Quinn’s words came back to me. I was going to do exactly as he predicted and that pissed me off.
I wanted to hit the morphine, but let myself feel instead. I felt the awe that Becca had shot my father. Watching her stand between my father’s anger and me was miraculous. Mentally, I ran through the whole scene again. She shot him in the throat, and then the shoulder, and then slapped him across the face in the last bit of poetic justice. He died having been struck by a woman in anger. Nothing was more fitting.
Becca. She was struggling downstairs. I felt the desire to toss off my IV and get my ass down to her. Animal stood. “You’ve got to stay here. For now.”
The nurse walked in with a tray of food. Chicken broth never smelled so good in my life. And Jell-O was about to send me into a tizzy.
Animal helped by pulling over the wheeled table so I could eat.
“I got to go do some stuff, sweetness. You’re looking good. I feel like we can leave it here now.” He thanked the nurse and helped me take the lids off of everything.
I started with the broth after the nurse left.
Animal leaned down low, close to my ear. “I’ve got a blade stashed right here. You keep your hand near it if you pass out.”
I nodded once. That was a good idea. No one else was trustworthy. Animal and I touched fists. I wouldn’t hit the morphine again. I needed my wits about me. After inhaling all the “food” on my plate, I hit the nurse button. I needed to take a piss and I wanted to do it on my own. I shivered thinking about what it entailed.
She returned and agreed that I could try. She put some latex gloves on and I braced myself. I needed to get to Becca and this was step one.
37
HIM
Becca
I have a headache. That was my first thought. Whatever I was drinking last night, I needed to lay off of it in a hurry. Everything felt different. The sounds, the way I was lying. One thought opened my eyes.
Nix.
It took a second, but I registered the lights, the IV drip bag. The windows. My mother sitting in chair in the corner. Henry lying on the cot by the foot of my bed
My best friend and I made eye contact. She smiled, and then alarm covered her face. “She’s up!”
I blinked at her loud words.
“She’s up!”
“Call the doctor. Get the nurse!” I tried to put my hands on my ears, but I met resistance on both of them. I tried shushing Henry.
It was useless. My mother was involved now. The two of them were like a pair of firecrackers in a porta-potty. Loud and louder.
A nurse walked in and asked them to quiet down. They snuggled each other. I rolled my eyes at them and they started in again.
“Did you see that? She’s going to be fine. She’s already a wise ass,” Henry proclaimed and my mother nodded with tears in her eyes.
The nurse asked me a few basic weird yes or no questions. She seemed pleased that I got them all correct. She took my vitals, and I could do nothing but let her. Another person entered, and it was clear from her white coat she was a doctor.
She dimmed the lights and put her finger in front of her lips. “She might have a headache. A pretty good one.”
Henry and my mother apologized and did their best to be good visitors. Henry pulled out her phone and started texting. I figured it was to Dick, who wasn’t here.
Someone had to take care of the animals. I think I killed a man.
It happened that quickly—how I remembered. Dread shot through me. I widened my eyes at Henry.
“He’s okay. He made it. He’s okay. Nix is fine.”
I felt my chin crumple with relief. He was okay. Sweet Jesus, the whole night rolled back into my consciousness. The beating I took, shooting the gun. Nix in the ambulance. Quinn in the ambulance.
I watched my mother look from Henry to me and back again. “Which he?” Her mother instincts had kicked in. And more importantly, her matchmaking instincts.
“The man she saved. She was worried about him.” Henry tried to play it down, but I knew Mother Monster would never let it go until she got to the bottom of it all.
The doctor took off my oxygen mask and asked me to try to speak. I could do it, but it was raspy.
“Excellent. Cognitively this is fabulous. We’ve got a lot of healing still to do. I’m encouraged by everything I see here, though. Now we just have to put the time in.” The doctor pointed at my face. “I want you to rest your voice, and that’ll be hard because these two are chatterboxes. We’ll get you a pad of paper and a pen, then you can ask any questions you want.” The doctor patted me on the top of my head after returning the mask. Normally, it would seem patronizing, but this time it seemed like gratefulness.
My mother and Henry came on either side and embraced me gently. Mom put a kiss on my cheek. “Thank Lord Almighty you’re okay. I thought I was going to die from worrying.”
She smoothed the hair away from my forehead.
I remembered the cancer then and started to tear up. We had so much ahead of us. I hated that I’d worried her.
Henry, my mom, and I hung onto each other.
~Nix~
I could see them hugging her from my vantage point. Standing up had made me dizzy, but I managed. I had the burner phone with me and Animal had reluctantly given me Becca’s room number.
But now, now I could see her. She was moving, and crying with what had to be her mom and Henry. Her mom looked like Becca, just a more severe version. I leaned against the wall. My hospital gown and IV pole were great tickets around the building. No one expected a guy with his butt on display to make tracks. My ink was making me obvious, but I still managed to get this far.
What I planned to do now, I wasn’t sure. Henry looked up from the hug and saw me. She excused herself and met me in the hallway. “You doing okay?”
I spoke to Henry but watched Becca. Henry’s departure revealed more of the marks my father had left on her.
“She’s just really come out of it. She can’t talk great, but she did answer a lot of questions. That was the big concern—if her brain was deprived of oxygen too long. There were secondary injuries that flared up once she was in the ambulance.” Henry hugged her arms and looked over her shoulder. “But she’s back. I can tell.”
I was here outside her room and I had no idea what to do. Should I go in and introduce myself to her mom? Was that something Becca wanted? She’d wanted me gone. I’d scared her. And now that she knew who my father was and what he was capable of, could she ever…
She saw me. And even with two black eyes she was beautiful. Her neck was mottled; her cheek was swollen. She’d taken a hell of a beating. I knew it well. I remembered it from when it was done to me by the same hands.
I looked at her while Henry’s voice faded out for me. This was it. The decision for Becca. She ignored me and turned back to her mother.
A cannonball of rejection punched through me. I turned from the sight in front of me. Oh God, she was really done with me. She’d saved my life, killed my father, and she was ready to move on.
I took one last look. Her mother was staring at Henry and me, and I watched as she inspected what she saw. Things were broken for me.
Disgust flicked over her face. Becca wasn’t looking anymore. Henry was quiet. She must have seen the whole thing go down.
“Um, Nix. Maybe let me text Animal when she’s ready. I know you mean a lot to her.” Henry touched my hand and I pulled it away. I deserved no charity.
I gathered the back of my gown and turned. It was better for her this way. Let me get to the bottom of things. Figure out how to keep her safe. Though my father had been the worst of the danger, Feybi still existed. And I hadn’t ruled out his participation in my father’s attack.
I collapsed when I made it back to my room. My physical therapist was there, surprised I had been on a walk.
“You like overdoing it, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
The man got a load of my ink. “I th
ink I can guess.”
~Becca~
Henry came back into the room.
Who were you with?
I wrote on the envelope with the pencil my mom had had in her purse. The nurse hadn’t provided us with the paper and pen yet. The blob hadn’t looked like Dick.
Henry covered her surprise and then changed the topic. They were both encouraging me to nap, which I thought was funny because I’d just woken up. I was hazy on the timeline, how long I had been in the hospital. My original injuries had manufactured some serious secondary ones. I understood that much. My chest ached. My throat and neck felt like they had deep sunburns. The inside of my mouth had a few bumps, and my mom updated me that I had to get a few stitches in my cheek.
I’d killed that man with a gun. I’d even slapped him as he struggled with his last breaths. I couldn’t find any remorse in me. The scene played out over and over, but when it had run through its inevitable conclusion, there was no sadness for the life I’d taken. Maybe that would come later.
My mother told me she had to go ask a few questions of the nursing staff, and Henry and I were finally alone.
“So, you and Nix are done?”
I slipped my mask off instead of writing. “No. Yes. No.”
“Sounds definitive,” Henry observed. “I mean, when I was out there with him, I was surprised you didn’t acknowledge him.”
“That was him?” I was more mouthing than speaking, but she understood.
“You couldn’t tell? He’s pretty distinctive.” Henry pointed at her face and then wiggled her fingers.
“It was blurry. I knew it was you because I watched you leave.” I put my mask back on.
“That’s a symptom we have to share with the doctor. Blurry vision could be related to your injuries.”
I moved the mask. “But he’s okay?”
“He’s walking. But okay is kind of a harsh word. He thought you’d rejected him. I could tell.” Henry arranged my blanket to cover my tits before patting them gently.
I wanted to see him. I wanted to talk to him. Things were different now. I was putting it together. His father might have been coming for me all this time. Maybe the app was more of a way to make sure I was okay as opposed to just watching me creeper-style. Seeing Nix collapse after the bullet was horrifying. He’d seemed so solid. I could hear my heart rate pick up on the monitor. His distress had made decisions for me. I’d picked up a gun and killed a man.
I was still not sorry.
38
THANK YOU
Fenix
My physical therapist was pleased with my range of motion and grip. He commented on the fact that the ink on my shoulder was destroyed. Eventually, he showed me a few of his own tats and I shared Lauren’s contact information. Someday she would cover the last scar my father left on my body.
After he made his notes and packed up, I looked at the burner. Animal had texted. He seemed confused by the message he’d received from Henry, but I wasn’t.
She’s got blurry vision right now.
I was beyond tired, but that message gave me energy. I stood. I could go down there one more time. Just let someone try to stop me. I gathered my gown behind me again.
Becca hadn’t seen me. There was still hope. I took one step toward the door and stopped.
Becca’s mom. She was here.
I sat back down.
She had the same blue eyes as Becca, just sharper. Everything about her had angles.
“I saw you downstairs with Henry. I’m betting you’re Nix, I’m Julieanne Stiles, Rebecca’s mother.”
I nodded once.
“I may be off-base, but I don’t think I am. You’re the reason my child is in the hospital?” She walked closer to me. Her top was rumpled and her skirt had creases in it.
I nodded again. Everything she’d endured was because of me. That was the truth.
“At least you’re honest.” She motioned to the bed, asking without words if she could sit.
I smoothed out the blankets and she sunk down next to me. “I heard the cops talking. I asked a lot of questions. They brought up a local mob? I don’t think they knew I was paying attention—but when it comes to your kid… Do you have a kid?” She turned to look at me.
I shook my head. I didn’t. Probably never would.
“Well, when your kid’s involved, you listen to everything. You absorb everything. Back when my Becca was in elementary school, she wasn’t focusing at school. Do you know what I did? I took vacation time from work and I volunteered every day until I saw what was going on. She was struggling to finish written assignments. Her third grade teacher and I diagnosed her with dysgraphia. It’s like dyslexia but for hands.” Becca’s mother shifted on the bed, settling back like she intended to be here a while. “That was a struggle. Getting the Individualized Education Program, making sure she had all the accommodations she needed. Working with the teachers through the years, most great—some were shitheads. But she got a degree. My baby girl. She got a college degree and I’ve never been prouder…” She paused. “Until the day she shot a man dead to protect herself. I only wish I was the one to have done it for her. I’m an old lady now. I mean—waiting on my cancer staging? She’s beautiful and has the whole rest of her life.”
I felt my nostrils burn as Becca’s mom choked back a little sob. “But it’s going to be fine. I’ll find a way to keep her happy. I always have. I always will. I’ll keep her out of jail for killing a man to protect her life.”
She looked at my face and I felt flayed open for her judgment. “And I’m gathering saving your life too.”
I put my hands on my lap.
“I’m glad she did that.” Julieanne put her hand on my bicep. “I don’t know what happened to you that made all this…” she gestured to the bone tats on my skin, “…make sense to you, but I’m hoping that if my girl has feelings for you, that you’ll understand what I’m asking. You’ll hear me.”
I bit my lip. I knew where this was headed.
“Do you love your mother? Is she a good woman?”
Becca’s mom went deep fast.
I finally spoke to her, “She was a good person.”
“She’s passed?”
I bowed my head.
“Then I’m betting her love was extraordinary. Look what you’ve done to compensate for her attention.” Julieanne shrewdly diagnosed me. Harsh, but likely correct. “If you pursue my daughter, she’ll accept your affection—no matter where that takes her. Even if it has her holding a gun again. Even if she has to take beatings for you.” She stopped and gasped a sob.
I stood, grabbing my gown and IV pole as I did. I went into the bathroom, took the toilet paper off the holder and brought it to her. She thanked me and unwound it before dabbing at her eyes and nose. I sat back down next to her and parked my IV. I owed her my time. Her daughter was beautiful with two black eyes and that was information no woman should ever know.
Julieanne composed herself and started again. “She’ll accept you into her heart. I’ve been pressing her for years to date men I pick out for her. She thinks it’s because I’m vain and have just a superficial view of love—but I know my girl. I know her better than she knows herself.”
“When she was little, and we’d go shopping? She’d get to pick out a stuffed animal ’cause she loved stuffed animals. Becca would sift through the piles of identical toys to find the one with a flaw. The one that would be the least likely to get a home. Missing a limb. Had a wonky face. She’d pick those ones every damn time. It was exasperating.” She took another wind of paper. “And you? Well, you have my Becca’s name written all over you.”
If she only knew.
“You’re the least likely to get the things you deserve. And I’m not doubting you deserve all the good things, but my daughter? She’ll face anything for the people she loves. Tell me you live a peaceful life. Tell me that you can provide for Becca and make her happy. That she’ll have everything she deserves—not you. Can men do that? Can y
ou set yourselves apart enough from a situation to be completely selfless? It takes a tremendous amount of courage.”
Julieanne stood. “I have cancer. I’m not trying to use that to sway you what to do—or you know what? I am. I am using it and I’m not even ashamed. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Rebecca. There’s a cop that’s been hanging around her. He’s interested in Becca. I want you to look at this situation. Who do you think she should be with? Who do you think offers stability? Safety? A life with some kids, a retirement plan, and anniversaries dancing to their favorite songs? Is that you?”
Julieanne’s left hand was shaking. This conversation was pivotal for her. I did as she asked. I pictured Becca with me. And although it burned, I thought of her with Quinn.
Two futures. One was easy to predict, as far as futures go. But her life with me? God, what would we do? I couldn’t keep up my current way of life. Suddenly, I was nauseous. I’d killed how many men with these hands that I’d touched Becca with? It seemed vile now.
It hurt. God, it hurt. I would take a million more slugs to the chest to not realize that this woman was right. If I wanted what was best for Becca, I’d walk away. Away from her life. My surveillance of my girls was a farce. My attention put them in danger instead of shielding them.
I put my hand where I knew her name was. The name nearest the gunshot wound. The dandelion puff tattoo was still tender.
“I understand what you’re saying.” I couldn’t say any more because I didn’t want to cry in front of her. “I’ll leave.”
I watched as her shoes came closer to my toes. Then her hand was on my cheek. “Your mother would be so proud of you.”
I couldn’t look her in the eyes. The dagger was pushed in too deep.
“I’ll leave tonight. She’ll never see me again.” I dug my fingers into the thin mattress.
Julieanne dropped her hand and turned.
“Thank you. From the bottom of my heart,” she whispered before I heard her heels clack down the hallway.
Mercy Page 29
