Read Tapped (Totaled Book 2) Online

Authors: Stacey Grice

Tapped (Totaled Book 2) (7 page)

BOOK: Tapped (Totaled Book 2)
4.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

            And I lost it. I lost it completely, crying out in the stable. My body shook with sobs, my voice wailing into the silent night. I held nothing back, letting go so much that I had to catch my breath in between howls. I wept into Ginger, mourning the loss of my relationship by my very own hands. This animal that barely knew me and couldn’t possibly understand what I was feeling did just that—she understood. She was there. Even though she could only communicate with me through her eyes and physicality, she was able to perceive that I was in pain. I was vulnerable and lost and being comforted by a horse who was literally hugging me. The onslaught of emotion was near crippling and at the same time, exactly the release I needed.

            After a few minutes, I calmed myself and withdrew, backing away but thanking her with affection as I retreated. My movement was picked up by a motion light at the stable door to my left and the soft glow illuminated the aisle. I looked at Ginger, really able to see her then. On the side of her neck where my head was resting was a mark, a wet spot left by my tears. It was just a small splotch, but it ignited a profound reaction in me, jumpstarting my brain so I was truly able to reflect on things.

            We were all full of marks. Some we gave ourselves, some inflicted by others. Some temporary nicks and dents and others permanent, scarring us as reminders of what we’ve gone through in life forever. Everything we’ve ever said or done to another person leaves some sort of mark. We smudge and stain the ones that surround us with hurtful comments. We stamp their hearts with pain. But we also score their souls with love, affection, happiness, and gratitude. We imprint on them with everything that we are. I hoped and believed that I made enough of an impression on Bree’s soul with my love that the damage from the marks I gave her the other night would be healed. I prayed that I didn’t scar her or our relationship with a permanent reminder that would keep her away. I was hopeful that with the proper help, the marks that I bore didn’t ruin me for her. I had faith that the marks we leave aren’t always negative ones.

 

Chapter Nine

 

BREE

 

            I was awake but hadn’t opened my eyes yet. It felt so much better to be in my own bed, comforted by my own blankets and sheets. I extended my arms, twisted my torso, and kicked out my legs to stretch when my left foot was met by something hard at the end of my bed. Of course my eyes immediately opened, easier than they had been lately, and in my view was Liam. He was sitting at the foot of my bed facing the door, his head hanging slightly. He appeared as though he was intensely thinking about something.

            I thought I’d done well by coming home late last night. I hoped that waiting one more night before seeing my dad and Liam would allow my injuries to heal that much more. But in actuality, I only postponed the inevitable. I was scared and avoiding the confrontation until the last possible second. It was wrong and inconsiderate.

            “Liam.” I called his name like it was a statement.

            He heard me but made no effort to acknowledge me. I sat up, propping my pillow up behind my back, and tried to wipe the crust from the inner corners of my eyes, noticing that my left eye wasn’t quite as tender. I wished a silent wish that it looked better too.

            “Liam, will you please listen to me?” He looked up and met my gaze, terrified. “I’ll explain everything to you, but I want you to really listen to me, okay? I don’t want you to jump to any conclusions. You think you can do that?”

            “Yeah. I wish someone would tell me something. No one ever tells me anything. You all think I can’t handle it. But I
can
handle it! I can handle
a lot
!” he exclaimed, raising his voice in a tantrum-like fashion.

            It rocked my fragile emotional state because he was right. Everyone tiptoed around him, assuming exactly what he said—that he couldn’t handle it. Unfortunately, even I was guilty of it at times.

            “Dad told me you were in a little accident. You don’t look like it was a
little
accident. What happened to you?” He was scared and I felt awful.

            “I’m going to tell you what happened, but I want you to try to be patient and listen to my whole story before you ask me questions, okay? What I’m going to tell you may be confusing and it might upset you, but I want you to try not to get angry. Please promise me that.” I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. I needed the connection. I needed him to feel me and know I was going to be okay.

            “I promise,” he grumbled.

            “Remember when we were kids and you used to have bad dreams sometimes? You would wake up scared and sneak into my room to sleep with me?” I asked. I needed to try to get through to him on his level.

            “Yes. I remember. I don’t really have those anymore. Not for a long time,” he replied, sounding so innocent.

            “When you had them, I would always ask you what the dream was about. And you could never tell me. Do you remember that?” I
needed
him to recall. I needed him to understand.

            “A little bit. I don’t know what they were about. I was just scared. And sometimes they would make me cry.” 

            Now we were getting somewhere. Stay with me here, buddy.

            “Yes. Sometimes you would wake up crying. Sometimes you would be sweaty, like you’d just been running away from something bad. But as soon as you woke up, the bad thing was gone and you could calm down. Once you realized that everything was fine.”

            He sat listening to me, his full attention on my every word.

            “The other night, I was spending time with Drew at his house. We were so tired that we both fell asleep. Drew started to have a bad dream too, just like the ones you used to have. They’re called nightmares. Except in Drew’s bad dream, he was fighting against the bad guy.” I looked into Liam’s eyes as I spoke and didn’t dare let go of his hand. I needed him to feel me while he heard me, but I also needed to draw strength from him while I recalled the events that were so painful to even think about. Pausing to take a breath, Liam turned his body to face me more, opening up to me, showing me that he was listening. “I was lying next to Drew when he was having this nightmare and I accidently got hit. He hit me a few times, actually. But he didn’t know it was me. He was still dreaming and thought that he was fighting the bad guy.”

            God, I don’t know if I can do this.

            “Why didn’t you wake him up?” Liam inquired.

            I wished it were just that simple.

            “I tried to wake him up, but he was in a deep sleep and I couldn’t get through to him. And you know how big Drew is. I’m much smaller than him and I couldn’t fight back very well. He hit me a bunch of times, by accident. That’s why my face looks like this.”

            Liam broke eye contact and let go of my hand to join his own. He began wringing them together out of nervousness or something.

            “Does it hurt?” he asked innocently.

            “At first it did. But not so much now. I’m going to be just fine, Liam. Everything will heal and go back to normal. Just like when you got hurt in Atlanta. Your nose was broken and you had that big cut on your head, but with a little rest and time, everything healed all back to normal.”

            I watched his face for a reaction but there was almost nothing. No changes in his expression to indicate how he was feeling about what I’d just revealed. I had to wait for him to respond.

            “What about Drew? Did he get hurt too?” So virtuous and honest. This was, after all, his friend. And he didn’t have the real world awareness to think anything different than what I offered to him as an explanation. No jumps to conclusions of an abusive boyfriend or night of domestic violence. No blaming or condescending pity. Just concern.

            “Well, he isn’t physically hurt. He didn’t get hit like I did. But his feelings are hurt. He feels bad for accidently hurting me when he didn’t mean to.” I guessed that was true. It was an assumption but one I was sure of. The way that my father had described his appearance suggested that he was devastated. “He’s going to go get some help, though,” I explained. “A special doctor that helps people with bad dreams is going to be seeing him and will hopefully help him to not have any more of these awful nightmares. He’s going to be gone for a little while, working on all that.”

            “What about his training? He’s not going to come to the gym and work out?” he asked, panicked. Not only did Drew not showing up at the gym affect his own training, but it affected Liam’s as well.

            “Just for a little bit. The special doctor doesn’t live here. He’s out of town, so he’s going to take a break until he’s better. Just like when fighters get an injury and hurt their arm or leg and have to take a break to heal before training, Drew has to take a break and let his head heal. Bad dreams come from your brain inside your head. And if you’re having too many bad dreams, you aren’t sleeping enough. You know how bad you feel when you don’t sleep well and then try to train. It isn’t healthy for anyone.”

            Liam looked accepting of everything and I couldn’t have been more pleased with the entire conversation. I wish it was this easy to talk to everyone. I wish others could listen this objectively and free of judgment.

            He stood, signaling that he was done talking about it, but then hesitated before exiting the room. “I felt it, you know…” He turned to look at me. “I felt you get hurt. I woke up the other morning really early. It was still dark outside. My stomach hurt really bad and I threw up a few times. I thought I just ate something bad, but that was when you got hurt, wasn’t it?” he asked.

            My wall of strength was crumbling. A few tears formed when Liam came to hug me briefly before leaving my room. Mourning my relationship with Drew and the hurt that my brother felt, I let the tears fall.

 

Chapter Ten

 

DREW

 

            The next morning, I knew it was time I took ownership of the mess I’d made. I went downstairs for breakfast, and while enjoying the meal that Joan had so kindly prepared, I cut right to the chase.

            “So how soon can I see your guy?” I asked, addressing Mick.

            “Uh, we can call him this mornin’ and see if he’s got any availability. So yer serious about this then?” he questioned with doubt in his tone. 

            “I am. I love her. More than anything. I can’t imagine my life without her in it. Even if she’s never able to forgive me for what I’ve done, I need her in my life. She
is
my life. She and Liam and Pat are my family. Pat is my career. Everything that’s good in my world is in Fernandina…well, besides you guys.”

            Joan and Mick smiled at my declaration. It made me feel good, but I didn’t want to lose focus. I needed them to hear me.

            “I’ve been having nightmares since my parents died but I had no idea they were this bad. I had no idea I could ever hurt someone. I’m so sorry that it was her, angry that I ended up hurting her, but this is a huge wakeup call.”

            “How so?” Mick asked, genuine and caring.

            “I thought about everything last night. I had another dream, actually. I don’t always remember my dreams or nightmares, but last night I woke up with a very clear recollection. I was in the middle of the ocean, drifting along with the current, with nothing around. I couldn’t see land or any boat. I was just lost. It’s got to mean something. I have to believe that it means something. I was lost at sea, just like I feel right now. But you and Pat are tossing me a life raft and I’ll be damned if I let it slip away.”

            I honestly believed what I was saying. I heard the conviction in my words and felt alive, empowered, determined to change this all.

            “I’m proud of you, Drew. We’re all behind you one hundred percent,” Joan encouraged.

            “Yeah. I gotta tell ya, when I saw you out in the stable last night, I didn’t know what to think. I certainly didn’t ‘spect ya to wake up all rarin’ to go today, demandin’ to see my therapist fella straight away. We’ll set sumthin’ up for ya just as soon as he’ll have ya. I like yer gumption,” Mick added, setting his mug of coffee down a little harder on the table than necessary.

            “You saw that, huh?” I was embarrassed that he witnessed my breakdown with Ginger. Who the hell has a good crying jag with a horse?

            “Just from a distance. I didn’t wanna interfere. I just saw ya talkin’ to my pal Ginger and flipped the light on for y’all. I didn’t hear a thing,” he proclaimed, making me feel a touch better.

            We ate breakfast and Mick called the office of “his fella” to try to set up an appointment. Overhearing the conversation a little more than I probably should have left me more than skeptical. He sounded like he was talking to an old friend from high school or something. It wasn’t exactly the most professional of appointment making conversations, and I knew my problems needed some hardcore professional assistance. But what did I have to lose? If Mick trusted and recommended him, I could take a chance. They were all certainly taking a chance on me.

            It turned out that he could see me that afternoon at 3:30. We essentially had an entire day to waste until my consultation and I needed to keep my body and (mostly) my mind busy. I grilled Mick for any projects around the house or property that needed tending to, insisting that it was the least I could do in exchange for their hospitality. The only thing he could come up with was mowing the yard. It would have to do. Little did I know that when he said “mow the yard,” he really meant “plow the field.” He wanted me to mow one of the ten-acre pastures in the back of his property. I thought, ten acres? Okay. Totally doable. Ten acres isn’t all that big. Well, bullshit. Ten acres is huge. When we walked to the edge of the fence and I peered out at the expansive field before me, I was sure it would take me days.

BOOK: Tapped (Totaled Book 2)
4.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Bride Price by Anne Mallory
Ethereal Knights by Moore, Addison
Desperate by Sylvia McDaniel
Love Medicine by Louise Erdrich