Silent screams the hollo.., p.1
Silent Screams (The Hollow Series Book 1), page 1
Copyright © 2024 M . H . B .
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on by the subsequent purchaser.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Edited by: Evident Ink
Cover Art by: Qamber Designs
Formatting Design by: Champagne Book Design
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
BOOKS BY M . H . B .
DEDICATION
EPIGRAPH
ABOUT THIS BOOK
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
COMING SOON
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT M . H . B .
The Cross Series
Invisible Leash
Invisible Masterpiece
Fairytale Wrath
The Hollow Series
Silent Screams
Grieving Graves
To the Quiet, Rebelling Souls
we both drowned
under the waves
of words
we weren’t saying
—ben maxfield
One accident.
Two men.
Almost three years of despair.
Four beating hearts growing in pain.
Five lives forever changed.
Everything fell apart in the blink of an eye.
These days my own misery keeps me company.
I never thought this would be me—a twenty-four-year-old—stuck in a dead-end relationship.
Gone are the thrilling adventures with Harvey Stark.
Gone is his smile.
Gone is the sight of his dimples and the sparkle in his bright blue eyes
He’s changed into a hollow version of himself and I’m just a shadow following him around our home.
Then I meet my new boss. Damon Dreygon challenges me in ways I never knew existed and makes me believe in myself again. Our souls match instantly, and meeting Damon feels like a step towards peace.
Except it’s not. Because everyone grieves differently.
While one man refuses to touch me, the other won’t love me.
And I’m crawling through the crippling chaos, barely holding on . . .
Everything feels different.
And I can’t even pinpoint a reason.
All I know is that I feel a massive shift in my life approaching, as if millions of tiny magical particles are swirling around me, readying me for a new one.
“Why holes?” my two-year-old niece, Athena, asks, dragging me out of my reverie as she plays with the frills of my ripped black jeans.
“Because Aunt Gemma can rock it, honey,” my sister tells her.
Here we are, at her place, on an early Thursday morning of January, baking muffins.
Athena’s day is brightened by the chocolate chips she gets to munch on while Gia talks smack about her husband, James, and his ability to wake her up when he goes to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
She’s whipping up the batter when I ask her how she’s feeling—she’s pregnant with baby number two—while I nod at whatever she’s saying.
I love her to death, but Gia doesn’t come with a mute button. How she ended up being more extroverted than a clown and I, more introverted than a shadow, is beyond me.
“So, what are you up to tomorrow?” my sister asks before putting the banana-and-chocolate chip muffins inside the oven.
“I have an interview at an environmental consulting firm.”
“No way! Where?”
“Downtown.”
She gives me an encouraging smile. I can tell she wants to say more—she’s dying to. As a soon-to-be psychologist currently finishing her master’s in psychology and working on her thesis, Gia never lets an opportunity to listen and give advice slip by.
She wipes her hands on a kitchen cloth, staring at me. “Gem, that’s amazing. It’s time, don’t you think?”
Time.
Time for what? Time to get my life together? Time to follow my career path?
I think of Harvey, of what we had, of who I want us to be. The reality of what we are is enough to tarnish all hope blooming inside me, like a dark, cold night taking over.
I clear my throat. “Sure. It’s for an executive assistant position, but I hope to branch out eventually to their science department.” Plus, if I choose to do a master’s in conservation biology one day, every bit of workplace experience can help.
“Makes sense. It’s a great way to get through the door. What’s it called?” She opens Google on her laptop as she asks this. I grab it from her and type in: Dreygon Environmental Consulting Firm, downtown Chicago.
I don’t even get to search for a second before she steals it from my hands, whistling as she goes. “CEO’s hot. Young, too—twenty-nine.” She smirks, turning the laptop my way.
And there he is. My potential future boss. Dark brown hair, brown eyes so dark they look like colored contacts.
“That’s beside the point.”
She winks. “What happens with Harvey if you get it?”
“Claire will take on more hours.”
“Right, her.” Her brow lifts in response. “The pretty-ish nurse.”
I can’t shake off the nagging feeling I’ve had since Claire became Harvey’s nurse a few weeks ago after his parents hired her. I don’t know why; she’s nice. Maybe it’s the fact that Harv seems to have taken a liking to her.
I sigh, heading toward the corner where Athena’s playing. “She’s good at her job, okay?”
My sister purses her lips and refrains from saying more.
We spend the morning eating our muffins and playing with Athena though I can’t stop focusing on how to tell Harv about my job interview. I’m not sure what he’ll say when I tell him.
I haven’t been away from him much since the accident that led to his paralysis, save for my research assistant job at my college, which allowed me to work both from home and on campus. The job I’m interviewing for doesn’t come with that flexibility, but my research contract has ended, and this potential job is offering a competitive salary.
Gia joins me on the couch after I help her tidy the kitchen.
“Have you told Harvey?” She hands me a cup of mint tea.
I shake my head.
“Are you worried about what he’ll say?”
I look at Athena, grateful for the distraction—she’s putting dress-up heels on her doll.
Gia waits. And waits.
“I’m just so used to being home with him. Working farther away would be an adjustment, that’s all.”
She places her head on my shoulder. “Gem, he’s a big boy.”
I nod, knowing what she’s asking me to do. What I should be doing. But to stop something you’ve been doing for two and a half years isn’t necessarily easy.
“Sure, sure.” I tell her. We drink our tea in silence, watching Athena, the light in my life, play grown-up. If only she knew how little fun being a grown-up truly is.
When I arrive home later in the afternoon, I mentally prepare myself for the interview using online questions. Then I research the company’s history and more about my potential boss, Damon Dreygon. Many pictures of him show up at worldwide conferences and events. I continue my search until I find an article that includes his name on the list of multi-millionaires.
Interesting. How do you become a multi-millionaire by having an environmentally friendly firm? Unless his parents are loaded.
I snap out of it, realizing I’m taking this way too seriously. The odds are he won’t be the one to interview me. Besides, if I’m too desperate—which I am—they’ll smell the fear all over me.
I need this job to pay off a line of credit I took out after Harvey’s accident. I also want to buy him a modified car that’s fit for him to drive.
An hour passes before I jump in the shower. I shave all over and lather on way too much apple cider shampoo in my hair.
I close my eyes and breathe in deeply, the warm water soothing my aching body. It’s not from physical pain—it’s from emotional turmoil. I can almost feel the impact o
I rinse off and step out of the shower, drying myself. My reflection appears in the mirror. I see that I’ve lost more weight, which isn’t a good look considering I’m already on the thin side.
A knock on the door stirs me away from my mind-wandering.
“Gemma, it’s Claire.”
I wrap a towel around my body, folding it at the top before I open the door of the bathroom.
“I’m heading out for the day, alright?” she says, looking at my shoulders, then my arms. “You . . . lost weight.”
I bite my tongue; she looks genuinely concerned. And I’m not Gia. I can’t hate this girl because she’s pretty and doing a hell of a good job. I just can’t.
That’s not me.
“I’m working on it.”
“I can make dinner if you want?” she looks hopeful.
“No, Claire. You do enough. Thanks, though.” She gives me an awkward smile, then walks away. I close the door behind me and lean on it, needing a second to recover.
Then I dress and make myself look nice. I even add on mascara with a few strokes of blush and some tinted lip balm.
Ready to give this—us, another try.
I’m dressed in black jeans and my black Harry Potter T-shirt with the glasses and the lightning bolt on it when I walk to the kitchen.
Harvey’s in his room, playing on his PlayStation. We used to play together at the beginning of our relationship. I beat his ass more than a couple of times. Now he prefers to be alone, so I let him.
I cook the steaks and potatoes and serve salad onto two plates. The light snow falling from the sky outside is beautiful, though I can’t wait for summer.
To feel the wind, the sun, even the humidity.
The thought brings me back to old memories of us going on motorcycle rides together. I was nineteen when I bought my own bike instead of using my dad’s. I didn’t have it for long, unfortunately. While Gia saved for her wedding, I saved for a piece of metal.
The metal was part of my life. Part of me.
A black ZX-6R 636cc. Such a beauty. Even more so when I eventually added some gold details to it. Now it’s gone and so is the thrill and joy it brought me.
Once dinner is ready and set, I knock on Harvey’s bedroom door, then open it.
“Dinner’s ready,” I say enthusiastically.
All I see is the quick nod of his head, his way of acknowledging me. I cross my arms, staring at his posture. His taut shoulder muscles are visible above his wheelchair. As I make my way to his lowered bed, my eyes drift to his blond hair.
Silence.
I loved our silent moments once.
Now they’re filled with inexplicable anger mixed with a sprinkle of love and loyalty.
From my view, I can see the veins popping out of his forearms. That’s his daily dose of exercise, playing on that machine. It does nothing for his morale, nothing for his positivity, nothing for his physical therapy. All that PlayStation does is keep him entertained enough to avoid me all day.
I wish I could throw it out of the window or run it over with our van.
I want my Harvey back, but I’m afraid he’s long gone in a world where I’m not sure I belong.
“You coming?” He nods again, and I leave for the kitchen.
Our plates are on the table when he wheels himself into the room, using the strength of his body to push himself out of his wheelchair and onto the low-seated chair.
I welcome the pride I feel for him, for he wasn’t able to lift himself up this way right after the accident. His ability to hoist himself onto his bed or a chair has brought definition back to his stomach. Something I know matters to him.
We eat in silence. And it’s such a contrast to the chatty guy Harvey used to be. He was the life of the party. Now he’s living, but not on the edge. I can’t even remember the last time he smiled.
“This is good. Thank you.” His chin points to the piece of steak on his fork.
I smile. “You’re welcome.”
He looks around at the dimmed lights, the candle in the center of the table.
Does he know? Does he know how badly I want this, us, to work? I’d do just about anything. If only he’d smile and be the happy Harvey he used to be.
I miss seeing his dimples.
I miss him.
I cut off a piece of steak, chewing slowly, pushing back the seconds before I break the news to him. Though I’ve stalled enough all week as it is.
“I have an interview tomorrow.”
His brow rises, his eyes fixated on our backyard. “Where?” He sips on his water.
“Downtown. At a consulting firm—environmental.”
The stern look of his blue eyes is like a jab of fire against my heart. They were always the key to the tunnel of his soul, a soul I got lost in and consumed by when we first met.
Still am today.
“Good luck. It’s in your field, so that’s good, right?”
“Yeah. It’s an assistant position, but it’s a start. You know I’ll still be here if you need me . . .”
A warm palm covers my hand, making me feel fuzzy and cozy inside.
Maybe this can work. I want to try to work on us again. He’s been in a better mood lately, and I shouldn’t let it go to waste.
How I yearn for his attention, for his affection, for his awareness.
How can a simple touch set fire to the insides of your soul, of your heart?
A sense of victory washes over me, hoping, pleading silently, that my game plan for tonight goes as thought out.
“Don’t worry about me. Besides, I have Claire.” And just like that, he lets go of my hand to finish his meal. I leave mine untouched, my mind frozen as I look away from him.
He couldn’t have delivered a lower blow.
I keep telling myself he likes her as his nurse and trainer, but I’m not sure.
“Are you gonna finish that?” He looks at my unfinished food. I shake my head and push the plate in front of him.
“Dig in.” I force a small smile to my lips.
Because I’m strong; I’m not weak.
I can wade through life like anybody else. I can handle his friendship with Claire. I’m patient with him, and I wait for him to achieve his goals all on his own.
His physical therapist, Stefan McKleen, believed that if pushed harder, Harvey could end up walking longer distances with or without braces.
The majority of people who started rehab at the same level and time as Harvey ended up with an amount of walking within the first year, whereas Harvey’s recovery has been quite different.
I’ve tried to encourage him to push past his mental block, but it hasn’t worked. All that my pushing him has done is to put more distance between us. And the truth is, I’m no expert.
So after his previous nurse quit to continue her education, I spoke to his parents, and they hired Claire. Harv gets along with Claire, and on top of being a recent graduate and passing her nurse licensing exam, she has a degree in physical therapy and is registered as a physical therapy assistant, which makes her able to keep up with Harvey’s daily PT treatments.
Harvey’s independent.
On paper, Claire helps with bladder and pill management, though he can handle both on his own. She’s merely there to ensure he gets some fresh air and to encourage him to move his body using the exercises McKleen prescribes.
I stop daydreaming, knowing my comment about my plate would’ve warranted a wink in the past, as he’d often finish my food for me.
No winks this time. No more holding hands.
Nothing but a cold silence that spreads through me like foggy windows. Draining me of good memories, of big laughter and happy thoughts. Instead, the haze occupies my brain, drowning out more happiness as the months pass by, and I don’t like this.
I don’t want to live like this. Alive, surviving, yet not truly living.
What happened to the old me? The one that sought adventure. I’m not convinced I’ll ever get her back.
I clean up, then we make our way to the couch. Some nights, such as tonight, he stays in his wheelchair instead of transferring to the couch.
It makes me wonder if he sometimes does it to keep me away.
Or perhaps he’s feeling numb, as he has some sensation in different areas of both legs, and I’m being selfish making this about me.
“I’ll be back. You pick,” I throw him the remote, though I have no intention of watching TV tonight.
