Page 29 of Fractured

“So, Atticus. Since this is the first I’m hearing about you, how did you two meet?”

Atticus and I still had our gazes locked together, and at Ambrose’s question, we both busted up laughing.

“I take it, it’s a good story?” Ambrose got a plain glazed donut from the box while he waited for us to compose ourselves.

“It’s not really a story, but more like how I led the conversation.” He squinted at Ambrose, then seemed to come to a decision. “I asked her what her phobia was. You see, I see a psychologist every other week for a phobia, and since I bumped into her as I was leaving, I assumed she had one too. Turns out, my psychologist is her best friend.” He glanced at me fondly before selecting a chocolate covered donut for himself.

“To be fair, I see her as a psychologist too, just at a best friend’s rate,” I admitted, and it felt really good just to say it. The desire to tell these men more sat on the tip of my tongue, but I was still so nervous I’d scare them away with the whole truth. So I settled for something less shocking. Maybe. Depending on how deeply they looked into it. “After we talked, Atticus, I think I actually do have a phobia. I’m deathly afraid of going crazy.”

Atticus took my hand and squeezed it comfortingly, and Ambrose sent me a concerned look. “Just because?” he probed.

“Family history. It’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop most days.” I cataloged each minute movement in their facial expressions and body language to see if they were going to think I was already crazy, but there was nothing other than understanding and concern.

Sighing in relief, I grabbed a jelly donut and sat back.

Suddenly, everything came into perspective. Meeting these men, being able to share bits of myself that felt locked away from the light for far too long, was the most liberating feeling in the world. Now I hoped I could keep my fear as a phobia. If it ever came to reality, I’d lose all of their acceptance, because normal, good people didn’t stick by crazy people who were like heavy anchors manacled on their ankles.

* * *

I strolledinto Randolf’s with a newfound sense of purpose, ready to face the day and conquer the shit out of it. The parking lot was almost full, which was odd so early in the day. Our group rehearsal wasn’t until two this afternoon.

Annie was just coming out as I opened the door. Tears streamed down her face as she dabbed them with a tissue, not realizing I blocked her way.

“Annie?” I waved a hand in front of her face. “What’s going on?”

When she looked at me, it was like she barely saw me. “The others inside can tell you.” Then she scurried through the rows until she stopped at her car, her shoulders shaking as she leaned on the top of it.

I was just getting to a good place, despite all the shit going on around me. If I didn’t think it would make me a bad person, I’d tuck tail and run back to my car and let whatever was going on settle before rehearsal.

But I couldn’t do that.

Straightening my back, I held my head high and walked inside. There was a melancholy vibe so thick, it was hard to walk deeper into the building. Crying was coming from every corner of the studio, and my nails cut into my palm as I gripped my case tighter.

No, whatever was going on right now, I didn’t want any part of it. None.

I backed up a few steps until my back pressed against the wall. Squeezing my eyes, I thought of my morning, of how much fun I’d had with Atticus and Ambrose. Atticus helped me feel less crazy by embracing his own mental issues. Ambrose kept me in the present. I needed them right now. After breakfast, Atticus had given me a soft kiss to the forehead, and Ambrose gave me a kiss so scorching hot, my toes curled. And right in front of Atticus, who had simply smiled ruefully and waved as he’d walked to his car.

With everything going on, in the back of my mind, I worried I was forming unhealthy attachments to these men because I needed people to be in my corner. But I felt a legitimate connection with each man.

I’d had fun with Kenzo when I couldn’t find anything fun about life anymore. Hell, Saint had made me feel sexy, all while telling me to essentially take better care of myself. The studio was breaking, and I still wanted to smile at the conversation I’d had with Saint.

“Lilith, did you hear?” I opened my eyes in barely enough time to see Thea, one of the older members, throw her arms around me. Lifting one arm to return her embrace, I focused on the lilac smell in her hair rather than the wetness transferring from her face to my neck. It was safer that way.

“N—no,” I croaked out.Please don’t tell me, I pleaded to myself. But that was a hopeless endeavor.

“It’s Randolf. He’s—he—he was taken to the hospital last night. Passed out. Luckily, his niece found him and got him to the doctors right away. He had a heart attack. If she’d been even a few minutes later, we would have all lost him.” She cried harder into my shoulder, her fingers biting into my back, even as she tugged on my shirt.

This was worse than any news I could have received. I would have rather heard the doors were closing than anything like this. Randolf was like a favorite uncle who was a little cooky but wanted the very best for you.

“But he’s okay?” Emotion clogged my throat. It was like each tear that leaked from my eyes took a little bit of my strength with it. So much so, that I eventually dropped my arm from around Thea. She wasn’t plussed about it, still holding onto me as if I were a lifeline.

“He’s okay. They took him into emergency surgery, and something about a heart stent. I don’t know all the details, but I know he’s okay.” Thea pulled back, her lightly graying hair now a frizzy mess, and the whites of her eyes completely pink from crying. “And he’s going to be okay. He’s too young to die.”

He was too young to die. Too young to die.

Eli was also too young to die.

That sweet little boy who liked to carry little sandwich bags of blueberries around with him. What I did know of him was that he was polite and always played in his front yard, sometimes alone, sometimes with his older brother.

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