Coherent
Poem
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Sneak Peek
Dear Reader
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Connect with Livia
COHERENT
Copyright © 2014 by Livia Jamerlan
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-9906809-4-9
No part of this book may reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Line and Copy Editor: Brenda Letendre
Content Editor: Jennifer Roberts-Hall, Indie After Hours
Interior Design: Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable
Cover Design: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative Covers
ad·dic·tion
(əˈdikSHən)
noun
the fact or condition of being addicted to a particular substance, thing, or activity.
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you NOT to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us, it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” — Marianne Williamson
To my Made Family. Thank you for standing by my side through the darkness.
The pain was more than I could bear. My head throbbed, my skin burned, and as much as I tugged, jerking my hands towards my body, I couldn’t escape. I was trapped in the unknown. I didn’t know if I was living or dying. My arms were bound—restrained above my head. I yearned to move.
To feel.
I peered around, but the dark room made it hard to see. My head felt heavy as I turned it towards my arm and stared at what seemed like a hospital rubber band tied around my upper arm and blocking my blood from flowing. I tried to move my hand but to no avail; my fingers were numb and I was unable to close my fists. My vision was blurry as I attempted to focus on a syringe, which prodded then poked my arm. A cloudy liquid passed through the syringe, entering my bloodstream, and the world dimmed.
My arm became numb and my whole body felt as if it was part of the makeshift mattress I lay on. My eyelids grew heavy then closed…
The darkness took over.
My lips were chapped and bleeding, and I was parched from the cloth shoved in my mouth. Feeling feeble, I waited for another dose of obscurity, my body again leaden as I was sucked into a black hole.
The unknown that I was beginning to enjoy.
The balmy lips on my body awakened me from the emotionless state I was accustomed too. A mask covered his face so I couldn’t see him, couldn’t identify him. He forced my legs apart; I felt the cold dripping of jelly fall on my core, providing for my lack of arousal before he tore through me, causing a blinding pain. His calloused hands covered my body while his facial hair pricked my skin. Hauling my arms towards me was pointless, it caused me to lose the last bit of strength I had left. His hand held the gag in place so I wouldn’t scream. Couldn’t make a sound. Left there lifeless for him to take.
He inserted the needle in my arm again, calming my body as it struggled to break free from him. The warmth of my tears slid down my cheek before my heavy eyelids closed, the gloom returning.
The world dissolved from my eyes. I fought the weight of my own body and focused on the light that hung above me, knowing it was a matter of seconds before the darkened unknown cloud came and found me. I watched the light flicker as I waited for the world to go dark. Deadened from the pain, I feared I’d never see the light.
I feared I’d never see the golden sun that was Peyton’s eyes.
Braelynn
My arms throbbed, and I shivered from the cold. I tucked them between my legs as I anticipated the end. Helpless, alone, unable to move, frozen … this had to be it. The numb feeling I had felt for the past few hours was gone, but I missed it. I craved the unknown. The darkness that cleared my thoughts.
I needed it to help stop the aching pain I felt everywhere else. The pain that could be described as my muscles, my organs, my cells, my entire body shutting down one at a time until I was no longer in existence.
The end.
“Braelynn?”
I heard the voice I couldn’t tell if it was real. But it was what I’d held onto for the past hours, what kept me fighting against the dark hole.
His sudden movements rocked my body and made my stomach turn. What was happening to me? Attempting to open my eyes, I tried to yell for help. I struggled to call out for Peyton once more.
“Please, no. Don’t touch me. Please don’t rape me. Peyton, please! Help me…”
Unable to hear myself, I finally gave in to the unknown, letting it take me. The world around me went black. In a state that flirted between unconsciousness and death, my ribs contracted as I regurgitated the bile in my stomach. I felt my body move, even as the world around me was dark.
Oblivion.
Voices shouted over one another. Lights flashed in my eyes, but I was frozen, my body too heavy to move. The shouting continued, but I could no longer fight the white cloud that took control of my body. With my last thought, I focused on how much I loved Peyton, regretting that I never told him. I let go, submitting to the black hole.
Beep…
She’s seizing!”
Beep…
Beep…
I knew this was it. The final step in my life—darkness, unknown, numbness, followed by excruciating pain.
Beep…
Beep…
The agony had taken over my body, and I prayed for death to come and take me right then and there.
Why was I no longer numb? I wanted so badly to turn back time and return to the darkness.
My head throbbed and I strained to open my eyes. I wanted … needed to see if I was in heaven or hell, but my vision was sensitive to the glaring bright light in the room. If I could smell the sterile scent of a hospital, I wasn’t dead. I could move my fingers and toes, but my body was no longer numb. Every muscle, joint, and pore ached, pulsing in agony. My toes burrowed under a
thick blanket as I moved them around.
I was awake, no longer in limbo, but the pain consumed me. I could hear voices in the distant, but the beeping was close to me. A warm hand wrapped around mine and I moved my finger, needing to touch something or someone so I could assure myself that this wasn’t a dream.
A nightmare.
My skin ignited when I brushed against him, but my body didn’t welcome the feeling. It dreaded it; it craved something else. I needed the obscurity, the cold. The warm touch I couldn’t tolerate. I needed to find the emptiness I had become accustomed to. It helped with the pain I felt all over. This touch, this hand wrapped around mine, made my heart beat faster; made the pain intolerable.
“Braelynn?”
The voice was familiar, the same voice I found myself dreaming about. Peyton.
It was him.
My heart skipped a beat. I needed to see him, to look deep into his eyes. He would reassure me that everything would be fine. Peyton would fix this; he would take my pain away, the unfamiliar emptiness that had filled my heart. I needed him to make me forget what was in my head, tell me it was a bad dream, even though deep down I knew I was forever broken. I wanted to see him.
“Hey, can you hear me?”
Craving him, I withstood the pain of the glaring light and looked right at him. I was crushed with more pain, more pain than I’d felt before. The pain of a broken heart. The pain of a broken soul.
But why was it broken?
“Hi.” My voice was barely audible.
His smile filled my heart, but he didn’t look like himself. He was unshaven with dark circles under his eyes. His bright hazel eyes were gloomy, almost brown as he continued to look at me. He was dressed in green hospital scrubs and I realized that I was lying in a hospital bed, but I couldn’t remember how I got there. I couldn’t remember much of anything.
The last thing I remembered was … pain.
Tremendous pain. The streetlight above, blood on my hands. Nothing else. Nothing.
“Where am I?”
Someone had taken me.
“What happened to me?”
Someone had hit me over the head.
“Who did it?”
I turned my head to look around and watched as Kennedy and Gus rose from the recliner in the corner of the room and walked towards me. Kennedy’s eyes were red and puffy. Gus paced near the end of my bed before he reached down and grabbed my feet. I looked at each one of them for an answer, some reassurance that I was okay, but the three people I trusted most gazed back at me. No one spoke.
I panicked.
The monitor beeping rapidly matched my increased heart rate and shortness of breath.
“Brae, honey, you’re okay, just breathe.”
Kennedy took my other hand from where it sat on the blanket. She had been my best friend since freshman year of college. She and I shared everything, and I knew her like the back of my hand—she couldn’t lie to save her life.
“Did you get him?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Who?” Peyton gripped my hand tighter.
“The guy. The guy who took me.”
“Who took you, baby girl?” Gus reached over the end of the bed, holding my feet. Gus had been my best friend since we were in college. He had saved me from the most traumatic night of my life. I loved him like an older brother. How did he not know who took me.
I tried to remember. Remember his face, remember who had hit me, but I couldn’t. I drew a blank.
“I … I … I don’t know.” The tears fell as I closed my eyes, and a soft sob escaped my throat. I couldn’t remember what his face looked like.
“What did he do to you? Do you know that?” Gus asked again, his voice soft, trying not to frighten me.
But I was already petrified.
I peeled my eyes open, looking at the people standing around me. “I don’t know what he did. I can’t remember anything. He … he took me.”
The look in their eyes rocked me.
Shattered me.
I knew then I was never going to be okay again.
I looked at Peyton for guidance, but he bowed his head. Peyton and Kennedy held my hands tighter, but I saw the doubt, the anger in Peyton’s eyes. Did he think I was lying?
“Braelynn, sweetie, I need you to listen to me, okay?” Kennedy brushed my hair behind my ear and I nodded, endless tears falling from my cheek and onto the hospital gown. “Peyton found you unconscious on our steps. They’ve run a few tests on you, and now that you’re awake I’m going to get your doctor.” She spoke softly, in a calm monotone, using her trained doctor voice to try and keep her patient composed. “Everything is okay sweetie. Don’t you worry.”
To keep me composed.
Gus followed her out of the room, his hands entwined in his curly hair. “Fuck!” I heard him growl from the hallway. Confused, I looked at Peyton. His head hung low, avoiding my eyes.
I squeezed his hand. I needed him like I needed my next breath. When he looked at me, his eyes were darker and trying to mask his pain, but failing miserably. He sat on the bed next to me, kissing the tip of my nose before wiping my tears away with a sad smile on his face.
“You believe me, don’t you?” I wasn’t lying.
“Braelynn, can we wait until the doctor comes in? It’s been a crazy couple of hours, and I’m glad you’re okay.”
Sobbing, I turned my thumping head back on the hard pillow, replaying what I remembered. “I was going to call you before everything went black,” I admitted. “I was on my way home, but I wanted to speak to you.”
“Shh. It’s okay. You’re okay. I promise. It’s been a long week since you disappeared, Braelynn, I’m happy you’re alive.”
Week?
“A week?” I yanked away from his touch, ignoring the pain I felt as I lifted my upper body off the bed to look at him. My eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean, week?” I asked, using my elbows to hold me up. I wasn’t gone a week. It was hours. I was gone for hours.
The stupid machine began to beep again, and I attempted to rip the cord from underneath my gown.
“Braelynn, let’s wait until the doctor comes in.” His voice was low as he tried to calm me.
“A whole fucking week!” I screeched. “What happen with the case? With Mackenzie? Did she meet with Howard? What happened during pre-trial?”
Mackenzie Adams held the proof that would help win Natasha Venturini’s civil lawsuit against Drew Seymour’s. That scum rat had previously raped four different women. All four had filed rape charges then dropped them, but Mackenzie was the only one who hadn’t signed a non-disclosure agreement. She was scheduled to meet with Howard Goldstein—Venturini’s attorney and my professor—to hand over the check Drew had forged so we could open a criminal case against him.
I sat on the bed my head pounding with each breath I took. I looked around for a change of clothes. I needed to go see Howard and call Mackenzie. I tried to move my legs off the bed, but I was too weak. My head ached, the room spun, and my vision went blurry.
“Braelynn, you’ve been through enough.” He rose from the stool that sat next to my bed, urging me to stay in bed.
“No!” I palmed my forehead where my headache screamed, making it hard to see straight. “I need to go see Howard and talk to Mackenzie, find out what happened.”
I tried to get out of bed again, fighting the pain and weakness. He pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me as I began to shake and tears escaped my eyes. Nothing was what it seemed. My mind ran a marathon as I tried to remember something, anything.
“Look at me.” His hands framed my face. “Lie back. Once we talk to the doctor, I’ll make sure to take you where you want to go.” His thumbs swiped my painful tears away as his lips brushed mine. The electrical charge that brought me to the brink of pure bliss was so faint I could barely feel it. With Peyton’s assistance, I rested my head back into bed. He climbed into bed with me, holding my hand as I cried uncontrollably.
“Ms.
Wolf? I’m Dr. Pearson.”
He was here to deliver more bad news. I felt it deep in my gut. Everyone was hiding something from me. Kennedy and Gus followed the short, older gentleman.
“I’d like to talk to you in private.” He looked around the room, politely asking everyone to leave.
“No.” I reached for Peyton’s hand when he began to move at the doctor’s request. “You can tell me in front of them.”
“Are you sure, Ms. Wolf?” he questioned, his eyebrows raised.
How bad could it be? I had temporary amnesia from being hit on the head. I was gone for a week, and Kennedy, Gus, and Peyton were all withholding information from me. What could be worse?
“Braelynn, please. And yes, it’s okay.” I needed the support from each of them.
“Braelynn, you have a severe concussion from a blow you took to the back of your head and you have a rather large fracture on your occipital bone. Because of that, you’ll find yourself sensitive to light, and your head may throb. You have to be careful not to hit that area again. Even a minor bump to the area can cause internal brain damage and potentially a brain bleed.”
Everyone stood quietly, listening to what Dr. Pearson was saying. I reached behind my head, feeling the welt he’d referred to. It was tender to the touch.
“The wound is a couple of days old so we weren’t able to stitch it up. It is crucial that you move slowly as you don’t want any sudden blackouts that will make you hit your head again. Also, you may feel dizzy, sluggish, and sensitive to noise for a couple of days, or even weeks. We have you on a low dose Oxycodone at the moment; hence, you may not realize the severity of the pain. Unfortunately, once you’re released I won’t be able to provide you with a prescription.”
“Why not?” Kennedy asked harshly.
Dr. Pearson’s eyes widened and his eyebrows lifted. He turned to Kennedy with a close-lipped smile before returning his gaze to me and exhaling softly. “Braelynn, when you were brought in, you had symptoms of an overdose. Along with being hypothermic, your body was convulsing, your jaw was clenched and you were grinding your teeth. You had a seizure as we were examining you, and we’re still running tests to discover the cause, but based on your lab results, you were under the influence of heroin and MDMA, known on the streets as ecstasy.”
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