Shattered by You (Tear Asunder 3)

She wasn’t with him?

I stopped, my heart pounding. I was facing the stairs, away from them when he came up behind me and rested his hands on my hips. I didn’t have to look. I knew his touch, I knew his smell, and I wanted more.

“The chicks leave if you’re uncomfortable with them here. Kite can go jerk off,” Crisis’ graveled voice whispered next to my ear. “Neither girl is with me, okay? I wouldn’t do that. I’d never do that.”

I did know that. He may have backed off, but he wasn’t leaving me. He’d always be there for me. And I wanted to be there for him.

“You want to join us, Haven? Maybe then Crisis will, too, and I excel at licking pussy,” Lena said. I heard the click of her heels as she jumped off the counter onto the marble floor. “I’m down for a little girl-on-girl-on-girl. Right, Lily? Didn’t you say you liked girls?”

I flinched.

“Maybe Kite can tie us all up and fuck us one by one. Or is she the reason you won’t touch me or Lily, Crisis? You get this one pregnant or something? Is that why she lives with you? You knock her up?”

“Shut the fuck up, Lena,” Crisis threw over his shoulder.

“Well, she’s not fat yet. So, I’m still game. Just met Lily last night, too, but she told me she wanted to come here and fuck you both.”

“Lena. Stop,” Kite ordered.

Maybe it was her mentioning me being pregnant that was the trigger. Maybe it was her voice. Maybe it was the fact that I was feeling vulnerable after contemplating all night what I was going to share with Crisis. It didn’t matter what caused it, but I knew it was going to hit me before it did.

The coldness sunk into me. It was like I stepped from the center of the tornado and into the churning winds, its monstrous arms taking hold of me and squeezing so hard that I couldn’t breathe.

“Haven?” Crisis pulled me around to face him. “What’s wrong? Why are you shaking? Fuck, Haven?”

The image I’d buried surfaced like the tornado unearthed it.

I was lying on the bed, Alexa holding my shoulders down as I screamed and screamed. The pain excruciating as my body tore apart from hours of pushing. Olaf stood to the side, his hand on my bent knee, the doctor with his hands between my legs.

Hours of pain. Sweat dripped down my face, my hair plastered to my cheeks. And then . . .

It stopped. The pain stopped and a new pain began. One so crushing that I knew I’d never repair from it.

The silence. No wail of my baby’s first breath.

Charlie.

My baby.

One I’d cradled inside me for six months. I wanted to hold him, see him. But I never saw his face. I never held him.

The doctor passed him to Olaf who looked at me briefly as he held him.

Then I begged.

I’d never begged. I fought. I screamed. But I never once begged until now.

I knew he was dead, but I just wanted once to hold him in my arms.

My cries were ignored as Olaf turned away with my baby.

The memory imploded.

I imploded as the pain of losing Charlie broke through the ice and shattered me.

I crashed.

“Get away. Get away from me.” I shoved Crisis hard in the chest and he hit the wall with a loud bang.

My knees shook so violently I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it to my room, but I ran anyway. My mind screamed as my body careened down into an abyss that I feared I’d never crawl out of again.

This was why I blocked it all out. This. This. This.

Everything in me roared and trembled, and threatened to give way. I was at the top of a tower and free falling, and any minute, I’d land and collapse, and never get up again.

I made it up two stairs before an arm snagged me around the waist and I was picked up off my feet. “Haven.” Whose voice was that? Olaf? He was dead, though.

I had to reach Charlie. “Haven, baby. Breathe.” I kicked my legs, frantic to get away.

“No. No. No.”

“Damn, what a crazy bitch.” It was a girl’s voice, but I was having trouble deciphering where I was and who was with me as reality and my past clashed together.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Crisis. That was Crisis and he was next to me. “Now. Out. Kite, man, get them out of here.”

The arm tightened around my waist and I screamed wildly. My vision was blinded by tears and all I pictured was Alexa and the white coat of the doctor.

“No. Please. Let me hold him once.” It was Olaf holding me down now, preventing me from escape as I screamed so loud my voice broke. “It’s all my fault.” Charlie was dead because of me.

“Jesus. Crisis, take her to my room. It’s sound-proof at least.”

Kite? Was it Kite talking? Sound-proofed? Were they locking me away? Was Alexa going to lock me up again? Would she put me in the cage?

I felt movement as I was carried up the stairs. All I saw was what my mind was telling me. Olaf, Charlie, Alexa and the doctor.

I screamed. “Noooo, I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m sorry.” It was my fault he was dead. I killed him.

The images surfaced again like pellets shooting into me over and over again. “Nooooo.”

“Baby. Please. Jesus. Calm down.”

I knew it was Crisis’ voice and yet I couldn’t stop what was happening. I’d held everything in for so long that now that it leaked out of me, I had no control. I was in the tornado going around and around without an end. Spinning out of control.

I felt something soft beneath me. The bed. The bed. “Nooooo.” It was months too early. I couldn’t have him now. But the pain . . . it wouldn’t stop.

I screamed over and over again as I was held down on the bed. I sobbed, my breath choked by the tears as they relentlessly fell for the first time since that night I lost my baby.