Wicked Angel

by Sawyer Bennett

  Jorie pushes up, moves her ass onto the side of the couch near my hip, and gives me a concerned glance. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because he’s not here,” I mutter almost petulantly.

  “But you said he’s on call,” she replies with a frown.

  I sigh, knowing I’m not making sense. “Yeah… I know. He’s on call. But I think he took it on purpose to avoid me.”

  “Okay, slow down… back up. Start from the beginning and tell me what’s going on, because just the day before yesterday when we talked, everything was going fabulously. You even told me you were fairly sure you were falling in love with him.”

  That’s true. I’d confided that to my best friend, which meant it was true. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise, and I still feel that way. It’s why it hurts so bad he’s not here right now, or at least doing a bit better job of checking in on me.

  I’ve never really told Jorie anything Benjamin discussed with me about the way he lived the past year. I think she’s surmised some of it, but the things Benjamin has told me directly I’ve held close between us and won’t share.

  But I do my best to describe the hurdles we’ve had to overcome. “Benjamin, as you can imagine, had sort of shut himself off from the world after the accident.”

  Jorie nods. She knows this.

  “It was not only his way of burying the pain of his losses, but also ensuring it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Don’t ever care for someone, then you’ll never be hurt when that person is taken away,” she summarizes.

  “Exactly,” I say. “And well… Benjamin and I have developed feelings for each other. He’s risked his heart to open up, and I think what happened to me might have been a very stark reminder of why he had kept himself closed off in the first place.”

  “You think he’s dumping you because this was what? Too scary for him?” she asks with an incredulous expression on her face.

  “He hasn’t actually dumped me,” I say with a trace of bitterness in my voice. “But it’s coming. I know it. Even when he came to the hospital to see me yesterday, I felt him pull away. I could see the disconnect in his eyes.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” she mutters.

  “It does if you understand he cares too much for me. Yesterday was a stark reminder of the frailty of life, and he doesn’t want that pain again.”

  Jorie grimaces. “You sound so understanding and accepting. I’m pissed at him.”

  “You don’t love him,” I point out. “I do understand.”

  “But it hurts, right?” she asks tentatively.

  “Hurts like fuck,” I admit.

  “What are you going to do?” she asks, knowing me well enough to know I’ll never sit back and wonder about these things.

  “Can you drive me to Vegas?”

  She blinks in surprise. “Right now?”

  “Now,” I affirm with a solid nod of my head, which hurts like hell. I push up on the couch, dislodging Jorie from my side. She stands, then holds a hand out to me, so I latch on. She hauls me up, and I grimace from the lance of pain through my head.

  I can see she wants to push me back down to make me rest, but she also knows I won’t rest until I figure out what Benjamin’s thinking and whether we are, in fact, over.

  If he can’t handle this, then I’ll gracefully back away. I don’t want to cause him more pain. He’s been through his lifetime’s share already. I also don’t want things to drag out between us. I don’t want drama.

  One of the reasons Benjamin and I have meshed so well is because we are both transparent with our wants and needs.

  I need him to tell me the truth. If he’s even half the man I think he is, I know he’ll give it to me straight.

  CHAPTER 29

  Benjamin

  The on-call room is blessedly empty, and I sit on one of the couches to take a moment to try to decompress. I haven’t had a surgery yet, but I’d been called in on a few consults I’m continuing to monitor. A ruptured blood vessel in the brain, which we’re attempting to treat with medication at this point. It might require a ventriculostomy if the swelling doesn’t decrease. The other was a spinal injury from a fall off a ladder, which caused a ruptured disc that’s compressing on the spinal column. Again, treating conservatively for now, but it could turn into a surgery at any time.

  No high-pressure situations yet, so that’s why I need to decompress.

  That all has to do with Elena because outside the blissful moments where I must concentrate on my patients or their test results, my mind has been occupied with her. I’m incredibly worried about her still. While I know she’s physically fine, I’m more worried about the mental toll she’s suffering. I know what it’s like to confront death. It can fuck with people’s head.

  I really should give her a call and check in.

  I don’t, though, because I don’t know what to say. Every fiber in my being is still saying I should pull away. Get out while I’m still able to do so with only a slightly broken heart versus a crushed one later down the line. If I’m going to break things off with her, that needs to be done face to face and not over the phone.

  And yet, by not calling her or even texting to ask how she’s doing today, I’m sending a clear message she’s not important to me.

  Which is about as far from the truth as possible.

  She’s too fucking important is the problem, and I should have known this was coming. When I’d broken things off with her before Father’s Day because I’d realized she made me vulnerable, I should have left her far behind and moved on.

  I snag my phone out of my lab coat, then check to see if she’s sent any messages.

  I’m both relieved and sad there aren’t any, because I wouldn’t have minded her alleviating my worry with a quick update.

  Regardless, I do need to check on one thing, so I dial my mother. I roll my eyes at the way she answers. “Hi, Benji. How’s your day going?”

  Benji was what she called me when I was little, and that’s never stopped. She doesn’t call me that all the time, but usually when she’s feeling overly affectionate. She’s been saying it a lot lately since we reconnected, and I give it to her. It’s the least I can do after the hurt I’ve caused her the past year.

  “Just checking in… making sure everything is good for tomorrow,” I say. She’s flying in for a short visit. I’m really looking forward to it, now more than ever.

  “I’m already packed. Assuming nothing happens with a flight delay, I will see you tomorrow morning.”

  “Awesome,” I say. “I’ve got the day off, so we’ll go do something fun.”

  “Can Elena come?” she asks, because of course I told my mom all about her. Stupid me thought it was an appropriate time to divulge, share something important with my mom so she knows I’m ready for all the ways we used to be close.

  “Um… I’m actually not sure that’s going to happen,” I say lamely.

  “Why?” she exclaims, sounding incredibly disappointed.

  I tell her what happened to Elena yesterday. And then I explain how I feel about it. “It scared the shit out of me, Mom. And it made me think… I’m just not ready for this. Ready to put myself out there like that with someone again. I mean, maybe in the future, but right now… I just don’t think I can handle it.”

  She’s silent a moment before finally saying, “You can handle only what you can handle, Benjamin. Either way, I’ve got your back. I’ll pray God gives you the strength to work through it.”

  “Really, Mom?” I ask angrily. “You’re going to bring him into it?”

  “You may not have a relationship with Him, but I do, so yes… I’ll pray.”

  Why the fuck does everyone love this guy so much? “God doesn’t have shit to do with my life.”

  “Of course He does,” she replies firmly, not to dismiss my beliefs—or rather the lack thereof—but to solidly remind me that her faith is strong.

  “Then why in the hell didn’t he stop April and Cas
sidy from dying?”

  “It’s not His job to prevent bad things, Benjamin,” she says quietly. “But rather to give you the strength to get through it.”

  “But he didn’t,” I mutter.

  “I believe He did,” she replies gently.

  “Elena believes in God,” I say. Why I say that, I don’t know. “She told me yesterday God must have been looking out for her. That it was why she made it out alive. And if that’s the case, then why was he looking out for Elena, but not April and Cassidy?”

  “Benji… honey,” my mom drawls soothingly. “We’ll never know for sure. Maybe God wasn’t looking out for Elena, but rather the gunman.”

  “What?” I rasp, my throat tightening with surprise at her suggestion.

  “Maybe God had another purpose for that man or didn’t want him to have the weight of killing someone. Maybe God brought April and Cassidy home where they were meant to be because maybe you’re meant to be with Elena. We just never know. We can’t know. All we can do is have faith He ultimately wants what’s best for us, and he will give us nothing more than what we can handle.”

  I’m so tired of this circular argument with people. I know Elena would love to be involved in this right now, as her beliefs align very closely with my mom’s. But none of her words make me feel better. They don’t bring clarity.

  They only confuse and exhaust me.

  “Look… I’ve got to get going,” I say. “But I’ll be at the airport to get you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay, honey. I love you.”

  “Love you too,” I murmur before disconnecting the phone.

  I push up from the couch, then walk over to one of the vending machines. Nothing looks good. I move back to the couch.

  Before I can sit down, my phone chimes with a text from Elena. I look down at it. I’m here in the lobby. I know you’re on call, but I’d love if you can spare me a few minutes. I’ll wait for however long I need to.

  Shit… she’s here. I’m both elated and terrified. While I had every intention of us talking—breaking up, maybe—I hadn’t expected it to be today. But that’s my Elena… forcing a showdown because she’s not one to sit back and wait to see how life works out.

  On my way, I text back, then snag my cane from near the doorway.

  It takes me several minutes to make my way to her, mainly due to overcrowded elevators.

  She doesn’t see me coming, and it affords me the ability to look her over critically. I see the bruising and stitches. I’d expected them, so it wasn’t a shocker.

  What I hate seeing is the misery on her face. She knows.

  She knows I’m a bastard and ready to bolt. Without her saying a word, I can read every beautiful nuance on her. It’s obvious she’s going to let me do it, too.

  I’m within half-a-dozen paces from her when she sees me and our eyes lock. She doesn’t move toward me, and I come to a stop a few feet from her. “How are you feeling? Headaches? Any dizziness? Double vision?”

  Annoyance flashes in her eyes, and she pointedly ignores my questions. “I need to know if we’re over.”

  A rush of air pushes out of my lungs as I glance around the immediate vicinity for somewhere private to talk. Too many damn people.

  I take Elena’s hand in mine, then lead her out the lobby doors and around the side of the hospital where there’s an outdoor courtyard. There are a few people here, but I find a quiet bench under a tree.

  We sit, angling in toward each other, her knees brushing against mine. I reach out, then brush a lock of hair back from her forehead on the opposite side of her wound. She watches me carefully as if reading something into my action. I just wanted to be able to see her entire face.

  “I wasn’t completely honest with you in the past,” I begin, and she blinks in surprise. “About when I stood you up for our date at The Wicked Horse just before Father’s Day.”

  “You were feeling overwhelmed,” she says, but I shake my head.

  “It was far beyond overwhelmed, Elena.” I reach out, take her hand. “You completely stripped away all of my defenses. Laid me bare and think back to then… that’s before we really started opening up about our feelings. That early on, you scared the shit out of me because you made me vulnerable again.”

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, looking away for a moment before coming back to me. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

  “Don’t apologize,” I chide. “I’m telling you only so you’ll know how powerfully you affected me, even back then. You opened me up in ways I didn’t think possible, nor did I think I was ready for it. So I panicked and totally ghosted you.”

  “That’s all well and good,” she replies, stroking a thumb over the back of my hand. “That gives me better insight, but you let me back in, even knowing the risk.”

  “I did, because you also made me start forgetting the pain,” I admit, and I can see realization set in. “Here I am, falling for this beautiful, smart, and vivacious woman, and my life was starting to get really good again. Until—”

  “Until I just reminded you how fragile it all is,” she says softly, and I can tell this also isn’t news. She’d already figured this all out because her tone is defeated and accepting all at once. “You don’t want to risk that type of loss again.”

  “I don’t know, Elena,” I say truthfully. “Every instinct says run, but I don’t know if I can let you go. Regardless, all of it is a testament to how much I’ve come to care for you. I wish I didn’t. It would make things so much easier if I could just go back to loving to fuck you rather than just lo—”

  I stop before I admit the “L” word out loud.

  “I feel like I should say something to sway you my way,” she says. “Get mad. Goad you or something. But I can’t force you to make me important enough to risk the pain, and that’s really what it boils down to.”

  I take her other hand, hold both tightly. “You’re important, Elena. So fucking important. Too important. And I’m not trying to compare you to April because you’re both so different and wonderful in your own rights. I mean, neither of you could ever measure up to the other because you’re both so unique, yet… I find myself comparing the pain I felt to the potential pain I could bear with you, and Elena… I think if I lost you, it would destroy me.”

  She shakes her head, a sad smile on her face. “No, you would be fine eventually. You would survive and move on, and I know that because I believe in you.”

  And then she stands, pulling her hands from mine. “Goodbye, Benjamin.”

  I’m stunned, and I scramble to stand as well, grabbing my cane and punching it onto the brick walkway. “That’s it? You’re leaving? You’re not even going to try to tell me I’m wrong?”

  She tilts her head, giving me an admonishing smile. “I just did. Told you that you’re wrong. You’d survive because you’re strong. I personally think you have the fortitude to move past these fears, and I’m hoping you’ll prove me right. You know where to find me if that’s the case.”

  She then moves past me, her arm brushing against my chest. My hand snakes out, fingers intertwining with hers for just a moment. Neither of us looks at one another, but we linger in that touch until she pulls her hand free and walks away from me.

  CHAPTER 30

  Elena

  I don’t agree with some of the Catholic church’s doctrines, but I don’t think that matters. I think it’s good to question and make decisions for myself. Even though I don’t see eye to eye with my church on all things, I find immense comfort within these brick walls.

  The smell of incense, the stained-glass windows representing the Stations of the Cross, the ceremony of Communion. All of it gives me comfort, starting my week off right.

  My entire family attends each week, although one of us might skip for a good reason here and there—and yes, I realize spending the day in bed with a man is not a good enough reason. After church, we’ll often go out to an early lunch together, a favorite being Olive Garden.

 
Today, everyone is in attendance, which in addition to my parents includes five brothers, three sisters-in-law, two nephews, and four nieces, although the newest little niece, Emily, is in the cry room with her mom this morning. We take up two pews, the Costieri family, but such is the Catholic way of life. It feels good to be out and about, especially after I hugged my parents’ couch most of yesterday.

  I had been slightly annoyed at the way my mom had hovered over me all morning, but by the time Jorie had brought me back from my breakup with Benjamin, all I’d wanted was my mom to baby me.

  I mean… I think we broke up. I try to replay our last words, and I’m not sure. We’d left it sort of vague. Benjamin said he feared the pain of losing me, I’d said he was stronger than he gave himself credit for, and then… I walked away. That part felt right for sure. I’d said all I could.

  Communion has just concluded, the last few rows of parishioners filing back into place. Our priest is making some announcements, and I’ve tuned out. I slip my phone out of my purse, which was put on vibrate the minute I walked in after an incredibly embarrassing moment about two years ago when “Hell’s Bells” rang out loudly one time when my boyfriend called me.

  I shoot off a quick text to Jorie. Let’s go shopping for baby clothes today.

  Ever at the ready to have my back. Sure you wouldn’t rather go to a bar and just get drunk?

  You’re pregnant. You can’t drink.

  But I can listen, she wrote back. And be your DD.

  My mother leans over to hiss in my ear. “You put that phone away right now, young lady. We are in God’s house.”

  Smirking, I duck my head and shoot Jorie a quick text. Call you in a few minutes once I get out of church.

  Tilting my head up, I find my mom glaring at me, but she can’t hide the tiny quirk to her lips because part of her likes I’m still a brat. Her eyes move to my stitches and soften, mouth turning into a frown. She knows not only my head was broken, but also my heart was as well. She gives me a pat on my leg before returning her attention up to the altar. The ending processional has started, and the congregation stands.