Unbroken (Murphy’s Law #4)

Chapter 1

ONE

Blakely

Two years (and a few weeks) ago

Staring down true evil changes a person. At least, it changed me. It was a swift and sudden change, and one that I was hopeless to fight once I learned evil like that existed in all its unyielding power.

It was jarring and harsh and relentless.

The type of evil that was reflected in my best friend’s eyes.

Or someone I once considered my best friend.

My heart leaped into my throat as I turned the corner into my bedroom. I staggered back several steps, my back hitting the doorframe leading into the bathroom.

“Hiya, Blakely,” Valerie murmured from across the room. She twirled a lock of her long, dark hair around her finger. Her other hand idly toyed with the gun on the side table. She sat in the chair like she was a fucking queen.

“What—”

“Am I doing here?” She finished for me. “Silly girl, you know what I’m doing here. ”

I’d expected to hear from her—it had been too long since her last threat. But I’d been prepared for a text or a phone call. She hadn’t shown up before.

She’d been biding her time, lying in wait. I didn’t know what she was preparing for, but I knew it wasn’t good.

I sucked in what little breath I could manage as she leaned forward.

“I have a little favor to ask. It’s just a small one, nothing major.”

Like my life depended on my staying still, I stood, unmoving, against the door. I didn’t want to watch her, but I worried if I took my eyes off her for even a second, she’d take the opportunity to do something even my inventive imagination couldn’t come up with.

The woman staring back at me barely resembled the person I thought was my best friend. But it had been years since I’d considered her as such.

“I’ll cut to the chase since this is literally the last place I want to be right now,” she continued, standing and lazily grabbing her gun as she surveyed my bedroom. She glanced at the photos on my dresser and side-eyed the books on my shelves. “Tonight, you’re going to break them up.”

“What—” Again, she cut me off with a sharp wave of her hand and a just as cutting glare.

“I wasn’t finished,” she seethed, and I pressed harder into the doorjamb. “I don’t care how you do it, and I honestly don’t want to know either. Just don’t tell them I’ve been here or that we’ve been…chatting. Just figure out a way to get him to leave that little bitch. Are we clear?”

She turned the gun over in her hand, pretending to inspect it, but we both knew it was a threat. A not-so-subtle one that was meant to remind me what she’d do if I didn’t wholeheartedly comply.

A reminder that I had no choice but to do exactly as she asked .

Which meant finding a way to ensure one of my best friends ended things with his new girlfriend. All because Valerie was a jealous ex-wife.

I hadn’t met Hazel yet, but from what I’d heard, she was great. Luke was absolutely fucking smitten, and in the ten years I’d known Luke, I’d never seen him that way before.

Even when he was married to Valerie. Which was the exact reason why I had to break them up.

Valerie and Luke were only married for a few months, and saying their relationship was toxic would be putting it mildly. She didn’t take kindly to the divorce and made his life hell. But after restraining orders and the possibility of criminal charges, it eventually happened. And for the most part, Valerie stayed away, too.

Until she found out I was sleeping with Luke. The second it started, we knew it was nothing permanent or serious. Luke was in a bad place, and I wanted to be there for him. It wasn’t my intention to fall into his bed—even the three total times it happened—and had I known the repercussions, I wouldn’t have done it at all.

Valerie went ballistic, and what she’d done to me…I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, let alone the sweet girl Luke had only just met.

“And if me showing up here isn’t motivation enough…” She slid her hand into her jacket pocket and produced her phone. A few quick taps on the screen, and my phone lit up across the room. She motioned to where it lay on the end of my bed, a silent invitation to retrieve it.

I took two steps and picked it up. A shiver, sharp and merciless, swept down my spine before I even unlocked my phone and saw the photo she’d sent.

A photo that should have and would have made me smile in any other context had it not been sent by the evil incarnate herself.

A woman I had come to love and respect, who treated me like a daughter, was lying in a hospital bed almost two hundred miles away. She wasn’t looking at the camera, which was angled into her room from the doorway. She was staring down at the crochet needle and yarn in her lap.

There was a lone light in the corner, and I could imagine the TV was probably on too. She enjoyed watching home renovation shows or reality TV while she crocheted.

My heart jolted at the new scarf she was wearing over her bald head. It was patterned with butterflies and colorful flowers, and I’d only gifted it to her two days earlier.

She was as happy and content as a person could be living in a hospital room and undergoing cancer treatment.

Except she was being stalked and used as leverage. Her life was hanging in the balance, and I was the one currently keeping it in place. One misstep or one wrong word was all it would take. And the world would be so much worse off without Shelly Graham in it.

Not to mention it would shatter my best friend’s heart.

“I hope that reaffirms how serious I am, Blakely,” she said, spinning toward my bedroom door. She pulled it open and stepped out, but not before calling over her shoulder, “Have a good night. I know you’ll do great!”

She left, but I didn’t move until I heard the front door close. Once it did, I slumped against the wall.

She was good, I’d give her that. She knew exactly where to hit me to really make it hurt.

Devon was my best friend. And his mom was amazing. She was like a second mother to me, and everything I wished my mother was.

She had been diagnosed with cancer while we were still in college and had been battling it off and on since. It’s been almost ten years since her first diagnosis.

And I couldn’t be the reason she didn’t see the next ten.

Valerie didn’t mince words. She meant what she said, and she said what she meant. Long gone were the days when I questioned if she would make good on her threats. She did. Maybe not immediately, but eventually she would.

Every. Single. Time.

I choked down the sob that tried to claw its way free as I tossed my phone down on my bed. When it unceremoniously bounced onto the floor instead, I didn’t pick it up. I stood, checked that my front door was locked, and walked into the bathroom. In the mirror, an unimpressive image looked back at me.

My eyes were vacant, encircled in darkness, and a stark contrast to my dull, pale complexion. My fingers brushed against my too-prominent cheekbones where there was usually a light dusting of pink. I’d lost weight since Valerie came back into my life, and it was weight I couldn’t have afforded to lose.

Panicked and on edge was my new default. The longer it went on, the easier it was to forget that the sword of Damocles hung precariously over my head.

Or that was at least the lie I told myself.

Rummaging through my makeup drawer, I pulled out the concealer I reserved for days when I needed the most coverage possible. It was helpful for when I needed to look like I wasn’t on the verge of completely losing it.

Friendsgiving any other year would have been cause for celebration. Our group of friends was tight. More like family than friends, really. We all met in college and have been virtually inseparable ever since.

They were my family, and normally, I couldn’t wait to spend time with them. But not this year.

I braced my hands on the porcelain sink and dropped my head between my shoulders.

I had to come up with a way to break Luke and Hazel up. Unfortunately, the only option I could think of was one that included telling them something I swore I would never tell another soul.

I knew Hazel wouldn’t care about the fact that I’d slept with her boyfriend so long ago, but maybe she would care—or should care—what Valerie did to me when I did.

Luke wasn’t going to give up easily either, but maybe the possibility of what happened to me also happening to Hazel…maybe it would be enough.

Straightening, I continued applying the concealer followed by a thicker powder. The rest of my makeup was essentially the same as it always was—a little bit of bronzer and mascara. But I added a muted red lip because I needed all the confidence I could muster for what I was about to do.

My stomach felt like it was trying to heave itself out of my body while I picked a simple, mostly black outfit. I didn’t have the brainpower to come up with something different.

I retrieved my phone from the floor and turned off all the lights while I gathered the other belongings I needed that were spread throughout my apartment. I was normally organized, but when one part of my life went downhill, the rest of it seemed to follow.

I had remembered to bake the pie, though. And when I pulled it off the counter where it had been cooling, the bottom of the pan was still warm to the touch.

With my hands full, I somehow managed to get downstairs and into my car with little issue. My usual routine was to find one of the several playlists I’d been curating and creating for years. Whichever one fit my mood the best. But there wasn’t a playlist for my mood. So, I started the car and drove to Luke’s house in silence.