Trent still hasn’t moved, and this is now beyond awkward. I don’t know why he’s acting the way he is. It didn’t sound like there was bad blood between them. Someone needs to do something. I step forward with a polite smile and extend my hand. “Hi, I’m Kacey.”

I feel my smile slide off as Trent’s mother’s face lightens five shades. She shuts her eyes and squeezes them shut as if she’s in pain. When they open again, they’re glistening with tears. She turns to Trent and swallows, her words barely above a whisper and full of anguish, “How could you, Cole!”

That name.

My heart stops beating altogether.

When it starts up again, it’s a slow, pounding, irregular rhythm. “What?” I croak. I turn to find Trent’s face twisted with dread and guilt but I still don’t get it. “What … why did she call you that, Trent?”

His eyes shine as his lips part to whisper, “I just wanted to make you happy again, Kacey. It’s the only way I can fix it.”

Stage Seven ~ Breakdown

Chapter Seventeen

I’m falling.

Falling backward into the deep, dark water. It’s pouring over me, into me, through my mouth, up my nose, filling my lungs, seizing my will to breathe, to live.

I accept it. I welcome it.

In the distance, I hear voices. I hear people calling my name, but I can’t find them. They’re safe, above water. In another world. The world of the living.

There’s no place for me there.

***

“When will she wake up?” I hear Livie ask above the soft rhythmic beeping. I’d heard enough of those machines in my day to recognize it for what it is—a hospital I.V. If that doesn't give me a hint of where I'm at, the sickly sterile hospital odor sure does.

“When her mind is ready,” an unfamiliar male voice explains. “Kacey has gone into severe psychological shock. Physically, she’s fine. We’re just ensuring her body stays hydrated and nourished. Now we have to wait.”

“Is this normal?”

“From what I understand, your sister suffered a traumatic experience four years ago and has never recovered emotionally from that.”

The voices stop long enough that I dare crack open my lids. White and yellow walls fill my hazy vision.

“Kacey!” Livie’s face appears suddenly. Her eyes are puffy and lined with dark rings, like she hasn’t slept in days, her cheeks red and blotchy from crying.

“Where am I?” I ask, my voice coming out raspy.

“A hospital.”

“How? Why?”

Livie’s mouth falls open for a second before she pulls it closed again, trying to act calm. For my benefit. I know that. I know my Livie. Always so selfless. Always so caring. “You’re going to be fine, Kacey.” Her hands fumble with my blankets to find my fingers. She squeezes. “You’re going to get help. I’ll never let Trent hurt you again.”

Trent. That name attacks my body like a thousand pin pricks. I jolt in response.

Trent is Cole.

Trent destroyed my life. Twice.

Suddenly, I’m gasping for air, the reality squeezing my lungs like a vice. “How …” I start to say but I can’t speak because I can’t breathe. How is Trent, Cole? How did he find me? Why did he find me?

“Breathe, Kacey.” Livie tightens her grip on me, crawling in to lie down beside me and I realize I’m hyperventilating.

“I can’t, Livie.” I cry out, tears burning my cheeks. “I’m drowning.”

Her sobs fill the room.

He knew. All that time he pretended to be caring and sympathetic and unaware of my past, he is the cause of my past. It was his car, his friend, his drunken night that stole my life from me.

“It’s okay, Kacey. You’re safe.” Livie’s arms hug my body to hers, her weight resting against me to stop my body from shaking.

We stay like that for minutes. Hours. A life time. I don’t know. Nothing changes. Nothing until Storm crashes into the hospital room, panting as if she’s just run a marathon, a wildness in her eyes like I’d never seen before. “I know, Kacey. I know what happened to you. I know everything, now.” Tears spill out over her cheeks. She climbs into the other side of my bed and grabs hold of my hands. The three of us lay like sardines.

Tangled, sobbing sardines.

***

A hissing sound …

Bright lights …

Blood …

Trent’s beautiful face, his hands on the steering wheel.

Pointing at me.

Laughing.

“Kacey!” Something sharp smacks my face. “Wake up!”

I’m still screaming, even as Livie’s bulging eyes comes into focus front of me, and the machines around me. A sharp sting bites my cheek. I raise my hand to test it out.

“I’m sorry I had to slap you, but you wouldn’t stop screaming,” Livie explains through her tears.

The nightmares are back, only they’re worse. A million times worse.

“You won’t stop screaming, Kacey. You need to stop.” Livie sucks in a sharp sob as she curls up in my bed beside me and begins to rock, muttering to herself, “Please help her. God, please help her.”

***

“Which hospital is this, again?” I’ve been here two days now and Storm and Livie haven’t left my bed except to use the bathroom or get water and food.

Storm and Livie share a long, edgy glance. “A specialized one.” Livie says slowly.

“In Chicago,” Storm adds, setting her chin up a notch.

“What?” My voice gathers more strength behind it than I thought possible. I struggle to sit up in bed. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.

Livie rushes to add, “There’s a P.T.S.D. clinic nearby. It’s supposed to be the best in the country.”

“Well … what … how …” I finally pull myself upright with the help of the bedrails. “Since when does public health cover the best P.T.S.D. clinic in the country?”

“Calm down, Kacey.” Storm gently pushes me back down into a lying position. I don’t have the strength to fight her.

“Uh, no, I can’t calm down. We can’t pay for this …” I fumble with my I.V., cursing to myself.

“What’re you doing?” Livie asks, panic in her voice.

“Ripping this damn thing out of my arm and getting the hell out of this swanky cuckoo nest.” I swat her hand away as she tries to stop me. “What’s it costing, huh? Five thousand per night? Ten?”

“Shhh, don’t worry about that, Kace.” Storm smooths my hair.

It’s her turn to get a hand swat. “Someone has to worry about it! What the hell am I going to do? Take up permanent residence at Penny’s V.I.P. room wearing nothing but knee pads so I can pay the bill!”

“I see our patient is awake?” The unfamiliar soft voice from before interrupts, and stalls my fit. I turn to see a decent looking older man with a receding hair line and kind charcoal eyes hold his hand out toward me. I hadn’t even heard him come in. “Hello, I’m Dr. Stayner.” I glare at that hand like it’s covered in spots and oozing puss until he pulls it back. “Yes, that’s right. Your issue with hands.”

My issue with hands? I scowl at Livie and she averts her gaze.

If any of this bothers the doctor, I can’t tell. “Kacey. Your case was brought to me by—”