Beyond Repair (Broken Girl Book 1) (19 page)

"Lydia, what's wrong?"

Where should I begin, bitch?
"You seem to be missing a doctor, Claire, and I really need to see him. Why wasn't I told that he was leaving? I only saw him a couple of days ago and he didn't mention anything."

She attempts an apologetic smile, but it's so very obviously fake. My anxiety sharpens.
They're all against me
.

"I'm sorry, Lydia. I only found out myself this morning. Doctor Tyde was offered a very good job in a bigger town," she smiles. "I believe it was your father who recommended him for it actually. I can ask his replacement to see you. I'm sure Doctor Tyde left all your information."

I'm no longer listening. No longer in this conversation with her anymore. This is him. He did this. Of course he did; it's what he does. How could I be so stupid and not put it together straight away? I can hear his threat now, loud and fucking clear. My nerves fry further, leaving nothing but frayed fragments of sense left behind. My brain is rattling in my skull, the illness suffocating me. I'm completely stoic on the outside, but inside I'm fighting for breath. Inside I'm falling and the real me is tearing apart the nice little box I keep her in. I don't even know why I keep her prisoner in my head anymore. Life is so much easier when she's free. My meltdown is coming, and it isn't going to be pretty.

Something is wrong. I can feel it right in my bones. It feels like I'm sitting in some warped serenity and the storm is about to hit. Mark has been in my office at least four times in the past hour with pointless questions, I haven't heard from Lydia since very early this morning when she said she was going to see her doctor, and I could swear the clock has begun to tick backwards. Being sat in this chair, having nothing to do but think, has me feeling all kinds of fury. After what Lydia told me about her relationship with the Mayor last night, I'm struggling to keep my cool. He can sense the difference too; I can see the hesitation in his eyes now. Every day since I've been here he's asked about his daughter, except today. I don't know why, but it bothers me. Does he know something I don't? I pull out my cell to text Lydia again. She said she was going to get her uncle to make the doctor’s appointment with her, but I haven't heard anything since. I tried Kate, and Lydia has told her she's spending the day with Roy. Something doesn't quite feel right though. It's almost four. Surely we should have heard from her by now. I tap out my message, being careful not to come across as overbearing.

Me:
Where you at Little Bit? You wanna grab some dinner after I finish work?

She doesn't respond. She doesn't have to because I hear her outside my door less than a minute later and she's not trying to be quiet. I rush from my chair and out of the door to see what all the shouting is for. I find her banging on the Mayor's door, screaming for him to come out. The tartan shirt she has on barely covers her denim skirt, which is barely covering her ass. I fight every urge I have to run over there and cover her up. She lifts the bottle of tequila hanging from her hand up to her mouth and takes a long drink of it.
She shouldn't be drinking
. I can see people coming out of their own offices to witness the show as Mark emerges.

"Lydia, what is going on?" He asks. He takes a step towards her but she throws her hands up and backs off. "Lydia?"

"You," she growls. "You did this. Where the fuck is he?"

Mark casts a nervous glance around the office and opens his door wider, "Why don't you come inside and we can talk about whatever is upsetting you?"

"No thanks," she shrugs, flicking back the long tendrils of her hair. "What's up? Don't want the awesome people you work with to see what's left of your daughter, huh? Scared I might spill something important? Like how-"

He cuts her off, "Lydia, that's enough."

She laughs and shakes her head.

"Not even close to enough," she pours more tequila into her mouth and I move closer. "But for now I just need to know where Tyde is. I know this is your doing, Mark."

"Lydia, I don't know what you're talking about."

She laughs, but it's cruel, "You expect me to believe that?" She shakes her head. "You forget, asshole, I know you. The
real
you."

Baker whips his gaze to me as I approach. I can see the pleading in them.
Yeah, yeah. I'll take care of her.
It's not for him though. It's for her. She doesn't need to give the people in here more of a show than she already has. She drinks more of the alcohol and turns to face me.

"Hey, Little Bit."

She looks at me, but her usual warmth isn't in her eyes. It's masked with alcohol, anger, and hurt. She all but rattles in front of me, a complete contradiction. Her face is completely impassive, almost calm, but she's radiating explosive energy. I can feel it coming off of her in harsh waves, and the reality of the mess she's in is crippling. She's breaking right before me, and I don't know how to put her back together. I wrap my hand around her trembling arm a pull lightly. She blinks a few times in rapid succession before darting her eyes around the room.

"Callum."

It’s a whisper, a plea for me to help her. Save her. Her entire body is shivering now so I take the tequila from her before it can crash to the floor. Her breathing is coming out in harsh pants, her chest heaving as though she's fighting for oxygen. Lydia is about three seconds away from an all-out panic attack and I have no fucking idea how to stop it. I need to call Kate, or Joe. They'll know how to handle this. First I need to get her away from her father.

"Lyds, come with me," I say softly. She tenses but doesn't pull away from me. I tug on her arm a little more to get her to move. "Let me just get my coat from my office and then we can go get a burger, huh?"

She nods ever so slightly so I lead her the rest of the way to my office, ignoring the look of thanks I get from Mark. When the door clicks shut, I hear the first sob. I don't think about what I'm doing and fold her into me. The dam breaks, and soon she's got her face pressed to my chest, her body shaking with her tears. I briefly wonder what state my shirt is going to be in when she's done, but squash that thought and hold her a little tighter. I don't care if half her face ends up staining me, as long as she feels better after it. I can feel her letting it all go, can feel all of her pain latching onto me and curling around my bones. I wish I could take it away. I wish more than anything that I could take it all for myself so she could be free from it. It took me a while, but I can see it now. She doesn't deserve this. This isn’t Lydia. This broken shell of a girl falling apart against me is not the Lydia Baker I know and I have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to do here.

A knock on the door startles me from my position on the sofa. I carefully move Lydia’s legs from where they are resting over my knees and stand. She stirs a little but thankfully doesn’t wake. It took me forever to calm her down enough to sleep. She finally gave it up half an hour ago when I convinced her to watch a movie with me. She barely made it five minutes in before I felt her body relax and her breathing soften. I look down at her now, forgetting for a short second what I’m standing for. She looks so peaceful, so still. Another knock forces me away from her.
Who the fuck is this?
It can’t be Kate or Joe as I only sent them home an hour ago. I told the guys not to come over as we’d originally planned. Maybe it’s Roy. I called him earlier to let him know that Lydia is at my place in case he wanted to see her, but then he’d still need the code to get in the building door. I shake my head and rub the sleep from my eyes. I’m exhausted and could really do without visitors. I open my door ready to dismiss whoever it is, but almost jump out of my skin when I see the Mayor.

“Mayor Baker,” I announce, almost question.

“Hello, Callum,” he smiles. “I came to ask how my daughter is. She isn’t answering her cell.”

I glance back to the sofa where I hope Lydia is still sleeping soundly, “She’ll be okay. She’s sleeping.”

He follows my gaze.

“I see,” I watch as his eyes harden before me. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that getting involved with my daughter is inappropriate, especially considering her condition.”

“We’re not involved,” I reply, not really believing my own words. There is definitely something between us, I just don’t know what.

“We’re friends,” I add, hating myself for being too much of a pussy to tell this asshole all the non-friendly shit I fantasize about doing to his daughter.

He nods slowly, “I know this isn’t something she likes to talk about, but I’m hoping I can bring it up for you to talk to her about. She needs help, Callum. She needs professional help. Her little show at the office earlier should show you that.”

I swallow. I’ve been having the same thoughts, but coming from him just makes it sound like an evil plan. He’s trying to put me in a position I don’t want to be in. He’s trying to make me be the bad guy, because that is exactly how Lydia will see me if I tell her I think she needs to go back to an asylum. Yet, would I rather she hates me and gets better, than the alternative?

“Just think about it,” Mark adds and then turns to leave.

“I will.”

“Are you fucking crazy?”

I groan, “Look I know it makes me an asshole, I know she’ll hate it and me, but I don’t know what else we can do here, Kate. She’s adamant that her medication has been screwed with, and I have half the mind to believe her on that, but we can’t fix it. She needs time, doctors and people who know how to care for her,” I close my eyes briefly. “She’s not going to check herself in willingly, Kate. One of us are going to have to make that call and have her admitted.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and continue to pace the length of the kitchen. Everything is such a fucking mess. The complete hopelessness of it makes me want to scream at the world.

Kate sighs, “I know. You’re right, I know that, but I don’t think I can do it to her, Cal. You didn’t see the state she was in the last time. It almost killed her in there, and almost killed me to see her in there. They tear her apart. All the testing, the probing questions, the lack of individuality. She becomes barely a shadow of herself.”

She lets out a heart breaking sob, “She’s my best friend. I can’t be the one to put her through that again. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

I let my eyes drift over Lydia’s sleeping frame. I carried her over to the bed before I called Kate, wrapping her gently in the comforter as though I was scared I’d break her. Now she looks like a doll curled up in the middle of my bed and all I want it to crawl up in there with her and make her forget everything. I take a deep breath, knowing what I have to do.