Damage Me (Crystal Gulf Book 2) (6 page)

As she brought the chair close to my bed, I turned my lethal gaze on Bach. He raised his eyebrow and crossed his arm over his chest, not getting the hint or not caring. I wanted him to leave. It wasn’t bad enough he stole my girl and my kid, now he wanted to watch me get into a wheelchair? I scraped my pride off the ground and slid to the edge of the bed. The pain erupted. I did my best to ignore it and grabbed the arms on the wheelchair. The nurse held it still as I eased down. I put my left knee on the seat and then used my momentum to turn, falling gratefully into the chair; my eyes blurred from the pain.

“I’ll wheel him out,” her distant voice said. “Why don’t you go get the car?”

My heart was pounding and my stomach rolled. I hadn’t eaten since Bach’s last visit. I couldn’t remember when that had been. My days and nights blurred together, often indistinguishable. I bit my tongue to keep the water I’d drunken this afternoon down. Once I was sure I wouldn’t puke, I looked up to find the room empty except for the nurse.

I didn’t look back at where I’d lain for the past few months as she pushed me out. I wanted out so badly I’d crawl on my hands and knees.

“Your friend has all of your paperwork. We’ve spoken to you about aftercare countless times. I do hope you’re not alone. It’s hard enough with our help.” She squeezed my shoulders as we waited for the elevator. “Being on your own might feel like all you want to do,” she said, “until that’s all you’ve got.”

I was a disrespectful son of a bitch. Growing up in my house, respect existed just like security—it just didn’t. I’d had no idea how to treat people until the army. My sergeant had knocked something akin to sense into me, Harley taught me how to treat a woman, and Aubrey showed me how beautiful they could be, but there was still that man in me, just like Bach couldn’t lose his dickhead smirk. Who we were was rammed home for years. But these women had put up with me for months. They’d seen my tears, heard my screams, and washed my pathetic body. I held my tongue, choosing to continue my usual behavior and quieted the rage I wanted to expel.

My gaze remained straight ahead as she wheeled me into the elevator. Didn’t move a muscle as we traveled the long bustling hallway on the first floor. Bodies shuffled by me, giving me curious looks.
What happened to him?
They were probably wondering. I didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. My sights were on the large automatic clear doors in front of me. The sun was setting, and gold glared off the glass of the hospital in Galveston. My entire body was tensed. My heart was hammering. I was almost out of here.

There was a huge light brown 4X4 parked in the drop off zone. Bach was leaning against the passenger door, his arms crossed over his chest, expression impassive as he watched me being wheeled out. I eyed his truck with the first real spark of interest I’d felt in months. Beneath my panic, I had to admit it was bad. The grill was mean, radiating the sun. The paint reminded me of something … something light brown and good, but I couldn’t place it.

“He’s all yours,” the nurse said, pulling me into the street alongside Bach. “We’ve talked, Mr. Bachmen. Please heed our advice. As for you, Dylan.” She leaned over and placed her mouth close to my ear. “You’re not as damaged as you think.” After patting my shoulders in a parting gesture, she left me once and for all.

My gaze locked on Bach’s betraying face. “You talked to them?”

He raised one eyebrow.

I wanted to knock him out. Land a hard blow right over that eyebrow. “Stealing my girl wasn’t enough? You had to go behind my back and talk to my nurses?”

Without responding, he opened the passenger door.

I was free. I didn’t need this son of a bitch anymore. I put my hands on the wheels and pushed away. My options were slim, they always had been, but I’d find a way to make it home.

I managed to make it to the roundabout in the middle of the hospital parking lot when my stomach turned. I let it go and puked over the side of my wheelchair and watched the bile laden puddle blend in with the asphalt. It had been hot today if the heat rising from the asphalt was any indicator. Even though I was sitting, I felt lightheaded. My eyes were blurring, and the only thing I could think about was the fact that I couldn’t even leave the hospital without the one bastard I didn’t want.

I didn’t want Bach anymore. The only person I wanted wasn’t allowed to see me. Bach had stolen her too.
What was my daughter doing?

I sat back, ignoring the honking behind me. For the first time in a long time, I wondered what I looked like. I was in a wheelchair for one, stuck, with puke pooling around me. My brown hair, which I’d cut off seven months ago, had grown back, and I hadn’t made one attempt to comb it. My dark blue eyes were probably bloodshot and darkened. My clothes were … I looked down in dismay when I realized they weren’t even mine. Bach brought his clothes to put on me. The tattoos on my right arm clashed with the dark asphalt. I probably looked like a punk thug stuck in the middle of the hospital roundabout with cracked lips and no future. My leg didn’t work, the pain turned my stomach, and my ex best friend had just pulled up, having all that I wanted.

“The hospital wants their wheelchair back.” He hopped out of his truck and began wheeling me around the side, overstepping my puke. “We’ve been on our own our whole lives, Dylan. Trust me, bro, if I had to rely on others, I’d have a hard time too. If I had to rely on someone like me, I’d be even more pissed. We’ve been pulling ourselves up forever. We didn’t have a choice. This time, you still don’t have a choice. Yes, I’m with Harley. Yes, I know you don’t approve. But I’m still the only son of a bitch you’ve got. So get your douchebag ass inside of my truck so I can take you home.”

I stared up at the daunting height it would take to get inside of his truck.

“Get up on your left leg,” he instructed.

“Don’t touch me!” I didn’t need his damn help. I gritted my teeth and pushed to standing. I grabbed his truck door and balanced on my left leg. Falling forward, I braced myself against his seat and took a deep breath. “Where is she?” I huffed, squeezing my eyes shut as I regained my breath.

He looked away. “Nena’s having a movie night. Frozen, I think. Aubrey’s excited.”

Inside I broke.

Harley was spending the night with my kid? That cheating
thing
was with my kid? I grabbed the bar on the roof and pulled up with all my strength, just managing to get my ass on the seat. My breaths were too deep, my stomach turned once more; I needed a drink.

The honking increased and Bach snapped, giving the people behind us the finger. “Can I help you? I’m helping you.” He gently grabbed the ankle on my right leg and moved it inside so my foot rested on the floor of his truck.

In this position, the weight of my upper half seemed to put more pressure on my right leg. I kept my left bent, using my heel to push up and take some of the weight. From the front window, I watched Bach push the wheelchair over to the security stand, and then he jogged back and got into his truck. Putting it in gear, he peeled away, jaw set and anger palpable.

Like I gave a damn how Bach felt.

“You have a kid. You have to give a shit about yourself. You can’t keep pushing everyone away. That’s why Whitney doesn’t want you around Aubrey. What kind of example are you right now?”

Rage, searing and sudden, flashed over me. It settled in my heart, in my bones, turning me into a body corded with it. I had this intense desire to punch him. To ram my fist into his temple over and over again. I was so … I couldn’t breathe … my eyes were blurry. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Without opening them, I spoke, my voice gruff with fury. “The next time you throw my daughter in my face will be the last time, do you hear me?”

“Dylan,” his voice whipped out. “She’s the only one who matters right now. Not you, not Harley, not anyone but her.”

I let myself go and hit my head against the window as he got on the freeway. “I need a drink.”

The silence in the car magnified. It was louder than our quietness. His anger, my anger—the two emotions were seconds away from colliding.

“Is there beer at the beach house?”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t drink anymore.”

“
You
don’t drink anymore? You?” Bach and I used to drink until the blackness was more real than the light. We drank our pasts into oblivion. When I realized why he no longer drank, however, I immediately understood his choice. “Why get drunk when you can be sober with Harley, right?”

His jaw set.

“Being around her kind of made me high.”

His hands gripped the steering wheel.

“Watching her face while I ate her pussy was better than any pill.”

A threatening growl emanated from his chest.

“I get hard just thinking of the look in her eyes as I made her come.”

The tires screeched, jolting me. I went flying into the dashboard. My head cracked off the windshield, and my right leg bent in a way that made me scream out. My senses were overloaded with the pain. My back went flying into the seat and my neck whiplashed.

“Should’ve worn your seatbelt, bro.” He continued smoothly back on the freeway.

I couldn’t help it. A sob tore through my throat. Pain, sharp and bone-deep, radiated from my leg. “I fucked her first.”

“You want me to break your other leg?”

“She was mine!” I shouted, body shaking from the rage, from the hurt, from the everything I was feeling.

“She’s gone, Dylan. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be.”

I pulled the visor down to examine my forehead. There was a cut on my hairline. I wiped the blood off, catching sight of my eyes. They were rimmed in red. There were dark shadows beneath them, and my cheeks were sunken in. I moved the mirror back to get a complete look at my face. My lips were chapped, and sweat dripped down my temples. I looked nothing like myself. Gone was the man I’d been, and in its place was this pathetic son of a bitch. I slammed the mirror down.

“I want my daughter.” I wanted someone who loved me. Aubrey was my girl. I hadn’t been a huge part of her life since Whitney lived in California with her aunt and then I went to war. Facetime was our only form of communication, and it was hard to get a kid to stay still. But even then, there’d been a smile on my kid’s face every time she saw me. A light in her dark blue eyes that lightened the darkness inside of me. “I want Aubrey.” I hung my head and sobbed. Loud, backbreaking wails. My chest opened up, and I gave into the darkness wrapped around my heart. “I want my baby.”

Bach reached over and turned the radio on.

***

Hillary

I looked cheap.

My blond hair had been straightened, black eyeliner and pink gloss shadowed my eyes and lips, and Emery and Jasmine had outdone themselves with this outfit. My skirt was so short when I moved too quickly my bottom poked out. My shirt, skintight and red, was cut so low my attempt at having cleavage was fully on display. My midriff was exposed as well, showing off my belly button and lower back. To make matters worse, Piper was begging to paint my nails red, and Emery was picking out shoes from my closet.

My desire to protect my friend was turning into a nightmare. “There’s no way I’m leaving the house like this. My mom would kill me if she knew I’d even thought about it, let alone did it.”

All three girls, all dressed equally in short revealing clothing, glared at me. I didn’t normally take time to worry about what girls like Emery and Jasmine thought. We didn’t run in the same circle. We were from the other side of the railroad tracks, but the similarities stopped there. But for some reason having three pairs of eyes all looking at me like I was a prude, like I was somehow less because I didn’t think I was less to begin with, made my stomach fall.

I hung my head and reminded myself I was doing this for Piper. Once this night was over, we could do something I wanted. I hatched plans for the biggest wallpaper con known to man. Tea bags would hang from the ceiling, and we would welcome every cat lady within a fifty-mile radius. “Where exactly are we going?”

“This guy named Jona,” Jasmine answered, doing her makeup on my bed. Her hair hung down her back in dark waves. She dabbed red lipstick on her full lips. “He lives on frat house alley. He’s so hot and promised we could get in. You’ll love it, I promise.”

I doubted it.

Piper was watching me carefully. Why did it feel like I was suddenly a lamb in room full of wolves? Piper and I used to be lambs together. Now I sensed she’d rip me in half if I embarrassed her in front of her friends. I had half a mind to tell her to leave.
Take your wolves and go bite someone else
. But we’d been friends forever. She understood what it was like suffocating under the rules.

“Hot,” I mumbled, trying to pull my skirt down.

Emery, a dirty blond with a figure I’d swore graced the cover on a magazine, came over with my only pair of heels. They were black, and I’d gotten then on sale at the Shoe Barn for my graduation. “This will have to do,” she said, shoving them at me. “Put these on and then we’ll go.”

“Do we have the money to get in?” Jasmine asked as she put the final touches on her makeup.

Piper bent over to rub lotion on her legs, showing me her skirt was also too short. She was wearing a thong. Her pale bottom was bare for me to see, and that meant others as well, which unfortunately I suspected was her goal. I was wearing the smallest pair of underwear I owned. They were cute and comfortable bikini styled, with rainbow stripes on the white cotton. All three girls had done their best to change my mind, but I’d stood my ground. No one was even looking at my underwear tonight. How they looked didn’t matter.

“I’ve got mine,” Piper assured her. “And Hill has hers.”

“Em?” Jasmine checked.

Emery looked down to pick a piece of lint from her skin tight jeans that did not exist. “I already covered my charge.”

A knowing smile spread across Jasmine’s face. A beautiful wolf with razor sharp teeth and a desire for flesh. “You bad girl. How was it?”