ABBY Read online

  Abby

  Kindle Edition

  A novel by LK Collins

  Cover Design by Prezident Collins

  Edited by Lisa Christman, Adept Edits

  Formatting by Paul Salvette, BB eBooks

  Photography by honored

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  “Placing the cold, black steel to my temple, I am reassured knowing that this…is the only way…”

  – Latch

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Epigraph

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Follow LK Collins

  Other Books by LK

  For Abby…

  With the cold, black steel placed against my temple, my world spins. Everything that I thought I had, or was going to have, is gone. Stolen from me in the blink of an eye. Now, here I sit screwed over by the universe and stuffed into a fucking corner so far back that I can’t see straight to find my way out. The only logic that I can conjure is pulling the trigger, and the voices inside my head are screaming at me so loud to just do it. They won’t give me a second of respite, and the relentless agony has my whole body shaking. I just want it to the end, the pain, the fear – everything – I want it all to stop.

  “Latch, what are you doing?” My grandmother, Maris, is standing in the doorway of my home, paralyzed with fear.

  The tears flow faster with our eyes connected. I hate that she is seeing me like this. At my lowest point, with a gun imbedded against my temple. The brutal pressure of the muzzle on my temple sends pain to my eyes. Being in this place is terrifying, and I can’t seem to fathom how to get out of it. I’ve always wondered how my life would end. Panicking, savoring my last few breaths, I see now this is how. This must be my destiny…

  “Latch, please put the gun down.” I shake my head, her silhouette blurs out of focus, and my heart stammers knowing I’m going to have to do this in front of her – it’s my only chance before she stops me.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her, my throat closing as I take in my last inhale. Her innocent frame stands completely shocked – frozen – and I pull my eyes away from her, looking at the picture of me and Abby for one last time.

  “I love you, baby.” I run my finger over the image and begin to squeeze back on the trigger. Waiting for my life to end.

  “Abby’s alive!” she screams. Immediately I let up on the pressure and look at her, trying to focus on what she just said. The gun drops to my side like a lead weight and the panic I was suffocating under is momentarily lifted as I process her words. What? No, no fucking way! “Don’t lie to me; just let me go. I need to be with her.” Inside of me there is a demon, tearing my insides apart, slowly killing me as despair and hopelessness reclaim their positions stealing my grasp on reality.

  “I’m not!”

  “No, it’s not possible!” I shake my head, fighting to ignore the voices. “I heard you on the phone.” She’s just fuckin’ with me, lying to me, doing anything she can to stop me in this moment.

  “Please, give me the gun. I promise she’s okay.”

  I shake my head, placing the barrel of the gun back against my skull and sob, not believing her. I want to trust her words, more than anything. But I can’t. The noise in my head is loud, plaguing me, telling me to just end it all…right now. “I heard them call code blue and…and saw her after the accident, she couldn’t have—” Vomit rises to the back of my throat, and I gag imagining her the way she was. Covering my mouth with my hand, my head is spinning going back to that place, with those horrible images.

  My grandma is next to me and without me noticing she places her hand on the gun and turns it away from my head. Exhausted, I let her, no longer able to fight. Looking into her eyes, I have no idea how I got here or what to do. Leaning against her as she sits down, I am numb. She takes the gun and with hesitation, I let it go. A wave of hope ignites inside of me, imagining that Abby is really still alive. She sets the gun far away from us on the edge of the table and then wraps her arms around me, holding me tightly. I weep into her like a child, wallowing in the pain that blazes through me.

  “Shhhhh,” she says, rocking me back and forth. “Everything is going to be okay.”

  I soak in her words, trying to believe her. Wanting it more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Then it hits me. If Abby is alive, I have to get to her. “Can I see her?” I ask my grandma.

  “They just took her back for surgery, but after, I’m sure you can, baby.”

  Releasing the grip I have on her, I pick the picture up and remove it from the mangled frame. “Let’s go,” I tell her, standing, and she stares at me confused. She’s worried – hell, I am too. However, my brain is on Abby. I need to get to her.

  “There’s no rush, Latch. It’ll take some time for the surgery – hours I heard the doctors say. Right now, I’m really worried about you.”

  Running my fingers through my hair, I look down at Abby’s picture. Her light eyes rock my soul and it pulls me to her. “I…I have to be with her.” I shake my head anxiously and place the picture in my pocket.

  “I understand, but you were just about to kill yourself,” she shrieks.

  “And if Abby dies, I’ll fuckin’ do it in a heartbeat,” I snap, and she jolts back, speechless. “Are you coming or not?” I retort. My hand is on the doorknob and she gets up, taking the gun and placing it in her purse.

  “What kind of surgery?” I ask her as I look for a cab to hail, on a mission to get to Abby.

  “To stop the internal bleeding. I think that’s what caused her to flat line earlier.” Clearly, she is worried. I can tell by her tone, but right now, I’m not myself. “Come on, Latch,” she pleads and I turn to see her standing at her car.

  As I get inside, I look down at myself, still covered in Abby’s blood. “What other injuries does she have?”

  “I’m not sure, sweetheart. No one has talked to me directly; it’s all been chaos and hearsay.”

  Glancing at her, I can see the agony on her face, and I feel terrible for doing this to her. But I didn’t have another choice. I lost control.

  “And the baby?”

  “I don’t know, Latch,” she whimpers, her voice so broken as tears are running down her cheeks, and I clam up, knowing that I need to just stay quiet. I’ve done enough damage for the day.

  Imagining what Abby has been through is almost unbearable, making my whole body shiver. Then my mind goes to the tiny life inside of her and I begin to pray that if she is alive, our baby is too. God isn’t that cruel. He wouldn’t take our baby, the pain of my thoughts cause me to start to weep, struggling to get air in my lungs.

  My mind plays games on me, leaping from one place to another. From Abby’s screams, to the collision, to her lying on the pavement of the highway so helpless, to just wanting to end it all. And somehow, through all of that, there is a glimmer of hope and I’m holding on to it, because it’s all I have right now.

  In a perfect world, I would have them both by my side riding off into the sunset together, but in my fucked up world things are far from perfect. I learned a long time ago that for Abby and I, things never come easily. Just when we got into the flow of what felt like a new life for both of us, it all came crashing down like a ton of bricks. How did I let Darrell cause the suffering we’re going through now?

  “Here,” my grandma says, waking me up. I blink a few times, taking in the hospital waiting room, as she hands me a cup of coffee.

  “What time is it?”

  “A little after two in the morning,” she says, and I rest my head back on the cold wall, fighting the fatigue and head to toe exhaustion. Staring up at the white, paneled ceiling, my heart is pounding profusely, so fast I can feel it in my throat. Why the fuck hasn’t anyone come and talked to us yet? My mind spins: fear, anxiety, worry, and anger in a way that I never dreamed could be possible on a loop of constant torment.

  “Drink up, baby,” my grandma says, and I take a small sip, not sure how much longer I can handle this.

  “I think I’m gonna—”

  “Are you the family of Abby McEllrath?” A doctor cuts me off, emerging
through a set of double doors. Hearing him speak her name makes me almost crawl out of my skin in fear. “Yeah, that’s us,” I respond quickly and run towards him. He looks down at my blood-stained clothes before proceeding. There is a look of remorse as he pauses and I cringe my teeth not even able to blink, so fucking terrified that she didn’t make it.

  “Please just tell us – is she alive?”

  “Yes, Abby’s alive, sir. She pulled through the surgery quite well. She’s lost a lot of blood due to the internal bleeding, but we stopped it in time. She also has a large hematoma on her right thigh, a broken collarbone, separated shoulder, and has some minor swelling of her brain. But all in all she’s a very lucky girl, and I’m happy with how things have gone. She’s resting now in the ICU. We have her sedated until we know her condition is stable and the swelling has gone down, then we’ll allow her to wake slowly.”

  I swallow hard, feeling relief run through my body, but still I have to know about our child and am afraid to ask, “And the baby?”

  “I’m awfully sorry to say this, but we couldn’t find a heartbeat for the baby upon arrival. I’m afraid to say, he didn’t survive beyond the accident.”

  I hear his words, but I don’t believe him…I can’t. “He?” I ask.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Why?” I whisper.

  “The trauma she suffered was tremendous, at this point, we’re lucky Abby pulled through.”

  “Where is he?”

  “We performed an emergency C-section in hopes we could save him, but I’m afraid it was far too late.” I drop to my knees, the hot cup of coffee splashes and burns my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the pain rushing through my body. How am I supposed to tell Abby our son didn’t make it?

  Resting my chin on the side of Abby’s bed, I fight to keep my eyes open. I haven’t slept in days, minus nodding off when I physically just can’t stay awake any longer. I’m scared to give in. Afraid that if I fall sleep, Abby will wake up, or move, or do something that I’ll miss, and right now, I need her back. More than I’ve ever needed anything in my life. I already lost our son; I can’t lose her too.

  The doctors started weaning her off the sedation this morning and hoped by this afternoon, we’d have her back…but still nothing. And here I sit, feeling anxious and scared that maybe she’s never coming back to me and that’s not something I can live with. I already went through the motions of losing her once. If something happens and she never comes back, I’ll lose my fucking mind and end up in a room right next to her.

  “I really wish you’d take care of yourself. You’re not going to be any help to Abby when she wakes up in the condition you’re in,” my grandmother says. I glance at her for a brief second, but it hurts too much to take my eyes off Abby.

  “I’ll be fine, Grandma, but thank you.” I blink heavily as I speak, exhaustion running through my bones, and the flat tone of my voice doesn’t help me to reassure her.

  “Latch, please,” she begs me. “You’re falling asleep sitting here. It’s been days and you are still wearing the same clothes, all blood-stained…would you just think about what’s best for Abby?”

  I don’t have the energy to argue. To be honest, I don’t have the energy to do anything. I barely have the strength to keep my head up. “Abby won’t care what I’m wearing.”

  “What about the…” baby? she mouths to me. “Don’t put that on her.”

  My grandma’s words hit home. She keeps wanting me to make a choice. But to decide alone whether our son, who weighed only six ounces, should be cremated or buried, is not something I can fucking do right now. Not without Abby. She’ll wake up; she has to.

  I look down at Abby’s soft hand in the grip of mine and strum my fingers on the inside of her palm.

  My grandmother moves her chair next to me and says, “I don’t know how to help you.”

  I shrug my shoulders, my chin still resting on the railing of her bed. I’m not sure what to tell her; I can’t even help myself.

  “Latch, I’m worried about you.”

  “Me too!”

  “I’m being serious.”

  Sitting up for the first time in hours, my back stings. “What do you want from me?”

  “You need to talk about what happened. How you’re feeling. I know a great doctor that can—”

  “No! No! No!” I say firmly, cutting her off. “Not in front of Abby.”

  “Why not? She needs to know everything. Are you even going to tell her?”

  I turn and look her in the eye, my blood boiling. I don’t like how she is pushing me, trying to force me to talk about things in front of Abby. “I don’t have the slightest fucking clue what I am going to do. But right now, I’m not going to leave Abby, and I’m also not going to upset her by talking about what happened.”

  She blinks, a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

  Goddammit!

  I never want to upset her, but what she’s asking of me, I can’t do. “I’m sorry,” I whisper and she leaves with quiet disappointment and frustration.

  My eyes are heavy again, but then Abby’s hand moves a little in mine. This is the first time she has moved.

  “Baby?” I ask her, needing her to know I am right here. Her face is still. She’s the same way she’s been since the accident. Maybe she didn’t move and I just thought I felt her. Then her fingers tick against my hand and I search her face for more, leaning over, praying this is her coming back to me. “I’m right here, baby. Can you hear me?”

  Right now, I want nothing more than for her to just wake up, but deep down, I have this sickening feeling that she won’t. That she’s always going to be this way. Tears pool in my eyes when she doesn’t respond to me and I rest my head against hers, asking God to please bring her back to me.

  Waking up pissed at myself for dozing off, I take in the room. Abby still hasn’t woken up and my Grandma hasn’t returned. “Glad to see you got some rest,” Abby’s nurse says, checking her vitals.

  I rub my eyes and nod my head. “Any change?”

  “No, she’s still resting. She’ll wake on her own time.”

  I look at the clock; it’s three in the afternoon. I’ve slept for a few hours. My stomach growls, but I ignore it. I’m sure my grandma will bring me something to eat soon like she has been for days. Abby’s hands are dry and I stand, grabbing the lotion from the table next to me. “Is there anything else I should be doing?” I ask the nurse and squirt some into my palm.

  “No, you’re doing everything you should.” I warm it between my hands and then rub it on her, taking my time as I massage it into her skin. “Have you made a decision, regarding what we talked about?” I shake my head, feeling sick, knowing she is referring to our son. Imagining him gone almost sends me into a rage.

  Clearing my throat, I ask her, “Can we give it just another day? She has to wake up.”

  “Of course,” the nurse responds and turns to leave the room. She stops at the door and looks back at me. “If you want, I can get you some scrubs to change into.”

  I look down at myself, knowing that I am being ridiculous for still wearing my old clothes, but changing would involve leaving Abby for longer than I’m willing. Just using the bathroom about kills me every time. “Thanks, but I have a change,” which is a lie. My grandma offered to get me some clothes, but I refused, just like I have everything else lately. Lowering the bar on the bed, I lean over her, close to her face, smelling her sweetness. “Baby?” But still nothing and it hurts me deep in my body. I wish I could get into bed with her, to have her as close to me as possible. Even if she couldn’t feel me, it would make me feel better. But I won’t until she’s awake.

  “Baby,” I whisper and wait for her response, like I always do. The doctors told me to talk to her as much as possible, but doing it while pretending like everything is normal is hard for me.

  “I was thinking when you get out of here, we could take a trip to Connecticut. It was so peaceful there. We could stay at Jeremy’s house and watch the waves all day.” I smile knowing if she were awake, she’d have us in the car today and heading up there.

  If being with Abby has taught me anything, it’s to enjoy the small things. Life is far too precious to do anything but that. Like the simplicity of her lips against mine or the way her laugh would fill the room. Both I miss terribly.