Текст книги "Reveal"
Автор книги: Elle Brooks
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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
I DON’T KNOW who to look at first. I’m painfully aware that Mr. Carter is standing a mere ten feet away from me, and Daniel is here with Zane. Callum and Cole look about as confused as I feel, and the atmosphere is so volatile, I’m sure the slightest noise or movement would cause and explosion.
To test my theory, Annie breaks the silence.
“What’s going on here?” she asks gingerly. I’m floored when it’s Danny that speaks up in response. He answers her question but he’s looking at me.
“I told you I’d gotten into something, Robyn. Well, these are the guys I was trying to avoid and keep away from. His eyes travel over Zane and then jump to Carter.
I feel sick.
He looks back to me with a pained expression and my heart sinks.
“Zane, what the fuck is he talking about?” Callum grinds out through his clenched jaw.
“Well, this is awkward.” Zane laughs, but there’s no humor behind it. “Daniel here owes me money, a lot of money. And Carl,” he points over to Mr. Carter, “was supposed to make the collection for me, only Daniel did a disappearing act. Carl decided if he couldn’t retrieve my cash from Danny boy, he’d collect it from his girlfriend, which I learned as fucked-up fate would have it, was you, Robyn. I had no idea until you,” he nods at Cal, “asked me to find out who Carter was.”
Cal steps forward, his arms tensed, and I catch his wrist and wrap both my arms around his in an attempt to stop him from attacking Zane. I’m almost certain he’ll shrug out of my hold and do it anyway, but he stops. Everyone’s feet shuffle; the tension escalates and everyone is poised to attack. My pulse is thrashing in my ears as I squeeze Cal’s arms a little tighter.
“You’re the one threatening her?” he asks, although he knows the answer, we all do. I look over to Annie, whose face is contorted in horror. Her pallor almost matches the lightness of her pixie blonde hair.
“I didn’t know it was Robyn,” he says, looking over to me. He actually has the nerve to look sorry. “Carl told me Daniel’s girlfriend would pay. He never mentioned your name, or I’d have figured it out sooner. I told him to back off when it became clear. That’s when we managed to track Daniel again.”
I want to scream at him and tell him to go to hell. He’s ruined my life for the past few months, and all this time I was coming to work each day and laughing and joking with him. I thought he was my friend. I can’t process the information fast enough because Cal speaks up before I get a chance.
“How the fuck did he wind up owing you ten grand? And since when are you in the business of loaning out money?” His voice trails off at the last part of his question, and he shakes his head in disbelief.
Zane adjusts his stance.
“Tell me this has nothing to do with why the books don’t balance, Zane.”
Silence.
“You motherfucking piece of shit! You’re using the clubs money!” He yells so loudly I feel the noise rumble through my chest. I drop my hands from Cal and a part of me would like him to punch Zane right now. The room is so still it feels like every word spoken is amplified tenfold.
“You’re the one who was selling Daniel coke?” I ask in disbelief, shaking my head.
Callum’s body vibrates. I can feel his pulse hammering in his wrist against my hand hanging loosely by his. I take a hold of him again, only this time a little tighter. I look up at him and he looks murderous, his nostrils are flared and his eyes narrowed. He looks nothing like the Callum I know. I press myself against him, willing him to calm down, although I’m as far away from calm as I’ve ever been.
Daniel is still standing by Zane, but his eyes dart to Carter’s every few seconds. I’m sure he’s weighing his chances of getting past him if he decides to bolt. I look over at Cole who’s slowly been inching closer to Cal. His face looks thunderous; he looks beyond angry and more than a little intimidating. Callum and Cole aren’t small, they both stand a few inches over six feet tall and are well built. Zane’s leaner than the two of them, but not by a whole lot. Danny’s the smallest by far. I catch his eye and for a second I almost feel bad for how scared he looks.
“It’s business,” Zane answers. “I’ve been doing it for years, and you’ve never noticed before. I never stole from you; we’re friends. I’ve always maintained your accounts, and yes, I used your money to make mine, but I always put it back. Until this piece of shit.” He motions to Danny. “The greedy little fucker decided to use up all the product and then run, leaving me with a supplier to pay and no product to sell.”
Cal jolts forward toward Zane and Danny takes this opportunity to do what he does best—run. It’s not until Annie’s scream registers that we all look around to see Carter pull a gun on Daniel.
“Get back over there, you little fuck,” he growls and Daniel’s arms fly into the air in surrender. The sound of him stumbling into tables as he walks backward clumsily echoes through the room.
“I’m going! Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Put the gun down, okay, man?”
“Shut up and move back!” Carter shouts.
“Carl, lower the gun for fuck’s sake,” Zane yells, and I watch as he drops the hand holding the gun down to his side. I take a shuddering breath, realizing that I’d forgotten to breathe.
Callum moves in front of me, keeping his arm behind him and locked tight against my thighs in an attempt to keep me in place. My heart is hammering so hard against my ribs that it’s painful, and tears begin streaming down my face although I’m not making a sound. Nobody is—you could hear a pin drop.
How the hell did I get myself into this mess?
“Get out of my fucking club now, Zane, and take him with you,” Callum says, motioning toward Carter.
I look around for Annie, but she’s not where she was a moment ago. I’m silently praying to God that she’s crept out and is calling the police, not just hiding behind the bar. I’m trying to be inconspicuous as my eyes roam around looking for her. The last thing I want is to alert anyone to her departure.
“Okay fine, we’ll go,” Zane says, moving toward Carter, who looks less than pleased.
“Like fuck we will,” he growls. “This shit owes us money.” He points toward Danny. “And this one broke my nose and a rib. He’s lucky I haven’t killed him already,” he snarls over at Callum. A cold chill runs to the base of my spine; it feels like ice as I shudder and grip the back of Callum’s shirt, curling my fingers into the fabric.
“You know what?” Carter says to Callum with a sinister laugh. “I think I will shoot you. An eye for an eye and all that.” He raises the gun toward us and I hold my breath and screw my eyes shut tight,
“Oh God, please don’t shoot! Please!” I cry.
The next few seconds play out in agonizing slow motion. Cole rushes Carter in a tackle, barging his head and shoulder into his side and knocking Carter over. The gun fires so loudly my ears pop and Daniel makes to grab it from Carter while Cole attempts to wrestle him to the ground. Another shot fires, the noise ricocheting around the club. It suddenly smells as though fireworks have been let off, and Callum spins, pushing me down to the floor as Zane rushes toward us. My head hits the floor hard and my vision swims as an intense heat blossoms down my neck and across my back. The floor is cold against my clammy body and I hear growls and shouting mixed with the sounds of thwacks and scuffling. Chairs are getting knocked over and tables are toppling as the guys roll and kick furiously. Another shot fires, the sound piercing through the scuffling. Callum’s weight falls full-force on top of me, stealing my breath and pinning me to the ground. My face is smothered against the crushing weight of his chest. I kick and attempt to scream for him to get off of me, trying to move from under him and take a breath. I’m suffocating, and my attempts are useless and draining. Everything sounds muffled and another shot rings through the room, only it sounds much quieter this time as the dizziness takes over and my eyes begin to flutter.
This is it. I’m about to die.
The overwhelming weight disappears and my lungs scream as I pull in a strained breath, coughing and rolling onto my side. Cole is pulling Zane from on top of Callum, and I manage to slide from underneath both of them, struggling as I gasp and grapple, desperate to pull in more oxygen. The air tastes like a mixture of copper and smoke. I put my hands out to steady me but they slip against the slick wet floor.
My hands are red. Why are my hands red?
The metallic tang of blood registers and I scramble to my knees as Cole looks at me wide-eyed.
“Shit, Robyn?”
“It’s not mine!” I scream. “It’s not my blood! Oh my God, Callum!” He’s groaning as Cole frantically drags him up to a sitting position, shouting at him and asking if he’s okay, then patting him down looking for the source of the blood he’s covered in.
He answers, “Yeah, I’m okay,” and I collapse against him, sobbing, as he pulls me into his side. My body folds into his, my arms circling around his waist. My heart feels like it’s resting by my feet, the terror of thinking it was Cal’s blood makes me feel physically sick. I take a deep breath and look around the room before wishing I hadn’t.
“It’s all right, Tweet; you’re safe,” he tells me as my eyes fall to Carter, an unmoving heap on the ground. Zane is quiet, too, and a shiver runs across my back at the thought that maybe he’s dead. I pat Cal down, running my hands over his chest and back, wanting tangible evidence that the blood’s not his, that he’s really okay. I’m blinking away tears of relief and then realize there’s someone missing.
“Danny!” I call as I search for him, my head whipping from side to side, scanning the floor.
“I’m here!” he calls in a strained whisper from behind one of the tables, and I sigh against Cal in relief. My sobs and Callum’s shushing mingle with the sound of the sirens that filter into the room.
3 months later.
HOW YOU PERFORM in a crisis reveals a lot about your character. Cole’s first reaction was to protect his brother. There were no moments of conscious indecision; it was an instinct that propelled him into action as he watched Carl Carter raise his hand and point a gun at his brother. It’s said that blood is thicker than water, and Cole’s actions support that theory, but Callum would have been the first to tell you he had two brothers. Zane was more than just a friend, he was regarded as a member of the family too. Maybe not in blood, but in every other way that counts.
Sometimes the people we hold the closest to us, the ones we choose to bring into our lives—our friends—are the people that cross us quicker than a stranger. I know Callum’s pain because I feel the same betrayal. When the going got tough, Daniel disappeared. And when he was faced with the prospect of being in danger, he chose to protect himself. There’s nothing wrong with his actions, but for someone who was supposed to love me, he didn’t look back as he attempted to run from the club when the opportunity arose.
Carl Carter and Zane Lector were stretchered out of Reveal that day and are now awaiting trial for their actions. Cole’s connections have made certain that they’ll be tried for the maximum penalties possible. It’s nothing less than they deserve. Personally, I hope they both rot in jail for the rest of their miserable lives.
Unsurprisingly, Daniel vanished from the hospital without a trace. I guess some things never change. I’m disappointed more than upset; you can never escape your problems when you carry them within you.
And then there’s Callum. He put his life on the line without a second thought. There was no hesitation; his priority when faced with danger was me. I’ll never be able to express how much that means to me. I have no words to describe the complete safety and contentment I feel when I’m with him. He’s been my savior on more than one occasion, and when I was sure that the universe was conspiring against me, and nothing was going my way, it brought me him.
I was pushed down a path that I’d never have taken if my hand weren’t forced. And while the road has been bumpy and fraught with difficulties, I would choose that path again given the chance. Thinking back on the tarot cards that Athena read for me that night, I guess they were pretty accurate. The Death card did symbolize a goodbye to the past and new doors opening. The Two of Swords sure as hell indicated my need to make decisions and not let them escalate. The Ten of Swords dramatically revealed sudden tragedy and betrayal. Annie still maintains that anyone can interpret those cards in a way that will fit with their lives. That may be so, but the coincidence is enough to fuel my belief that Athena knew what was in store for me.
When a door closes, it forces change, and the opportunity to discover something even better. If you’re strong enough to say goodbye to your old life, fortune will reward you with a new hello. Callum and Reveal are my hello. I’m in New York City doing what I’ve always dreamed of—dancing. Only now, my dreams don’t measure up to my reality because Callum is my reality. When I turned the page on my old life, I realized that my book wasn’t finished. There’s a whole set of blank pages waiting for me to write my own fairytale.
I once owned a notebook with a Gandhi quote that read:
Our beliefs become our thoughts.
Our thoughts become our words.
Our words become our habits.
Our habits become our values.
Our values become our destiny.
My destiny has been revealed. In three months’ time I’ll become Mrs. Robyn Speight. Lucy thinks I’m crazy and maybe I am. All I know is that when Carter fired his gun, the only thought to pass through my mind was of Callum. Our story may not have had the most conventional of beginnings, but it sure isn’t lacking in love. And the reason I know this will work is that when I finally did hit rock bottom, Callum was right there with me. He was my solid foundation, the stability I needed, and together we’re building our dreams.
The End.
If you liked Reveal, why not try
Promises Hurt
Continue on for a preview of the first novel in the Promises Series.
2011, age 15
I’M SITTING IN the medical center waiting room swinging my legs back and forth while my best friend, Em, has a blood sample taken. We’re supposed to be going to some pizza place that Em wants to try out after this. She overheard Ethan Jamison talking about how he likes to eat there, so now, of course, we have to go there too. Her obsession with him is beyond me; he walks around school like he owns the place. Sure, he’s good looking, but if you ask me arrogance is not an attractive feature; neither is hooking up with a new girl every week.
The waiting room smells like bleach and I’ve already flicked through the pile of out-of-date magazines on the sideboard. You’d think that someone would change them at least a few times a year, but apparently not. These places are depressing; the faded yellow walls and drab green curtains look like they’ve seen better days. Considering that it’s a waiting room and people have to sit here for what feels like forever, the designer could have put in comfy seating, but the ancient-looking plastic seats are only marginally better than sitting on the floor.
Emily had complained to her mom that she was feeling tired all the time, so here we are, trying to figure out if she has an iron deficiency or something. I think if she’d told her mom that we stay up online every night past midnight talking, she wouldn’t have been so hasty to bring her to the doctor. I’m pretty sure it’s a Facebook addiction she’s suffering from and not a lack of iron.
“Hey, that took forever,” I say as Em and her mom, Pam, round the corner. Em’s face is set in a scowl as she holds a cotton bud to her arm. She’s pretty even when she’s in a foul mood, which by the looks of it, she is now. I’ve always wanted to look like her, with that sun-kissed skin and silky blonde hair.
“Oh my god, Blair, that nurse was brutal. I’m pretty sure she pushed that needle in way too far. I thought it was gonna pop out the other side,” Emily huffs as she takes a seat beside me.
“Emily, don’t be so dramatic!” Pam scolds as she walks over to the sideboard and collects a pile of magazines before sitting down.
I smile and nudge Em’s good arm, nodding my head in her mom’s direction. She’s leafing through a copy of Men’s Health.
“I’m sure she’s only looking at the articles,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows as Emily’s draw down in disgust.
“Mom, will you please stop perving in public?” she practically shouts across the room. I bust out laughing as Pam’s face reddens and the handful of patients sitting in the waiting area turn in their seats to look.
“Honestly you two, you’re terrible!” she says, shaking her head and placing the magazine beside her, replacing it with Good Housekeeping.
It’s forty-five minutes before Emily’s name is called to go see the doctor again. She stands and motions for me to follow, as Pam throws her plastic water cooler cup into the trashcan.
“Come on in with us, it’s horrid sitting in here,” she says, as Pam nods her head in agreement.
We are led into Dr. King’s office as two other male doctors walk in behind us and take their seats. I have a sudden feeling that this doesn’t seem normal—why are there other doctors in here? The atmosphere in the room is almost tangibly thick. The room feels stark and cold; there are no pictures except for a few framed certificates. The walls are pale gray and the sun is casting shadows through the gaps in the ugly blue blinds. I think I actually preferred the waiting area. Pam’s shoulders stiffen as she takes in the surroundings, particularly the two men who are sitting to the side. Dr. King makes her way around the desk and looks back and forth between Emily and me before continuing.
“Mrs. Wilson, Emily; perhaps I could speak with you in private?” she asks, giving Pam a look I can’t quite read.
“No, Mom, Blair can stay. I want her here,” Em says, lacing her fingers through mine and squeezing my hand ever so slightly. I can feel a small tremble and I’m officially panicking at Dr. King’s suggestion that I leave.
“Blair is practically family, she can be present if that’s okay with you,” Pam answers quietly as we all take our seats.
“Very well,” she says as she moves papers around her cluttered desk. I’m sure she’s stalling and it only ramps my nerves up further. Emily feels it too; her hand is starting to feel clammy against mine.
“We have examined Emily’s blood results,” she begins, and I can see from the corner of my eye that Pam’s holding her breath. “Emily’s white blood cell count is not what we would expect it to be for a fit and healthy fifteen-year-old girl. Her neutrophils, which potentially indicate how her immune system is functioning, are extremely low. We would expect to see them at around seven, and currently Emily’s are at point zero six.” She pauses for a second as she removes the stethoscope she has draped around her neck and places it carefully on the desk in front of her.
“Okay…what does that mean?” Pam asks in a shaky voice as she moves her arm and rests her hand on Em’s knee. Emily is steadily increasing the pressure of her grip on my hand and I’m squeezing back just as hard. There is a strange undercurrent running through the room, and I’m sure something bad is about to happen.
“Mrs. Wilson, Emily…from what we can see from the blood results, we are concluding,” she gestures to the other doctors in the room, “that Emily has Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.”
The exhale Pam lets out echoes throughout the deathly silent room. I’m sitting frozen in fear at the words I’ve just heard spoken. My face starts to heat up and my eyes prickle as I feel the tears begin.
“Leukemia, as in cancer, Mom? Is that what they’re saying? They think I have cancer?” The words come out in a rush and are immediately followed by a terrified sob as Em’s body folds in on itself. She still hasn’t let go of my hand as her mom falls to her knees from her chair and draws her into a hug, shushing her. I look back to Dr. King whose face looks devoid of any emotion. How can she look like that? I don’t understand—how can she deliver the worst possible news anyone can be told and not break down?
“Mrs. Wilson, you’ll have lots of questions that I’m sure you will want answered but I’m going to give you these pamphlets that explain everything you need to know about the disease. I’m sure whatever I tell you at the moment will be forgotten in the midst of high-running emotions. I’m going to call for an ambulance to transport you to the Teenage Oncology Unit at UCLA Health Center. I think it’s vital that we order more tests on Emily right away to confirm the diagnosis.”
Emily hasn’t looked up from her mom’s shoulder and her sobs feel like a sledgehammer to my heart, each one shattering it into more and more pieces.
“Confirm the diagnosis…so, are you saying you might be incorrect, it might not be cancer? You only did one blood draw, it could be wrong, couldn’t it?” Pam’s voice is laced with desperation, her eyes wide and glazed over with tears.
“I can’t say at this stage that it is categorically leukemia, but I can tell you that we are fairly positive that this is what we are dealing with.” She leans forward and passes a handful of tissues over the desk. “We are going to step outside for a moment and give you a few minutes to let the news settle, then we can discuss the next steps.” They rise in unison and one by one the doctors leave the room. I find myself wanting to scream, punch, and tear this whole horrid room apart. This isn’t right. She can’t have cancer—we’re only fifteen.
Emily’s sobs stop as she draws back from her mom and looks at her. Tears have stained her cheeks and mascara has smudged a dirty grey line under her red-rimmed eyes.
“Momma, am I going to die?” She sounds completely broken. I’m not sure if it’s because she actually is, or because I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. I suddenly feel overwhelmingly dizzy. I imagine this is what an out-of-body experience is like. I don’t feel like myself, I feel as though I’m watching this unfold from somewhere else. The sound of heartbreak is clear in Pam’s voice as she tries to comfort Emily, but I can’t help noticing that she didn’t say no.
My body shudders as a chill races down my spine; every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire. Surely this can’t be happening.
“Don’t think like that, Em, You’ll be fine,” I tell her, although there’s not much conviction in my voice. “Whatever happens, it will all work out okay, you’ll see.”
She looks at me with the most petrified expression I’ve ever seen, I’m sure it will haunt me for the rest of my life. “You promise?”
I stiffen at her question; I’m not in the habit of making promises that I can’t keep. I cross my fingers and silently pray to myself that my next words will turn out to be the truth. “Yes Em.” I tell her. “I promise.”
