Afraid to Fly (Fearless #2)

by S. L. Jennings

  “A paper bag. You shouldn’t have.”

  “Just open it.”

  As she pulled the item from the bag, a dimple set between her brows. “A coffee cup?”

  “Read it. Kitschy mugs are kinda my thing.”

  When her eyes caught the sketch of the little camera with the words I Shoot People over it, she burst into a fit of laughter. “Sounds about right. I did shoot you, after all. And you liked it.”

  “I did. Shoot me anytime.” Then I kissed her so deeply and held her so close to me that her feet were three inches clear off the ground.

  I was so wrapped up in the feel of her . . . the taste of her . . . that I didn’t even realize the entire room had gone silent. Slowly, I set her down and turned to face my friends who all wore varied shades of shock and amusement. They’d seen me with women—lots of them—but never like this. And I was never with anyone. We were either fucking or we weren’t. But Raven . . . even with her clothes on, I wanted to be around her. Her and Toby. I wanted them both in my life. And not just for a day or a week. I wanted them because they were like me—they had been forgotten. And only someone who was equally as lost knew what it meant to be found.

  “Wow,” Kami gasped.

  “I know, right?” Angel whispered back.

  “Dude, you are so whipped!” CJ chortled, slapping his hand on the bar. “I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. I know how it is!”

  I shook my head and laughed right along with him, because, hell, he was right. The beautiful woman in my arms had me so whipped, you could put me on a sundae.

  “So sorry to break up the pow-wow, gang, but I thought we should catch up.”

  I swear it was like a record scratched and flew right off the turntable. We dropped the happy smiles and laughs and turned toward the sound of the saccharine-laced southern drawl. Amanda stood before us, hand on her boney-ass hip and her boobs mashed together like two rotten grapefruits. None of us had seen her since Angel dropped the proposal bomb two weeks ago, so we assumed she had crawled back under whatever rock she had been hiding under. Yet, here she was, dressed to the nines in Trailer Skank Couture, smiling like she just hit the lotto.

  “What are you doing here?” Blaine asked, his voice devoid of its usual friendly tone.

  “Oh, just was in the neighborhood. Don’t worry; I won’t keep you long. But I came across some interesting news, and I thought, what kinda friend would I be if I didn’t share it?”

  “You’re not a friend, bitch,” Angel muttered.

  “Well, after you hear this, you might think differently. Such a shame . . . you think you know somebody, only to find out that they’re harboring an ugly secret. Apparently, one of you isn’t a friend either.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, get to the point!” CJ huffed out. None of us even admonished him for the F-bomb slip. We were all sick of this episode of Lifestyles of the Poor and Desperate.

  “Gladly.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a beige file folder, making a show out of flipping it open. “Since someone had such an interest in people’s personal info, I thought I’d do a little fact checking. And, boy, did I hit the jackpot! One of you has some explaining to do.”

  I felt Raven tense in my arms, her whole body growing hot. She looked pale, her eyes wide with horror. What was going on? What could she possibly fear from Amanda? And what the hell could Amanda have on any of . . .

  “Dominic Luis Trevino, born May 26, 1990, orphaned when he was barely four years old. He was taken in by his uncle, Hector Trevino, who was convicted of sexually assaulting Dominic until he was the age of twelve. Hector, who is up for parole later this year, argued the defense that Dominic wanted it. That he loved it. That he even ejaculated when they had sex. After Dominic was taken from his uncle, he was placed in a group home, where he began a sexual relationship with another male resident there, which lasted until he moved here from Florida. After that, Dominic posed as a straight male, sleeping with close to a thousand women, when he’s really nothing but a fake and a fag.”

  No one spoke, no one moved, no one even breathed. The least of all me. How . . . How had she found out? Those records were sealed! Where did she get—

  “Funny what you can find out when you fuck a lawyer or two. And just in case you all don’t believe me, read it for yourselves.” She pulled several photocopied sheets from the folder and tossed them at our stock-still bodies, causing paper tears to rain down on us.

  When her gaze went to Toby, I knew where this was going. I knew what she would say, yet I was too stunned to stop her. “Kinda scary that a liar and a fraud like him is working around children, especially young boys. Wonder if your employer knows it. Oops! I bet they will now.”

  Then she stepped in close, pinning her vicious gaze on Raven. This was the kill shot. This would be the one to end us . . . to end me. “Statistically, most pedophiles were molested as children. Be a shame if that happened in this case. Careful.”

  I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. But I knew I had to go. I had to get far, far away from this. I was covered in the bloody filth of my past, and now they all saw it. They all knew what had happened to me. They knew what I was. I could feel their eyes on me, could hear the whispers around the room. I knew what they were saying.

  Faggot. Queer. Freak. Sissy. Pedophile. Rapist.

  They were talking about me. They could see me.

  Through the numbing cold in my veins, my legs carried me toward the door. I was running. I was bursting through the exit. I was speeding away, and never coming back.

  The ugly had found me. My eyes had found beauty, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t strong enough to hold on to it. I wasn’t worthy enough to keep it.

  What was wrong cannot be made right.

  What was broken cannot be fixed.

  What was dirty cannot be erased.

  I KNEW I SHOULD have said something—done something. But I couldn’t. Or I just . . . didn’t. My first thought was that it couldn’t be true. But then he ran. He left us and he ran. And that was all the confirmation I needed. Dom was molested. And Dom . . . No. I couldn’t believe he was gay. Could I? Could the women be a front for a secret life?

  There was a shrill scream and a scuffle, breaking me from my reverie. Angel was trying to lunge for Amanda, but CJ had her by the waist. So no one thought a thing when Kami slowly rose from her seat and walked towards her, her round belly leading the way. That’s why it came as a shock to us all when Kami reeled back with all the power in her little body and punched that sadistic bitch in the face, sending her sprawling backwards onto the floor, her nose gushing blood.

  “If I ever see you around my family again,” Kami gritted out, leaning over so Amanda could hear her loud and clear. Blaine flashed to her side and gently tried to pull her away, but the tiny warrior wasn’t having it. “I will kill you. Do you hear me? I will fucking kill you.”

  Amanda scrambled back, holding her face, until she was out of reach. Then she jumped to her feet and ran for her life. Kami was serious. And she knew it.

  “She’s getting away!” Angel cried. “How dare she! I will end her!”

  The entire bar had witnessed the whole thing, and now everyone was whispering. Some had even pulled out their smartphones and were recording it.

  While CJ was trying to calm Angel down, Blaine was comforting Kami, who was still fuming as well. I started to go to Toby, fearful of what I would find. He was just a kid and all this was much too heavy for all of us. This would shatter his world. And it was still on the mend from the last time it had been broken.

  “Raven?” I turned to see a still-shaken Kami and an equally worried Blaine. He had his arm around her waist, but it seemed like he was holding her up on shaky legs. She looked to him then looked back to me, wearing a pained grimace. “I think my water broke.”

  Those five words zapped me back into reality, and I sprang into action, letting my instinct and training guide me. I looked down and sure enough, there was fluid running down her leg
, along with a good amount of blood. Shit.

  “Let’s get her down. Blaine, call her obstetrician. Kami, are you having any pain?”

  Cringing, she nodded, as CJ slid a chair under her. “Yeah. Cramping. I thought it was gas all day, so I didn’t say anything.”

  I gently pressed against her belly to check the baby’s position. “What about now? Any pressure?”

  “Yeah, um.” She leaned in as close as she could. “In my butt. It feels like I have to poop.”

  I looked up at Blaine’s wide, worried gaze. “We have to get her to the hospital right now.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Carry her to the car. I’ll stay in the back with her to make sure she’s okay. Angel, if you can, grab me some clean towels and some gloves from the kitchen.”

  He reiterated everything I said to the doctor on the phone, telling her we’d be there in ten minutes. I was just praying that this baby would hold on until then. I had studied this stuff, and observed, but I had never actually delivered a baby.

  “Here, take my car. It’s faster,” CJ insisted, who oddly enough seemed just as somber. “I’ll ride over with Angel and the little guy.”

  Shit. Toby.

  I only had a second to turn to him to ask him if he was okay. He shook his head furiously, gesturing me to go.

  “Okay, Blaine. Can you get her to the car?”

  Before I even got the question out, he gingerly lifted Kami into his arms like she weighed next to nothing. CJ jogged to the door and held it open for us. Then he did the same with the backseat of his car.

  “Here are the towels and gloves!” Angel exclaimed, running to catch us. She kissed Kami on the face and promised to be right behind us.

  I thanked her and climbed into the back with Kami. “Ok, Blaine, keep the doctor on the line and put her on speakerphone.”

  He did as I ordered, and within seconds, we were peeling out of the parking lot.

  “Doctor, I’m Raven West, and I’m a CNA. I have your patient here who has been having mild contractions throughout the day, and has experienced PPROM at 34 weeks gestation less than five minutes ago. No meconium present that I could see, however there is some blood.”

  The doctor asked us both questions. How far apart are the contractions? About five minutes apart. On a scale from 1–10, how bad do they hurt? A 7. Maybe an 8. Any loss of mucous? Not that we could see.

  “Ok, Raven, I’m going to need you to check her. Can you do that?”

  I was already spreading out the towels and pulling the latex gloves on my hands. “I can.”

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a beat. I could do this. I had to. When I reopened them, Kami was smiling at me, her lips tight as she tensed with the next contraction. “I trust you, Raven. You’ve got this. Don’t be afraid.”

  I nodded, accepting her words of encouragement. She was right; I had this. Kami and Blaine had been good to me . . . had been good to Toby. I wouldn’t let them down.

  “Just breathe, Kami,” I said softly as I measured her cervix. “Take deep breaths.”

  “You’re doing great, baby,” Blaine said from the driver’s seat. “Almost there.”

  “Doctor, we’re looking at five centimeters dilated,” I called out. “And about 20% effaced.”

  “Ok, I’ve got my team waiting at the emergency entrance, prepped and ready to go. What’s your ETA?”

  “Less than two minutes,” Blaine answered.

  “Ok, good. We’ll be waiting.”

  The second we pulled up to the hospital, we were cast into a whirlwind of commotion. Kami was wheeled to L & D, with Blaine right beside her. I offered to park the car and meet him in there, giving me a chance to reevaluate the last twenty minutes. Everything happened so fast. If Kami hadn’t gone into labor, I could’ve gone after Dom. But would I? None of what happened to him was his fault, but I couldn’t deny that it left me with a lot of uncomfortable questions.

  Who was Dominic Trevino?

  Many years ago, I thought I knew, only to find out that I was wrong. And now, it was happening again. Having a tainted past wasn’t a deal breaker, but being gay and not telling me? Yeah. It was. And was he, in fact, at risk of becoming like his uncle? Was he already having urges?

  God, what had I gotten us into?

  “Oh, thank God!” Angel exclaimed when she saw me walking from the parking lot. Toby and CJ stood beside her, just as anxious. “How is she?”

  “She’s good. In good spirits. Shouldn’t be long now.” I turned to Angel, hoping she would detect the message in my words without alerting Toby. “Have you spoken to him?”

  She shook her head. “He’s not answering. I don’t know what to do. He’s hurting right now, but asking him for answers may not be wise right now.”

  “So . . . you knew? About him?”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “At least about the parts that were actually true. Just wait until you speak with him before you judge him, okay?”

  She was right. I couldn’t make any snap judgments. Not until I spoke with him. What had happened to him was not his fault. He needed compassion and understanding right now. Not accusations.

  I pulled out my phone and sent him a text, telling him where we were and what had happened. I hoped he knew how much he was wanted—needed—by the people who loved him, myself included. He would hate himself if he missed this, probably more than he already was right now.

  Being a CNA had its perks, so I was able to get us back into the delivery ward. CJ stayed in the waiting room with Toby, while Angel and I quietly crept inside Kami’s room. After I identified myself, the doctor nodded in my direction and thanked me for my help.

  “You’re doing great, Kami,” she said while examining her. The nurses around her were hurriedly getting her hooked up to monitors and an IV. “Deep breaths.”

  After her exam, and some observation of the baby’s vitals, the doctor turned to her team and instructed them to prep. I knew what was coming and quickly told Angel to step aside.

  “Kami, we’re going to have to prep you for an emergency C-section. The baby is in distress, but don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

  “What? What’s wrong?” Kami grasped Blaine’s hand even tighter, frantically looking between him and the doctor.

  “Nothing for right now, but we have to move quickly.”

  A nurse ushered Blaine away to change while the rest of the team moved into action. Angel and I could only step aside and let them do their jobs.

  “Is she going to be okay?” she whispered after Kami was wheeled down towards the OR. I felt her hand search for mine between us. She was scared and needed physical comfort, and while that really wasn’t my thing, I laced my fingers with hers.

  “Of course, she will. She’ll be fine.”

  “Because . . . I can’t lose her. Dom is . . . and now her . . . I can’t lose them both.”

  I wanted to ask her what she meant about Dom. What was he? He wouldn’t actually leave would he? Not without saying goodbye, right?

  Panic rose inside of me, and the need to see him grew more urgent. He couldn’t disappear. He had to get through this, if not for me, then for Kami and Angel. They needed him. They loved him. And he needed to stick around for Toby. That kid admired the hell out of him, and Dom had been the only one to break through to him.

  “Come on. Let’s go wait out here,” I said to Angel, leading her towards the waiting room.

  I needed to try one more time. I needed to believe that all hope was not lost. Not when I had just finally found it.

  I HAD ALREADY BOOKED a one-way ticket to Nowhere when I got the text from Angel.

  Kami’s in labor. Emergency C-Section. You need to be here.

  That was just one of many, but it was the only one that made me pause. Kam was in surgery? What had happened? She wasn’t due for weeks. Was the baby all right?

  No. I couldn’t let myself care. Not anymore. Caring had only brought me pain and humiliation. Loving had only
labeled me a monster.

  What if Amanda was right? It was true—most pedophiles were victims of sexual abuse. And what happened between Matthew and me when I was a kid . . . it only further proved that I was a sexual deviant. I knew what I was doing then, and I knew that I didn’t like it, but the need to be loved had been so overwhelming that it eclipsed my judgment. Maybe I was a fake and a fraud. Maybe I was doing Raven a disservice by being with her. I didn’t want to embarrass her more than I already had.

  I called the airline and had them hold my ticket. I had to say goodbye to Kami and Angel. They deserved that much. Then I would say goodbye to Toby and Raven, and exit their lives for good.

  Another text came in, and while I had been able to thwart the others, this one caught my eye.

  Please talk to me. I’m here for you. Don’t shut us out.

  Us? Us?

  Didn’t she see I was doing this for them? To save her and Toby from having to endure more pain?

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t allow myself to give a damn about how they felt. I powered down my phone and locked the door to my room. I’d stay long enough to see that Kami had made it through surgery all right, but then I was gone. For good.

  It had to have been close to midnight when the pounding started. I heard voices, both male and female, telling me to unlock the door. I wished they’d stop worrying about me. I wished they’d go away altogether. Just give up on me already.

  I grabbed my remote and clicked on the TV, turning up the volume as high as it would go.

  There. I didn’t off myself.

  That seemed to appease them.

  The next round of knocks came early in the morning, but it was only Angel this time.

  “Please Dom . . .” the small, muffled voice said from the other side of the door. “Please don’t do this.”

  I could hear her sink down to the hardwood, could see her shadow underneath the door. She sat there for a long time, waiting, sometimes crying. Thankfully she gave up around noon and left. Good. She was one step closer to letting go.