Shattered

Chapter 2 Mark

"It hurts until it doesn't. You think it's going to break you, but it won't. You may not sleep as well at night, but you will be fine. Numb, but numb and fine are the same." Scandal

Mark ran with the stretcher through the doors of the ambulance bay, intent on not letting go of Bradley's hand. One minute she was purging her system of the unknown drug and the next she was in respiratory distress. Her body was the shell of a ghost. Her skin was pale, her lips blue.

"I need you to let go," one of the doctors yelled.

"I won't!" Mark roared back. "I need to be with her!" A security guard appeared out of nowhere and wrestled Mark away from the stretcher. "NO!" he cried falling to his knees. He pried himself off the ground in an instant, stumbling forward. Bradley and the team of doctors disappeared through a set of wooden doors. He ran down the hallway chasing after the love of his life, barely missing his access to the private hallway by seconds. "Bradley," he pounded on the door. "Don't leave me!" He leaned against the door and slowly slumped to the floor. Mark buried his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees, as his eyes welled with tears.

"I know it's hard, but you have to let the doctors do their job. They can't be at their best if you're hanging all over her." Mark looked up. The tall, stocky security guard was standing over him, his hand extended, offering to help Mark up. Mark declined the offer and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I really need you to move to the waiting room. This door has to be clear for other patients. Come on, I'll buy you a cup of coffee."

Mark slammed the back of his head against the door. His emotions were scrambled. Anger mixed with fear, love confused with hatred. Was it Emma? Could it have been Kristin? She hated her older sister. No, it had to be Emma. All along Emma was the culprit. She faked kidnappings, lied to the police and tried to have Mark arrested with Phil. Bradley made the connection that she couldn't have zip tied her hands together. Was that even possible? If it wasn't Emma, who was it? A random stranger? Someone else they knew? Three girls drugged. Two found in a boat half unconscious and Bradley... someone tried to kill Bradley. It didn't make sense. Were teenage girls responsible for almost killing one another? Maybe all the girls were victims of an unfathomable crime? Mark sniffled and realized he was barefoot, his jeans and t-shirt still wet from the lake.

"Let's get you some scrubs to change into."

Mark reluctantly stood up, the linoleum floor cold against the bottom of his feet. He glanced at the locked doors before hesitantly moving away from them. Somewhere behind those doors, Bradley was fighting for her life. Was she back there with Emma and Kristin?

"Where are the other girls?" Mark suddenly questioned. The security guard shook his head. "A blond and a ginger? Are they back there?" he pointed to the doors. "You have to let me back there! My girlfriend's life is in danger!"

Beyond the security guard, Mark spotted Bradley's beautiful mother. His heart immediately stopped. She was statuesque, her hands folded across her chest, as she listened to what he could only assume was an update about her daughters. Mark had never been this close to her, only seen her in the distance from the treehouse where he strategically sat keeping watch night after night. Mark swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Let's go," the security guard firmly gripped his left bicep.

Mark followed him down the hallway, towards Bradley's mom. Guilt consumed him and he wasn't even sure why. It wasn't his fault Bradley almost died, or was it? Mark swallowed the lump in his throat and turned his face away from her as they rounded the corner at the nurse's station. They entered another hallway, the same yellowish linoleum floor, bland walls and blinding lights contributed to his anxiety.