Shattered King

by Sherilee Gray

  Sara stared at him for a second, blinking rapidly, then pulled me into her, hugging me so tight I could barely breathe, and laughed, soft and husky. “Oh, bunny, I’m so glad you’re home.”

  I buried my face in her neck and worked very hard at not falling apart.

  Josh devoured a PB and J followed by a small piece of cake and a glass of milk, while I showered and changed. I ignored his sleepy protests, and changed him into his PJs, tucking him up in the double bed in the spare room at the back of the house. He handed me his favorite book, Roscoe the Wonder Dog, and I got down to the serious business of reading him a bedtime story. Something I had to do every night without fail. I ran my fingers softly over his hair, hair that never seemed to want to sit flat, and vowed, like I did every day, that I would never let anyone hurt him, that I would protect him with my life if I had to. I stayed until he was out cold a few minutes later.

  I kissed his cheek and headed to the kitchen. When I walked in, Sara was filling two coffee cups. She looked up at me when I joined her, eyes warm, but concerned.

  She bit her lip. “Are you sure about this?”

  I took a seat and she took the one across from me, sliding over my mug. “I have to go to her.”

  Her slender fingers tightened around her mug. “I know, baby.”

  God, sometimes Sara sounded so much like my mother it hurt to listen to her voice. And sometimes when she’d call, I’d let myself believe it. Just for a few seconds. Until my heart felt like it would explode in my chest, until the guilt over leaving her became too much.

  I’m so sorry, Mom.

  As we sipped our coffee, Sara explained where I would meet her friend. “She’ll take you to Elizabeth, but then you’re on your own. If you get caught . . .”

  I reached out and grabbed her hand. “I won’t.” Hospice patients were allowed visitors twenty-four hours a day, but if you wanted to visit after 8:30 p.m., you had to call ahead. No way I could do that. If any of the nurses told Pierce, I was screwed. “But if I do . . .” This had to be said. “I need you to promise me you won’t call the police. At least, not right away.”

  She paled. “Lucinda . . .”

  “I have my reasons, but it’s important. Please, I need you to promise.” If the cops got involved, Josh’s existence would be out in the open. I couldn’t have that. If Pierce got hold of me, I was in serious trouble, but I didn’t think he’d kill me. What he could do was threaten Josh, hurt him, use him to control me.

  “This has to do with Pierce and why you left, this request?”

  I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Yes.”

  Her hands shook slightly, but she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, but there was no hiding the fact she was worried.

  Hell, I was worried. But I didn’t have any other choice. What else could I do? This was my one and only chance. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I wish you’d stay,” she said softly.

  My heart squeezed. “I wish it was that easy, but you know we can’t do that.”

  “Maybe . . . maybe it’s time to tell Hunter about Josh.”

  “No!” The word exploded past my lips, but Sara wasn’t having any of it and talked right over me.

  “He and Van have that P.I business now. They could help you, keep you safe. I don’t know what happened between you and Hunter, but I do know he’s a good man, prison or not. I never believed he did what they said. He loved you, Lulu. He loved you like John loved me. And, bunny, that kind of love only comes around once in a lifetime.”

  I’d never told her why I ran, just that it had something to do with Pierce, and she’d stopped asking. I guess she hoped I’d tell her on my own when I was ready. I’d never tell her. She didn’t need to live with the horror of my past as well. I didn’t want her getting caught up in my shit, more than she already was. She’d find a way to blame herself, when no one could have stopped what happened to Hunter or me. And she sure as hell didn’t need that kind of danger at her door.

  “Hunter can’t know about Josh.” I took her hand. “Van can’t know either. Promise me, Sara. Promise me you won’t tell them.”

  My aunt stared at me, wanting more, but knowing she wouldn’t get it. In the end, she gave in. “All right. If you think that’s best.”

  “It is.” Hunter could never find us, could never know about Josh.

  Could never learn the truth.

  Hunter would be out of prison now, and I knew he’d come looking for me eventually. I had no doubt. I’d screwed him over. Lied. Hunter hated liars, hated secrets, and I’d done both.

  I’d had three years. Three years to make a new life for myself, to make sure my baby was safe. It turns out three years hadn’t been long enough. Not by a long shot.

  Sara glanced at the delicate, gold watch on her wrist. “You have to meet Carol in about an hour.”

  Carol, my aunt’s friend, was going to meet me and I wanted to be there early, just in case. “I better go.”

  My aunt stood, came around the table, and pulled me into her arms. “I’ll wait up.”

  There was no point telling her not to. She’d worry until I got home. “Okay,” I whispered into her hair.

  She gave me one last squeeze then let me go.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Lulu

  I didn’t park in the hospital parking lot, but a little ways down the street. Since I wasn’t sure what was wrong with my car, I didn’t want to risk breaking down out in the open. That would be extremely bad. And if I allowed myself to think about the cost of getting it fixed, my head would explode. We needed to get back on the road before morning. Staying in New York was too much of a risk. I’d just have to pray to the car gods, beg them to keep my car sputtering and smoking forward until I hit the next town or city, and that it wouldn’t use up all the money I’d put aside.

  I’d managed to scrimp and save just over six hundred dollars. It’d taken two years. Money for a new permanent life in a safe place. I’d already used some to get home, and more would go toward an apartment, wherever we ended up.

  But what choice did I have? All I could do was keep running, keep moving forward.

  I’d dressed light. Carol was going to give me a set of nurse’s scrubs so I could move about unnoticed, since I wasn’t on the visitor schedule. I’d thrown on black cotton shorts and the first tank I’d found in my duffel. It was white and had “Hooters” stretched across the chest. I’d worked at the restaurant right after I ran away.

  When I left the prison, after my visit with Hunter, I’d had no plan. I’d just driven until I ran out of gas. I ended up in Bloomington. I’d never been to Minnesota and it was as good a place as any to stop for a while. But my time as a Hooters waitress hadn’t lasted long. Van, Hunter’s older brother, showed up two weeks after I started. He walked in, expression hard as stone, and I ran before he saw me. After that, I made sure the jobs I got didn’t require more than my name, or the name I chose to give them.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets. All my efforts not to think about why I was here fell away as I neared the hospital’s entrance. What was I going to say when I saw her? I had no idea. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about that either.

  The doors slid open and I scoped out where I needed to go. Head down, I strode toward the cafeteria.

  It was 11:00 p.m., so not crazy busy. I found a table and took a seat. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I fired off a text to Carol, telling her where I was and what I was wearing. I pretended to play with my phone after that. The chances of anyone recognizing me were slim, but I didn’t want to risk it, and kept my eyes down and hair forward.

  Fifteen minutes later, someone slid into the seat beside me. Carol was an older woman with soft brown eyes surrounded by smile lines.

  “Here you go.” She placed a white paper bag on the table in front of me and pointed to one of the exits. “The bathroom’s out that door and to the right. The elevator’s just down from that. The hospice is on the seventh floor.” She placed her hand over mine
and squeezed. Suddenly the emotion I’d been suppressing welled up like a geyser and tears stung the backs of my eyes. “Your mom’s in room fifteen.” Then she stood and walked away.

  When I reached the bathroom, I locked myself in a stall and quickly pulled on the brightly patterned scrub top. My breath was coming fast and shallow as I shoved my feet in the pants, heart racing, palms sweaty. Splashing water on my face, I blinked at my reflection in the mirror. There were no smile lines around my eyes. My skin was smooth. But I looked tired, worn out, used up. Older than my twenty-four years. Would she recognize this face? Yes, my features were the same, but the last three years had taken their toll, had marked me. I looked into my own eyes and shivered at the pain and hopelessness staring back at me.

  Pushing away from the sink, I shut it all down, all of it, the swirling emotions clawing at me, the relentless nightmares of my past. I dried off and headed down the hall to the elevator.

  When the doors slid open on the seventh floor, the sign on the wall opposite told me where I’d find rooms one to twenty. I turned right, my green Converse sneakers squeaking on the shiny linoleum with every step I took. Nerves rolled and twisted in my gut, so strong I felt physically sick.

  The next thing I knew, I was standing in front of her room. I stared at it, frozen. I don’t know how long it took to muster the courage I needed to knock. But my hands shook when I did. There was no reply from inside, so I pushed the door open and walked in, closing it behind me.

  The room was dim, lit only by a bedside lamp. My breath hitched, sticking in my throat when I saw her. She was asleep. There was a yellow scarf tied around her head, and her chin was dipped to the side. She looked pale, small. My mother was petite like me, but she’d lost a lot of weight since I’d last seen her. She looked so frail, utterly fragile. She looked exactly like what she was—a woman who only had a little time left.

  I moved to the bed and looked down at her, tears running hot down my cheeks. I took her hand in mine. Her skin was cool and soft. So soft. My mother always had the softest, most beautiful skin. I lifted my gaze from her hand, back to her beautiful face, and her eyes blinked open, focusing on me.

  Her fingers tightened around mine. “Baby?” she whispered.

  I choked back a sob. “It’s me, Mom.”

  “Lucinda.” She reached up, cupping my face, brushing her thumb over my tear-soaked cheek. At the same time, tears started spilling from her own blue eyes “You’re here.”

  “I’m here.”

  “You’re really here?” Her breathing increased, fingers squeezing mine restlessly. “Pierce and I have been so worried. He’s been looking for you since you left.”

  I shook my head, tried not to let her see how her words affected me. Fear and sadness all rolled into one jagged ball of emotion, bouncing around, battering my insides. I shoved it down, smothered it. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

  I couldn’t tell her why I left, what happened. I didn’t want her to live her last days on this earth knowing the man she married, the man she loved, was nothing but a sick fucking asshole, a criminal, and the reason I’d bolted. That he’d been more interested in the inheritance she’d gotten from my dad and my trust fund than in how beautiful, sweet, and loving she was.

  Oh, he loved my mom, in his own way, as much as a man like that was capable. But it was a twisted, unhealthy kind of love. When they’d married, we’d become his possessions. I’d found out the hard way Pierce didn’t like sharing his possessions, and Hunter had paid the price for daring to take what was his.

  I ran the back of my hand over her smooth cheek. “I can’t tell you why I left, Mom. But I need you to know it had nothing to do with you, nothing. I never wanted to leave you.” I’d left her a note when I ran, telling her I’d fought with my boyfriend and needed to get away. She’d never met Hunter, didn’t even know I was seeing anyone, but it was something I thought she might believe. At least I’d hoped she would. It was all I could come up with at the time.

  She reached for her phone beside the bed. “Pierce. Let me call him. The two of you were always so close. Thick as thieves. He’s been so worried. He can help, baby, he’ll take care of you. He’s been so busy lately, but I know he’d come for you.”

  A cold wash went through my veins, and I wrapped my fingers around hers, stopping her. I shook my head. “I just want to visit with you. We’ll call him tomorrow, okay?”

  Her body seemed to relax and she smiled. “Okay, sweetheart.”

  What did she mean, he’d been busy, but he’d come for me? Hadn’t he been here for her? So many questions fired through my mind, but I bit them back. I didn’t have long, and I didn’t want to waste that time talking about him. Staying here for more than a few minutes was a risk, but I lingered, unable to leave. When I walked out that door, that would be it. I’d never see her again. And that thought was too much to bear.

  We talked for a while, but not once did she mention the scrubs I had on. I guessed she was too happy to see me to notice. I told her about some of the places I’d worked, making it sound like some grand adventure, full of friends and fun. Not dingy apartments, long hours and shitty pay, and fear. So much fear. But what hurt worst of all, was not telling her about Josh. Not telling her that she had a beautiful two-year-old grandson. Withholding it from her felt like a serrated blade to the chest.

  I was talking quietly, rambling really, when she slid her hand up my forearm and squeezed, stopping me.

  Her gaze held mine. “You’re not staying, are you?” she whispered.

  The lump in my throat swelled and forced it down. I shook my head. “I can’t.”

  “Lay down with me.” She shuffled back, making room for me in front of her.

  I climbed up beside her, lying down, and she wrapped her arm around my waist, threading her fingers with mine.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  “Love you too, baby.”

  She relaxed into me and eventually fell asleep. I stayed where I was for another hour, unable to bring myself to let her go. A nurse would come soon to check on her and I couldn’t be here when they did. I turned in her arms, leaned in, and pressed my nose to her shoulder, breathing in her scent. There was a hint of her favorite perfume lingering, a smell I would always associate with her. A smell that even now made my heart ache.

  I kissed her cheek, then pulled my arm away, and slid off the bed. “Bye, Mom.”

  Then I walked out the door, knowing that was the last time I would see her. The last time I would ever hold her. The last time I’d hear her soft voice calling me baby.

  I walked down the hall on autopilot, feeling numb and cold, broken. I didn’t think it was possible to break any more than I already had, but I’d been wrong. I used the closest bathroom, pulled off the scrubs, leaving them in the stall, then left the building.

  People moved around me, the hospital grounds still busy even at one in the morning. I barely noticed them, didn’t remember walking out the door, only realizing where I was when I spotted my car a short distance ahead of me.

  I’d parked it down a side street, where it was quiet, only the occasional car driving by. I pulled the keys from my pocket, walking around to the driver’s side.

  I had my hand on the door handle when someone grabbed me from behind, slamming me into the car.

  I grunted, the wind knocked from me, my head colliding with edge of the roof from the impact. A rough hand grabbed my hair, fingers tugging and fisting the strands. I reached back and scratched the arm attached, sucking in pained, gasping breaths.

  Eyes watering, I let out a shriek and kicked back as hard as I could, connecting with something.

  Whoever held me growled and spun me around. I sucked in a sharp breath when familiar blue eyes burned down at me.

  I started to shake.

  And before my brain had time to fully process the consequences of Hunter’s presence here, pure joy rushed though me.

  It only lasted a second, because I quickly became aware of
how hard and cold those eyes were. The dark edge, the disdain. The joy was instantly replaced with dread, and another round of adrenaline fired through my veins. I jerked out of his hold, taking him off guard. Ignoring the pain in my head, and the ache in my gut, I ran. Ran as fast as I could. I had no idea where I was going, just that I had to get away.

  Strong arms came around me from behind, yanking me off my feet. I struggled, but it was useless. Still, I fought for all I was worth. He spun me around again, pressing me into the cold steel of the car behind me.

  He was breathing heavily, those piercing blue eyes boring into me, that hard body a relentless wall, blocking me from escape. “When you run away, you make me think you aren’t you happy to see me, Lulu.”

  I was shaking violently now. “I . . . I . . . Hunter . . .”

  He shook his head. “Shut up.”

  “Let me go . . . I . . .”

  He covered my mouth with one hand, pinned me to the side of the car with his body, then pulling his phone from his back pocket, keyed in a text. When he was done, he grabbed my upper arm and pulled me away roughly, leading me across the road. Opening the driver’s side door of a black SUV, he shoved me in, then kept coming, forcing me to scramble over to the passenger side. He slammed the door shut, fingers still gripping my arm, and flipped open the glove compartment to pull something out. Taking my wrist, he latched on . . . cuffs. I started to struggle again.

  “Come quietly or I’ll stun gun your ass.”

  I stopped struggling. I didn’t doubt he’d do it.

  He attached the other cuff to something below the seat, so I was forced forward, my face resting on the dash. This position made my head throb harder and put pressure on my aching belly. I was this close to puking.

  He started the car and pulled out into the street. I thought about my car, unlocked behind us, then thanked God I hadn’t brought Josh with me. He was safe. What I didn’t do was think about why I was handcuffed to the floor of Hunter’s car, or what he planned to do to me.