Us: A If I Break (Her) Story Page 3

  I give him a bright smile. “I guess that means you make sure she gets out,” I say with a shrug. Me and Alana exchange a smile.

  We leave Helen and Alana alone, stepping outside of the room. Alana still looks pissed off, but I have faith that Helen can handle it.

  The minute we’re outside, I round on him. “You knew Alana—Megan—our sister, didn’t you? Didn’t think to let me in on it?”

  “Well you know what happened the last time you met up with someone you thought was family,” Dexter retorts, wearing a smug expression that makes me want to slap the shit out of him.

  “Bullshit.” I scowl at him and he sighs.

  “There’s others. Yours at least.” My memories, of course, aren’t the most simplistic, but I do remember kids when I younger—more than just one.

  “Send me the file.”

  “I think it’s better to handle one situation at a time, don’t you?”

  “I’m not asking for your permission,” I tell him. I’m starting to feel aggravated. Sometimes I think he forgets who he’s talking to.

  “Look,” Dexter says, spreading his hands in a gesture that’s meant to be conciliatory, I think. “I know we haven’t been on the best terms since our father’s predicament.”

  I let out an amused chuckle that I can see visibly pisses him off, but I don’t give a shit.

  “By predicament, you mean the asshole who’s lucky he’s only in prison for slap-on-the-wrist white-collar crimes instead of being there for killing my mom?”

  “We’re still not sure if that happened,” he mutters. Now I’m beyond pissed.

  “Fuck you Dexter.” I am ready to be done with the situation.

  “Look, Alana is a walking disaster. She’s going to need both of us. You can’t handle this alone, and she’s our sister—not just yours. I’m sure you both share commonalities that I can’t begin to understand but she’s my family too and I only want what’s best for her.” He looks sincere, and the asshole probably is, but his understanding of what’s best for people is pretty warped sometimes.

  I grimace, but I know she needs all the help she can get whether she wants to believe it or not. Especially if Alana is anything like me—which, from our brief meeting, I’m gathering the apples sure as hell didn’t fall far from the tree with us. She needs Helen. She’ll need emotional support. And with Lauren and dealing with all the shit I have going on, having Dexter to help carry the load isn’t exactly the worst thing imaginable.

  “Fine,” I tell him simply. I look down at my phone and see that Lauren is calling again. Shit, it’s probably about Ian, but I don’t have to deal with him anymore. If Dexter wants to help, I’ve got the perfect assignment for him.

  “Have you met Alana’s husband?”

  5

  Alana

  Dr. Lyce is sure as hell different than the doctors we used to see growing up. She’s obviously rich, which is evident by the diamond the size of an M&M on her finger. Her outfit is sleek and clearly expensive; her hair long, dark, and shiny. Perfect teeth, perfect tone to her voice, her makeup applied like it was done by a professional artist. She’s everything and more I’d have expected a woman to be who’s married to Dexter. I wonder how fucking rich they are, and how I ended up on the broke, shitty side of the family tree. But none of that is important right now. What’s important is that I get out of this fucking country club psych ward room and then…well, honestly, I don’t know what happens after that.

  I wasn’t supposed to be here.

  I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this shit anymore and honestly it was sort of freeing to let go, to let Megan deal with it all. To not have to save her ass, or hide things from her and keep things functioning.

  It was bearable…until Ian.

  They weren’t ever supposed to happen. Megan was never supposed to meet Ian, she was never supposed to find Cal or Dexter. She was just supposed to be content with starting her own life.

  Instead she wants mine.

  I can’t wait to get my hands on Blue. I’m going to kick his ass! Why would he bring Megan to Ian? Why would he give her the file? How am I going to fix all of this? But who I’m mad at the most out of everyone—other than fucking Megan—is Ian. I saw the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, it wasn’t like he was searching for me. He wasn’t bothered at all by who was in front of him. The thought brings tears to my eyes. That’s maybe why I went a little insane, why I overreacted. It could have been anyone else but her. Why her?

  “Alana.” Helen’s voice interrupts my thoughts. She’s sitting in the expensive as shit large leather chair across from me but it’s facing towards me and not the TV as it was earlier. I don’t know what to think of her. I know she’s not stupid how the other doctors were but there’s something about her I don’t like and I’m not sure if it’s because she met Megan first, or because she’s Dexter’s wife…and I don’t even know what to think of him yet. But I know for sure I don’t want to talk to her.

  I don’t want anything to do with any of these people. I don’t need a family. I never have. I’ve done fine on my own. Where the hell was everyone when I was in foster care having to fight to keep the meager shit the state gave me? Where were they when I had to bite a hole into the arm of my foster mother’s brother for trying to feel Megan up? They weren’t anywhere around, and now I’m supposed to accept them with open arms because they have money?

  The money is fine, I sure as hell don’t have a problem with that. They can give me all the money they want if they feel guilty. But their pity, their so-called support, they can keep. I don’t need it and I sure as hell don’t want it, but I’d say anything to get out of this place, this posh insane asylum. The only one who doesn’t seem to have pity in their eyes, who isn’t looking at me like I’m a broken doll they can’t wait to fix, is Cal. He’s interesting and I don’t know how to read him. He’s said I can stay with him though if it comes to that; I was shocked as hell he said yes. I was expecting to put up more of a fight until someone agreed to just shell out the money for a hotel near them or something.

  “How do you feel about staying with Cal?” she asks, and I shrug.

  “I don’t know him. I don’t know any of you, but I don’t have much of a choice do I?” I mutter.

  “There’s always a choice Alana,” she says, and I know it’s a freaking loaded statement, and I have to fight my eyeroll.

  “I introduced myself to Megan but I’d like to introduce myself to you. I’m Helen

  Lyce—”

  “Dr. Helen Lyce, right?” I correct her, and she smiles almost gratefully.

  “Yes. I received my undergrad from the University of Michigan.”

  “You didn’t take Dexter’s last name?” I ask, narrowing my eyes on hers. The question must surprise her because her smile falters just the tiniest bit.

  “No. I worked very hard for my reputation to stand on its own.”

  “But I mean even with all your education and training or whatever it is that head doctors like you do, it still doesn’t equal being a Crestfield does it?” I ask her with a condescending grin. If she’s annoyed or irritated she doesn’t show it.

  “There is a lot that the Crestfield name means to a lot of people. Tell me, what does it mean to you?”

  “I’m not really in the mood to talk, sis,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. Before she can answer a youngish looking male doctor, who I’m guessing is my attending, comes in. He greets Helen and introduces himself as my attending to her, but he sure knows who she is. Either her name or reputation was told to him before even stepping into my room. Is that because of her hard work and credentials or the name she prefers not to use?

  “How are you feeling?” he asks as he approaches me, a stethoscope swinging from his neck.

  “Like someone who just got hit by a car,” I tell him, with an unimpressed scowl. He pulls out a flashlight type thing, looks into both of my eyes, and seems to approve of what he sees. He and Helen start to talk in doctor jar
gon that I don’t really give a shit about. I’m sore but all my body parts work so it could have been a lot worse.

  “Anyway, can you guys up the pain meds?” I don’t know if it was pure adrenaline coursing through when I first woke, but now the pain from the accident seems to be announcing itself, and it’s pissed.

  “That’s what I wanted to come in and discuss with you.” He pulls a chair from across the room and sits in front of me.

  “When you were admitted to the hospital we had to run a series of tests in order to properly provide you treatment. And everything came back normal, however, you did test positive for our HCG screening pregnancy test. The levels are pretty low, but were you aware that you’re pregnant?”

  What the actual fuck did he just say?

  “I’m sorry, what?!” He looks a bit uncomfortable and glances at Helen. My stomach is flipping over like it’s in a fucking gymnastics tournament.

  No. No. No. No. This can’t be happening. This can’t be fucking happening!

  “Megan, are you alright?” I hear Helen say, and the machine I’m connected to is starting to beep faster, probably because my heart’s about to explode in my fucking chest.

  This bitch wasn’t on birth control?

  Shit. Shit. Shit!

  “Dr. Hammond would you please excuse us?” I hear Dr. Lyce say. They exchange some other words but I don’t hear them because my world is falling apart right here in this froufrou hospital room.

  “Alana, I need you to calm down,” Helen says, her voice stern and authoritative.

  “How the fuck am I supposed to calm down? She’s pregnant! I-I’m pregnant!” I’m trembling now, and I’m going to throw up. She’s got Kam’s baby inside of me! Ewww. Oh God!

  Helen must read my face because she’s grabbing some sort of bucket and handing it to me. I grab it just in time and vomit into it. Get it together, get it together.

  A minute later she’s handing me Kleenex and I haven’t even realized there are tears pouring from my eyes. What do I do? What the fuck do I do?

  “I can’t. I just can’t!” I tell her, and I feel sleep slip over me.

  Megan

  My body hurts. My thighs, my legs and arms. I open my eyes, almost afraid to see where I am. When I do I see that I’m in a hospital…at least I think I am, but it’s not a normal one. This looks like a room decorated by a crew from some HGTV show.

  “Megan?” I turn to see Dr. Lyce sitting beside me.

  “What happened, what am I doing here?” I ask before she hands me a cup of water. I take it, relieved, because my throat feels scratchy and raw. Even after I swallow a few sips it stings going down.

  “You’re at Rush University in the psychiatric ward,” she explains gently. My eyes widen and my heart starts to speed up.

  “I-I don’t understand.”

  “You were in an accident Megan. You were hit by a car, but from witnesses on the scene it appeared as if you ran out into the street intentionally.”

  I frown at her. “No. No, I wouldn’t do that.” I close my eyes and fight through my foggy thoughts.

  “What is the last thing you remember?” she asks. I think hard, fighting through my memories.

  “Uhm…I remember I was…with Ian. Ian and I had a fight…” I trail off, remembering it wasn’t a fight. It was intense, and terrifying. He kissed me. I let him kiss me. I remember his hands all over me and how it felt.

  I feel my face flush.

  “And then…I was just trying to get away and I heard her. Alana, in my head. She was screaming, her voice piercing. And then the car…I didn’t see it coming.”

  She nods.

  “How long have I been out?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer.

  “A little less than twenty-four hours. Once the doctors knew that you didn’t have any internal trauma or bleeding in the brain, we had you moved here. Aside from the soreness you’re most likely feeling, you’re doing pretty well considering,” she says with a smile. I try to match hers but it’s fake. Not because of the pain I’m in but because of everything that happened before it. I remember the ring I found, how things happened with Ian, and Alana practically attacking me, getting us both killed and decimating any hope I had of us ever being on the same page. The soreness I have doesn’t compare to everything that I’ll have to face once I’m out of here.

  “How long do I have to stay here?” I ask hesitantly.

  “Just forty-eight more hours as long as…if there’s no signs showing that you are a threat to yourself or anyone else. At that point you can be released into the custody of a relative,” she explains gently, and I nod. I let out a deep breath and a tear escapes my eye.

  “The only family I have is Cal, and with Lauren being so close to delivering I can’t ask him to…” I run my hands over my face.

  “Well, that’s not entirely accurate,” she says, almost hesitantly. I look at her curiously.

  “Your other brother, Dexter Crestfield, who is also my husband…” She says this in the span of a breath.

  “What?” I ask. She smiles tightly and looks away from me briefly.

  “I don’t understand, why wouldn’t you tell me that? Why would you hide that from me?” I ask, puzzled. I have another brother, and she’s his wife?

  “It wasn’t that I hid it from you Megan. Cal told you that I was his sister-in-law, remember?” she reminds me and I squint and rub my temples. I do remember that, I guess I just didn’t put it together that his brother was mine.

  “You’re more than welcome to come with us. You can be released to my care if you’d like. I actually think it will be the best thing, but it’s up to you. You’ll have the support from me no matter what you decide.”

  “I’d rather not be released to anyone,” I say quietly. But it won’t kill me to be with them for a few days I suppose.

  “They’re both here. Cal and Dexter. We all care about you greatly. You’re not on your own anymore,” she tells me with a warm smile. “And there is something else.”

  I look at her cautiously.

  “Were…were you aware that you’re pregnant?”

  I laugh at her, confused. What is she talking about?

  “I’m not pregnant.”

  “The hospital ran some routine tests and a pregnancy test was one of them. It was positive.”

  Pregnant? I’m pregnant!

  “Are you sure?” I ask her hesitantly. She nods and I feel a smile spreading across my face. A smile I can’t hide. One that makes tears fall from my eyes.

  “I-I didn’t think it was possible. After being on that medication for so long. I thought I might be infertile…” I can’t believe this! I’m pregnant!

  “You’re happy,” she says, a smile spreading across her own face and enthusiasm peeking through her voice as she takes in my reaction.

  “Yeah.”

  “This makes everything easier!”

  I’m having a baby. Something I wanted, of course, but didn’t expect so soon—and didn’t think would ever happen after finding out the truth about my condition. Before this moment everything was so complicated, so scary. I think of Ian—how him holding me and kissing me was making me feel things I didn’t think were there for him—and it was terrifying at the time. Before this moment I had to figure out if it was my feelings for him or Alana’s coursing through. I didn’t know how I would sort through it and I really would have had to decide if marrying Kam was the right decision, but this changes everything.

  I’m having Kam’s baby. This is the sign that I need.

  I know things are going to be difficult still because Alana exists and I have my condition but, this baby…he or she is my answer to everything.

  “I’m so glad that you’re excited and happy about this Megan, but this isn’t going to be simple or make things easier. If anything, this could make things a lot more difficult for the two of you.”

  It’s not going to make things harder. This is going to be what saves us, what saves me.

  “I don’t
understand what you mean. Kam is going to be ecstatic,” I tell her, holding on to my enthusiasm, the joy coursing through me. This will solidify everything.

  “I-I don’t mean you and Kam, Megan. I mean you and Alana.”

  “Alana’s not here. I am. I’m the one having the baby. I’m the one who conceived it,” I tell her, not allowing pessimism to affect me one bit.

  “Megan…Alana was just here,” she says softly.

  “What?”

  “Yes. Just now, less than five minutes ago,” she says carefully. My heart drops.

  “You spoke to her?” I ask, my elation beginning to dwindle by the second.

  “Yes, and her reaction was the opposite of yours.”

  I look down at my stomach and touch it softly. Knowing there’s something inside of it made out of love, a part of me and the man I love most in the world, makes me feel a sudden urge of protectiveness pour over me.

  “It doesn’t matter what she wants. She can’t…I won’t let her hurt it,” I say, feeling myself starting to panic.

  “I didn’t say she wanted to hurt it Megan.”

  “She doesn’t want it because it’s mine, it’s something I did, that was created out of love. She didn’t have anything to do with it. She hates me! Why does she hate me?” I’m crying now, feeling hopeless and desperate. What if she took over and tried to get rid of it?

  “Everything is going to be okay.” She sounds confident but how could she possibly know that? How does she know it’s all going to be fine?

  “I have to talk to Kam. I need to talk to him,” I say, frantically looking around for my phone. I need Kam more than ever now. I have to tell him everything. Kam will support me. He will help me protect our baby.

  “Megan, please calm down.”

  “I’m trying, I really am. But it’s all so much, and the moment I get even the slightest bit of hope there’s something else to take it away. It’s her, actually. Always in the background waiting to sabotage me, to destroy what makes me happy.”