Page 4 of Beautifully Shattered (Secrets & Scars #3)

Y awning, I stretch, my whole body aching as my sore muscles instinctively send my hand to my bump to check on my little bub… only… my bump is gone.

I gasp, eyes snapping open as reality slams into me like a freight train.

Oh. My. God.

Little Bobbi… is gone.

A sob claws up my throat, pain slicing through my chest like a blade.

For the tiniest moment, just a heartbeat, when I woke, everything felt normal. I was still pregnant. Bobbi was still safe. Life was still hard, but there was hope.

That’s what my brain clung to… that fragile, cruel lie. But then, like some twisted Groundhog Day, I have to relive it. Again. The moment I remember Bobbi is gone.

She’s… dead .

I choke on my sob, my eyes flicking around the hospital room to find it empty.

I can’t do this. I can’t be here. I can’t breathe in this life. Not without Bobbi.

“My wife will arrange her own funeral for her daughter.”

Ringo’s voice floats through from the other side of the closed door, his words stopping my tears in their tracks.

Who is he talking to?

Bobbi’s… funeral…

I have to arrange Bobbi’s funeral?

“Where are the funerals taking place?” he asks, and since I can’t hear anyone else talking, I have to assume he’s on the phone.

Wait.

Funerals? As in plural?

My already shattered heart plummets to the pit of my stomach as memories come rushing in.

Ringo got called away because the new compound was under attack.

Me outside, in the rain, crying under the Jacaranda tree.

Lightning.

Men running over the ridge.

Screams.

Gunshots.

Yelling.

Jols…

“I’ll be there. Just text me the time.” Ringo grunts, his voice clipped and sharp, like he’s a second away from losing it .

But of course, he’s pissed. He’s stuck here, dealing with me, while people are dead.

Stoner… Tucker…

“If she’s well enough. I’m sure Abbey would want to go. She built close ties with a few of them.”

No…

No!

Jols!

Shit, no. Not Jols, too. Please, not Jols.

“Shit, Smitty. I’ve gotta go. I’ve got company.”

My heart thrashes wildly in my chest. Images of Jols getting shot slamming into me.

Her body hitting the wall. Sliding down. Leaving a trail of blood.

God, why ? Why would you do this?

How could I be so selfish, caught up in my own pain when Ringo has lost people too?

What about Mule? And Brody?

Oh my god. Poor JD. Is he now mourning the loss of his little brother? Of Jols?

Who else died? What the hell happened at the compound? It was under attack. That’s why Ringo left.

“Guys, now’s not the best time,” Ringo growls, his voice edged with fury.

“Just because you married her, doesn’t mean you can shut us out.”

Jared?

“Has she been able to eat yet?”

Lexi. I’d know her voice anywhere.

My friends are here.

“Step aside, arsehole.”

Shit. Marcus.

The door swings open, and I swipe at my wet cheeks as my friends stroll in, most of them glaring at Ringo as they pass him, still standing out in the hall.

“There she is.” Simon’s smile is forced as he steps in, shouldering past everyone to get to me before sinking onto the edge of my bed. “Can I please hug you?”

My lip wobbles as I nod, drawn to the way his hazel eyes shimmer with worry.

He wraps his arms around me without another word, and I fight to keep myself from falling apart.

I should let it all out. Every scream. Every sob… but I don’t. Something in me is refusing to crack in front of my friends.

For some reason, I want to be alone in my grief.

When Simon pulls back, releasing me, my gaze shifts, drawn like a magnet to Ringo as he finally steps inside.

Now with so many people in here, the room feels like it’s closing in.

Ringo’s dark eyes lock with mine, and he mouths ‘ sorry ’, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, keeping his distance as my friends draw closer.

I want to tell them to back off. Their nearness is suffocating, making me too anxious, and dread still sits heavy in my gut at the guilt of knowing people died… because of me.

“Is there anything we can do, Abs?” Lexi asks, rounding the other side of the bed, taking the seat there.

I shake my head, parting my lips, but nothing comes out. I don’t have anything to say to her right now. Only to Ringo .

Darting my eyes back to him, I clear my throat in the hopes my voice actually works when I try to speak.

“Who are the funerals for?”

Ringo’s brows hitch. “You heard my phone call?”

I nod. “Some of it. Who died?”

His lips press into a thin line, his gaze flicking to my friends before landing back on me.

“We’ll talk about it later, Angel. Your friends are here to see you.”

He’s deflecting. Holding something back.

Something he doesn’t want to tell me.

My heart kicks up again, beating hard like it’s trying to escape, but it’s trapped, and it starts struggling.

My hands fist the sheets as my lungs seize, suddenly refusing to pull air in.

“Hey, are you okay, Abs?” Marcus asks from behind Simon, his voice tight with concern.

I can’t answer. I just shake my head, my eyes locked on the stark white sheets spread over my lap.

“Abbey. What can we do?” Lexi asks, and I catch movement from the corner of my eye as she stands, moving closer.

This is too much. Too many people. Too many deaths. Too much pain.

It’s unbearable.

Suddenly, Simon gets shoved off the bed, and Ringo is there, his big palms framing my face as he forces me to look at him.

“Angel. Listen to my voice, okay?”

I try to nod, but his grip makes it near impossible to move.

“Think of the last place you felt safe. Where was that? ”

My lips part, the words sticking, yet somehow, I force them out.

“Your home.”

He nods, his whiskey eyes locked on mine. “Good. Think about that. Picture it. What do you see?”

When I think of his place, one room lights up in my mind like a flare.

“Your room,” I whisper.

“Good. Stay there. What do you see in it?”

“Your guitars,” I breathe, the tight coil in my chest easing slightly. “The window that overlooks the barn and pond. The couch…” I trail off, not wanting to admit what comes to mind when I think of his couch. What we did on it.

But a small smile tugs at Ringo’s lips, like he knows exactly what memory crashed into me.

“When you feel panicked, think of that place.” His thumb grazes over my lips, and for a moment, I forget we’re not alone. “Or any place that makes you feel at ease.”

I nod slowly, my eyes locked with his, sinking into them like they are the only thing keeping me afloat.

Slowly, his hands fall away, and I immediately feel their absence, leaving me cold and alone once again.

“I just…” I start, heat pricking the backs of my eyes as I remember what had me spiralling briefly. “I just need to know who died.”

He nods. “Soon, Angel. I have to take care of something. I’ll be back in fifteen.” His gaze shifts to Lexi. “Stay with her until I come back.” Then he glances around the room. “All of you.”

Everyone nods, and his eyes fall back to mine as he lifts my hand and presses his lips to it .

“I’ll be right back.”

I nod, even though I don’t want him to go, and I watch him stand, hurrying from the room.

I’m more than curious what is so urgent that he has to rush off, but then, the reason why I’m here in this hospital bed hits me again, and I just want to shatter.

Bobbi.

My friends talk to me about what? I can’t tell. Their words drift around me like static, their worried gazes flicking to me, but their voices… well, it’s all just white noise right now, because all I can hear is the blood in my veins, thundering like a stampede of elephants.

They ask me questions, but I can’t even summon the energy to listen, let alone answer.

I know they mean well, but I just want them to leave. I want everyone to just go away and leave me alone.

I don’t want to be here.

It would be better for everyone if I just go.

The amount of suffering I’ve dragged into their lives, either directly or indirectly, is why I can’t stay.

They’d be better off without me. Then they can finally breathe.

Live a life free of worry. Free of the rapists hunting me.

No more crooked cops to worry about raiding them or kidnapping anyone.

No more Southern Sadists risking their lives for someone who’s not even worthy of their protection.

“Hey, Abs.” Lexi’s voice pierces through the armour quickly moulding around me, her touch gentle as she gives my shoulder a squeeze.

I blink at her, the sound of the room rushing back in, which is when I notice there’s only Lexi, Jared and Marcus left in here with me.

My oldest friends.

“Sorry for bringing everyone. They were worried, and I thought seeing them might perk you up a bit, but I can see now it was too much.”

I nod. “Yeah… I’m not good company right now.”

“We don’t have to talk, Abs. We just want to be here for you.” Marcus lowers himself to the end of the bed, his eyes meeting mine.

There’s no pressure in them. No judgment. Just… love.

But I can’t take it.

“I think… all I need right now is to be alone.”

Marcus flinches at my admission, but he shakes it off a moment later.

My voice is flat and clipped. There’s bitterness lacing my tone, yet I can’t find it in me to check myself.

I’m nothing but toxic energy after all.

Bad things happen to good people when they are around me. Maybe it really would be better if they just leave.

If Jols hadn’t been babysitting me at Ringo’s house, she’d still be here. Alive.

Stoner too.

Shit. Even Millie got shot.

Did she survive?

The door creaks open, and everyone’s heads snap towards it as Ringo pops his head in.

“I need everyone to leave. We need to speak with Abbey.”

Shit.

This is it.

He’s going to tell me what protecting me has cost his club. Cost him .

How can he even stand to look at me?

I half expect my friends to argue, but they don’t. They just nod and exit, Lexi pressing a kiss to my forehead before retreating, too.

Well… I wanted them to go. And now they have.

So why do I want to scream for them to come back?

Because you’re not strong enough to hear the truth fall from Ringo’s lips.