Beyond Repair (Broken Girl Book 1) (20 page)

“I’ll do it. I’ll make the call.”

“Callum,” she breathes. “You can’t. You’ve only just began to build bridges with her. This will tear them all down. Maybe Roy will do it?”

“No. It has to be me, Kate. She’s going to need you and Joe and her uncle whilst she’s in there.”

It has to be me. I don’t know why but I feel it in my gut that I have to be the one to fix this. I have to be the one to take all of her hate. Because out of all the people supporting her, I’m the one who deserves to be shut out the most. I hang up the call to Kate after forming a plan and stroll over to the bed. I pull my shirt off and climb in, wrapping myself around the perfect girl beside me. In her sleep, she pulls me tighter around her. I revel in her warmth, steal these last precious moments with her before I betray her in the best possible way. Tomorrow things change. Tomorrow I will let her go, but tonight I will take what I can of her. 

I watch him. It’s weird, probably stalkerish, but I can’t stop myself. He really is stupidly attractive. I mean, it can’t be normal to look that dangerously sexy when you’re asleep. This is the second time I’ve woken up next to that man and not had my filthy little dreams come true. I might as well be in a convent. I wrap the shirt of his that I’m wearing tighter around myself and finally pull my eyes away to and focus back on what I was planning. I move around the kitchen in rigid movements, not really sure what I’m doing. I want to make breakfast in bed as a thank you to Callum but I don’t really know how to cook. No wonder I’m single. I stand in front of the coffee maker. At least I know how to work this. I set it up and make two cups then try and organize my thoughts long enough to remember how Uncle Roy makes eggs. I sip at my coffee. It hopeless. I can’t do it. Fleets of disappointment wave through me. I’m fucking useless.

I grab the jeans Kitty had the sense to get for me from the chair by the bed and pull them on. I might not be able to cook, but I can go buy breakfast. That’s just as thoughtful, I’d say. I mean, it’s damn near romantic. I’m almost completely eliminating the possibility of food poisoning and death by bad eggs. Not that I need to be romantic with Callum. We’re just friends.
Awesome
. I push my feet into my chucks, pluck some cash from my purse and dash out the door.

Luckily, Callum lives right in town so it only takes me two minutes to get to the diner. It’s packed with people and I have to mentally prepare myself for onslaught before pushing the door open. Now normally I enjoy people looking at me and noticing me. Normally I feed from their attention and let it fuel my fight to be different, but when I’m wearing a shirt that obviously belongs to a man, no makeup, and my hair looks as though it’s about to pack it’s bags and leave me, I’d rather go about being invisible. I push through their curiosity and walk to the counter. Gayle hurries over to me.

“Hi Sweetie, what can I get for you?”

I force a smile at her fake one, “Can I have two bacon and cheese omelettes with French toast please?” I clear my throat. “To take out.”

Her eyebrow raises ever so slightly before asking me to take a seat whilst she gets it all ready. I do as she says and occupy myself with tapping insistently on my lap. I really hope Callum appreciates what I’m doing for him. I felt him last night getting into bed with me. I’ve been in an out of sleep since he saved me from my father’s office but last night he climbed in behind me and held me close all night. At first I was scared, a little mortified that he felt the need to do that. It passed fairly quickly though. Soon, all I could think about was the way my body molded perfectly into his, the way his hand pressed flat on my stomach set butterflies off beneath his touch, and the way I felt safer than I have in forever laying in his arms. Nothing else mattered, nothing else seemed significant. Just him and me, alone in that moment. My stomach drops out with horror. How have I become so reliant on him? How have I let myself replace Kitty with him? It hasn’t fixed anything.
I haven’t fixed anything
. I’m supposed to be getting myself better. I’m supposed to be learning to handle my life on my own. I’m not supposed to be swapping crutches.

“Honey?”

Gayle’s voice disturbs me. I look up and she’s dangling the takeout in front of my face like I’m a small animal. I take it from her and thank her, somewhat distracted, then leave the diner. The stares of the other customers follow me out but I ignore them and take rushed steps away. What am I doing? Why am I buying him breakfast? What the fuck is wrong with me? I should be running as far away from him as possible. I don’t need him, and he really doesn’t need my crazy ass. It’s bad enough that I put Kitty through it. Shit. I need to walk away from them all. I’m a big mess that none of them deserve to have to deal with.

The conflicting thoughts spinning in my head cause me to lose all the air in my lungs. I desperately search around me, but the streets are derelict except for one figure looking on at me from the opposite side of the street. My insides ice over, my body beginning to tremble as a cold sweat forms. He smirks, his eyes wide with joy as he stares at my discomfort. My life flashes through my mind, the whole hideous truth of it is a personal slideshow of horror in my head. I will it to switch off, beg myself to get a grip, but I can’t. That girl inside has taken over. She’s been released from her prison and is merciless in her internal torture of me. Inside I scream, fight desperately to get away, but outside only the silent tears streaming down my face show my desperation. I don’t flee, don’t move a single muscle. I let him see what he has done to me. I let him see how he has won.

In return, I see the victory written all over his face. It devastates every fiber of my being, drowning in me grief and misery. He crosses the street and approaches me. Still, I don’t move. His smile is sinister as he stands before me, his eyes hard and unloving. I flinch when he places his hand on my shoulder.

“Well, Lydia Rose. It would seem you’re in a bit of a mess.”

I swallow down the bile threatening to spew from me.
Don’t let him in
, my mind screams.
Don’t let him bring you down
. I sieve through my thoughts, searching despairingly for the tiniest scrap of reality to help me out. Nothing. Nada. All clear thinking has been demolished and all that’s left is choked desolation and regret. It’s too late.

“Why?” I croak out. “Why do you do this to me?”

He puts his face in close to mine, “Because you should have died with your useless mother.”

I gasp as he laughs and walks away from me. What did I ever do to make him hate me so much? Why does he want to hurt me like this? Why am I not good enough? I drop the bag with the recently bought food in and take slow steps away from the town.

I’m not good enough for anyone.

Where is she?
I glance around the loft again as if it will somehow magic her ass in front of me. Nope. She’s absolutely nowhere to be seen in here. I scratch at the back of my neck and walk into the kitchen. There are two cups on the side, one still filled with coffee, the other half empty.
What the hell?
I stroll back to my bed and grab my cell from the bedside cabinet, dialing Lydia’s number. Her cell rings from the coffee table. I shake my head and call Kate. Maybe she went over there.

“Hey, Cal. How is she?”

I frown, “She isn’t with you?”

I practically feel the change in Kate’s mood immediately. Damn pregnancy hormones, “No she isn’t. She’s supposed to be with you. I’m coming over.”

“No, no,” good grief, I don’t need that headache. “Stay home. I’ll go find her. It’s not like she could have gone far, is it?”

Kate sighs, “Okay. You do that. I’ll call Roy in case she’s there,” She laughs a little but it’s humorless. “She must know what we’re planning.”

I freeze. Shit, what if she does? “Yeah. I’ll call you later.”

I hang up the call and rush into the bedroom to get changed. I notice Lydia’s jeans have disappeared and say a small thanks that at least she’s covered her ass. I laugh out loud to myself with that thought. Only with Lydia Baker would I have to consider whether she’s wearing pants or not. I shake my head as I finish dressing. Time to go and find her. She better not be in the fucking bar.

Two hours. Two hours I’ve been searching for her to absolutely no avail. I’m beginning to get seriously worried. I noticed her pills are in the same place she left them last night, so she hasn’t taken any medication today. I have no idea what time she left the loft this morning, just that she wasn’t there when I woke up. I glance at the time on my watch again. The doctors from the mental health clinic will be here in an hour and she’s nowhere to be seen. Is it possible that she did know? I’ve tried everywhere. Her apartment, Roy’s, the park, town square. Gayle at the diner said she was in there early this morning buying breakfast but hasn’t seen her since.
Where are you Little Bit?
I kick at an empty bottle on the park, frustrated that I have let this happen. She is in no state to be out on her own right now. Hell, she hasn’t been for a long time. Not since the night at her mom’s gravestone. Fuck! That’s it. That’s where she’ll be.

I call Kate and tell her to go over to my place and meet the doctors when they arrive then rush back to my truck. She promises to have everything ready for when we return so I speed my way to the cemetery, a wave of desperation washing over me as I recall every other time she’s disappeared and declared silence.
Please no, Lydia.
When I arrive, I can’t get out quick enough. I remember the way to Mrs Baker’s grave from the last time I came, so I hurry along the cobblestone path. If I was here in any other situation, I might be able to appreciate the beauty of the place in daylight, but I can’t think about the perfectly placed flowers when images of Lydia lying in her own blood are forefront in my mind. I try to banish them but until I see her I know they’re here to stay.

I find her kneeling on the grass that covers the grave, her head resting on the granite slab. Her shoulders shake with silent sobs, but her grief is loud and clear. I can hear it, see it polluting the air around her. I’ve never seen her look so alone.

“Little Bit,” I say, quietly and not wanting to disturb her.

She turns to look at me and I see just how much she needs help. Her eyes are wild, the exhaustion making her face look tortured. I can see every worry, every fear she has written all over her. She looks like hell, but I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.

“I’m broken,” she whispers. “I’m so fucking broken.”

I rush to her and drop to my knees, pulling her into me.

“No baby, you’re not. You’re just a little bruised and need some help,” disgust in myself rises in me for what I know I’m about to do. “Come on, let’s go home.”

She nods against me and lets me lift her. I don’t bother to put her down to walk and instead I carry her to my truck. Inside I pull a jacket from the back seat and cover her with it. She curls into my side as I make the drive to my loft. The closer I get, the sicker I feel. I want so bad to take her away, to run with her so far that no one can get to her. I want to be able to fix this for her, to cure her of a disease that is slowly destroying everything she is, but I can’t. I can’t do shit other than hurt her in the one way that will ruin everything we never had the chance to be. I have to sacrifice every thought and feeling I have for her in order to get her through this. I have to do what no one else can because she needs it. I have to do this, but I don’t have to like it.

I park up outside the loft, noticing the unfamiliar cars, and look over to her. She smiles sadly back at me as I brush the loose hair from her face and lean in close.

“I want you to know that you mean a hell of a lot to me, okay?”

She nods, “Can we have a movie night? I promise I’ll watch the whole thing.”

I force a laugh, choking back the lump forming in my throat. I move closer, letting my mouth hover above hers. I just want one last taste. Her eyes widen a fraction just before I touch my lips against hers softly. It’s perfection and soul destroying all at the same time. I pull away and climb from the car, steeling myself against what’s to come. She follows me out and over to my building. I hold her tiny hand in mine and we climb the stairs silently. She’s apprehensive as I beckon her through the door before me, as if she already knows what’s waiting on the other side. She gives me a curious look before stepping through.

“Lydia!” Kate shouts and rushes over to her, bundling her up in a tight embrace.

I look over to where Roy and Joe are sat with two women I assume are from the clinic. There are two men standing behind them. Roy offers me a nod and Joe smiles apologetically. Kate leads Lydia over to the sofas. I watch her as she whips her gaze between all the faces in the room. I don’t join them. Instead I stay standing by the front door, knowing I don’t belong there with her now. I don’t deserve to be a part of the support system that she has.

“What’s going on?” Lydia asks.

One of the women reply, “Hello Lydia. I’m Doctor Banks,” she says and then motions to the other woman. “And this is Doctor Kyle. We’re here to see how we can help you.”

She smiles but Lydia is shaking her head.

“No,” she whispers. “You’re here to take me away.”

Her eyes land on Kate, “Kitty please,” she begs. “Don’t let them take me. Send them away. I promise I’ll get better. You didn’t have to call them.”

She stands now, crying hysterically as the doctors approach her. Kate grips her hand. She’s just as hysterical.

“I didn’t call them, Lyds, but maybe they can help you.”

“No,” Lydia shouts. “I don’t need them. I can’t go back to that place, Kitty. Please.”

She brings her stare to me now, narrowing her eyes.
She knows.
My guilt must be all over me because there is nothing but hurt and accusation on her face.

“You,” she breathes.

“Little Bit-“ I start but I’m cut off my her shouting.

“How could you?”

She lunges for me but I don’t move. I let her fling her arms wildly at me until she’s restrained by the two men who came with the doctors. They fight to calm her, the doctors talking in hushed tones to her. She soon stills and instead clears herself of all emotion. I see it. Watch it happen. Watch her eyes go flat, and devoid of any life as they lead her from the loft. I can hear Kate crying behind me but I don’t acknowledge anything but the deep hole forming in my chest as Lydia stares through me. Her mouth parts as she forces them to stop moving her and hits me with the coldest look I’ve ever seen or felt. I swallow hard. 

“I’ll never forgive you for this, Callum. Never.”