only for me, but her, too––a serious relationship was something I’d never anticipated.

  The information I was told about the man who had stolen my baby sister’s heart, was sparse. His name was Clark Garrett. He was a gorgeous, twenty-five year old trust-fund baby who she had met at the retirement home, while reading to his Grandfather. They clicked and everything else was history.

  “I’m so sorry, Kady, that was really insensit––”

  “No,” I shook my head, rolling my eyes. “Honestly, its fine. I think he’ll like it,” studying my fingers as I toyed with the tips of the fake hair, I continued, “You do realize I have to give the big sister speech to him tonight though, right?” I smiled.

  “I should’ve done that for you,” her voice was small, melancholic and brimming with remorse. It physically hurt to see and hear her that sorrowful.

  “I’m the big sister. It doesn’t work the other way around––” before I could tell her to stop kicking herself metaphorically, her cellphone began singing from her back pocket.

  “That’s probably Clark now.” She fished the handset from the compartment before frowning at the screen and sliding her thumb across it. “Hello…?” she greeted cautiously. A form of recognition lit up her face before she held up a finger, and turned on her heel to have the conversation in private.

  It was very unlike Brittany to take a call in secret, so when she returned, I probed, “What was that about?”

  “Oh nothing, just work asking if I could go in tomorrow.” Although her voice was full of resolve, her body language screamed something more, and disloyalty was one more thing I couldn’t deal with.