TRAGICALLY BROKEN: The Broken Series (Damaged, Book 1) (RE-IMAGINED & EXTENDED)

FORTY-THREE

GAVIN

Sitting on the beach, with my arms draped over my knees, I watch families as they come and go, taking note of their happiness, their excitement. I listen to the chorus of laughter and cheering from playing children, and I imagine the future. Five years from now. Ten years. I see Hannah as my wife, our two children playing in the sand. And I hear their laughter echoing over the roar of the waves. I feel the joy they bring me and the happiness I never thought I'd have.

My family. The people I love.

Nearby, a boy and girl—both about four years old—build a sandcastle by the water's edge. A small wave rolls in and washes it away, pulling the granules back to sea. They laugh hysterically as their hard work gets obliterated. Then they hurry to rebuild all over again.

Rinse and repeat.

I smile at the simplicity of it.

I often come to the beach to clear my head. I use the breeze coming off the waves to air out the shit that collects there. I forget my problems, enjoy the scenery, and return home feeling lighter than when I left. But today my problems can't be fixed so easily. I can't forget about Hannah. Or the hurt I've caused. I can't simply exhale that shit away.

It's been five weeks. Five. Long. Weeks. And knowing she's spending her days with Ryan is killing me. They've always been close. But because of my stupidity, she literally threw herself into his waiting arms.

I've known all along about the feelings he's harboured for her. He's been on the sidelines wanting what he couldn't have, pining after the girl he lost to me—that I took for granted. He never kept his affection for her a secret. Now here I am, walking five weeks in his shoes, and I'm not liking it one bit.

And just to add insult to injury, I can't even hate the guy. He's too damn nice. He treats Hannah great, he's always there for her, and I know he cares.

More than I'd like.

Damn, even I'm making a case in his favour.

I guess what it all comes down to is who Hannah really wants. Who makes her the happiest. After I can explain everything to her and tell her I had no control over what I'd done, I'm hoping that person will be me.

God, please let it be me.

After not being able to remember anything about the night I slept with Gabby, things didn't sit well with me. I could be held at gunpoint and still not do the things I did. I would never risk what Hannah and I had. My heart will always belong to her, whether my body is present or not. And there is no way I'd risk its death for one heated night with another woman, even if I was slightly inebriated.

Knowing I only had the equivalent of five shots, I knew the alcohol wasn't to blame. It had to be something else. After I received my first positive drug test result, I sent for a confirmatory test, confirming a cocktail of Ecstasy and a small amount of Rohypnol in my system. I was finally able to give my guilt some slack.

The increased pleasure. The blurry vision. The increased heart rate and energy. The hallucination. They were all side effects of the drugs being swirled in alcohol on an empty stomach.

I was right. I would never have knowingly hurt Hannah. And after at least a hundred attempts of trying to talk to her, today's the day it will all come out. No more slammed doors in my face. No more keeping me away. I won't leave until she knows the truth. Even if it's too late for us, at least she'll know.

I push up to stand and swipe the sand off my shorts. I scan my surroundings one last time when I see Hannah walking toward the beach. I shudder my eyes and look again, confirming I'm not having another hallucination.

She's exquisite. Pure perfection.

She spots someone across the beach, and I follow her gaze to see Ryan standing by the shoreline, looking out over the water. My heart sinks, knowing she's here to see him. I watch with tortured fascination as his eyes find hers. They exchange affectionate smiles when a large man bumps into her, knocking her over from the force.

Seconds pass, and she hasn't resurfaced above the flow of pedestrians. The seconds turn into a minute. Two. My gut tells me something's wrong, so I re-scan the area to see if I missed her in the heavy traffic.

My breaths quicken.

I cup my hands over my mouth. "Hannah! Hannah, where are you?!"

Ryan's head whips toward me, fear blanketing his face.

He feels it too.

The back pocket of my shorts vibrates, notifying me of a text. I whip out my phone and swipe the screen.

A blocked number.

Tapping the notification, I read the message.

Unknown: If you want to say your goodbyes, come to the self-storage on the south end of LA.

Another chime sounds, and I'm texted an address.

My blood runs cold.

Does Matt have Hannah?

I barrel toward my car with Ryan on my heels. When I leap inside, the passenger door flies open. "Someone took Hannah. If you know where she is, there's no way in hell you're leaving me behind, Hunter."

I nod, signalling for him to get in.

As he's buckling, I toss my phone on his lap so he can get caught up and press my foot to the floor, gunning the engine.

"Fuck!" Ryan curses loudly when he reads the message, vocalizing my thoughts exactly. "I saw her. She was right there!" He throttles his hair in his hands, obviously berating himself the same way I am.

"I know. Me too."

"What if we're too late?"

"That's not an option! Do you hear me? We're going to damn near fly to the address he sent. Then, when we know she's safe, we're going to kill the bastard. He's not getting another chance to hurt her. This ends now!"