Shattered and Shaken Read online

  As the moan escapes her, my lungs shrivel, oxygen depleted, much like a wet sponge thrown into the desert. A sponge is useless dry, just like my lungs are useless to me. I can't breathe and my head's spinning. I feel myself slowly slipping out of consciousness due to lack of oxygen. I scurry through the apartment trying to escape before I faint. My body moves faster than I can keep up. Taking the stairs down to the car, I hold on the rail tightly. My toe catches against the step and my grip loosens from the rail and fall forward onto my knees. I try to catch myself with my hands, but I'm moving too fast. My body rolls over my arms; my back bangs against the concrete, and my head collides repeatedly against the steel railing. I try to scream for help, but I can't suck in enough air to yell. As I near the platform, I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for the impact. My head hits the concrete hard, so hard it bounces. Instantly, I see spots, and my hearing decreases. Blake's face flashes in front of my eyes, the pregnancy tests, the betrayal of the people I trusted most.

  My limbs are heavy and my head feels like someone's taken a sledgehammer to it. I'm dying and it doesn't bother me; it's what needs to happen. People continue to hurt me. The pain's more than I can tolerate. If I die, the pain will be no more; it'll be gone forever. Tears slide down my face, but I can't reach up to wipe them away, and if I'm paralyzed, I'd rather be dead anyway. I begin to fade in and out of consciousness.

  “Allie!” Sophie screams in terror. I fight to respond, but darkness takes me.

  …BLACK

  “Fuck, Butterfly, wake up,” Wyatt commands. Fear choking his words.

  And...BLACK.

  Sirens blare in my ears, and they cause me to cringe. My eyes won't open and all I can see is black, pitch black. I hear snipping of scissors, but I don't understand why. I can't feel my body! Oh my God, I can't feel a fucking thing! There's a pounding in my head, my chest, my ears; the beeping in the background beeps faster, but the sound fades along with my thoughts. Darkness is taking over again...BLACK...

  I hear the sound of doors opening, and I feel queasy from motion. “Twenty-two-year-old female, fell down two flights of concrete steps. BP 80/60, pulse as low as 50 and as high as 140. Head trauma, non-responsive,” a woman informs as we enter the hospital.

  I hear shoes scuff against the floor. “Aw fuck, Allie, baby.” Blake’s voice pierces through my darkness. Ahh Blake, my comfort. Hold me, please.

  I will my eyes open, but they don't. What the fuck is wrong with me! Ouch, the pain, oh God, the pain. Take it away. “What happened to her?” Blake demands. I hear the concern in his words. I want to reach out and touch him, let him know we'll be okay. Suddenly, I'm not worried about me, I'm worried about the baby, but my mouth won’t move to tell anyone to check on our baby. Help the baby, forget the pain, just help...BLACK...

  “Al, Allie.” I hear Sophie through her sobs. Fuck you bitch. You betrayed me. I hear the opening of doors again and cool air brushes against my face. “Dr. Andrews, please, let us do our job. We'll take care of her, sir.” I hear a bang and I assume Blake's just punched the wall; whatever he hit, I'm sure he fractured something within his hand. A male gives orders for me to have a CTA immediately. I don't know what a CTA is, but it sounds serious. I hear Blake’s voice through the chaos surrounding me. His voice is like a soothing balm, instantly making me want to live. I need to be okay, for us, the three of us…

  Light glares into my eyes, stinging them. They refuse to open; however, their refusal is different, I'm in control this time. It's not that they won't open. I give up fighting against the light. Bringing my hands above my eyebrows, I shadow my eyes, blocking the light. Holy crap, I can move my limbs! Oh shit! Why is there a bandage around my head? Fuck! Where's my hair? Oh my God, where’s my fucking hair?

  “Calm down, dear,” a nurse soothes. The monitors go crazy beeping and dinging.

  “What do you mean calm down? Lady, my hair's gone!” I scream in pure panic, my voice hoarse.

  She looks at me as I force my eyes fully open. “Oh, honey, we didn't have a choice,” she says gently, trying to calm me. Didn't have a choice?

  “What? What do you mean, y'all didn't have a choice?” I ask. My voice is stronger with each panicked shout. “Oh my God! Why is this in my arm? Get it out,” I shout. My head’s fuzzy, and I know something isn’t right. Shit. I pull at the IV in attempt to remove it. The nurse punches the red call button on the side of the bed rail. “Page Dr. Andrews for Miss Anderson, now,” the nurse orders.

  I know I fell down and hit my head, but it's not that serious, so why do I have wires attached to me as if I'm a fucking science experiment? Instantly, I relax as Blake emerges into my room. “Blake, please get this shit off of me,” I plead.

  He smiles. “Can't do that babe, not yet,” he announces, placing his stethoscope over my heart.

  “What are you doing?” No offense, but he's no neurologist, and I'm pretty sure I'm here because I hit my head, not because I damaged my vagina.

  “Checking you, now shh.” Shh? He can't shh me.

  “Blake, there's a bandage around my head, and my hair's missing. Where is it?” I ask, seriously. I’m freaking myself out by the calm that settles in my voice.

  He motions for the nurse to exit the room; she follows his instructions. “I'll page Dr. Dixon,” she informs him.

  He nods his head swiftly, and then averts his attention to me. “Allie, do you remember anything from last night?”

  The worst parts, yes. I remember seeing Wyatt pound the hell out of my best friend, my sister. I clear my throat before answering, “I remember going to Sophie’s.” I can’t tell him what I saw; it’ll begin an argument I’m not ready to deal with.

  He squeezes my hand. “What about the accident, the fall? You remember any of that?” Well, there's a pounding in my head that makes it difficult to forget.

  “Yes. I remember hitting my head, but I'm not so sure why I'm lying in a hospital bed hooked up to all these monitors,” I tell him.

  He looks at me with glassy eyes. “Allie, you have a serious head injury. You more than hit your head, babe; you slammed it into the concrete.” I can see that he’s forcing himself to keep it together. He looks tired. Concrete? Okay, maybe I do remember something like my head kissing concrete. I remember the pain and how I just wanted it to end. “You had bleeding around your brain; they had to go in and drain it off, relieve the pressure. They had to rush you to the OR, Al. You don't remember that?”

  “No,” I admit. I don't remember anything past tripping and hitting my head against the platform at the end of the steps. His eyes are searching mine for answers, but I don't know what he's looking for. “Look, I don't want to upset you, because you're still in stable but critical condition, but this can't wait any longer.” he swallows hard several times before he continues. “We had to do some routine labs before we took you into surgery, and something showed up that surprised the hell out of me... Is there anything you want to tell me?” His question causes me to gulp, preventing me from answering him. This is not how I planned on telling him that I ruined his life. “Were you going to tell me? How long have you known?” As I open my mouth to explain, Wyatt enters my room. The monitors explode as my heart hammers against my chest, trying to escape me.

  Blake turns and meets Wyatt's gaze. “You sorry son of a bitch.” I hardly recognize Blake’s voice; it’s laced with venom. Blake jumps across the room, smashing his fist into Wyatt's jaw.

  Wyatt stumbles back, but quickly regains his balance. He takes Blake’s arms and bends them behind his back. "You know nothing about me," Wyatt hisses, pushing Blake against the wall, pounding his forehead into the wall.

  “Stop, please,” I plead, managing only a whisper. I'm terrified Wyatt's going to kill him; it's what he's trained to do, kill with his bare hands. Blake tosses his head back, plowing it into Wyatt's nose, and blood splatters around the room. At the sight of blood, I become nauseous. Wyatt losses his grip on Blake, and Blake tackles him to the floor.

  "I know
enough," Blake admits, pounding Wyatt's face. Wyatt pushes Blake off of him and pins him to the floor, his knee crushing against Blake's chest. "Fuck you, she's mine- she always has been," Wyatt claims, rearing his fist back.

  "Please, no- don't. Please, just stop, for- for-" I'm fading, again. Blurred vision... black spots... cracking bones.... beeping, for fuck sake, the beeping.... and darkness...

  BLACK

  To Be Continued...

  About the author

  Born and raised in Nashville, TN. I'm a mother to two boys and a beautiful baby girl. I'm a nursing student, mother, wife, cook, chauffeur. I love all things books. I enjoy losing myself in my writing, but I'm also my biggest critic. I enjoy manicures, chocolate, ladies night in, and having a nice glass of wine:)

  Check me out on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJBailes

  https://authorjbailes.wordpress.com

  Email me at: [email protected]

  Acknowledgements

  First, I want to give thanks to God, without him I am nothing, nonexistent. He provides me with the knowledge and ability to write. To my husband and children that have had a mother MIA for the last five months, I love you more with each passing second. I’ve missed time with you that I can never get back, but you continue to support me- thank you.

  Second, I want to thank the most bad ass pimpette Melissa G. for guiding me through all the craziness that comes with being an author, and for pimping me from day one. Not only have you became my cover designer, my pimpette, but you’ve made your way into my heart. To all the bloggers and your wicked pimping, thank you! To Promiscuous Book Blog and My Fictional Boyfriend and Book Whore page, the first people to give me a chance when no one else would, thank you! You whores have made a permanent spot inside of my heart, along with many others. Without you I wouldn’t have accumulated a fan base as I was transforming into a writer. So to all the bloggers out there, I take my bra off and give you a huge effin’ thank you!!

  Third, to my amazing ass street team- you rock! You are the ladies that support my decisions, call me on my bullshit, and encourage me to keep going. I love each of you dearly. Thank you for your time, support, and pimpage.

  Fourth, to the many authors I’ve asked questions, thank you. Words cannot explain how grateful I am that you all accepted me from the beginning, added me to groups, answered any questions I had, and helped guide me through this process. Not only are you an author I admire, but you’ve become great friends.

  Fifth, all you mothershakin’ fans!! Without you Shattered and Shaken is nothing. You’re the reason I write, you inspire me to fire up my computer and type away. You make me smile, and you warm my soul. Thank you for your support, and thank you for giving your average day southern belle a chance. I love each and every one of you!!