Page 52 of Beautifully Shattered (Secrets & Scars #3)

He claims my lips in a kiss that sends heat spreading through my entire body, and a second later, the clearing of a throat has me stiffening, my eyes snapping open.

“Whoops,” I whisper against his lips, feeling his smile curve against mine before we pull back.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to them sucking face.” Millie rolls her eyes as laughter ripples around the table.

“Is he really your husband?” Tahli asks, her eyes wide, gaze dancing from me to Ringo, and I nod, holding out my hand.

“Mum or one of those cult crazies stole my wedding ring, but we still have this.”

Tahli takes my hand, eyes tracing over Ringo’s name tattooed on my finger, then glances at his hand, seeing my name inked there too.

A small smile tugs at her lips as she glances up at Ringo, but when her gaze returns to me, pain flickers behind them.

“Where… where’s your baby?”

The words cut like a dagger, and I know she sees the flinch I can’t hide in time.

“It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to answer that,” Tahli rushes out, her eyes dropping to her lap in such a way that looks achingly familiar.

I feel like I’m looking at myself.

Conditioned.

She’s been conditioned the same way I was, and I didn’t even notice it until now.

Probably because I’m aware of it now.

“My baby…” I start, my voice cracking as I clear the lump from my throat. “She died.”

Tahli’s head snaps up, tears flooding her eyes. “No. ”

“Yes,” I whisper, taking her hand in mine. “She only lived for a few minutes, I think, but I got to hold her.” I press my hand to my chest, feeling her there still, even after all this time. “I called her Bobbi Cameron Musgrove.”

“That’s a really pretty name.” Tahli sobs, trying to stop her tears with the sleeve of her jumper, and Doreen hurries over with a box of tissues, placing it on the table in front of us.

I offer her a nod in thanks, grabbing tissues for Tahli and then myself.

“I named her Bobbi after my husband’s brother, who died a couple of years ago,” I explain, pointing to the picture on the wall. One Doreen told me all about during those weeks I was here without Ringo. “He was actually the guy who saved Lexi once.”

“He was?” Tahli asks, eyes wide, and I nod.

“Yeah. I wanted to name her after him, and I thought Bobbi was kinda cool for a girl.”

“It is.” Tahli smiles, dabbing at her tears with the tissue.

“And her middle name is Cameron. After Ringo.” I jut my finger in Ringo’s direction. “His real name is Cameron, and he’s the man who saved me.”

“I love that, Abs.” She sobs again, so I squeeze her hand. “And Musgrove?”

“That’s my married name. Ringo’s surname.”

“Oh.” Tahli sits taller. “Abigail Eloise Musgrove.”

“Yeah.” I giggle, pulling her in for a hug, but when we pull back, she cringes.

“I hope you’ve let Harry Styles know you won’t be marrying him anymore. ”

Laughter explodes around the table, and even Ringo lets out a bark of amusement as everyone remembers my wedding day. Tahli has no idea how perfectly she hit the mark.

As the afternoon fades into night, I give Tahli a tour of the house, and with Ringo’s encouragement, I take her to my room and show her where she’ll be staying for the meantime.

Ringo suggested that keeping her close for a while until she feels safe again would be best, and he agreed to crash on the couch so I could share our marital bed with my sister.

We join Doreen in the kitchen and help her cook. It’s mostly for Tahli’s sake, knowing her love for cooking will help her settle in, and after dinner, we retreat up to our room and watch a movie in Ringo’s suite before bed.

Tahli is absolutely buggered by 9pm. She takes a quick shower and snuggles into bed while I take my turn to shower.

I have to express the milk buildup, and part of me wishes I could invite Ringo in here to help, since he loves assisting me with it so much.

But I can’t exactly explain that to a twelve-year-old.

So I hand-express, and quickly finish up, returning to the room to find Ringo sitting on the end of the bed, telling Tahli about our wedding day as she holds the photo he had framed for me.

“Now I understand why everyone found my Harry Styles comment so funny before,” Tahli giggles, as I climb into the bed beside her. “Did you really walk down the aisle to One Direction?”

“Yes.” I grin, and when my eyes meet Ringo’s, he shoots me a playful wink.

“You’re crazy.” Tahli yawns, so I take the picture from her and pop it back on the bedside table .

“Crazy in love, apparently,” I tell her, and she makes a dramatic gagging sound.

“Don’t be gross, Abbey.” She shuffles down under the covers, settling onto my pillow before glancing up at Ringo. “Are you sure you don’t mind sleeping on the couch? I feel bad that I kicked you out of your bed.”

Ringo nods as he stands. “It’s totally fine. Your big sister needs you close right now. And when you’re both ready, you can pick one of the guest rooms downstairs and we’ll turn it into a Tahli paradise.”

Her smile is huge as her lids flutter closed. “I like the sound of that.”

As she curls on her side facing me, Ringo rounds the bed and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head. “Get some sleep, Angel. It’s been a big day.”

I want to protest since it’s still so early, but my body betrays me and I yawn, deciding that it’s okay to sleep now that Tahli is back.

Now I feel like I can breathe again… just a little bit.

Ringo retreats around the corner to the lounge, and I snuggle against Tahli, holding her close, and fall asleep to the quiet hum of the TV in the background, and Tahli’s gentle snores.

For a while, everything is peaceful.

There’s no one chasing me in my dreams tonight.

No blood pooling at my feet. Or cries of a baby I can hear, but can’t find.

There’s just plain nothingness. Deep and heavy, weighing me down in a restful slumber.

At some point, though, something changes .

I dream of fireworks cracking overhead. Pop, pop, pop as colour bursts through the darkness, before a loud bang jolts me awake.

I sit up with a gasp, my hand pressed over my racing heart, and I glance to the side to see Tahli sound asleep.

What the…

Pop. Pop. Pop.

My heart flips, and not in a good way.

I scurry out of bed, dashing around the corner into the lounge area, which is completely dark except for the faint glow coming from the ceiling to floor windows.

I stagger back, my heart hammering when my eyes land on the silhouette of a man standing in front of the windows, a gun hanging at his side.