Beautiful Delusions: Pride and Honor, #1

Beautiful Delusions

Ember-Raine Winters

2016 All Rights Reserved

Beautiful Delusions

Copyright © 2016 Ember-Raine Winters

Editor: Randie Creamer

Formatter: Ember-Raine Winters

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

 Thank you to my family and friends for all of your support.

My amazingly fantastic editor Randie! I couldn’t have done it without you!

All the new friends I made on Goodreads, while creating this book. You all helped me a lot! Thank you!

Dedication

This book was written for anyone who suffers from one of the many forms of PTSD and those who have loved ones who suffer from it. You are not alone.

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

Chapter seventeen

Chapter eighteen

Chapter nineteen

Chapter twenty

Chapter twenty-one

Chapter twenty-two

Chapter twenty-three

Chapter twenty-four

Chapter twenty-five

Chapter twenty-six

Chapter twenty-seven

Chapter twenty-eight

Chapter twenty-nine

Chapter thirty

Chapter thirty-one

Chapter thirty-two

Chapter thirty-three

Chapter thirty-four

Chapter thirty-five

Chapter thirty-six

Chapter thirty-seven

Chapter thirty-eight

chapter thirty-nine

Sneak Peek

prologue

It was the worst bad date in the history of bad dates. I almost started mainlining shots of vodka just to get through the madness, but I had to drive home. I never could stand Indian food. I had mentioned that to Jake when we spoke on that stupid dating site.

Why I ever let anyone talk me into getting on that stupid site was beyond me. Guys on those sites are neurotic messes only looking for one thing, and Jake turned out to be the worst of them all. Our poor waitress was almost in tears by the time the date had ended, and I was seeing red. It was no wonder the asshole was newly divorced.

You can tell a lot about a person based on how they treat people--especially the people who serve your food. I could tell that Jake was a snob and one of the most impatient people I had ever met. He was definitely not someone I would ever bring around my kids.

That was how I found myself driving down the dark freeway fuming on my way home. I was going down a mountain pass trying to get back to my little town to pick up my kids from my parents’ house, so I could go back to our little apartment and open a much needed beer and drink my anger away. That never happened though.

I was heading down a precarious drop off that I drove by everyday on my way home from L.A., when I saw a man walking down the shoulder. It was dark, but his face was illuminated in my headlights. I was filled with dread as realization dawned on me. His eyes looked black in my headlights. His head was shaved and he had the scar down his right cheek. He was as muscled as ever, and it had been years since I had seen his face. But, it was a face I would never forget. I was transported to another place when I saw the eyes that haunted my every dream and many, many memories.

My mom was calling. Fear filled me. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I was too tired and sore to think of a way out of this one. I asked her not to call me on his phone. I told her that I would find a way to call her later. If he found out I was trying to leave he would kill me for sure. She didn't realize that he always had me talk to people on speaker phone.

There never was any privacy. So, when she started talking about the next train and getting me out of there, I saw the minute the realization dawned on him. The look on his face transformed instantly from passive to thunderous.

I tried to tell her that everything was okay and not to worry about me that I was fine being there with Tyler. It didn't change the look of pure rage that coated his features though. The second I hung up the phone he was in motion hitting and kicking me, screaming in my face about what a stupid bitch I was. I ended up on the floor clutching my head, but it didn't help.

He picked up a log from the fireplace and swung it at me as hard as he could, hitting me in the ribs repeatedly and then in the head. It was a few minutes later when he realized the neighbors could probably hear my screams, and he took off. I sagged to the ground and began to cry.

The worst part of the flashbacks I suffer from is that I feel everything as if it’s happening all over again. All the fear and pain. The guilt and the grief fill my body as I watch horrible memories from my past play out before my eyes. I can’t stop them and anything can trigger a flashback.

I woke up briefly—not long enough to know what had happened. My truck was in a ditch, and I felt a wet sticky substance sliding down the side of my face. I looked up to the road where my truck had obviously careened off the side.

The man with the evil eyes was smirking down at me before he turned around and walked away. The truck slid down the hill some more before it hit a tree and everything went black.

one

kaylee

The crazy thing about the whole situation was that I didn’t even remember driving off the road into the ravine. One minute I was having one of the most intense flashbacks that I had ever had, and the next I was waking up in the hospital two weeks later with my arms strapped down and my whole family was crying around me.

I struggled to lift my arms but they wouldn't move. My mouth and throat were so dry it felt like I had swallowed sand.

Water, I croaked and everyone looked at me in shock.

It took a minute before anyone moved. I wanted the use of my hands, but everyone just stared. Finally my mom snapped out of it and went to get me a cup of water. She held it up to my mouth and I guzzled it down, but it barely provided any relief.

Why am I tied down? I asked after the second cup was gone, no longer feeling like I swallowed glass.

You were thrashing in your sleep. They didn't want you to hurt yourself, honey. My dad was still looking at me as though I was about to self-combust.

Well, can you take them off, now?

Kaylee, we have to wait for the doctors. They want to do a psych evaluation. They won't remove the restraints until they are sure you aren't a danger to yourself anymore, my mom added, oh so helpfully.

You have got to be kidding me! If I could have, I would have ripped the restraints off. I was in a car accident—I didn't try to kill myself. Is that what you think?

By the guilty looks on their faces, I was guessing that was exactly what they thought. I shook my head in disgust. I couldn't believe they would actually think I would do that.

Where are the kids? Are they okay? Who has them, if you’re all sitting here? I was dreading the answer. I had a good idea who had my kids and it was not making the situation any better. I glared at my mother, and I knew without a doubt. She just shook her head—there was no point in asking. She sent the kids to be with their father, Brendan. One of the two asshole men from my past.

Looking at Tara, who was sitting across the room with my brother, Billy, I asked, What about you? My sister-in-law shook her head. Well at least someone has some faith in me, I muttered and my parents flinched.

You have to see it from our point of view, my mom tried to explain. You drove your truck into a ditch. There were no other cars and no witnesses on the scene. The police said it looked like a suicide attempt.

The stupidest suicide attempt they had ever seen, Billy interjected. Mom glared at him.

That's because it wasn't a suicide attempt, I groaned. Don't you think if I were going to attempt suicide, I would think of something a little more creative then driving my truck into a ditch?

My mom sucked in a breath as both Tara and Billy snickered across the room. My dad shot me a stern glare, and I snickered right along with them.

Can we please get the shrink in here then? I can't feel my fingers, and I need to get home to the kids. I was done with this whole thing. My head hurt and my brain was in a fog. They had my bed laid all the way down. It was uncomfortable having to look up at every one. I don't know how anyone could sleep like that. My mom walked out muttering something about impatient children and I rolled my eyes.

When the shrink walked in, he looked at me with something like pity in his eyes. I blew out a breath and waited for him to speak.

Miss Robbins, do you want to tell me why you tried to kill yourself?

Boom. He came out with the big guns straight out of the gate.

I didn't, I said shortly.

Well, your chart says that you drove your truck into a ditch. Seems as though the kind doctor had already made up his mind.

Yes.

Why?

PTSD. Looks like we were in a battle of the one-word answers. The doctor just stood there, nodding his head slowly.

Well, yes, I saw that you were diagnosed with it a few years ago. That's why they called me in for a psych eval.

Look, I really needed to contain my anger but waking up in a hospital bed and still being tied down was not helping, I saw someone walking down the freeway. It was my abuser. He found me and I had a flashback. The next thing I knew I was waking up here.

Miss Robbins, the couple who found you said there was no one else there. The police found no evidence of another person anywhere near the crash site, he answered smugly.

The evaluation didn't last much longer. I pissed the shrink off when I called him a hack and he left the room in a huff. It didn't bode well for the results of my psych eval, but they did eventually take the restraints off me.

The worst part of it all was the fact that they still believed I tried to commit suicide, no matter what I said. They had me committed for seventy-two hour full psych evaluation.

The betrayal I felt getting left in there for three days, while not the worst I had ever felt, was still hard to believe. My sister-in-law visited everyday; she was the only one who actually believed me. Tara, like me, had some pretty traumatic stuff happen in her life and she suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) as well.

Our only difference—she was getting help. I had stopped trying. Every time I did, they wanted to send me to group domestic violence counseling. I didn't want to tell a room full of people just how fucked up I really was. I figured it would be bad enough telling someone who had a degree in psychology, who was helping people for a living. I judged myself enough without having a bunch of other people sitting around judging me as well. I was ashamed of what I had become. 

So Kaylee, I spoke to my therapist and he knows someone who might be able to help you, Tara told me on the last day of my three-day stint in the ward.

Really? Leave it to my family to wait until there is a near death experience to acknowledge that there may be a problem.

Yeah, he has a colleague who is ex-special forces and an expert on PTSD. He said that he should be able to help you get through this. I knew this was hard on her, watching me struggle, knowing I had refused help before.

Thanks Tara, I don't know what I would do without you. I reached over and gave the woman I considered my true sister a hug.

Good thing you never have to find out, she winked. Okay, so here's the thing, they said you could go home as soon as you agreed to go to counseling. But, you’re not going to like the other stip.

How bad could it possibly be? I laughed. At this point I would do anything to get to go home.

Well…they said until you get a handle on the flashbacks there’s no more driving, she said with a wince.

What the fuck? You can't be serious! I have been driving for close to nine years with this shit running through my head constantly. It's never been more than an inconvenience.

Hey, don't shoot the messenger. I'm just telling you what the doctors said. You could have died, chica. Who would I open a bakery with, then?

Haha you're so funny. Of course you would make it about you. I had to give it to her, she certainly knew how to bring me back around.

Bitch, of course it's about me, she said with mock indignation.

Okay, so who is driving Ms. Daisy? I was almost afraid to ask.

Well, your mom said she would drive you sometimes, she started. I quickly interrupted.

Ha, as long as it's before noon, right? I said sardonically. Tara rolled her eyes and gave me a fake stern look.

As I was saying, she continued, I will pick you up for the gym, and if you make your therapy appointments for the same time as mine we can go together.

I groaned. She was entirely too happy about going to therapy together. After spending three days in mental hospital hell, I was not looking forward to seeing another shrink.

Come on, it's not that bad. We both know you should have been in therapy a long time ago. Nine years is way too long to let this go untreated, especially as many times as you have driven across town and had no idea how you got there. I am surprised something like this didn't happen a lot sooner. And I hate to throw the big guns at you, but you need to get healthy for Lance and Leanne. This time her stern look was for real.

Okay, okay, I know. I will give this Special Forces shrink a shot. But, if for one minute he treats me like this isn't a real problem, I am going to punch him. And then, I am coming after your ass, I said in all seriousness. I could only imagine the chauvinistic shit that could come out of this guy’s mouth. Just because I hadn’t been to war, didn’t mean I wasn’t fighting my own battles with PTSD.

How about this, she replied with a cheeky grin, if he does, I will hold him down for you and then you run like hell. We both got a good laugh at that visual, and were still giggling when the sunny-dispositioned nurse walked in.

Are you ready to go home Miss Robbins? she asked cheerfully. God, could she do anything but cheerful? It was truly annoying.

Definitely, let's blow this Popsicle stand, I replied eagerly and started to stand.

Hold on, the doctor has some orders for you, she said hastily, all while maintaining that irritating sweet southern drawl. I groaned.

Oh, come now it's not so bad.

For you maybe, you can still drive, I snarled.

Don't forget the pills that make you feel like a zombie, Tara added with a smirk. I shot her a glare.

Oh now you two, cut it out, nurse Rose huffed. Ha! I knew between Tara and I we could bring her down a notch.

Don't lie, you know your job is so much more entertaining with us around, I said with a grin.

You are right, but I don't want to see you back in here Kaylee. No more driving until you get these hallucinations under control, ‘ya hear?

Rose, you know they aren't hallucinations, right? They are flash backs of things that have already happened. I'm not crazy. I huffed, exasperated. She had the nerve to smile. As much as I liked Nurse Rose I couldn’t stand her constant sweetness. I was so ready to go home.

two

griffin

I was sitting in the office of my penthouse apartment talking to my brother Trey, about a new job with the security business I owned, when the phone rang. I looked down at the caller id. Hi John.

Griffin, I have a patient you might want to meet, he said by way of greeting.

John, I told you I'm not seeing any patients anymore. My security firm is too busy, and we just keep getting busier, I replied annoyed. We’d had this conversation. I was happy now doing the security work. John knew why I got out of therapy.

I'm telling you, Griffin, this is a patient I know you want to see, he replied cryptically.

Okay, fine, I'll bite. I ran my fingers through my hair, preparing for a conversation I didn’t want to have. Who is this patient?

Her name is Kaylee Robbins. Her sister-in-law is a patient of mine. Seems Kaylee just drove her truck off the freeway into a ditch two weeks ago, and she claims it was because of PTSD, he answered.

I only heard about half of what he said because once I heard the name Kaylee Robbins my brain fogged over. John of all people knew why I got into therapy in the first place. I knew after what her brother Billy had told me all those years ago that she would eventually need help. I wanted to be the one to help her, and if I couldn't be that person, then I’d at least had the opportunity to help others.

Kaylee Robbins? I saw Trey’s head jerk up.

Yes, John continued, she either gets help to control her PTSD or they are going to commit her. After reviewing her file, I doubt committing her will help.

Call the sister-in-law and tell her I will do it. Can I use one of your empty offices? I asked him. Trey gave me an incredulous look.

No problem. I will let her know, he said and hung up the phone.

Kaylee? Trey asked. Is it really Kay-Kay?

I think so, I replied, rubbing my eyes with two fingers. I need you to take point on the hacker case.

I could have sworn his face paled a bit when I said those words, but he quickly schooled his features and nodded. I didn't know what his deal was, but I was praying it wasn’t going to interfere with the investigation.

This is a huge government contract, Trey. We could get more work from them if we do a good job on this one.

I know, I know, he replied stubbornly.

Then what's the problem? I asked. I would think this is right up your alley.

I just don't know if I agree with having someone arrested who is exposing the corruption in our government.

Look, just find the guy. Find out whatever you can about him. See if there is anything else in his closet other than exposing corruption that they can get him on. If there is nothing else we will sit on the information, deal?

The relief on his face was palpable. I was starting to worry about my little brother, hoping he wasn't into something bad. The concern must have shown through on my face because he schooled his features again and changed the subject.

So, Kaylee needs help?

Yeah, she drove her truck into a ditch. I spoke to Billy a few years ago and he told me some pretty messed up shit happened to her. She obviously never got help for her problems, I sighed heavily.

Just thinking about the sweet, funny Kaylee getting into drugs and almost dying at the hands of some asshole made my stomach turn. Even though I had only heard things from Billy’s point of view, I knew it was bad. The guilt nearly strangled me when I thought about it. Damn near setting me back years in my own recovery from PTSD.

Hey, we were kids when all that shit happened, Trey said, attempting to reassure me. You couldn't have known that she would spiral out of control.

This from the guy who hated me for years because of what I did back then.

He flinched briefly and then looked at me sympathetically. I hated that look. I was ex-special forces—I didn't do sympathy.

Don't look at me that way. I don't need your sympathy, or your pity. I'm dealing with my shit, my own way.

Okay. Trey stood up, was smart enough to know it was time he probably left me be. Well, I’ll get started on the hacker job. Let me know when I can see Kay. And, Griffin, he said, looking directly at me before walking out, I want to apologize for my part in that high school nonsense.

I nodded. I really don't know how she is going to respond to all this being forced on her right now. But, I will let you know how it goes.

After Trey left I called John back to get more details. This girl Kaylee? She about thirty and has a brother named Billy?

You know the confidentiality laws, Griffin, but my patient spoke to me about her often, she’s been worried about Kaylee a long time. Look, I just want to see this girl get the help she needs. And yes, her brother’s name is Billy, he all but whispered.

"Do you know what hospital