Page 25 of Broken

Chapter 11

Cole was suspended in a dim fog, nothing anchoring him to the ground. To anything.

It wasn’t completely dark, but he couldn’t tell where the light was coming from. It was just… there.

And then, floating into his view, surrounded by a faint red glow, was…

Riker.

Cole groaned. “Shit,” he muttered. “I’m in hell. This is hell, isn’t it?”

Riker smirked. “You had to know we’d both end up there. Unless you have a better opinion of me than I ever dreamed, or a better opinion of yourself than you deserve.”

“Shut the fuck up, Riker,” Cole said. “You’re dead. I don’t have to listen to you.”

“But you do,” he said, the smirk even more obvious. “You don’t know what she did. Do you?”

“Tried to save me and failed.”

Cole felt regret about that, so Ireland had been right after all. Regret over how much it would hurt her, seeing yet another ally die protecting her. He knew what that could do to a person, and felt his own regret that he’d left her with that burden.

And Riker, the bastard, was laughing.

“Oh, no,” he said. “She saved you. That’s what she does. She saves people. Even me. She drags them out of the darkness, kicking and screaming, and makes them a better person. Whether they want to be or not.”

Cole snorted. “No one can make me a better person. Especially not that little pointy-eared fairy.”

“Just wait,” Riker said. “And the best part is, I’m going to have a front-row seat.”

He faded away, but Cole could still hear him laughing…

Cole felt a stinging blow on his face, and then another. From what seemed like a long distance away, he heard Ireland say, “Don’t you dare die. Do you hear me? I’m not putting up with that kind of defeatist bullshit.” She smacked him again. “You. (smack). “Will. (smack). “Live.” Extra-hard smack.

With great effort, Cole opened his eyes. He felt like he’d been pulverized with a jackhammer. “Do I have to?” he muttered.

Ireland’s eyes went wide. “You’re alive!” She leaned over and kissed him full on the mouth.

If he hadn’t already been alive, that would have brought him back from the dead. Life and light, warm fires and bursting flowers and springtime and hope.

He’d dreamed he was in hell. Maybe it was heaven?

No. Heaven didn’t hurt this much. And Riker definitely wasn’t there.

He looked up at Ireland. “Jeez, Tinkerbell. What the hell did you do?”

She didn’t answer directly, which was a bad sign. “You were dying,” she said softly. She reached out and barely touched his leg.

“I know that,” he said. “I—” He looked down at his leg, and all the words left his lips. It was healed. There was a jagged bright red scar across it, but the skin had healed over, the muscles were all in place.

And the bone was healed too. He could feel it.

“What the fuck?” he whispered. It was impossible. “How did you do that?” If she’d had healing powers, she would have used them on Riker. But she’d said the bracelet was supposed to heal him.

The bracelet.

Cole looked down at his wrist. It was encased in a cuff of gold. He raised his eyes to hers. They were wide and deep as the ocean, staring into his soul.

Then, very slowly, he reached down and tried to take the bracelet off.