Page 50 of Fractured

“Actually, hold on. I’ll be right back.” I headed straight for the kitchen and tossed my keys in a decorative bowl on the counter and grabbed a bottle of amber liquor from the cabinet. I didn’t drink this type of hard alcohol often, but I needed something a little extra right now.

And if I was lucky, it would dull the serrated edges of my anguish.

Had I been this upset when my dad died? I must have been, but all of these emotions felt new. Or maybe I was experiencing death through a different lens as an adult.

Regardless, I couldn’t dwell on that now. I had other, more important things to do.

Such as share my life story with four stunningly gorgeous men who might very well walk out the door before my story was told.

I chugged two healthy gulps from the bottle, twisted the cap back on and held it in my hands for a few moments. Once I felt the burning in my lungs and the heat racing through my veins, I put it back in the cabinet and closed the door softly.

Strong, steady hands cupped my shoulders, and I turned to find Ambrose looking down at me with so much love in his eyes, I knew it wasn’t a trick of my mind.

“Take a deep breath. Let it out slowly.” I did as he instructed and felt instantly better. “That’s my girl. Whatever you want to share with us, we’ll all listen. We’re in this together.”

Oh, God. How I wished that were true. He just thought I was struggling with losing a close friend. Not that I was about to unload all my shit at their feet and essentially give them an ultimatum.

I shivered. “You can’t promise that. You barely know me. And you know them even less.”

He shook his head and gave me a wry, heart-stopping smile, his full lips taunting me with their sensuality. If I kissed him, I could put off this inevitable conversation for just a bit longer.

No, I needed to do this now and stop stalling.

“I know more than you think. I’d like to think I’m a great judge of character. Each man in your living room has something special, and I’ve vetted them more than you realize. Don’t worry about us. Let us worry about you.”

His conviction rolled over me like the warmest honey. Sighing, I gestured toward the guys. “Okay. Let’s get back to them so I can do this before I chicken out.”

Ambrose tilted my face up as he bent down to give me a gentle kiss. The soft brush of lips grounded me, reminding me of all our ridiculous conversations, and for some strange reason, brought all of our good memories together to the forefront of my mind.

“Is that better?”

It was. I was more settled right now than I’d been all day.

“I’m ready.”

Linking his fingers with mine, Ambrose walked me back to the living room.

He took his seat back, and I went to stand in front of the coffee table, just like before, but this time, I was grounded from his kiss and warm from the liquor.

One steadying exhale later, I relaxed my hands by my side and dove into hopefully the only time I’d ever have to share so much of myself.

“My whole life, my biggest fear was that I would one day be crazy. It was so consuming, I planned my life choices around the probability. And I say probability, instead of possibility, because of my parents.” I took a deep breath.

“My mother is a current resident of Bright Path Psychiatric Hospital. And not for some light and fluffy reason. She’s there as a sentence for…” I sucked in my bottom lip and pressed my fist to my stomach.

Could I really do this? And if I did, would they look at me differently?

It just might destroy me if they did.

“Go on,” Atticus urged.

If anyone would understand, it would be Atticus. He had his own set of issues and never made me feel less for mine. Keeping my gaze locked to his dark hazel eyes, I blurted out something I’d never freely shared.

“She murdered a boy in our neighborhood. It—She wasn’t in her right mind. Looking back, she never was. And for whatever reason, her participation in her hallucinations turned violent.”

There was so much more to tell, but this was the worst of it. If they could stay through this part of the story, we might have a chance. I held onto that fragile string with all of my strength.

Ice slithered down my spine as I paused then and waited.

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