Fracture

29. Dylan

CHAPTER 29

DYLAN

Stella’s hand is so small in mine. I gently stroke her fingers, over her cracked and broken nails. My girl’s a fighter. She fought them with everything she had.

“I’m going to take you to get these nails done as soon as they let you out,” I tell her with a smile.

She scoffs out a laugh, gazing at me with swollen eyes. Her lip is split, and bruises line the left side of her face.

“I think I might need a facial, too,” she whispers, her voice rough and cracking.

I lean over her and brush her hair gently from her forehead. “Whatever you want. Anything, you name it. Smutty books, facials, a fucking week in the Bahamas. Whatever you want, guera . It’s yours.”

“How about a new home?” Her amber eyes are bloodshot, rimmed with purple and yellow, and they begin to shine with tears. “Somewhere far away. Just you, and me, and Levi.”

I sigh heavily and press her hand to my mouth. “That sounds good.”

“Maybe we could live in a big city, huh?” Her fingers stroke my cheek, and tears start to fill my eyes at the touch. “I think I’d like that.”

“I think I would, too.” I raise my eyes back to hers, and shake my head. “I’m so sorry.”

“What for?”

“Not being there.”

“Oh, Dylan.” She sighs heavily. “This isn’t your fault.”

“This was Oswald, wasn’t it?”

She blinks rapidly, her brow furrowing. “Why would you say that?”

“The video he had on his phone, of you.” I hate that I say these words as soon as her mouth drops open in a startled gasp, and she shifts her head on the pillow, avoiding my eyes. “ Guera , please don’t turn away from me.”

“How did you know?” A sob snatches away her voice, and her shoulders shake against the bed.

“Did you tell him you were pregnant?”

She shakes her head, still refusing to look back at me. “I wasn’t, I promise. I wasn’t.”

“But he thought you were?”

“He told me to leave you.” She puts a hand to her face and whimpers. “He told me I had to leave you both, so I goaded him. I was so stupid. I don’t even know why I said it.” She turns back to me, wincing as she does. “It was the dumbest thing I could have done, and I don’t know why that was the first thing that came to mind. But I… I wanted them to know there was no way I was letting you both go. It was the only thing I could say, and I’m so stupid.” She presses a hand to her face as she starts to cry, and I gently gather her in my arms.

She feels so fragile, like broken glass, and I don’t want to hurt her. She shakes gently in my arms, tears soaking my shirt.

“I’m so sorry, guera . I’m so fucking sorry I wasn't there to protect you.”

“I was so scared.”

“I know, I know.” I kiss her hair, holding her close and wishing I could protect her from the world and all the hatred and anger that’s pursued her for all this time.

Suddenly, her head snaps up and she looks at me with wild eyes.

“Those men, in the video, Dylan, you have to know, I was so drunk, and I was high, and they… I don’t even remember it really.”

“Hey, no, none of that.” I stroke her cheek, swiping away the tears that won’t stop falling. “Don’t even say anything about that. None of that was your fault.”

“I just wanted you.” Her face crumples and her head falls back against my shoulder. “The whole time, I just wanted you. You were all I could think of. I wanted you so badly.”

The image of Stella’s mouth torn open in a silent plea on that grainy video swims through my mind, and I clench my eyes shut.

“I’m going to make this right. I promise.”

She goes still in my arms, and exhales heavily. “I just want to go. Please, can we just go?”

I stroke her hair as she nestles against my chest, and I know I’m going to lie to her. I’m going to tell her that everything’s going to be just fine, and we’re going to leave. We’re going to find a beautiful apartment in Boston or New York, just the three of us, and live out our days. We’re going to be happy. We’re not going to be pursued by someone’s vengeful family, and Levi and I are not going to have hands stained with blood. We’re not damned. We’re not tainted souls driven by revenge and thirsty for the dying light in the eyes of everyone who ever wronged her.

I know it's a lie. But I’ll say it anyway. Because for once, I know the truth isn’t going to help. It’s never helped me before.

“ Guera , you’re going to get better, and we’re going to take you home.”

“And then we’ll leave?” Her voice is small and hopeful. It shatters my heart.

“Yes. We’ll get out of here.”

The door swings open, and Levi steps into the room. The scowl on his face is instantly replaced by a smile as his eyes land on Stella and me.

“Hey, baby girl,” he says, perching on the other side of the bed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better.” She lifts her head and turns in my arms to look at Levi, reaching out a hand to him. “A little sore.”

“The doctors said you’re a real fighter.” Levi takes her hand in his, raising it to his lips. “Like I didn’t already know that.”

Stella sniffles and laughs softly. “Yeah well, I’ve dealt with worse.”

Levi’s eyes flash to mine for a split second, and he sighs.

“Dylan said we can leave,” Stella goes on, shuffling a little closer to Levi as he puts an arm around her shoulders. “We’re going to go, the three of us. Right?” She looks at me, her eyes brightening a little.

I smile and nod. “That’s right. We’re going to get the fuck out of here, and we’re going to be so happy.”

“Sounds good to me.” Levi kisses Stella’s temple. “Anywhere you want to go, you name it.”

“Hmmm, good.” She nuzzles into the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering closed. “We can start looking at places soon, then.”

“Yes, we can.” Levi’s jaw feathers slightly, and I’m relieved Stella can’t see it.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I excuse myself to the hallway to answer it.

“Thanks to you, my shitty basement got a full upgrade,” Flea says down the line, hacking out a laugh.

“Glad you’re happy, man.”

“You wanted a schedule, I got you one.” Keys tap in the background, and Flea coughs loudly so I jerk the phone away from my ear. “Sorry, I got a cold.”

“No problem, those summer colds are vicious.”

“OK, so, Perlmann-Langford schedule shows they’re having dinner tomorrow night.” Flea’s chair creaks audibly, and he sniffles. “They will be convening at the Fenton family home, 7pm sharp.”

“Great, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

I move the phone from my ear to hang up, but hear Flea’s “Aht-aht-aht” over the line, and raise the phone back.

“What?”

“You OK, man? You seem stressed.”

“I-I’m in the hospital, with someone I care about.”

Flea sucks on his teeth. “Sorry to hear that. I just wanted you to know that Oswald has been in touch with someone. A Michael Gray, ex-Marine. It would appear he’s hired muscle.”

“Of course he has.” I grunt out a laugh. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Listen, I don’t usually give a fuck, whatever you do, you do. “ Flea’s voice changes tenor, and it’s unsettling to hear anything like concern coming from him. “This guy, this Michael Gray, he got a dishonorable discharge for war crimes. He didn’t go to prison because Oswald stepped in and pulled some senatorial bullshit.”

“War crimes?”

“This guy is a psycho.” Flea’s voice drops to an almost whisper. “He killed women and kids, man. With zero remorse. Just opened up on ‘em. This guy doesn’t have a conscience. Just… Be careful, OK?”

Goosebumps break out over my arms. Flea doesn’t care about anything or anyone, except his mother. To hear this cynical, nonchalant man warn me makes my stomach drop.

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Anytime.”

The line goes dead as Flea hangs up.The chilled feeling doesn’t go away. I watch Levi holding Stella through the glass window, watch those small slivers of hope fill Stella’s eyes as she talks to him about moving away and leaving all this behind us.

My resolve almost falters. Maybe Stella’s right. Maybe we can leave all this behind us and just run away. But then my hand tightens around my phone. No . They’ll never leave us alone. The fact that Oswald hired this war criminal tells me in no uncertain terms that it won’t be over til we make sure it’s over.

We can’t stop, not now. Not until every last one of them is dead.

Days ago, I was praying that Stella was alive, that she’d live through the carnage I heard over the phone. Now, I send up another prayer. Or perhaps it’s a bargain? A threat?

You owe me. After everything you’ve done, everything you’ve taken from us, you owe me. You owe me this. So turn the fuck away and let me make this right. And if I come out alive, I might just forgive you. But you fucking owe me .