A Shattered Moment (Fractured Lives 1)

twenty-six

Bentley

I checked the clock for about the twentieth time since arriving at work that morning. Not one call had come in for us to handle. I was bored out of my mind. I would have texted Mac, but she was spending the day with her mom. It probably wouldn’t be cool to interrupt that. She was home for winter break, so we’d been commuting back and forth the past couple weeks to see each other.

I went home myself for a few days to celebrate Christmas, but Allie still hadn’t forgiven me for busting her phone. She basically took the fun out of the visit. Seeing the impact her behavior was having on Mom and Dad, I couldn’t help regretting my hasty actions at the restaurant that day. I lost my head and now Allie was making everyone in the family pay for it. It wasn’t like they could throw her out. Regardless of what Allie believed, she was still a fifteen-year-old kid. I tried to put myself in her sho

es to give her the benefit of the doubt, but half the time I wanted to throttle her for what she was doing. The entire family was walking on eggshells wondering what she would do next.

Ironically, it was Mac who was the most sympathetic toward Allie, claiming the two of them weren’t all that different. In spite of my argument, she disagreed, saying she understood the shell Allie seemed to keep herself in. Hearing Mac talk was a glaring indication of how far she’d come in the last few months that we’d been together. It was hard to remember what she had been like that first day in the library.

In the weeks that followed, Mac was forced to spend more time than she wanted dealing with the court case surrounding her accident. Things had become tense, and I could tell how much it bothered her. Mac wanted nothing more than to put the whole thing behind her. The situation made me feel powerless. I couldn’t believe how much the trucking company and, worse yet, the insurance companies had dragged this out. Mac never openly complained, but how were people supposed to move on?

Before winter break, Mac was beginning to spend more nights with me than at her dorm. I’d gotten used to having her over, and now it felt weird that she wasn’t there. I tried to talk her into staying with me the entire break since Chad and Michael had headed home for Christmas, but she claimed her parents would flip out if she did that. Not that I bought that excuse. I mean, we were both adults. What more could I do? I’d be a dick if I pressed the issue, especially considering everything else she had going on.

The answer was nothing except sit and watch the clock count down the hours until my shift was over. We’d made plans for her to come over and spend the night on Wednesday since it was New Year’s Eve, and we wanted to make the most of our night.

All I had to do was get through this slow-ass shift. Not to play devil’s advocate, but I found myself wishing a call would come in so at least we’d have something to do. It was sadistic as hell. I knew that, but after a dozen hands of Go Fish with Steve, I was ready to jump in front of a moving bus myself so there would at least be a trauma to take care of.

Steve had just dealt another hand of cards when a call finally came in. We both jumped like a couple of rookies on day one. Grabbing our gear, we headed for our waiting rig. We got sketchy details over the radio as we drove. The bottom line of the situation was a three-car pileup on I-4 with multiple traumas. Steve flipped on the sirens while I navigated the best route to get to the accident. We worked well together and both knew our jobs. Judging by the numerous calls coming over the radio, we weren’t the only ambulance en route.

Traffic was at a standstill on I-4. We were three miles away from the accident scene, and the normal busy highway was like a parking lot. Steve figured out right away the siren and lights weren’t getting us anywhere, so he jerked the wheel, maneuvering the ambulance to the grassy shoulder. I braced my hands on the dashboard as we bounced along the thin strip of grass on the side of the highway. We were only going twenty-five miles an hour at best, but since all the cars we passed weren’t moving, it gave the illusion that we were moving much faster. Motorists were standing by their cars, rubbernecking to try and get a glimpse at the accident up ahead. Some had even climbed atop their vehicles. People’s fascination with gruesome scenes never ceased to amaze me.

“Son of a bitch,” Steve swore when we spotted the accident as we approached. I had to agree. It had been more than a year since I’d seen that kind of pileup. Three cars had been involved, but it was the minivan that suffered the most devastation. I braced myself for the worst possible scenario. Minivans had the potential to hold kids, which meant we could be walking into something exceptionally bad.

Steve and I jumped from the emergency vehicle, ready to do what we were trained for. We heard wailing and screaming coming from one of the cars, which I noticed upon approach was crushed in on one side. A few people sat on the grass, bleeding from different wounds, while still more remained trapped in their vehicles. The scene was overwhelming and became louder with each passing second as fire trucks and highway patrol cars rolled on to the scene. It reminded me of Mac’s accident, which now seemed so long ago. That time only three had survived. Looking at the mangled carnage in front of me, we would be lucky to save even that many.

twenty-seven

Mac

I drummed my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. I was a patient, careful driver, but even I hated catching every single damn traffic light like I’d done since leaving home. I was ready to scream. Someone at the traffic control office had to be deliberately screwing with me. It was eleven at night on a Tuesday with virtually no traffic, but every red light wanted to stop me. If I didn’t know any better, I would have blamed Mom, who was less than thrilled that I’d decided to head to Bentley’s tonight rather than tomorrow like originally planned. After an endless day of bickering over the case, I’d stopped caring what she thought by midafternoon. Even Dad had gotten sick of trying to referee our exchanges and spent the majority of the day hiding out in the garage. Finally, after a tense dinner, I decided we all needed a break from one another.

I started to second-guess my spur-of-the-moment decision as I waited at yet another red light less than a mile from Bentley’s apartment. He had given me a key a couple weeks ago and told me to use it anytime. Surprising him by being at his apartment when he got off work had seemed like a romantic idea, especially since Chad and Michael would be back on campus soon, ruining this type of moment again, but now that I was almost there, I worried that I was cramping Bentley’s style. He wouldn’t be home for several more hours, and for all I knew, he would come home completely exhausted and wouldn’t want to do anything but crash.

Pulling into the parking lot, I sat in the car debating my decision. Looking at the staircase, I felt a jumble of nerves in my stomach. For some reason, once he’d declared his feelings, I felt I had to maintain a certain amount of independence. Not because I didn’t care for him, but I wasn’t ready to act like we were living together yet. I’d hoped to get there, but I wasn’t going to force it.

Climbing from the car before I lost my nerve, I headed for the stairs, leaving my overnight bag behind until Bentley got home. I may want my independence, but I knew my limitations.

The stairs were as daunting as they always were. I was breathing heavily by the time I made it to the top, but the familiar feeling of pride and adrenaline from my accomplishment propelled me down the walkway to his apartment.

As soon as I opened the door, I knew I’d made the right decision. It had been a couple days since I’d seen Bentley, and I missed him. Maybe that was saying something. Was it love? For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to admit that. I’d been ignoring the taunting voice in my head that reminded me Bentley was always on my mind. In the short amount of time we’d been together, he had somehow been able to fill the void inside me. If that was the truth, then why was I trying so hard to deny my true feelings for him?

Regardless of my scrambled brain, I set to work out my whole seduction plan, which involved lighting the few candles Bentley had scattered around that I knew were completely for my benefit. I had teased Chad one day about the holes in his socks when his feet were propped up on the coffee table. I joked about whether they smelled as bad as they looked. Bentley had taken my comment seriously and forced Chad to go take a shower and change his clothes. I felt somewhat bad for making him go to that trouble on my account. I noticed the candles the next time I came over. At least now they would serve my purposes well.

After the candles were lit, I straightened up the man cave a bit. It wasn’t all that bad, for the most part. Probably because Chad and Michael hadn’t returned from break yet. A week from now, this place was likely to be a disaster.

The busywork of cleaning didn’t kill nearly as much time as I thought. Before I knew it, I was left with nothing to pass the remaining hour and a half until Bentley got home. Sinking down on the couch, I picked up the remote, aimlessly flipping through the channels for something to watch. I finally stopped on some cooking reality show, wishing I had thought to stop on the way over and pick up something to eat. My stomach rumbled as I watched the cupcake challenge unfold. I could have definitely gone for a cupcake right at that moment. I could get up and scrounge for something, but based on my experiences coming here on other days, I’d have a better chance of finding Red Bull than something to eat.

My leg made the decision for me anyway with its slight throbbing, so I stayed put on the couch. I massaged my twitching muscles, realizing I’d probably done a little too much running around today. Trying to ease the ache, I shifted positions so that I was lying down with my leg propped up on the arm of the couch. I had found the right spot. Feeling relieved, I turned back to the TV to torture myself with more cupcakes I couldn’t have. My new comfortable position reminded me that I was more tired than I thought as I suddenly found myself fighting to keep my eyes open. I yawned heavily and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch after finishing a long, drawn-out stretch. I figured resting my eyes for a few minutes couldn’t hurt.

I woke to the room tilting as I was gently lifted off the couch. “Hey,” I said, looking sheepishly at Bentley. Obviously, my whole seduction scene had been an epic failure. He didn’t answer. I could tell he was upset. Maybe my initial thoughts had been correct and he did have a problem with me being here. He was probably exhausted from work and now felt he needed to take care of me. I squirmed slightly in his arms, letting him know he didn’t need to carry me to bed. His hold tightened. Not in a way that was painful, but Bentley was showing me he was in control.

He didn’t speak as we entered his darkened room, nor did he flip on the light. He lowered me to the bed, covering my body with his. In the dim light streaming in through the window, I tried to decipher what his silence meant, but his expression offered no clue. I was not used to this side of him. My hand moved to his face to smooth out the tension, but he captured it, pulling my hand to his lips, where he placed a searing kiss on my palm.

He straddled me. Bringing my hands to my side, he held them in pl

ace with his, making it impossible to touch him. The intensity of the moment made my heart thump heavily in my chest. “Are you okay?” I asked as he stared deeply at me, practically through me. Whatever this was, it wasn’t the normal Bentley. His usual smile was missing.