Broken & Torn (Emerald Falls #1)

23. 23

23

LYLA

E verything happens in a blur.

Me answering the phone and absorbing what the doctor told me.

Us grabbing our bags and tossing things haphazardly into them.

Parker drives 140km/hr on the highway, speeding towards the city, holding my hand the entire trip.

It feels like I can’t breathe. My mom is the only family that I have and the thought of losing her sends me into a panic. All I know is that her appendix burst and she’s being rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. My mom is a frail woman and I’m worried that her body won’t be able to handle something so severe, but I have to have faith that she’ll be okay. I can’t accept any other option.

My knee bounces as we sit in the waiting room of the hospital, hoping to hear good news soon. Gloria, my mother’s neighbor and best friend, is here with us. She holds my hand and keeps giving me reassurance.

“Your mom is a fighter, just like you.”

She keeps repeating this to me like a mantra, as if saying it enough times might will it to happen .

Hours go by, and I’m not sure whether to be worried or relieved. My mind begins to wander to times that she threw herself in front of my tiny body, shielding me from my monstrous father. Times that she laid in bed with me, clinging to me like I was her lifeline, whispering how we would have a better life one day.

Only that time never came for her.

Kathryn Thomas had been so torn apart by her husband that despite him no longer being around, she was never the same after the havoc he had caused in our lives. I remember hearing her deep in the night; sobbing, wailing. She was unable to shake the damage he had caused and I’ve had many failed attempts at getting her to go to therapy to heal her wounds. She insisted that she deserved to live with this pain for the rest of her life. Punishment for not being smarter, getting out of the situation, saving me from his wrath.

Tears spill down my cheeks as I remember our past conversation.

“I deserve to live with this, Lyla. The things I allowed to happen are unacceptable. And I don’t deserve to be freed from that pain. Not after everything he did to you. It’s something I will never forgive myself for.”

My mom isn’t a bad person, I know that. She had found love in my father, a love she had hoped for her whole life because she never received any from her parents. But it had all been an act to get her to trust him, love him, stay by him. The drinking hadn’t bothered her at first, as they were in their early twenties when they met and she figured it was normal for someone his age to party hard. But when she got pregnant at twenty-three, he didn’t change his ways. If anything, they worsened. He was barely home when she was expecting me, leaving his pregnant wife at home while he slept around and got blackout drunk. She told me that she’d felt trapped, like she had needed to stay because he was the breadwinner of the household and she couldn’t afford to support me on her own.

Little did she know, she would do exactly that anyway.

Long shifts at multiple jobs, just to keep us fed. Our electricity being turned off because my dad had spent our utility money on booze and bar tabs. We were a single income household because my father couldn’t keep a job for longer than a month, and that had weighed heavily on her.

I know she’s in a better place now financially, despite the debt he had left her with, but her spirit hasn’t recovered nearly as much as her bank account.

“Miss Thomas?”

I blink up at the doctor standing in front of me, quickly moving to stand and shake his hand.

“How is she?” My voice breaks, but I don’t care.

“Well, she’s very lucky she got here when she did. Surgery was tough, but she’s in recovery now. She should be ready to go home the day after tomorrow, but she’ll need some help moving around and she needs to rest as much as possible.”

I let out an audible sigh of relief, clutching a hand to my chest as I let that sink in.

She’s going to be okay.

“When can I see her?”

“She’s still fairly out of it and visiting hours are almost over, but you can come and see her tomorrow morning if you’d like.”

I ask a few more questions before the three of us finally make our way out to the parking lot. Gloria is still holding onto my hand, while Parker has a protective arm draped over my shoulders. Having him here grounded me and it’s an unfamiliar feeling—being able to rely on someone to help pick up the pieces of you while you’re crumbling. I have always been in it alone and bore the weight of everything by myself. I used to think that just made me strong and independent, but now I’m realizing it was a way for me to protect myself. It was a vulnerable position, leaning on someone else.

But it feels safe to do that with Parker. Natural, even.

I just hope that he stays after he learns the truth about me.

Gloria insisted that she could care for my mother while she recovered, allowing us to go back to Emerald Falls and back to work. I want to stay the night at the very least so that I can see my mom in the morning, so Parker and I are making our way to my family home.

As we turn onto my mom’s street, my heart begins to beat wildly within its cage and my palms are starting to become slick with sweat. As we pass by the other homes in the neighborhood, I can’t help the sinking feeling in my stomach, my gut twisting uncomfortably at the thought of entering my childhood home.

This might be a mistake, I think to myself as I chew on my lip relentlessly.

Parker’s hand reaches out to grasp my own, softly squeezing it.

“We don’t have to do this,” he states, taking a brief moment to look at me before his eyes return to the road.

“I know,” I sigh, “But I think I need to do this.”

He nods solemnly, accepting my choice.

As we pull into the driveway, dread swarms me, devouring every inch of resolve that I had not two minutes ago. But I steel my spine and exit the truck anyway.

I round the front of the vehicle and Parker steps up, taking my hand in his. As I begin to ascend the stairs leading to the front door, I feel him resist. I turn around to question before stopping.

Parker’s eyes are wide and he takes a gulp of air while staring past me, towards the entryway.

“It feels like I’m about to enter a haunted house.”

This makes a laugh burst past my lips.

“You basically are.”

I gently tug his hand, and he reluctantly follows me up the stairs. My hands shake as I pull the keys from my pocket, violently quivering as terror and anxiety creep their way in. I release a breath before finally inserting the key and turning the knob.

The moment I step inside, I can feel my body begin to shudder. My instinct is to run right back out that door, but I stand frozen instead.

“Lyla?”

Parker’s warm voice glides over me as he steps up to wrap an arm around my waist, turning me to face him. I’m not sure what he sees written on my face, but his crumples.

“Maybe we shouldn’t —”

Before he can finish, my feet start moving, carrying me through the townhouse. There’s a wall that runs down the center, kitchen to the left, and a hallway and stairs to the right. One set of stairs leads down to the basement, the other leading up to the bedrooms. I bypass the basement stairs and ascend the ones taking me up to my old room. I feel Parker’s presence behind me, quietly following me through the house.

Once I reach the top landing, I turn left and walk into my childhood bedroom. It hasn’t changed in the months since I moved out, empty of most of my items. Surprisingly, it feels just as empty to me as it did before I took my things out of the space. My bed and some other pieces of furniture are still here, and I can’t help but feel grateful that I chose to buy new furniture for my room in Emerald Falls.

I gingerly walk further into the room and stop short when I’m standing in front of the closet. I gently run my fingers over the knobs, remembering how I would almost rip them off in my haste to escape inside. I slowly open the doors and stare into the empty space.

Images flash before my eyes; Barbies littering the space, pillows and blankets lining the floor, and a young Lyla curled up, knees clinging to her chest. She’s rocking back and forth as sobs tear through her chest and I can distantly hear his booming voice.

A tear trickles down my cheek, followed by another. My throat tightens as I fight the emotion coating it, but it’s no use. Parker says nothing, allowing me to work through the things I’m thinking and feeling in this moment.

I exit the bedroom and head back to the main floor, stopping in the living room. I rarely ever spent time in here, often choosing to hole up in my bedroom over interacting with my parents. I wander through the rest of the main floor, seeing spots where we replaced the drywall because my dad had punched it, before I find myself standing before the basement stairs. My pulse quickens and my breathing becomes shallow, but I float down the stairs in a haze. Once I reach the bottom, my eyes sweep the area, as if the chair he kept down here would still be sitting imposingly in the corner. My throat feels like it’s closing as I take in the now nicely decorated space, my mind seeing it in its previous form.

It feels like the walls are closing in around me, tightly encasing me within. I can’t escape, my feet planted like roots into the ground. I can feel a bead of sweat trail down my spine as my breathing becomes frantic. My body convulses with how badly it’s shaking now, and I choke on my tears as I slap a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound of my sob.

“Lyla, are you okay?”

His voice is what it takes to break me out of the past and into the present. I blink a few times, clearing the remainder of my tears that had lingered there.

I need to get out of here.

My feet finally begin to move and I’m up and out of the house in a flash, gulping down the icy fresh air. The sweat coating my body quickly cools me in this temperature, and I continue to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. A hand gently lays itself on my lower back as I bend over and throw my guts up. Ghosts of the past torment me, their lingering energy causing me to violently shake as I empty everything but my memories.

Once the heaving stops, I’m tenderly picked up and the I’m wrapped in warmth as I’m put into the cab of the truck. Parker grasps my face, turning my head so I’m meeting his eyes, which are currently filled with concern.

“Give me the keys so I can lock up.”

I numbly hand them over and he closes the passenger door before darting back up to the house and locking the front door, checking it once before making his way back to the truck. He hops in and aggressively shuts his door before running his hands through his hair. He starts the vehicle after a moment and white knuckles the steering wheel as he backs out of the driveway.

“Where are we going? We’re supposed to stay here tonight.”

He grunts. “If you think we’re sleeping here, you’re insane.”

I sit in silence as he drives, waiting for him to speak because words were failing me.

Abruptly, Parker makes a turn into a park not five minutes from my mom’s house. He parks the truck in the nearly empty lot before turning to face me.

“Are you okay?” Is the first thing out of his mouth.

Slowly, I nod.

“I’m sorry, Lyla.” Parker’s voice breaks. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through. I’m sorry that he hurt you and I—”

He stops, scrubbing tears off of his face.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

I lay a hand on his arm and say, “Parker, we didn’t even know each other back then. You can’t think like that.”

He lets out a lifeless chuckle.

“I know.”

We sit there for a few minutes, saying nothing. And then—

“I’m here now, Lyla. And I’m here to keep you safe.”

As we finally exit onto the main road, I can’t help but wonder if he can save me from myself.