Split

by JB Salsbury

  His chin drops. “Gage,” he whispers.

  “Tell me what he did, Lucas.” I squeeze his hand, encouraging him to trust me.

  “You read the news reports. That’s all I know.” His head rolls on his shoulders. “Only Gage knows the truth.”

  There wasn’t a single mention of Lucas’s psychiatric oddity in any of the articles I read. They all make Lucas out to be a loner, a decent student, a loving brother who neighbors said was always caring for his younger siblings. There was no mention of dissociative identity disorder. Matter of fact, according to published reports, Lucas passed all his psych evaluations and lie detector tests.

  “Can’t you just ask him?”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t communicate with that…side…of me. I can’t reach him.”

  “So you’ll never really know what happened that day.”

  His lifts his gaze. “No. When I was arrested, the entire time I was locked up, during the trial, he never surfaced. Not even once.” His expression twists in agony as if the helplessness, the being left in the dark, is eating him alive. “But it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Everyone died except me.” He has no idea what happened that day, has to live with the fact that he could be responsible for the death of his siblings.

  Gage might not be able to tell Lucas what happened; my guess is he wouldn’t want him to know in order to protect him.

  But he can tell me.

  I can get the truth from Gage and release Lucas of the pain of not knowing the truth of what happened that day.

  “He protects me; he’s always protected me, regardless of the cost.”

  “Then why, why would he murder your siblings? They were younger than you, right? They weren’t hurting you, but…” I swallow, terrified to bring up the inevitable. “Your momma, she hurt you, Lucas.”

  He nods again and his shoulders slump. “I’m afraid, I’m afraid that my brothers and sister got caught up in the cross fire, and that…that would be my fault. Gage protected me, but it was my job to protect them and I failed.” He sets cold gray eyes on me. “Don’t you see? Even if I didn’t pull the trigger, and I very well could have, I didn’t protect them and they’re dead because of me.”

  “Don’t do that, Lucas. Don’t put this on yourself.”

  His body stiffens and he glares up at me. “Don’t put this on myself? How can you say that? It’s all on me. Gage is me! Who he hurts, I hurt!” His eyelids flicker and the rage building in his voice makes me step back. “He came and protected me, but he didn’t protect them!” Jaw tight, he punches a fist into his chest so hard it thumps. “Me! I didn’t protect them!” His shoulders tense and he breathes heavy through flared nostrils. “So stop saying it wasn’t me!”

  The pain in his voice constricts my chest. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you doing this, Shyann?” His voice cracks. “Why couldn’t you just stay away?”

  “I—”

  “Why!”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” I whisper it over and over and receive no reply. I avert my eyes to the ground like a submissive dog trying to gain favor. I can hear his heavy breathing slow to calm and slowly I peek up at him. “Lucas, I’m only trying to help—” A gasp shoots from my lips and I desperately try to school my expression. “Gage.”

  Gage

  This bitch is gonna die.

  Right fucking now.

  I rub circles into the tight muscles of my aching neck and lean back against the bed of Luke’s truck. Keeping my eyes on the nosy whore staring back at me, a slow grin crawls across my face.

  “Hey, Shy. Ann.” I straighten and take a step toward her. “Just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?”

  Her icy-blue eyes widen. I can practically scent her fear. My strong Shyann is finally afraid. My blood pumps with excitement. I take another step toward her.

  She holds up a hand and I smirk at the way her fingers tremble. “Hang on, Gage, just…hear me out.”

  I slide my head back and forth, then snap my eyes to hers. “Warned you plenty.” I tilt my head. “Never listened.”

  “Let me explain—”

  “Sick of hearin’ your voice.”

  The column of her throat bobs with a thick swallow. “Gage…” My name shakes on her lips.

  I groan and grip my raging hard-on. “Stop turnin’ me on. Need to teach you a lesson, and you makin’ me hard is gonna make this a lot more fun for me.” I shrug one shoulder. “Not so much fun for you.”

  A whimper slides from her lips and fuck if it isn’t the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever heard. Breaking her down piece by piece and now she’s finally defeated. I. Win. “Please…” Her eyes dart around, as if she’s looking for an escape.

  “Run. I’ll catch you.” I fake-lunge and she stumbles but regains her footing.

  A noise catches my attention. Humming, or…I study the source and find it when Shyann pulls her cell phone from her pocket and fumbles to get it to her ear. “Hello?!” She’s breathing heavy and her shoulders sag in relief.

  I ball my fists at my side. Dammit!

  “Loreen, yeah…” Her eyes come to mine. “Listen, I need— What?”

  I plant my feet, cross my arms at my chest, and wait. She’s gonna tell whoever is on the phone to call the cops; I’ll drop back and let Luke take over and no one plays innocent as well as the innocent. Luke won’t remember shit; they could hook him to a lie detector and he’d pass with flying colors.

  Worked before.

  It’ll work again.

  “Oh my God, is she okay?” Shyann doesn’t take her eyes off me, as if she’s waiting for me to pounce. “Do they have any idea who did it?”

  My little news reporter, always gathering information. Nosy bitch.

  “Which hospital?”

  Hospital?

  A weird feeling comes over me but I squash it before I allow myself to question it too much while I pace, waiting.

  “Okay, I’ll do whatever I can to help. Thanks, Loreen.” She hits a button and the second her eyes meet mine, she jerks. “Gage, I know you’re angry, but we need to go.”

  “Like hell we do. I’m not finished—”

  “Sam’s been hurt. She’s in the ICU.” Her bottom lip quivers, but she blows out a long breath and stops it. “Someone hurt her bad, Gage.”

  She pushes past me and climbs into the truck while I stand there staring at the space she just vacated. What the hell? One minute she’s scared shitless, and rightfully so; the next she’s treating me like I’m her fucking chauffeur.

  “Come on!”

  I blink and turn slowly, only to find her staring at me impatiently from the open window.

  “You’re not scared anymore.” The words fall from my stunned lips.

  “I know you’re mad, and we have so much more to talk about, but I need to get to Sam.”

  “But…” What fucking good am I if I can’t scare away people who hurt Luke? This bitch just found out I murdered my entire family to protect Luke, and she’s treating me like…a friend? Something about that bothers the shit out of me. “Do you care that little about your life?” Why does her lack of self-preservation make my chest feel tight? Damn, this witch!

  “I care a lot about my life. But if your plan is to kill me, you’ve had and will have plenty of opportunity to carry that out. For now, please just take me to my truck.”

  Dumb-fucking-struck.

  I numbly walk to the truck, turn it on, and take Shyann to her truck, parked at the work site. She climbs out, slams the door, but sticks her head through the open window, sleek and shiny black hair spilling in too. “Unless you plan on letting Lucas come forward, you better take off. I’ll cover for you.”

  What the fuck! “I don’t need you covering—”

  “You may not know this but it’s pretty obvious you’re not him. It’s…um…” She motions to her own eyes and a tiny blush colors her cheeks. “All in here. Your expressions, they’re different.”

  Pr
otecting Lucas. Again. “I—”

  “We’ll talk later, okay?”

  Reassuring me?

  I’m speechless.

  She thumps the hood of the truck twice in goodbye and jogs away.

  Who the fuck is this woman?

  She’s throwing up a big fat fuck you to every single thing I thought I knew.

  For the first time in forever I feel…useless.

  Twenty-Eight

  Shyann

  I slam through the hospital doors and skid to a stop in the waiting room. The place is filled with people, all quiet, and now staring at me.

  The Payson Regional Medical Center is a hospital that matches its town: small, unimpressive, but functional. I spot the reception desk and move to it, eyes on a petite brunette whose friendly smile is aimed my way.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yeah, I was told Samantha Crawford was brought here?”

  She frowns. “Yes, are you family?”

  “No, but—”

  “Shy?”

  I whip my head toward the deep male voice calling my name and my eyes narrow. “Dustin, I just heard. How is she?”

  The whites of his eyes are bloodshot and the skin surrounding them is puffy. He jerks his head toward a section of the room that’s mostly empty except for a man and an elderly woman who is engrossed in knitting a pink blanket. We drop down to a couple plastic chairs in the corner.

  “It’s bad, Shy…” His voice is unsteady. “Her face, it’s—”

  “You were there?”

  “No, she called me. I could barely make out what she was saying, so I called nine-one-one and raced to her house.” His eyes fill with tears. “I beat the ambulance. Door was wide open and I could hear her moaning.”

  “Someone broke in?”

  He shrugs. “Don’t know. By the time I got to her, she took one look at me and passed out. She’d been there for a while; all the blood was old. Must’ve happened in the night.” He leans forward, putting his head in his hands. “She’d been beaten pretty bad. Her face, her body, God…Shy, I hardly recognized her.”

  My throat swells and a shiver races down my spine. Could the Shadow have moved into Payson? It’s always been a relatively safe town. Besides the bar fights and the occasional domestic disturbances, the crime rate is lower than the bigger cities that surround it.

  “What do the cops think happened?”

  “They’re investigating. Can’t get a statement out of her until she recovers enough to talk.” He cringes. “If she recovers enough to talk.”

  I slump back in my seat and dig the heels of my palms into my eyes. I don’t know enough about the life Sam lives to speculate who would’ve done this to her. As far as I know, she dates freely, has a few friends, but doesn’t seem to have any real enemies. The more my mind attempts to come up with a logical suspect, the more related to the Shadow attacks this seems.

  “Thing is, everyone knows everyone in this town and no one seems to have seen shit.” He tilts his head to look up at me. “How is that possible, Shy? Not a single witness?”

  There’s so much pain in his eyes that I feel guilty for any anger I had at their being together. He clearly cares for her.

  “Dustin, what if her attack is part of the ones happening in Phoenix and Flag?”

  “Maybe. Although…” He blows out a shaky breath. “Girls at Pete’s said they saw that kid Lucas with her.”

  My breath freezes in my lungs.

  “That guy’s a loose fucking cannon. Came by my shop to confront me ’bout you.”

  I jerk away from Dustin as if he were on fire. Lord knows he’s hurting for Sam, so I try to soften what I’m about to say. “Lucas isn’t capable of the kind of violence you’re describing.”

  He fixes me with a glare. “How can you say that? He started a fight with me.”

  “Dustin, you had me locked to your body and wouldn’t let me go.” The high-pitched sound of my voice catches the attention of a man near us and he peeks over his People magazine. I smile at him, then clear my throat and pray to calm down. “You instigated that and you know it. And him going into your feed store to shop is hardly confrontational.”

  He sits up to his full height and angles his body to face mine. “That what he told you?”

  “Don’t do this, Dustin. I know you’re pissed and you want to blame someone, but I’m telling you, Lucas is not responsible.”

  “Yeah? Would you bet Sam’s life on that?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Can’t believe you’re stickin’ up for him.”

  “I know him, and he’s not c-capable of what you’re accusing him of—”

  “You know him. You really know him? You blow in town for what? A few weeks and you know this guy? Don’t be so naïve, Shy. You don’t know shit about him.”

  Has it only been a few weeks?

  I can hear the logic in Dustin’s words, register them as making complete sense, and can even hear myself giving the same speech to myself in an out-of-body kind of way. Truth is, as much as I think I know Lucas, even claim to understand Gage, he spent time locked up for murder. Of his own family no less.

  Is it possible that he’s capable of hurting Sam too?

  Every cell in my body revolts against the idea.

  Not Lucas. No way.

  But Gage…

  Memories flash behind my eyes. His beautiful face twisted in rage and staring down at me while pushing me underwater. His clenched teeth and sickening smile as he held my throat while his fingers refused to let up despite my begging.

  And even less than an hour ago, the way his arms shook with rage while he stalked toward me in the forest.

  That is the kind of man who would commit murder.

  Beat and maim to prove a point.

  But why Sam?

  That makes no sense. Gage didn’t want Sam before; he flat out refused and even belittled her. What could she have possibly done to deserve getting beaten? What did I do that deserved coming within a few short breaths of being drowned?

  Lucas. We’re all a threat to Lucas.

  Women seem to trigger it.

  Lucas’s words filter through my head.

  I shoot upright and turn to address Dustin. “I’ll be back later.”

  He snags me by the hand. “Stay away from him, Shy, at least until they figure out who’s responsible for this.”

  “I will. I’ll stay away from Lucas.” I lie without stuttering because Lucas isn’t the one I need to talk to.

  The key will be bringing forward the one with the answers. I’ll figure out how to get him to confide in me.

  The problem will be staying safe while I do.

  Gage

  I’m parked on the front porch of the river house, Buddy’s head in my lap as I run my fingers through his mangy coat. He peers up at me through dark eyes that beg for me to keep scratching. “Get an inch, take a foot, is that it?” His eyelids get heavy when I hit his favorite spot right behind his ear.

  If only women were as easy to control.

  Feeling settled, I gear up to pull back and let Luke take over when I hear the sound of an engine and tires on gravel over my left shoulder.

  Great. What now?

  Never having been the type to give a shit about hospitality, I don’t bother getting up.

  A car door slams and seconds later footsteps crunch earth, growing closer, until they stop.

  “Hey!”

  I slide my gaze to Shyann, who’s focused curiously on the dog before she squints and focuses on me. She lifts her chin, but I notice she keeps a safe distance between us.

  “Good, it’s you.” She takes a few steps closer, but far enough away that it would take a great bit of effort to grab her. “Let’s walk.”

  I tilt my head, lean back in my wooden chair, and prop my feet on the railing. “No thanks.” I motion to Buddy. “I’m busy.”

  “He never comes out like that for Lucas.”

  My gaze drops to the near-sleeping dog in my lap. “So?”


  “He feels safe around you.”

  Her brow lifts as if she’s finally cracked my armor and damn proud of herself for it. She has no idea what I’m capable of. “What do you want, Shy?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “We don’t.” I turn away from her and focus on the creek. “Not sure why you keep hanging around.”

  The sound of her shuffling closer makes me want to lunge for her throat.

  “I want to show you something.” Her voice loses its power, as if she’s struggling for the right thing to say. “It’s important and, just…fuck.”

  Her weakness sends a thrill down my spine, like dying prey in the ears of a predator. “I might be interested if what you wanna show me is in your pants…” I run my thumb along my lower lip and slide my gaze from her booted feet to her curve-hugging sweater. “On second thought, no thanks. You’re not my type.”

  Her eyes flame with anger and her mouth forms a tight line.

  I chuckle; I can’t fuckin’ help it. This woman has been more fun to torture than anyone I’ve ever met. She wants to know why I haven’t killed her yet? I’m not done playing.

  “You intend to scare me, belittle me, make being in your presence unbearable, and yet you can’t stand to be alone with me.” She props two delicate hands on her hips. “Looks like I’m the intimidating one, huh, Gage?”

  My glare pulls so tight my eye twitches. “We go for a walk, only one of us might come back.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Ya know, real psychopaths don’t openly threaten the person they want to kill. They disguise themselves as safe to lure in their victims. Come on, Gage. You can do better than that.”

  I drop the front legs of my chair to the wood deck, making her jump.

  “Hmmm…” I lick my lips. “Excellent point, Shyann.” I purr the first part of her name. “I’ll go for a walk with you.”

  She exhales a shaky breath and I stalk toward her; every step seems to increase her breathing and for a ridiculous second I imagine what it would feel like to have her under me breathing like that. I banish the thought as quickly as it came and blame Luke and his pussy-whipped feelings.