Beyond Broken Read online

  Beyond Broken

  by Kristin Vayden

  Blue Tulip Publishing

  bluetulippublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  BEYOND BROKEN

  Copyright © 2013 KRISTIN VAYDEN

  ISBN 978-09890783-82

  Cover Art Designed by PS Cover Design

  Beyond Broken was honestly the hardest manuscript I've ever written. Blood, sweat and tears, lots of tears, went into it. More than anything, I want it to touch you, give you hope in a world that tends to focus on all the ways we're messed up, rather than how we can be redeemed. If one person is changed, given hope or the courage to stand up against addiction, then every effort on my part, each tear I cried writing it will be worth it.

  So this is for you... the one, or many, who will survive addiction, conquer it, and go on to touch the lives of many more, helping to set them free as well.

  The pull was magnetic and I was powerless to stop it. As much as I wanted to distance myself, keep my heart safe, it was useless. The last shreds of my self-control were beginning to snap, one by one, increasing the tension that already existed, that was my existence. Everything about him warned heartbreak, yet my own traitorous heart continued to beat his name, regardless of the danger, of the risk involved in loving him. I was torn between what was right, what I knew to be true, and what I wanted.

  It would have been so much easier if he were indifferent; if his silver gray eyes didn’t stare through me and sear me with his gaze. I could pretend that my own torrent of emotions didn’t exist, but he provoked them, brought them out into the light. All at once my cover was blown and there was nothing left to do but fall, knowing full well I might never be caught.

  Chapter One

  “So tell me, Miss Holton… or may I call you Sophia?” At my nod, she continued. “Tell me why should Willow and Oak Rehabilitation Center hire you for the summer internship? I’m sure you’re aware that this is a highly competitive and in-demand position.” Percy Campbell, the woman conducting the interview leaned back and studied me over her wide-rimmed glasses.

  I inhaled deeply and tried to gather my thoughts. I’d practiced this same question over and over. My answer should be memorized. But I didn’t want the answer to be trite; my desire to work here went much deeper than that. Closing my eyes for a moment I had a million memories assault me at once, reminding me of why I wanted, needed to make a difference. Each memory carried the pain of a life destroyed; yet some memories also reminded me of the joy, the restoration that happened when addiction was conquered.

  While growing up in the Philippines, I had witnessed more than my share of poverty and the coping mechanisms people used to survive. Drugs being the first choice of many. I’d lost count of how many women had left half-starved infants on the Center’s doorstep only to have those same babies experience the pain of withdrawals shortly after because their mothers were high the whole pregnancy.

  Tears pricked my eyes as I remembered one particular little baby girl who had such severe seizures that she didn’t survive. I was only twelve and I remembered kneeling at her funeral. My parents and I were the only ones who cared that she had passed away. That’s what drugs did to people. It made mother’s not even care that their beautiful baby daughters died before they were a few months old. Drug addiction was a monster; ravenous and blood-thirsty, consuming anything and anyone in its path. If there was some way I could save one life from its bloody jaws, then I was going to do it or die trying. With a deep breath I tried to articulate my passion without letting the tears spill.

  “We all have a choice in life, whether our lives will be in service to self or others. I want to follow in my parents’ footsteps. They’ve given their lives to the service of others, particularly those with severe drug addictions. I’ve seen the powerful effect even a few people can have on a community. I want to be the person who creates change and helps people survive their addictions. In researching the various places I could intern, your center’s mission statement struck me differently than any other places I’ve considered.” I paused, letting my words settle.

  Unable to restrain myself, my hands began to move around punctuating my next statement. “Many of the other treatment facilities portray more of a retreat personality. They offer the amenities of a spa without promising results, creating more of a relaxing environment where patients are supposedly given time to heal themselves.” I shrugged, grimacing. “I agree with your center’s statement that ‘patients come to Willow and Oak because they need assistance. We are that assistance.’ People come to rehab centers because their lives are out of control. No amount or rest or massages are going to free them from that type of…captivity.” I struggled for the correct words. “Alcohol, drugs, gambling — those people have become their addiction’s slave and your center captures that and offers a way out. I’m the perfect candidate for your center, not only because of my experience, which I’m sure you’ve already seen on my application, but also because I’m in complete agreement with your mission statement and am determined to follow the same creed personally.”

  My hands were sweating but I kept them firmly folded in my lap after my speech, hopefully giving the impression of a confidence I wasn’t feeling.

  “You’ve done your research. That is commendable. Tell me, how do you feel about working in a confidential environment, usually one that is in close proximity with celebrity personalities? As a staff member here at the Willow and Oak, privacy is the utmost of importance, and any deviation from maintaining that privacy is answered with immediate termination.” She tapped her pen twice on her notebook and narrowed her green eyes as she waited.

  “I understand and agree with your position on privacy. Whether the person is famous, or an unknown homeless man, they should be treated with dignity and respect. Meaning that they have a right to privacy. Another attribute of your center that sets you apart is the fact that you do not treat the rich or famous differently than those who are here on a pro-bono basis. I really admire that. As for dealing with celebrities, chances are, I wouldn’t know if they were or were not. I grew up in the Philippines with my family. I didn’t watch any TV and only recently came over to the US to finish my education. Time for studying pop culture has never been a priority on my list.”

  “Interesting.” The woman continued to write notes.

  I glanced at my watch, noticing the interview had taken less time than I had anticipated. Was it over?

  “All of your references and schooling check out perfectly, I do not have any further questions at this time. We’ll contact you if we decide to offer the position. Thank you for your interest.”

  The woman stood and offered me her hand. I shook it, studying her expression carefully for any clue as to if I was a favored candidate or not. Nothing. I could tell nothing which was quite rare for me. I could usually read people perfectly. My father said it was a gift, but more often than not, it ended up being a curse.

  I left the center and drove away, praying earnestly I’d be back. It was hard. After all, once my parents had given me the choice of returning to America to go to college, it had been my goal to work at a place like Willow and Oak. So much so that I had graduated early, taken online courses until I left for America and gotten my degree almost two years early. The intern p
osition I was applying for was specific, and I would get hands-on training that I would not get anywhere else. The position allowed me to basically work as a nurse rather than intern, meaning I wouldn’t have a doctor hovering over me each time I took a patient’s blood pressure. Willow and Oak would provide the perfect venue for me to grow but also to further familiarize me with medicine in the States. After all, it was far different than the Philippines. Everything I had studied, learned and slaved over was hanging on a phone call. I could easily intern at a thousand centers, but I wanted to work there.

  The twenty minutes it took to drive to my apartment seemed overly long. After I locked the car, I took the stairs two at a time. Palm trees were now eye level. A nearly constant gentle breeze blew them softly, creating a perpetual rustling that comforted and lulled me to sleep each night. Before I could put my key in the door, it swung open, causing me to jump back in surprise.

  “How did it go? Did you get it?” Bekah was bouncing up and down, her blonde ponytail swinging wildly.

  “Hi to you too.” I grinned at her enthusiasm. “And I don’t know yet. If I don’t hear anything, then that’s my answer.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

  I walked into our apartment and tossed my keys on the side table. After flopping onto the couch, I kicked off my high heels and began rubbing my feet together.

  “I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Hmm?” I glanced from my feet to my friend who stood with a smirk.

  “You… high heels? Yeah, I didn’t even know you owned a pair and I’ve been in your closet more times than you.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” I shot back with a grin.

  “Seriously. Those are cute though. Did you just get them? Hide them in a box, away from your nosey roommate?” Bekah said over her shoulder as she walked to the overhead kitchen cabinet.

  “Maybe.”

  “Here I thought innocent and squeaky clean girls like you didn’t lie.” She tossed a bag of chips at my head and I caught it, opening it quickly.

  “I didn’t lie, I… just didn’t give you a clear answer,” I replied with my mouth full.

  “Whatever. Have you called your parents yet?” Bekah asked as she flopped down on the couch beside me.

  “No, it’s two a.m. in the Philippines. As excited as my parents are, I doubt they’d appreciate a middle-of-the-night call, especially when I have nothing to tell them.”

  “True.”

  “But I am going to e-mail them. Stay away from my shoes.” I called back as I went down the hall to my room.

  “Sure, I will.”

  “Bekah.” My steps halted as I warned her in my sternest voice even as laughter threatened to blow my cover.

  “Fine! Have your stinkin’ shoes!” I heard Bekah shout but there was laughter at the end of her declaration.

  “Thought so!”

  I flipped open my laptop and lay down on my bed, waiting for it to wake up. The room was bright green with yellow pillows everywhere; it made me happy and a settling contentment washed over me. I opened my e-mail account and began to type a letter to my parents when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I took it out and glanced at the number, almost tossing it when I didn’t recognize it. Reluctantly I answered, fully expecting someone searching for Juan, again.

  “Miss Holton?” a man’s voice asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Hello. I’m Wilson Elliot, director at Willow and Oak Rehabilitation Center. You interviewed for a position?” he asked, and I heard him shuffling papers over the speaker.

  “Yes. Today, actually.” My heart started hammering in my chest. Though I was sure that there was a simple oversight and they needed additional information or something, I couldn’t help but hope they had called to hire me.

  “I’m pleased to offer you the internship. I know this is a bit sudden, but after your interview and because of your fantastic references and background we felt you were a perfect fit.”

  At his words, my heartbeat skipped its thunderous rhythm and butterflies overtook my stomach. I was so thrilled I couldn’t talk or move. Silently I screamed in excitement before I replied. “Thank you! That would be wonderful.”

  “Good. Can you come to orientation tomorrow?” he asked distractedly.

  I forced a deep breath and concentrated on relaxing my frozen muscles.

  “Yes. What time?”

  “Eight. Congratulations and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, again.”

  The line went dead but I didn’t move my phone from its position on my ear. I got the job! I got the job! My mind kept replaying the conversation. After a moment I scrambled off my bed and I jumped and did a crazy dance, going in circles and shouting.

  “Uh, you okay in there?” Bekah asked through the closed door.

  “Yes! I got the internship! I got the internship!”

  “What? I thought that—” Bekah started to ask.

  Jumping off my bed I landed then twirled, full of excitement. My hands were slightly shaky as I reached for the door. “I know! They called and I start orientation tomorrow—”

  “Whoa, they move fast.”

  “I know! I’m so happy! Can you believe it?” I reached out and grasped her hands, jumping. Bekah needed no further invitation and began hopping with me.

  “Better send your parents another e-mail,” Bekah added once we calmed down.

  “Yep! I actually never even sent the first. This one will be much more fun to write anyway.”

  ****

  “Welcome, Miss Holton. Here is your locker and that laundry bin over there is where you’ll deposit your uniform.” An elderly nurse by the name of Regina Lambert was showing me around and giving me the grand tour. She was taller than I, but far more rounded with graying hair pulled back into a French twist. Her expression was weary but resilient, as if she had seen too much and not been able to help enough people.

  The steel door of the locker chilled my fingers as I touched then opened it. Though it was empty, pleasure rippled through me. Mine. This was my locker. I belonged here.

  “If you’ll follow me I’ll show you the patient rooms on the various halls. You’ll be stationed on the North Wing. Dr. Solomon will be your supervisor and you’ll assist him with his patients.”

  I nodded and followed her down the hall. The Willow and Oak was a combination of a hospital and hotel. It wasn’t sterile like a hospital, but had warm tones on the walls and plants and sitting areas spaced throughout the wide hall. Windows let in light and gave a spectacular view of the grounds. Acres and acres of grass, ponds, and of course, willow and oak trees were just part of the center’s offerings. The rich wooden floors were silent as we walked through the halls, now passing open and closed doors, all belonging to patients seeking treatment. As we came to the end of the hall, Regina turned and started to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of glass breaking.

  “Get out!” A man’s voice shouted and a nurse rushed through the door of a room only a few feet away. She glanced back at us, tears streaming down her face.

  “Regina! I tried to set up his IV but he’s shaking so badly I couldn’t get a vein—”

  “It’s alright. I’ll take care of it. Will you please call someone to pick up the glass?” Her tone was full of quiet authority and poise that only came with years of experience. Immediately the other nurse relaxed her posture. With a nod she left.

  “I’m afraid Mr. Bentley is not one of our… easiest patients. If you’ll excuse me.” Regina offered me a polite smile and walked toward the room, her shoulders straightening as she proceeded.

  “Please let me know if I can help,” I said quickly as she walked away. She tossed a thank you over her shoulder and entered the room. I waited, sighing deeply and glancing about. The hall was empty and I focused on the windows. A few moments passed in silence before another slew of curses rent the air and jolted me from my peaceful view.

  “You’re just as
incompetent as she is! What is wrong with you people! You’re the best? Bull shit you are!” Mr. Bentley’s voice carried across the hall.

  Anger was laced with a deeper underlying fear that startled me with its intensity.

  Regina’s voice was quiet so I couldn’t understand her words, but her tone was meant to calm. After a few moments I heard her call my name.

  “Miss Holton?”

  I took a tentative step forward then another until I reached the door. The room was more of a suite. From the doorway I could see a living room with a flat screen TV and a wide patio. After taking a few steps inside, I noticed the plush carpet that cradled my sneakers, a stark difference to the hardwood floor of the hallway. The scent of lavender teased my senses as I walked in further. Past the leather couch there was a door, presumably leading to the bedroom where Regina was waiting.

  Scanning the room as I entered, I noticed the tense posture of the man that must be Mr. Bentley. From my schooling I could tell he was in the beginning stage of withdrawals from a powerful narcotic. A fine sheen of sweat coated the goose bumps on his arms. The sound of his rapid breathing echoed softly in the room as he shifted restlessly under the blankets. When I glanced to his face I read the desperation, the need in his expression. Addiction held him tightly and was putting up a wicked fight for control. Yet in his expression was also a resolute determination to hide it. Even through his wild and haggard appearance, I could easily see that he was handsome, more than that. He was dangerous. Gray eyes were piercing in their intensity as they studied me and the ridged line of his jaw became more pronounced as he tried to suppress the shaking.

  “Yes? Can I assist you?” I asked Regina in approaching her. I studiously avoided eye contact with the shaking man, keeping my focus on my superior and her needs.

  “I need to get a few supplies. I haven’t shown you the location yet so I while I go to get them, I need you to stay with Mr. Bentley.” Her eyes were serious as she studied me for weakness or any crumbling under the pressure.