Page 90
Story: Unbroken
Heat warmed her throat and pain throbbed from her belly. Tears rushed to her eyes. “Sometimes I still feel her,” she choked out. “Moving inside me. And for a moment I forget what happened. I think she’s still there.” A sob broke from her lips. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand. She’d never told anyone that, but somehow telling Jace brought a sliver of closure.
“You know I didn’t want to hurt her. God, if I hadn’t been so fucked up. If I hadn’t touched those fucking drugs.”
Tears flowed freely down her face. She didn’t dash them away, didn’t want to do anything to tamp down the love her daughter deserved to feel.
Silence fell between them. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t hate him. Couldn’t pretend to forgive him for the grave mistake that had taken something so precious from her arms.
Jace sniffed, and the bubble of quiet burst. He turned away from the window. “She’s gone now. I can’t bring her back. I know I’m the one who pushed you, but there was a bigger man in the picture. The one who gave me the drugs. He didn’t give a shit if I got hooked on ’em. He knew I was weak.”
He fisted his hands as he moved toward her. “I’m not now. And Danny’s going to pay for what he took from me. He’ll see what it’s like to lose a daughter.”
Savannah’s heart skidded to a stop and restarted at a ferocious rhythm. “You can’t be serious. It’s not the same thing and you know it. He’ll never see the hand he had in her death.” She scooted until her back touched the hearth.
“I’ve got nothing, Savvy. Nothing, for fuck’s sake.” He spread his arms wide to the sides. “All I wanted was a life with you and her.” Strain creased his forehead and sadness ringed his eyes. He reached behind him and pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants. “I’ll come with you,” he choked. “You and me. We’ll find her together after this.”
Her heart plummeted into her belly and then shot up to her throat. A murder-suicide.
Oh god.
“Jace, no,” she sobbed. “You don’t want to do this. You need help.”
A laugh pealed from his throat and he tilted his head. “Help? There’s no help for me. No help for you either. We’re both suffering. Why fight it?”
“Because I want to live.” She gripped the brick fireplace at her hip. The poker was behind her. All she had to do was turn and reach for it. “Shewanted to live, and you took that from her. Don’t take it from me, too.”
A pained expression crossed his face but was quickly replaced with one of anger. “She’ll forgive me when we’re all together.” The finality in his voice shook her.
Savannah turned and yanked the poker from the fireplace. Jace let out a curse.
Crack!
A bullet smacked into the fireplace. Savannah cried out and ducked. Shards of brick exploded.
He was on her in two paces, grabbing her bicep as he lifted the gun again. She brought back her arm and slammed the wrought-iron hook into the side of his head.
Jace let go of her and stumbled. “Ah, sonofabitch,” he hissed.
His caught the fireplace with his hand and stayed on his feet. Blood leaked from the laceration across his scalp. Savannah sucked in a breath and brought the weapon down again, this time on his back, sending him to his knees.
Harsh breaths came in and out between her clenched teeth. Her body trembled with sharp spasms. Instinct told her to run. To get to a phone. But he wouldn’t just go away. She needed to kill him. To finish this before he came back for her again.
He groaned.
She lifted the poker again. Another strike to the head would kill him. It shouldn’t be so hard. But goddammit she wanted him to suffer like her baby girl had.
His hand shot out and latched on to her leg, dragging her to him. He swung the gun to face her. Panic lit her veins. She slashed the iron down again but missed and struck his arm. His wrist connected with the fireplace and the weapon fell from his grasp.
She reached for it but he grabbed her, pulling her down to the floor and straddling her waist. His blood dripped onto her face and clothes. Bile hit the back of her throat.
“No!” she cried.
His hand came down roughly on her face, crushing her lips. He grunted on top of her, sweat pooling off his face, his skin red from exertion and pain. “You’re going to pay for that.” He moved his hand from her mouth to clamp around her throat. His weight bore down on her windpipe.
The muscles in her throat ached and burned beneath the pressure. She kicked and squirmed, her knees connecting with his lower back. He didn’t loosen his grip. A ragged gasp left her lips.
A black vignette ringed her vision, closing in tighter and tighter, like she were looking through a straw.
She clung to consciousness with the skin of her teeth.
“You know I didn’t want to hurt her. God, if I hadn’t been so fucked up. If I hadn’t touched those fucking drugs.”
Tears flowed freely down her face. She didn’t dash them away, didn’t want to do anything to tamp down the love her daughter deserved to feel.
Silence fell between them. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t hate him. Couldn’t pretend to forgive him for the grave mistake that had taken something so precious from her arms.
Jace sniffed, and the bubble of quiet burst. He turned away from the window. “She’s gone now. I can’t bring her back. I know I’m the one who pushed you, but there was a bigger man in the picture. The one who gave me the drugs. He didn’t give a shit if I got hooked on ’em. He knew I was weak.”
He fisted his hands as he moved toward her. “I’m not now. And Danny’s going to pay for what he took from me. He’ll see what it’s like to lose a daughter.”
Savannah’s heart skidded to a stop and restarted at a ferocious rhythm. “You can’t be serious. It’s not the same thing and you know it. He’ll never see the hand he had in her death.” She scooted until her back touched the hearth.
“I’ve got nothing, Savvy. Nothing, for fuck’s sake.” He spread his arms wide to the sides. “All I wanted was a life with you and her.” Strain creased his forehead and sadness ringed his eyes. He reached behind him and pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants. “I’ll come with you,” he choked. “You and me. We’ll find her together after this.”
Her heart plummeted into her belly and then shot up to her throat. A murder-suicide.
Oh god.
“Jace, no,” she sobbed. “You don’t want to do this. You need help.”
A laugh pealed from his throat and he tilted his head. “Help? There’s no help for me. No help for you either. We’re both suffering. Why fight it?”
“Because I want to live.” She gripped the brick fireplace at her hip. The poker was behind her. All she had to do was turn and reach for it. “Shewanted to live, and you took that from her. Don’t take it from me, too.”
A pained expression crossed his face but was quickly replaced with one of anger. “She’ll forgive me when we’re all together.” The finality in his voice shook her.
Savannah turned and yanked the poker from the fireplace. Jace let out a curse.
Crack!
A bullet smacked into the fireplace. Savannah cried out and ducked. Shards of brick exploded.
He was on her in two paces, grabbing her bicep as he lifted the gun again. She brought back her arm and slammed the wrought-iron hook into the side of his head.
Jace let go of her and stumbled. “Ah, sonofabitch,” he hissed.
His caught the fireplace with his hand and stayed on his feet. Blood leaked from the laceration across his scalp. Savannah sucked in a breath and brought the weapon down again, this time on his back, sending him to his knees.
Harsh breaths came in and out between her clenched teeth. Her body trembled with sharp spasms. Instinct told her to run. To get to a phone. But he wouldn’t just go away. She needed to kill him. To finish this before he came back for her again.
He groaned.
She lifted the poker again. Another strike to the head would kill him. It shouldn’t be so hard. But goddammit she wanted him to suffer like her baby girl had.
His hand shot out and latched on to her leg, dragging her to him. He swung the gun to face her. Panic lit her veins. She slashed the iron down again but missed and struck his arm. His wrist connected with the fireplace and the weapon fell from his grasp.
She reached for it but he grabbed her, pulling her down to the floor and straddling her waist. His blood dripped onto her face and clothes. Bile hit the back of her throat.
“No!” she cried.
His hand came down roughly on her face, crushing her lips. He grunted on top of her, sweat pooling off his face, his skin red from exertion and pain. “You’re going to pay for that.” He moved his hand from her mouth to clamp around her throat. His weight bore down on her windpipe.
The muscles in her throat ached and burned beneath the pressure. She kicked and squirmed, her knees connecting with his lower back. He didn’t loosen his grip. A ragged gasp left her lips.
A black vignette ringed her vision, closing in tighter and tighter, like she were looking through a straw.
She clung to consciousness with the skin of her teeth.
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