Unbroken (The Disclosure Series Book 2) Read online

  She gripped the bottom of the steering wheel with her left hand as she bent down, sweeping her right hand over the floorboards. “Hang on, babe!” She kept her eyes trained on the road ahead as she continued to feel around. When the pads of her fingers brushed the hard edge of the phone, she extended her arm, stretching as far as she could until she was able to wrap her hand around it. “Ah! I got it!”

  But as soon as she looked up, bright and blinding headlights were barreling toward her. It was too late to react, to move. Her heart leapt in her chest, adrenaline pulsing through her veins, relaxing her body and readying her for impact. Everything moved in slow motion, tires screeching and metal crunching, her head snapping back as her body absorbed the first shocks of the collision. And then she was weightless, flying—flashes of light illuminating the shattered glass raining down upon her until she was swallowed in darkness.

  Droplets of rain splashed against the darkened window as Luke paced the waiting room, his shoes making a loud, wet shrill every time his foot came down against the tiled floor. His eyes were wild, his hair sticking up haphazardly after running his hand through it one too many times. “Why haven’t we heard anything?” he asked, the desperation in his voice so strong, he barely recognized it as his own.

  He fought off the growing feeling of dread clouding him as a memory racked his brain, ripping him wide open.

  “Embry? Embry!” Fear, stark and vivid, took him over as he shouted into the phone. He held it up in front of him, seeing that the line had gone dead. “No! No, no, no, no, no.”

  He hit redial and a false busy assaulted his eardrums.

  “Fuck!” His voice cracked, panic taking over.

  She’d dropped her phone; that was the last thing he’d heard. But then there was a screeching in the background, tires against asphalt, before a soul-shattering crash reverberated through the phone.

  A warm hand on his pulled him from his thoughts, silencing the horrific sounds echoing through his ears.

  “Luke.” Morgan grabbed him by the arm, pulling him into the seat next to her. She looked exhausted, her eyes red and puffy from crying. “You need to breathe.”

  His chest heaved with effort as he forced air in and out of his lungs, trying to calm himself down. He knew it wouldn’t do any good, making himself crazy, bullying the hospital staff until he got some word on Embry, but he couldn’t help himself. It was a distraction. He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t think about the alternative. He stared at Embry’s best friend, the emotion in her eyes nearly breaking him all over again, and he shot up from his seat and began pacing again.

  He’d been out in the rain for over an hour, scouring the back roads near the law school, searching for Embry but finding nothing. Morgan had called around to every local hospital, checking back in every twenty minutes until she’d finally found her. Then she’d phoned Embry’s parents while she and Luke had rushed to Bay General to wait.

  All they knew was that Embry’s car had been found in a ditch on the side of the road, upside down, the front end damaged pretty bad. She’d worn her seatbelt, thank God, or she’d have been ejected from the vehicle. They’d been told she was unconscious when she was brought in and rushed into emergency surgery.

  The hospital had a strict policy, and they refused to update Luke and Morgan on her condition until her parents arrived. So, Luke was left to his pacing.

  Morgan reached for his hand again, this time giving a stern tug. “Hey. Sit down.” She looked up at him, her brown eyes pleading. “Her parents are on the way. We’ll get more information as soon as they arrive. Please, just try to stay calm?”

  “How am I supposed to stay calm, Morgan?” Every fiber in his being told him to run, to fight, to do… something. He felt completely and utterly helpless.

  She shrugged half-heartedly, her sad eyes clinging to his for support. “I don’t know. But please, Luke, you’re making me more nervous.”

  “Okay.” He sat down beside her, grasping her hand in his and holding onto her for dear life. She was his only connection to Embry, his lifeline. And he needed her as much as she needed him.

  She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “She loves you so much, you know.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I know.” A small smile came to his lips. “About half as much as she loves you.”

  Morgan chuckled, but it was an empty sound.

  “Luke? Morgan?” Celia Jacobs choked out their names as she came rushing into the waiting room, flanked by Embry’s father, Dean.

  Morgan shot up and threw her arms around Celia, a mess of tears streaming down their faces. Luke stood unsteadily, nodding somberly toward Mr. Jacobs. He stuck his hand out for a shake and Dean Jacobs took it, pulling him roughly into a fatherly hug. A shudder racked Luke’s body, and he fought the urge to completely fall apart. He pulled away, clearing his throat.

  Dean studied him with the same green eyes as Embry. She was the spitting image of her father—a much more feminine version. But she looked so much like him that it intensified the ache in his chest, turning it into a deep, searing pain just looking at him.

  Celia untangled herself from Morgan and looked up to Luke, eyes bright with tears. “What happened, Luke? Tell us everything.”

  He sucked in a steadying breath and, choking back his emotions, told her parents what he knew. “They refuse to give us any more information. Now that you’re here, hopefully that’ll change.”

  Dean nodded and headed off toward the nurses station as Morgan and Celia crumpled into two seats in a heap of tears, leaving Luke to his pacing.

  And so he paced.

  He walked back and forth, tearing a path across the tile, his brain going through the painstaking process of piecing together the last few hours, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong, what he could’ve done differently. Could dropping her cell phone have caused the accident? Had she taken her eyes from the road? Swerved and hit something?

  But, no. The paramedics had said the front of her car had taken the most damage. An impact like that, she would’ve had to hit another car, or a telephone pole, and apparently there had been no damage to any of the poles in the area. The road had been deserted except for her car lying upside down in a ditch. There had been no one else at the scene.

  So what then? Who?

  His fists clenched automatically, red slowly seeping into the edge of his vision at the thought of someone doing this, causing this, and then fleeing the scene. He tried to shake away the thought, but it was persistent. Someone had left her for dead. Rage, anger, sadness, helplessness all swept through him, swirling together in the perfect storm, and he needed an outlet, a direction. He had no idea how worried he needed to be. If he should be praying, grieving. If she was lying open on an operating table somewhere, fighting for her life, or was the life bleeding out of her this very moment?

  Despite Morgan’s presence, despite Embry’s own parents, he was alone, the only person that mattered, his person, was slipping through his fingers.

  A hand on Luke’s arm jarred him, and he looked up to find Dean, Celia and Morgan standing beside him, their eyes trained on a man in hospital scrubs walking slowly toward them.

  “Are you Embry Jacobs’ family?”

  They all nodded numbly, and Luke steeled himself for whatever news he was about to hear.

  “She’s all right,” he said gently, holding up his hands as if sensing they were all on the edge of a complete breakdown.

  At ‘all right’, Luke’s knees buckled and he sagged in relief, the breath whooshing out of his lungs so fast that his head swayed slightly. Morgan and Celia held onto each other while Dean placed a steadying hand on Luke’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit or Dean’s.

  The doctor continued. “She was in a fairly serious accident from what we’re told, and she came in pretty banged up. She suffered a few broken ribs on the left side. One of the ribs punctured her spleen, causing it to bleed into her abdomen, which required emergency surgery.”


  Luke nodded along as the doctor continued to explain, but his thoughts were far away. Knowing that Embry would be okay had no impact on him, he was too busy thinking about her injuries, about the pain she must’ve been in, would be in, and the fact that he was helpless to do anything at all.

  Why couldn’t it have been him? Why his beautiful girl? He’d gladly go through the pain and trauma so that she didn’t have to.

  “We transfused her and were able to remove the spleen laparoscopically. We’re wheeling her into recovery now, and we’ll monitor her post-op while she comes out of anesthesia. So far it doesn’t look as if there’ll be any complications.”

  The doctor eyed Embry’s parents. “Sir, Ma’am, if you’d like, you can come with me and see her as soon as she wakes up.” Dean and Celia nodded emphatically, then turned back to Luke and Morgan. Celia grabbed Luke’s hand, then reached up to pat his cheek. “We’ll come get you as soon as she’s awake. She’ll be asking for you.”

  He forced a smile and nodded. “Tell her I love her.”

  Dean clapped him on the arm. “You’ll tell her yourself soon enough, son.”

  Luke sat back in the hard, plastic seat beside Morgan as Embry’s parents followed the doctor down the hallway. He was lost in his thoughts when Brett came rushing in. Morgan fell into his arms, sobbing.

  “I’m so sorry. I got here as soon as I could.” Brett rubbed Morgan’s back, gently soothing her and trying to calm her. When that didn’t work, his pained eyes found Luke’s. “How is she, man?”

  Luke shrugged weakly. “She’ll be all right.”

  He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to think, didn’t want to feel. He just wanted—needed—Embry. Needed to see her, touch her, feel her warm skin beneath his fingers, see her jade green eyes fluttering open to know, believe, that she was really okay.

  Heavy footsteps echoed off the tiled floor as two uniformed police officers walked into the waiting room. Morgan had settled down by then, and she and Brett sat next to Luke as the officers approached.

  “Are you friends of Embry Jacobs?”

  All three nodded and Morgan spoke up. “W—we’re her best friends,” she said, gesturing between herself and Brett, “and this is her boyfriend.”

  Luke looked up at them, eyes bloodshot and weary. “Have you found anything, officers?”

  “Do either of you known anyone who drives a light blue vehicle?”

  Morgan and Brett shook their heads immediately, while Luke racked his brain, wondering why it sounded so familiar.

  He looked up at the policemen in question.

  “There were a few witnesses in the area, and from their accounts, whoever drove your girlfriend off the road…”

  Fuck…

  The officer’s words faded into the background as it all came together in Luke’s head in a moment of heartbreaking, soul-shattering clarity.

  Light blue car…

  Drove your girlfriend off the road…

  This entire time he’d thought maybe it was some kind of freak accident, or worst case scenario, a drunk driver. But the thought had never crossed his mind that it had been deliberate, intentional—that someone would go out of their way to physically harm Embry. He’d thought that after everything they’d been through, it was just bad luck, wrong place, wrong time, the universe working against them like Embry’d said. His heart broke a little more as he remembered her words. But then a different memory entirely filled his head and his heart nearly pounded out of his chest.

  A terrifying realization crashed through him as an image played in his head clear as day—Sydney stepping out of a light blue, hard-top convertible, pure evil filling her to the root of her soul.

  The steel weight of guilt nearly crushed him as a strangled cry clawed its way up his throat. But he tamped it down, swallowing thickly and sucking in a breath before leveling his eyes on the officers in front of him and expelling her name like a curse.

  “Sydney Chase.”

  Luke walked back into the waiting room, shoulders hunched in defeat. The police had questioned him for over an hour about Sydney, and he’d told them everything he knew, everything that had happened, starting at the very beginning.

  It was his fault. He’d brought Sydney here. Embry was nothing more than an innocent fly tangled in her web, and she was nearly destroyed because of it. He’d already run through the full range of emotions, from grief to pure fucking rage. From feeling as if he’d break down crying, to wanting to destroy everything in his path until he found his way to Sydney and ruined her the way she’d ruined Embry.

  But now, as he made his way back into the waiting room, back to face Embry’s friends, he couldn’t feel anything past the crippling guilt that flooded his veins, drowning him in shame.

  Brett’s head rested against the wall behind him, jaw slack as he snored quietly. Morgan was snuggled into his side, her eyes puffy and red, dark streaks running down her face the only remnants of the makeup she’d been previously wearing.

  Her eyes found Luke, following him silently as he walked back into the room, and she untangled herself from Brett, leaving him to sleep as she led Luke down the hallway. She stopped abruptly and looked up at him expectantly.

  He straightened to his full height, readying for her wrath. “It was me. I hurt her. I’m the reason. It’s my fault, Morgan. I don’t know if I can ever make this right.”

  Her eyes softened, and she shook her head. “It’s not you, you big idiot.”

  “I—what?” He’d expected her blame, her anger. Instead he saw sympathy bleeding out of her.

  “This isn’t your fault. I know you think it is. I know you feel a sense of responsibility for bringing that psychotic southern belle into Embry’s life, and I’ll give you that. But you didn’t do this, you didn’t hurt her, you didn’t cause this pain.”

  He rubbed at the tension in his neck as he digested her words.

  Morgan gave him a pointed look. “Your girl just came out of surgery. She’s laying in a hospital bed with broken ribs and a missing spleen, and all she could think about was you. So you’re going to suck it up and go in there, hold her hand, and tell her you love her and take her pain away like only you can.”

  He looked at her with a newfound respect, his lips lifting into a slight smile. “I think I’m beginning to see why Embry keeps you around.”

  She shot him a withering look and grabbed him by the elbow. Together they walked down the hallway and toward a bank of elevators as she updated him on what he’d missed while he’d been with the police.

  “Her parents left a short while ago, they’ll be back in the morning. Brett and I already saw her, but all she wants is you. She’s sleeping now, but you can go in and you can stay.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off with a shake of her head. “I’ve already had it out with all of the nurses on the floor, and they know there will be no removing you from her bedside. Just make sure you let her rest.”

  He looked down at her in awe.

  “She’s one floor up. Room six-twenty-one, third down on the left. It’s a private room.” Morgan pushed the button for the elevator, then waited with him, a show of silent support by his side.

  Luke’s arm shot out as he grabbed her and pulled her roughly into him. “Thank you, Morgan.”

  She nodded into his chest, then pulled back to look up at him. “You’re welcome.” The elevator dinged and she stepped back. “Go take care of our girl.”

  Luke nodded, taking a step toward the elevator when Morgan suddenly stopped him with a hand on his elbow.

  “She’s pretty beat up, Luke.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she forced a sad smile. “She’s okay. Just… prepare yourself.”

  Pretty beat up. He swallowed hard and fought the urge to put his fist through the wall just to deal with all of the anger and pain welling up inside of him.

  He watched Morgan walk away and stood in the hallway alone. The elevator had long since closed its doors and continued its upward journey. Fin
ally, he decided to take the stairs, opting to keep moving. He was afraid if he stopped for even a second he’d fall apart.

  One floor up, six-twenty-one.

  His steps echoed in the stairwell as he climbed the single flight of stairs. Pushing through the door, his eyes traveled the hallway until he got his bearings. Third down on the left.

  The hall was nearly deserted this time of night. He walked quietly down, nodding at the nurses at their station and the ones wandering around, until he found Embry’s room.

  The door was ajar, and he pushed it open further, standing in the doorway as he assessed her. The light from the hallway cast a shadow across her features, but he could see the bruises on her face, her arms, standing out in stark contrast to her pale skin.

  He took a shaky breath and stepped quietly into the room. As he drew nearer, he saw more evidence of Sydney’s depravity. A split, bloody lip, a small bandage on the side of her head, the IV sticking out of her arm, pumping whatever painkillers were helping her sleep soundly.

  My beautiful, broken girl. He could barely breathe seeing her like this. His body began to tremble as rage ate its way through him, nearly consuming him. Sydney. Her name played on a loop in his head, taunting him, mocking him. She did this. He fought the urge to trash the room, unplug all of the wires and cords connected to Embry and take her home. Keep her safe, protected, like he should’ve done in the first place. And with that thought, the fury melted away replaced by guilt and grief.

  He eased himself into the chair beside her bed, before his knees gave way. His eyes roamed her body, bile rising in his throat as he thought about the terror she must’ve felt, the pain she’d endured. This hospital was no place for her. It was wrong. She shouldn’t be here; it should be him. He would’ve switched places with her in a heartbeat, would gladly be the one in the hospital bed, bruised and broken. Instead, he was engulfed in the fiery flames of despair as he watched her chest rise and fall in shallow breaths.