Controlled Burn- To Publish

by Lani Lynn Vale

  “Why don’t you call him Core like everyone else?” she laughed lightly.

  For that reason right there.

  I liked to see her smile, and if calling the man by Apple made her smile, I would do it. Even if it got me a glare each time I used it around Apple.

  What kind of fucking name was Apple for a man, anyway?

  “’Cause I don’t want to,” I told her honestly. “You’re not answering my question.”

  She shrugged.

  “I love them. I love her. I love him. I just don’t want to be a burden,” she whispered.

  She never was.

  Kitt had seizures.

  She’d been having them since she was a young kid.

  They were, however, under control with medications.

  But, on her way to the routine appointment with her doctor in Dallas, the one where Capone was killed, the baby’s car seat had hit Kitt in the head.

  But that was neither here nor there.

  Kitt had been having more seizures than usual since she’d gotten pregnant with Emily. They’d gotten so numerous, in fact, that she’d had to start taking medicine to stop the seizures. Medicine that had to be inserted rectally.

  And today, on the way to one of her appointments in Dallas, she’d had a seizure in the car.

  It’d been weird…which for Kitt was beyond normal.

  Normally, when Kitt had a seizure, it was triggered by something. Such as stress or extreme excitement.

  Ever since she became pregnant, though, she had them whenever and wherever.

  This particular time it happened to be in my truck.

  One second I’d been driving along as she tried to get me to listen to something on her phone, and the next she’d stiffened up and started seizing.

  While she was seizing, she’d stuck her arm through the steering wheel, making it to where I either had to hurt her arm and get it removed from the wheel or wreck.

  Which turned out to not even be that easy.

  I’d managed to free her arm, only after my sister’s arm had made a weird popping noise. Then I’d promptly crashed into a semi-truck.

  “You’re not a burden, Kitt,” I whispered. “I promise.”

  A commotion at the front of the ER had me looking up in time to see Apple barreling in through the door, a look of utter helplessness on his face.

  In his arms was Emily.

  She looked tiny in the big, tattooed, scarred man’s arms.

  “Kitten!” he yelled loudly, startling the whole ER once again when they’d just calmed down from my threats.

  The baby in his arms started to cry, and he thrust her into my arms, not caring that I was bleeding all over the place.

  I took Emily in my good arm, curling her into the crook of my elbow as I stared at the two people in front of me.

  Smiling, I turned my head down to look at Emily.

  Her blue eyes were open and she was staring at me with intelligence.

  I could swear that she knew exactly what was going on.

  “Your parents are in love with each other,” I told the little beauty in my arms.

  Emily gurgled and spit started to slide out of the corner of her mouth.

  I reached for the bib she wore around her neck but froze when my arm started to protest.

  “Ouch,” I groaned.

  “You need anything?” a soft voice asked.

  I looked up to see those pretty blue eyes belonging to the blonde from earlier looking directly at me.

  I smiled at her.

  “No, not right…” I started, but then stopped short when Emily chose that second to projectile vomit across the room.

  And all over the nurse’s feet.

  The nurse laughed, but that laughter abruptly cut off when the nurse that’d told this one to go gather supplies showed up.

  “God, you’re a mess. Get out of here and go clean up. Make sure you clock out while you do it,” she ordered, pushing the pretty nurse.

  My brows furrowed.

  “You’re going to make her clock out for something a patient did?” I asked shortly.

  “You did this?” Bitchy nurse asked.

  I shook my head. “No, my niece did it. However, that’s not something you can clock her out for when it happened on the job.”

  The cute nurse, Freya C., as it read on her nametag, looked at me with relief in her eyes.

  Thank you, she mouthed.

  I winked and turned back to the bitch.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Freya, clean up this mess,” she ordered then walked away.

  “You’ll have to forgive Annette,” Freya murmured softly. “She’s had a rough time of it lately.”

  I didn’t say anything; instead, I took the paper towels she’d handed me and started to wipe of Emily’s chin.

  “Oh my God,” another nurse said, pushing in close so she could get a better look at Emily. “She’s so cute!”

  Freya was pushed to the side and her balance swayed to one side.

  To save herself form putting her ass into the vomit, she had to throw her hands to the side and catch herself.

  I scowled at the woman.

  “Move,” I ordered.

  The woman, startled by the abruptness of my words, backed away. Right into Freya.

  This time Freya really did slip.

  “Ahhh,” Freya cried, planting her entire leg into the throw up.

  I winced and hopped down off the cot, my body protesting as I did.

  “God, you’re sick,” the new nurse said to Freya. “And clumsy.”

  And that’s when I realized I was on the set of Mean Girls.

  “Get the fuck away from me,” I snapped. “Now.”

  The woman left, tossing mean looks at Freya, as if she was the reason for her predicament, the entire way to the nurse’s station across the room.

  She converged on the bitchy nurse from earlier, and together they whispered as they pointed at the poor girl at my feet.

  “Here,” I offered my hand. “Let me help you.”

  She wouldn’t take it since it was my injured hand; instead she leveraged herself up and hurried over to the sink where she started to viciously wash her hands.

  Her shoulders hunched in, and I could tell she was only a short minute away from crying.

  The poor girl’s ugly red shoes with the holes in the top probably weren’t feeling too good, either.

  Freya slipped on some gloves, then went about washing her shoe, being sure to get into each and every crevice of the shoe.

  Then she took out the little plug things. One was a Santa Claus, the other was a gingerbread man.

  On her other shoe she had a Christmas tree and a candy cane.

  “You like Christmas?” I asked her.

  She looked over her shoulder at me.

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “I do.”

  “I can tell,” I teased her.

  She even had Santa Claus earrings on.

  “Freya!” the rude cow from the nurse’s station called. “I need you in room four for a linen change. Mr. Anderson had another accident.”

  Freya’s shoulders slumped, and it was then I realized that I couldn’t watch those two bitches do this to her.

  I couldn’t let her go do this with vomit still in one shoe.

  Except the little girl in my arms started to cry, and I looked to the parents to my right and saw Kitt crying with Apple holding her and talking to her softly.

  “Fuck,” I sighed. “Fucking fuck.”

  “Language!” my sister managed to cry through her tears.

  The nurse bitch that was so rude to Freya the first time came over carrying a tray in her hand.

  She set it down on the rolling table at my bedside and started to unfold a package.

  The doctor, Carrolton, came up beside her and started to fit on some gloves.

  “I’m go
ing to guess you need about fifteen or so stitches on this cut, and…” he studied the other cut on my arm once he’d peeled back the bandage and pursed his lips. “This one will probably take around ten or so. If you’re lucky.”

  “You want me to hold her?” the nurse offered.

  I looked at her, then down to her name tag on her shirt.

  “Lucy M.,” I said. “I’m not ever going to let you hold her. Your bitchiness might rub off on her.”

  Lucy M.’s eyes went wide at my words and she started to say something cutting, but Carrolton stopped her with a raised hand.

  “Why don’t you go help Freya clean up Mr. Anderson’s fifteenth shit in the last hour? You know it’s goddamned c-diff. I can smell it. You can smell it. She can smell it. You should’ve told her he’s under precautions,” Carrolton warned.

  I was irrationally angry as I stared at the woman.

  I wasn’t completely sure of what ‘c-diff’ was, but I knew the man wouldn’t be ‘under precautions’ if he wasn’t contagious. And you didn’t send some woman in there, possibly endangering her life, because you didn’t like her.

  I didn’t care what she did.

  This bitch was not going to get away with it, and I would make sure of it.

  Rusty Nail

  12-1-16

  Chapter 1

  A woman can only run as fast as her boobs will allow her.

  -Fact of Life

  Raven

  “Oh, my God. What the fuck is it going to take to get that through your fat, thick head?” Jensen screamed on the tape that was playing in front of the court room.

  I swallowed, looking over at my lawyer who was giving me a ‘you’re okay’ nod.

  I wasn’t okay. In fact, I was so far from okay that I couldn’t even factor this into a number, but I was going to make it.

  There was a difference.

  I had an end in sight.

  I would testify to make sure that this…man or whatever he wanted to call himself…never saw the light of day without having a fence with razor wire on it in his peripheral vision again.

  This man would pay for what he did. To me. To the friend that’d been through hell with me, July. For the ladies before me that hadn’t been saved.

  Jensen would pay, and I was going to be the one to make sure he did.

  I had the information that the court and jurors needed to make the correct decision. I had the strength to fight him.

  I had rage fueling my veins, and I knew that if I could just get through this last day, then everything would be alright. I’d be able to leave this place and start anew.

  “Alright,” the judge said. “We’ve heard all this before. There’s no reason to rehash things we’ve already gone over. If nobody has anything to add, we’ll go ahead and dismiss the jurors for them to come up with a verdict.”

  When nobody objected, the judge slapped his gavel on the wood circle on his desk, stood, and then left before the bailiff could tell anyone to rise.

  The jurors were sent into the room behind them, and I took that moment to get the hell out of there.

  There was no way I wanted to be anywhere close to the courthouse when the final verdict was read.

  No sir-ree-bob.

  ***

  I knew he was there.

  I had the ability to know that he was there with some sixth sense that was centered on one man in particular.

  “Leaving won’t solve anything,” Wolf, the brother to the woman that’d been through hell and came out the other side with me, murmured.

  I shrugged and loaded up yet another box into the back of my car.

  It wouldn’t fit. I knew it wouldn’t. Yet, I had to try.

  I was having to try quite a bit lately.

  Try to get out of bed. Try to eat lunch. Try to leave my house.

  I was afraid to do all those things.

  A: I didn’t want to get out of bed. When I got out of bed, reality intruded. B: Eating lunch was what had gotten me there in the first place. I’d met Jensen while eating at my favorite restaurant. I’d thought we’d hit it off. I’d thought I finally found someone that could be happy with me. I was wrong. C: Leaving my house meant getting in the car. Getting in the car meant getting out of bed. Getting out of bed was hard on the best of days.

  Therefore, I was tired of trying.

  Tired of just about everything.

  Except this man. This man standing in front of me wasn’t a bad guy. He was a good guy.

  He was a biker. A man that had principles. A man that was taken.

  Taken by a beautiful blonde who was waving at me from the car.

  I waved back, then turned to Wolf.

  “Leaving is my only recourse at this juncture,” I murmured. “If I don’t leave, I just might get to a place that’ll be a lot harder to get out of than just this small town.”

  His eyes sharpened.

  “What makes you think that leaving will fix that?” He asked. “It won’t. I would know.”

  I laughed softly at him.

  “I don’t know if it’ll solve anything; but, at this point, it’s not going to hurt to try,” I replied. “It was very nice meeting you. I appreciate all the help you’ve given me over the last couple of months.”

  It wasn’t just a couple of months. It was eleven months, three days, and two hours since I’d been rescued.

  My final good deed had been done. And, with exception of knowing what sentence Jensen was getting, I was free to leave.

  Closing arguments had been given this morning, and I’d left before I could hear the verdict. I couldn’t handle knowing what he got. Nothing would ever be high enough to warrant me being happy.

  “You know it wasn’t a hardship,” he murmured. “Nathan’s going to miss you.”

  I smiled at the mention of Wolf’s little boy.

  He was a cutie, and a part of this small town that I’d definitely miss.

  He’s not mine.

  That was another reason I was leaving.

  These people that’d insinuated themselves in my life wouldn’t be there forever. Eventually, they’d decide that what I had to offer wasn’t worth the work it took to uphold a relationship with me.

  I was beyond broken.

  I was crushed.

  There was nothing, nor anybody, that would ever be able to put me back together again.

  “Hey!” Hannah, Wolf’s pretty girlfriend, called from the cab of the SUV they were in. “Nathan has to pee! Let’s go!”

  Wolf lifted his hand up in acknowledgement that he’d heard, and then turned back to me.

  “If you ever need anything, I’m here.”

  I smiled sadly at him.

  God, the man was beyond beautiful.

  “I know, but I won’t be calling. Thanks.”

  With that, I dropped down into the rental car I’d rented to get me to my new home.

  New Orleans was my objective, but if anything struck my fancy before I got there, I’d be stopping. Maybe to stay there for a few days. Maybe to make it my permanent home.

  Who knew?

  My eyes returned to the rearview mirror where I saw Wolf pull himself into the driver’s side of Hannah’s jeep.

  Hannah laughed at something he said as he’d gotten in, and my heart, what little of it there was left, broke.