The Sinister Silhouette

“I’m so tired,” she mumbles. “I just want to sleep for a little while.”

Her body goes lax in my arms and fear slams through my system. I jolt her and silently curse when she whimpers in pain. I hear sirens in the background and thank God help is almost here.

Unexpectedly, Jules’s eyes pop open and the amber orbs stare at me.

Her voice is low when she murmurs, “There’s something I need to tell you.” I have to bend my head closer to hear her slurred words. “Theo isn’t… we’re not… married.” I frown and look down at her. Her eyes are barely open. “We… we’re married.”

Her eyes flutter closed again after that, leaving my world turned upside down, inside out, and suddenly very fucking confused.

Seconds later, it’s like her words break a dam loose, and I’m flooded with memory after memory.

The first time I laid eyes on her. It happened just as it did in my dream.

My uncontrollable need to know what she tasted like and her breathy moan when I kissed her in the hallway of Ink Me.

Talking on the phone to her at night and spending our days together as much as we could.

What she felt like when she gave me her body for the first time.

My unplanned proposal in the back of Ink Me.

What I don’t remember, and know now is a fucking lie, is me forcing myself on her. Or attacking her. He was the one trying to take her from me. The day of my accident was the day Jules and I were telling my parents about us. I had put t

he deposit down on a house in Westerly, the town where Jules wanted to go to college We were going to live there until she earned her degree, then come back and live in Braedon, the neighboring town, which would have worked perfectly because Dad would want to retire from the shop by then, and I’d buy him out. Jules was at home packing while I was taking care of last-minute errands. A car swerved in my lane, and I didn’t have time to miss it.

I glance down at Jules, seeing her chest moving, still shocked at the revelation, but so goddamn ecstatic. She’s my wife. We’re fucking married. Not she and Theo, but she and I. It was me she fell in love with. It was me she had planned to spend the rest of her life with. It was she and I who talked about having babies one day. We both wanted at least three.

Jules quickly became my life, and I know I became hers. The love I felt for her, still feel for her, is dynamic, explosive, and undeniable. It was strong and fast. It smacked me in the face and left me in a blissful euphoric haze. One I wanted to stay in forever.

Fury has my temper flaring and my body turning hard. Theo fucking lied over and over again. He twisted everything and made me out to be the lunatic who put Jules in her coma. He made me believe I was the one to rape her, when I have no doubt he was the one who did. All this time I hated myself, was disgusted I was capable of such violent acts. I so easily believed it, because why in the fuck would my own brother do that to Jules and me? I know why. It was his deranged and psychotic obsession with her. It wasn’t me who went off the rails, but him.

Voices carry from the front door, pulling me from my volatile need to go back in the bedroom and finish Theo off. A moment later, a cop walks through the busted door, followed by two more and a paramedic. They immediately spot me on the couch and the paramedic rushes over. His name tag says Brantley.

“She passed out a few minutes ago,” I inform him, my worry for Jules building again. “I think she hit her head.” While the paramedic sets his bag down and starts pulling shit out, I look at the cops. “The man who did this to her is in the bedroom. Kale, a friend of mine, is making sure he stays there. His name’s Theo.”

Two of them walk down the hallway, while the third stays behind.

“Sir, I need you to put her down on the couch, please,” says Brantley.

I really don’t like the idea of relinquishing my hold on Jules, but I know it needs to be done so he can assess her. Carefully, I stand and gently lay her on the couch. Another paramedic walks up, and they both start working on her. A lump forms in my throat as I watch them. They don’t seem to be real concerned about her being unconscious as they work slowly around her. I’m not sure if it’s because of the shitty way people are taken care of on this side of town or if it’s because her condition isn’t life-threatening. For their sake, it better be the latter, because if something happens and it was because of their carelessness, I’ll beat the fuck out of them and give not one fuck for the consequences.

“Sir, I need you to come this way so I can take your statement.”

I turn to the voice and scowl. He expects me to fucking leave Jules’s side? There’s no fucking way.

“I’m not leaving her,” I say forcefully. I stalk around to the back of the couch where I can still see Jules. “We can talk here.”

It’s apparent he doesn’t like being told what to do from his narrow look, but I couldn’t give a flying fuck. Luckily, after a moment, he follows my steps until he’s beside me, his little notepad in hand.

For the next fifteen minutes, my attention is divided between watching Jules, the paramedics, and answering the cop’s questions. I tell him everything I know, including my belief that he was the one to hurt Jules seven years ago, which resulted in her coma. I also tell him about the deception and about the three other times he’s tried to force himself on Jules. I hold not one detail back. If Theo breathes, I want him charged with every single fucking crime he committed.

When the paramedics start to load Jules on the stretcher, the cop tries to stop me from following. I barely refrain from the “fuck off” I want to deliver. However, from the dark look in my eyes, he accepts my response when I tell him I’ll be in tomorrow if there is anything else they need.

My stomach is in knots as I follow behind the paramedics. Jules still isn’t awake, and I don’t fucking like it. I climb inside the back of the ambulance and take the bench seat beside the bed. A hollow feeling forms in my throat when I look down at her. She has a neck brace on with a breathing mask over her face. I grab her hand, and I feel marginally better when I feel the pulse in her wrist.

I bend down until my mouth is at her ear.

“Hold on for me, baby,” I beg with a cracked voice. “Please just fucking hold on.”