“You’re going to pay for this, Emily!” His fingers dig into my flesh as he starts pulling me back into the room. I grip the jagged edge of the frame, ignoring the pain as my fingers curl around broken glass, holding on for dear life as I kick out at him. His mouth curls up in a sneer that sends chills ricocheting all over my body. He leans toward me, and I press my feet together and push with as much strength as I can muster. He stumbles back, losing his hold and his balance, toppling over the desk with a guttural roar. All the hairs on my body lift in utter terror. I scramble out the window, barely feeling the aches and pains, adrenaline fueling my body as I crash land in the diner. My head whacks off the solid floor, and black spots blur my vision. I struggle to my feet, clutching my head in my hand. A sticky substance coats my fingers, and I sway as I inspect my hands. Blood splatters my skin and the nauseated feeling returns. Limping, I stagger toward the front door, whimpering in fright.
I’ve just passed the counter when I’m slammed into from behind. My terrified screams fill the air as the ground looms before me. A heavy weight pins my body down as I extend my hands in front of me. I crash to the floor, my head landing on my hands as pain explodes in my skull. A metallic taste fills my mouth and my vision blurs. I’m vaguely aware of being turned around.
David sits astride me and his meaty hands lock around my neck. “I don’t want to do this, Emily, but I’ve got to save you from yourself.” His hands tighten around my neck, constricting my airflow. I claw at his arms, eyes widening in alarm.
“Daddy loves you, baby girl.” Wetness hits my face. “It will all be over soon.”
My legs start thrashing about and I try to buck him off, but he’s way too heavy. My arms fall slack to my side, and a blanket of darkness creeps slowly into my consciousness.
“Goodbye sweet baby girl.” David’s anguished voice is the last thing I hear before I black out.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I emit a sharp gasp as I come to. The pressure on my chest has lifted and I suck in greedy lungsful of air. Twisting on my side, I vomit all over the floor. My eyes flicker open and shut, and fleeting images coast in front of me. Warm hands cup my face. “You’re okay, Faye. You’re going to be okay. Help is on its way.”
I open my mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a hoarse, croaky sound.
“Don’t try to talk. He’s gone. You’re safe. The ambulance will be here any minute.” The husky male voice is soothing. A damp cloth moves across my mouth, and my eyes blink open. The man has dark hair and glossy blue eyes, and he looks familiar. I shiver, and my lip wobbles. Tears leak out of my eyes. “Don’t cry, honey. You’re going to be okay.” He rests his forehead against mine. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
My eyes drift open and shut again. Muffled sounds of multiple voices and footsteps reach my ears. I’m lifted up, and I scream as fiery, hot pain whips across my stomach. The same warm hands cover my cold fingers as my body is placed on a firm surface. A heavy blanket is placed over me, but I can’t stop shivering. My head falls to the side, and my eyes open briefly. Flashing lights almost blind me, and my eyes fall shut again.
When I wake up the next time, my body is lulled by a gentle swaying motion and the persistent beep, beep of a machine. Warm hands grip mine, and I fall back asleep.
I don’t know how long I’m out of it for, but when I wake again, it’s to the sound of voices instantly muting. I stare at the stark white ceiling, and the glare from the bright light has me wincing. “Call the nurse,” James says, and I turn toward the sound of his voice.
His concerned face appears in my peripheral vision. “Sweetheart, how are you feeling?”
I move slightly in the hospital bed, instantly conscious of the tightness around my midriff. I wiggle my hands and my toes, relieved to find both in apparent working order. My tongue darts out, moistening my dry lips. “Okay,” I croak, recoiling at the sound of my raspy voice. “I think,” I add in a whisper.
Ky nudges his father out of the way. His panic-stricken expression brings it all to the forefront of my mind, and I replay the scene in horrific detail. “David!” I croak, shaking and shivering as fear takes a fresh hold of me. Tears roll down my cheeks as my eyes dart around the room in alarm.
Ky grips my hand. “Ssh, baby. It’s okay. The cops caught up to him. He’s in jail. He can’t hurt you anymore.” His voice cracks on the last sentence, and my panic attack subsides.
Everything comes back to me, and I look up at Ky with new tears. “I phoned you.”
He hunches over the bed, pulling my hand between both of his. “I know you did. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I frown, puzzled. Why is he apologizing? He obviously called someone to come rescue me. “I don’t understand.”
He cringes at my scratchy voice. “I should’ve answered your call. I’m so sorry, Faye. For as long as I live, I’ll never forgive myself for this.”
James lands a hand on his shoulder. “Son, she’s okay.”
“That’s not the point!” Ky yells, standing up and glowering at his dad. I flinch from the self-loathing in his tone. “She needed me and I wasn’t there for her! She could’ve died!”
James tentatively pulls Ky into a brief, awkward embrace.
“It’s okay,” I rush to reassure him.
Ky lifts his head, and the look of self-loathing and vulnerability on his face almost kills me. Dragging a chair over, he sits down beside me. “No, it’s not. Not by a long shot, but I’m going to make it up to you. She is not going to keep me from you again.”
“What?”
A tormented expression contorts his beautiful face. “I was with Addison when you phoned. She saw it was you and made me ignore it. The first chance I got, I snuck out to the restroom to call you back, and that’s when I listened to your message. I called Dad, but he had already been notified, so I came here as quick as I could.”
A new pain blends with the existing one. He was with her. I nearly died tonight, and he was with her. I had one opportunity to reach out for help, and he was the one I reached out to. There was no hesitation, no question. I didn’t call James or Brad or the cops. I called the other half of my heart, and he let me down.
He didn’t answer my call because she told him not to.
I could’ve died because he was pandering to her needs. Because he put her first. Again.
Something inherent breaks irreparably inside me.
“Faye, baby. Say something.” Ky is watching me with panicked eyes.
Tears stream down my face as I wrench my hand from his. “Get out.”
“No! Please. I’m sorry. Don’t push me away. I can’t bear it.”
The beeping on the machine accelerates as pain jackknifes my heart until it’s a twisted, rotten, corrupted organ in my chest.
My eyes find James’s. “I want him to leave.” My sobs bounce off the walls. “Make him leave, please.”
“Kyler.” James tone is compassionate.
“No!” Ky’s voice is laced with pain.
A nurse comes bounding into the room, quickly followed by a man with wavy gray hair wearing an eye-dazzling white lab coat. “Ms. Donovan is in distress. We need everyone to wait out in the corridor,” he commands.
“We’ll be right outside, Faye,” James reassures me, forcing Kyler out the door.
Ky twists around before the door closes, mouthing “I love you. I’m sorry.”
I turn away from his anguished face, closing my eyes and praying for darkness to claim me again.
James and Alex are seated by my bed the next time I wake up. “Sweetheart, we were so worried.” Alex leans over and kisses my cheek. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
James reaches over with a cup. “The nurse said you were to drink this.” I open my mouth, and he slips the straw in my mouth. The water is cool as it slides down my dry throat.
> “What happened?” I croak, my vocal cords still clearly strained. “Who saved me?” That part of my ordeal is so vague.
Alex and James exchange a guarded look. “It’s no one you know. A man, a visitor to Wellesley, was out for a late walk, and he saw you being attacked.” James’s voice quivers. “He fought David until he fled. Then he called an ambulance and waited with you.”
“Mark,” I whisper, as his face drifts in front of my eyes. “It was Mark.”
James and Alex share a startled look. “You know that man, sweetheart?” she asks.
“He came in the diner a couple times,” I explain. “I think he’s a reporter. I caught him taking photos of me once.” None of that matters now. Not when he saved me. James looks like he’s just sucked on an entire jar of chilies. “Can I see him? Is he okay?”
Alex pats my hand. “He has a few bruises and a swollen jaw but he’s fine. You don’t need to worry about him.”
“I need to thank him.” I try to hoist myself up in the bed, crying out at the dart of pain stretching across my midriff.
“Don’t sit up, honey. You’ve got a lot of stitches in your stomach, and you don’t want to tear them.” James presses a kiss to my forehead. “And don’t worry about … Mark. We’ve already thanked him.”
“Your cousins are outside,” Alex interjects, “and they’re very anxious to see you. Brad and Rose too. Are you up for visitors?”
“Sure.” A sharp pain pierces my chest cavity, like a dagger straight through my heart. “But not Ky. I don’t want to see him.”
Alex pats my hand in understanding. Then she gets up and leaves the room.
James leans forward. “I know you’re upset with him, Faye, but he feels awful. He’s told me what Addison is doing, and I wish he’d come to me about this sooner.” He frowns a little. “I know you need some time to deal with it, but don’t shut him out. He loves you, and he needs to make it up to you.”
“Are you saying this for him or for you?”
The door opens as James bends over, whispering in my ear. “I’m saying it for you.”
After three days, I’m discharged from the hospital on condition that I recuperate at home. I’m not allowed to do any kind of physical activity, at least until the stitches are removed in ten days.
My cousins fuss over me like you wouldn’t believe. Brad drops in briefly every day after school to update me on the latest, but he doesn’t hang about. Kal and Keaton barely leave my side, but all of my cousins take time every day to check in with me, either in person or over the phone, which is super sweet, and it helps me deal with the aftermath of my ordeal more than they realize.
Once the medication is reduced, and I’m more coherent, the reality of what almost happened hits me full force. I’m plagued with horrific nightmares as the terror and fear return in the middle of the night to torture me. I wake up screaming, drenched in sweat, most nights.
The police are still trying to piece together exactly what happened and why David snapped like he did. James has Dan staying close to the investigative team, but every time I ask, I’m told there’s no news yet. I’ve a strong suspicion that he knows more than he’s letting on, but I can’t fault him for trying to shield me from the truth for a little while longer.
Ky turns up every day begging me to talk to him, but I turn him away. It still hurts too much. One part of me knows I’m being unfair, because I’d agreed he should prolong the farce with Addison for Kal’s sake, but the more vulnerable part of my brain latches onto the rejection and the hurt and refuses to let go.
It’s just under a week before Kal’s trial, and I wake up in the early hours of the morning screaming and crying and gasping for air. This nightmare was the worst one yet. I hold my neck, running my thumbs up and down my skin to reassure myself I’m still here. Still breathing. I’m not in danger anymore. I swear I can almost feel David’s thick fingers squeezing the air from my throat. A sob escapes my mouth and I shiver all over. Ky is at my side so fast I wonder if he was actually sleeping in the corridor outside waiting for this to happen. He slides into the bed, cradling me without invitation, but I’m far too upset to push him away. He holds me close while I bawl into his chest, soaking his shirt with my tears. He presses kisses to my hair while I shake in his arms, my entire body trembling and quaking against him. He continues to comfort me without speaking, and I cling to him like a limpet, desperately needing his strength to ground me. Gradually, my weeping subsides, and my heart rate returns to normal. I lift my head, shucking out of his grasp, refusing to look at him. “Thank you.” I sniffle. “I’m okay now. You can go back to bed.”
I turn on the opposite side, lying down as I pull the covers up over me.
“Faye, I’m sorry I let you down. So unbelievably sorry. Please stop shutting me out. Let me help you now—I’m begging you.” Cautiously, he moves behind me, lining his body up against mine outside the duvet. His arms snake around my waist, and I close my eyes, struggling against the urge to melt into his touch. “I love you. I love you so much. I’ve spoken with Kal, and he knows the score. I’m going to tell Addison to go to hell tomorrow. I’m finished with her. She’s not going to come between us again.”
I twist around urgently. “No! You can’t do that. Not this close to Kal’s trial.”
“I want you back. I need you. You need me. I’m done with her ruining everything.”
His fingers meander in and out of my hair, and I could close the gap between us so easily. His lips look enticingly soft and inviting, and all it would take is one press of my mouth against his, and he’d take this pain away. But I can’t forget so easily. It would be a momentary distraction and nothing else.
I shake my head. “You can’t let your brother down. He needs you. It’s only one more week.”
The intense look on his face sends shivers through me. “You’re more important.”
I push away from him, anger rampaging through me. “Don’t say that! It’s too bloody late!”
He combs his fingers through his hair. “Then what? What will it take for you to forgive me? Tell me and I’ll do it.”
He looks so tortured, so distressed, that I take pity on him. Reaching out, I lace my fingers in his. “I’ve already forgiven you.” Shock splatters across his features. “But,” I cut in quickly when I see the euphoria in his eyes, “it makes no difference to how I feel. I can understand why you did what you did, and forgive you for it, but I can’t forget that you still chose her over me.”
“Faye, you know that’s not what it was.” His eyes beseech me. “I would never willingly choose her over you!”
My anger returns, jumping up and slapping me in the face. “I know no such thing!” I hiss. “I would never have phoned you when you were with her unless it was an emergency.” I prod my finger in his chest. “You knew that, and still you chose to ignore my call. You can’t tell me you had no other choice when I know you could’ve made up an excuse later.”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly in the moment!” he pleads.
“No, you weren’t.” A bitter taste floods my mouth. “You were too busy making out with her!” I’m yelling at this point, but I’m beyond caring. His face pales as realization dawns. “Yeah, I’ve seen the pics she posted online. While I was almost strangled to death, you were enjoying a lap dance from that conniving whore. So, tell me, please, how the fuck am I supposed to forget that?!”
The anguish and torment on his face is clear as day, and it’s challenging not to react to his primitive reaction, but anger and frustration are still clouding my judgment, and I can’t offer him any solace. He’s hurt me more than he realizes. His mournful eyes acknowledge my thought process, and he starts retreating into himself. I watch as he shuts down, sheltering himself behind an impassive mask, in the only way he knows. It’s not a healthy way to deal with trauma, but it’s his usual coping mechanism.
I hate this. Ha
te that she has come between us again, but I can’t change how I feel.
“What are you doing in here?” Kal asks, storming into the room in nothing but a pair of gym shorts. “Get out. You’re upsetting her.”
Ky ignores him, sticking dark, troubled eyes on me instead. “You think I don’t hate myself for that? You think I don’t have my own nightmares? You think this is easy for me?” His eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I. Love. You. And I want to make it up to you. I will never let you down again. Please, baby. I am so fucking sorry. You have no idea how much. Please let me in.”
Tears cascade down my cheeks as Kal slips into the bed, and I scoot over into his arms. Ky’s shoulders droop as all the fight leaves him. “I can’t, Ky. I wish I could, but I just can’t.”
Another five days pass. Ky doesn’t come near me, and I’d like to say it eases my heartache, but in all honesty, it makes no difference. My heart still hurts like it’s been put through a shredder. My stitches are removed, and I’m left with a long, jagged scar scissoring right across the center of my stomach. Bye-bye bikini-wearing days. Thankfully, there was no permanent damage to my vocal cords and I’m sounding like myself again. The rest of my injuries have fully healed, and I consider it lucky that I survived with so few permanent physical reminders. Mentally, I haven’t escaped unscathed, and I don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to fall asleep at night unafraid.
When the police show up at the house later on—the day before Kal’s trial is due to start—I fully expect it to be the reason for their visit, so I’m hugely surprised when James calls me up to his study. Keaton comes with me for moral support. Ky is already in the room, standing sternly in front of the fire, almost challenging me to evict him. I can’t look at him for the pain and longing in my heart. Such utter confusion is tearing me apart, and it’s a wonder I’m so composed.
“Take a seat, sweetheart,” James says, pulling out a chair for me. “The officers want to update us on David’s case.” I shudder as giant chills swathe me in an icy layer of dread, dropping into the chair as my limbs give out underneath me. “David has confessed to killing his daughter, Emily, and Jessie Higgins, the girl who was murdered last year. He has also coughed up to your attempted murder.” I shiver profusely. Ky makes a move to come to me, but I stall him with one look. Keaton sits on the arm of the chair, slinging his arm around me. I lean my head on his shoulder, fisting handfuls of his sweater while the police officer carries on. “However, he has been diagnosed with a psychotic illness and deemed mentally incompetent to stand trial at this time.”
Losing Kyler (The Kennedy Boys Book 2) Page 26
