Who I Became (Who I Was Book 2)

Who I Became

By Kasidy Blake

C
opyright

© 2015 by Kasidy Blake

All Rights Reserved.

Cover Design Jake Sager

Editor: Crystal Sosa

Proofreader: Emma Mack

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are products of the authors imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Dedication:

This one is for all of the fans of Who I Was!

Table of Contents:

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

LILLIAN

“Two officers down. I need a medic!”

“She is bleeding out. Does anyone know what happened to her?”

“She was hit in the head and face. Nowhere down there. I don’t know.”

“One of the officers didn’t make it. It doesn’t look good for the other one, either.”

“Braxton or Wesson?”

“I don’t know.”

“I have a 20-year-old female en route.”

“Losing lots of blood.”

“Miscarriage.”

I hear those words, every single heartbreaking one of them over and over until finally I see the darkness that I have been longing for. As I cross over it, I welcome the warmth of it as it encompasses every part of me. It is effectively making me numb, finally unable to feel anything.

***

I feel as though I have been sleeping for years with heaviness all around me. I try to open my eyes to see where I am and they won’t open.  I would start to panic but I can’t seem to do that either.  I try to reach out with my other senses.  I can hear some things, some of the surrounding sounds come in clearly but most of the voices don’t. I can hear what they are saying and the voices sound familiar; however, I can’t pinpoint who the voices belong to.

Beep, Beep...Drip, Drip

“Any changes?”

“No, the doctors are getting nervous she won’t wake up?”

“She will, she has to. Life can't go on if she doesn't.”

Beep, Beep…Drip, Drip

“
Are we going to tell her everything when she wakes up?
”

“If
she wakes up,
I
will see how she is.”

“I think we should tell her. She deserves to know.”

“She’s been through so much, I don’t know if she can take anymore.”

Beep, Beep…Drip, Drip

“Please, don’t let me lose her.”

The black consumes me again and as hard as I strain to hear what else these voices have to say, I can’t. 

CHAPTER ONE

LILLIAN

I open my eyes and can tell I am back at home.  Not that I ever have or had a home, but it’s a place that I would consider my home.  My room hasn’t changed and I smile at that.  I don’t know why this family took us in or why they would still have this room the same. The same as it was when I was just a little girl.  It is decorated just how I wanted it to be, like a princess was living in here. 

I look around the room before slowly sitting up.  I wish I could go back to being that little girl, the one before I started remembering.  I think back, trying to figure out why I am in this room, how did I get here? The last thing I remember was Braxton, Parker and I were leaving the college.  I don’t think they took us here. With what Braxton was saying, they wanted to split us up and hide us. I can’t imagine that the witness protection unit thought the best place to hide me was in my old home. This is where I was when I started remembering. Why would they bring me back here?

I am just about to swing my legs over the bed when the door swings open.  I look up and come eye to eye with Parker. He smiles a small smile at me and I do the same in return.  He walks slowly to the bed and sits down, putting my hands in his and squeezes tightly.   His eyes are full of concern and I know I am missing something. Something happened and it was big.

“What’s going on Park? Why are we here?”

I see the stress of whatever is going on flash before his eyes before he closes them and opens them with just a slight amount of sadness. I see through his eyes, he is going to try to protect me. 

“What do you remember Lil?”

“We left the college with Brax.  I don’t know how we got here.”

He looks away and starts to talk, unable to keep eye contact with me while saying whatever he is about to say.  I immediately regret asking. 

“A lot more than that has happened Lil.  You were just in the hospital with a head injury. The doctor says you may have short term memory loss.  He is also concerned with your history of stress induced memory loss that you will have more trouble remembering everything.  I will tell you what I know as you ask but I can’t tell you everything, as I wasn’t there.”

My head is spinning and I want to shut my eyes and go back to my dark place. I have so many questions and I am really upset with him. Why can’t he just tell me everything?

“What do you mean you weren’t there?” I try to push through the black cloud that is working on clouding my memory.  I can’t, it won’t budge. I want to cry in frustration and I start to get a sharp pain in my head the harder I push it.  I open my eyes to see Park unsure if he should answer me.  I am not sure I really want to know. I remember back to the sounds that came from what I am now guessing was my hospital stay.  I remember hearing the heartbreaking news that I had lost someone. If Parker is hesitant about telling me, then I don’t want to know what happened, I don’t want to remember. If my brain is blocking what happened, then I probably can’t handle it. 

              “Don’t tell me right now Park, okay?

His eyes search mine and I see the internal debate on whether he should tell me but I can’t hear it, not right now. The last thing I was unable to remember changed our lives forever.  It wrote our future and wrecked our past.  I know I will eventually remember but right now I don’t want to know. My whole being is exhausted and this may be me being weak, a chicken, a baby, but fuck it—I can’t take anything right now.

“What you need to know, is Gessati is dead. Lilbug, we are free.”

I can’t breathe. I don’t even know how to take that. That is a huge relief but it only brings on more questions that I can’t ask right now. I don’t know why I can’t remember what happened.  Fuck, I don’t even know how much time I lost.

“I will ask soon. I need to know, I don’t want to be in the dark. But what you already told me is too much.  I can’t take anymore right now.  Will you please hold me until I go back to sleep?” The last bit coming out choked between sobs.

It doesn’t take much to convince Park; he knows me better than anyone.  He just nods then comes and envelopes me into his arms.  Giving me my security that my body so desperately needs, I relax and am just about to go to sleep when he whispers into my ear. “I love you Lil, so much. I am so happy you are okay.  We will need to discuss some of this soon, but I will let you wait as long as I can… However, tomorrow, we have to go to a funeral so you will have to face some of it sooner than I wish you did.”

I start to shake and am about to hyperventilate.  Parker reaches over to my medicine bottles and hands me a pill with a small glass of water.  I take it without question and down it.  I settle into him, trying to calm myself down and before I know it the dark envelopes me once again. 

***

Dressed in black, the color that has enveloped me for I don’t know how long should be comforting, but it’s not.  I head down the stairs to meet up with Parker.  Everyone else has gone ahead. It is weird to be here; I haven’t seen anyone else from
before
yet.  I haven’t really seen anyone and to be leaving the house like nothing is out there to get us is something I can’t get used to. I walk with Parker outside and am in awe of the sun and how bright it is shining.  After being in the dark for what feels like so long, I shy away from it—afraid of what the light will bring me. We pull into a church.  The amount of vehicles in all shapes and sizes is overwhelming.  I look at Parker, trying to figure out who all this is for.  He says this is how these kinds of funerals go.  I haven’t asked whose funeral it is or what he means by “these kind of funerals.” I know I should—I know that as soon as I head in there I will know.  But I am hiding from the truth as long as I can.

The walk into the church is long since we had to park so far away. There are hundreds of people here. I take it as a chance to calm my nerves before heading in.  I know all those people are going to know more about what happened than I do.  I am sure they are going to look at me and give me the same sad eyes Parker does.  He takes my hand, giving it a squeeze as we cross over the entrance. He pulls me tight against him and I am thankful.  I stare at the ground because I can’t look around.  If he wasn’t here, I wouldn’t have been able to move. 

We are ushered toward the front and I sit on the inside of Parker, continuing to look at the ground.  Someone sits next to me and I don’t bother to see who it is.  There are whispers surrounding me, causing me to try to cut them off. I strain to listen to the music playing, giving it my full attention.  I am fooling myself if I think that I can hide from this any longer but I continue to do all I can to not look at anyone, to not look at the front to see who we are here for.  I am afraid that when I do it will trigger everything that my brain is hiding from me.  I know my body is shielding me from what it knows I can’t handle and I feel like this is forcing its hand.  

Then the music quiets, the voices quiet down, and I hold my breath.  There is a small commotion at the front of the church and I almost give in to see what is going on, but I don’t.  I also try to listen for the music, wishing I could use it as my escape, even though I know that it won’t be back, not anytime soon.

“Today we are here to mourn not just a member of our family and not just a friend, today we mourn a hero.   A hero who always went above and beyond his call of duty.”

I tune out for a bit, tears starting to flood my eyes uncontrollably. I still refuse to see which one of my hero’s is missing.  I have had a lot of law enforcement in and out of my life and I don’t know how to take losing someone else who I have relied upon.  Then the person up front says something that causes me to look up and meet his eyes.   He gives me the name out loud.  One that causes me so much pain that I can’t explain, I don’t even know how to think anymore, I can’t tell myself to breathe, or even blink. I pray for the blackness to take me back—to open its arms and let me crawl back in. I want to be numb, and I want to never feel again.

“Today we pay our respects to someone who deserves more of a life than he was given.  He dedicated his life to the force and the world is losing a great officer. Special Agent Braxton Matthews may be gone but he will never be forgotten.”

I close my eyes tighter, needing to get away, welcoming the darkness to return. Both my hands were taken and are being squeezed by the people next to me.  I know one belongs to Parker, and as I stare at the other hand I can tell that it is male.  I should pull away, I don’t know who this person is, but I can’t. This person’s touch is causing my arm to warm and a small amount of calmness to come over me.  I selfishly take all of the calmness I can.

We continue to sit through the service just like our world hasn’t been torn to shreds. I spend the whole time staring down at my hands entwined with others, noticing the knuckles on their hands whitening on and off when I accidently squeeze them too tight. My vision blurs multiple times throughout the service while my tears come and go, as I try to come to terms with what is going on.

I don’t know what happened, and it is killing me. However, since my last memory he was with me, I have a feeling this is somehow my fault.  I wish I never remembered and even if I still had to have that memory, why did I ever say anything?  If I would have just kept my mouth shut, Braxton would still be alive.

The funeral finishes and I drop the hand that isn’t Parker’s.  I still refuse to see who it belongs to—I don’t know why but I have one of those weird feelings where you know you shouldn’t do something.  It’s like when you are headed somewhere, and decide to take an alternate route; one that will probably take you out of your way but for no known reason you have to go that way, then later you are watching the news and you see that you avoided being in a large accident.  That’s how I feel right now. If I give in and see whose hand had warmed me and made me feel just a little bit better, I feel as though my life would be wrecked.

I keep a strong hold of Parker’s hand and am practically on his back with how close I am.  I follow him the whole way out. He gets stopped and shakes hands, and talks to a few people, but I don’t care.  I am sure I look like his crazy sister but I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want to see anyone. I want to go home and back to the comfort of my darkness. 

We are finally in the safety of his car and I am told that we can’t go home yet, we have to go to the grave site.  I sigh and agree.  Braxton deserves to have people showing their respect.  I should be the one in the ground not him, this is my fault entirely anyway.  If anyone should be there to pay their respects to him, it should be me.  Parker explains that when a law enforcement officer dies there is a certain order to who follows who in the procession.  I nod in understanding than stare out the window, watching the amazing procession start.

It is beautiful to see how everyone comes together in times like these.  I watch as multiple police motorcycles head out first, followed by the hearse, and then start the rainbow of colored police cars, as there are so many different divisions being represented today.  I continue to watch the flow and get almost excited when we start to go as it is so overwhelming to be a part of this. 

The drive isn’t far and we continue to sit in quiet.  I know Parker wants me to ask how this happened, he wants me to know. I probably need to know but I won’t ask.  I can’t ask.

I gasp as we pull into the cemetery and are greeted with so many fire trucks with their ladders raised. They are joining together above our car, making an arch for us to drive under, with flags attached to the top of each one.  I start to cry again at the sight—this is exactly the funeral that Braxton deserves.  I don’t know why, but I know I owe my whole life to him.

I still refuse to look at anyone’s face when I head toward the grave site.  I see everyone’s shoes though and amazed at how many different types of black shoes people were able to find; nobody having the same pair.  I am such a mess. Braxton is dead and I am comparing funeral shoes.  I almost give in and look around at all the faces but I stop myself.  Seeing other people will only make this more real. I am seated in a chair in the front row.  Parker again sits on my right and I see a dress to his right, I assume it is Mrs. Matthews. 

I can feel the chairs around us filling and I stare at the empty hole in the ground. Then the service starts.  The Preacher starts to speak.  As he is talking, I see 6 pairs of legs come to view as they carry in Braxton’s casket.  Once they lay him on the braces holding him above the empty ground, they back away. One of them finding the chair next to mine and taking my hand in his again.  I know it is the same hand that warmed me with comfort at the funeral and again I refuse to see who the hand belongs to.  As I did earlier, I continue to stare at the hands holding mine, avoiding everything around me when both hands get squeezed by a new pair of hands. I glance up a little to see the dress that was next to Parker standing directly in front of me.  This is it, I can’t hide anymore. 

I let my eyes travel up the dress inch by inch, as slowly as physically possible.  I see a flag folded into a perfect triangle being held out right in front of my eyes, by Mrs. Matthews.  I try to hold back the sobs, but what she says next breaks me.

“Lil, sweetheart, this belongs to you.”

I tried to interrupt her but she stopped me by putting her hand on my lips, her hand trembling as much as my lip is.  Then she crouches down in front of me and I have a flash of a memory of Braxton doing the same thing to comfort me.