by SF Benson
“Cut the bull, Uraeleus,” Luc finally says. “I know you were responsible for what happened on the interstate two weeks ago. How many times do I have to tell you the rules? I must say your latest stunt, however, is the most reprehensible.” He narrows his eyes. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”
Cracking my knuckles, I sit back and glare at Luc. “Don’t you dare question me. You’re nothing but a young upstart trying to make a name for himself. I use to cut down men like you before breakfast. You don’t want to mess with me.”
Luc clears his throat, not showing any sign my words affect him. “This isn’t about me. If that human knows what you’ve done… If she knows what you are, I’ll have no choice but to ban you from town.”
I plant my hands on the table, stand, and look down at the unpopular leader. “Try it. When I’m done with you, it’ll be at least a century before someone finds your remains.”
The vamp lifts an eyebrow. “Perhaps you shouldn’t attend any more meetings until this matter is resolved?”
“Keep your damned meetings, Luc. I’ve heard enough shit from you to last me another millennium.” I storm out of the kitchen and down the hall, not bothering to lose my form.
It’s time Luc Duquette learns how strong Falls Creek supernaturals can be when we unite.
CHAPTER FOUR
ANTOINETTE
People shouldn’t interfere in the lives of others. That man should have left me to die on that cold, lonely road. I would have been better off. Death has to be better than lying here unable to move.
Of course, I don’t expect anyone to understand my feelings. Not my family. Not my boyfriend or my friends. Not even the handsome stranger who saved me—who thinks he saved me. Joke’s on him. His intervention condemned me to a joyless existence.
My life is still out on the highway with the leftover glass and bits and pieces of the wrecked car. The trip to Paris along with my hopes of dancing professionally are out there too.
Crippled and confined to a wheelchair is my new reality. Watching the world go by from the safety of my parents’ front porch isn’t living. It’s existing while I wait for God, in His infinite wisdom, to pull the plug permanently. May it happen sooner than later.
Naturally, my wonderfully brave parents are happy I’m alive. They assume being broken is better than dying. Unfortunately, they’re too caught up in the moment, not grasping the simple truth—everyone eventually gets over death.
Instead, Mom and Dad come to the hospital each day, believing the fairy tale. The one where the fair prince saves the poor peasant girl with a kiss, erasing her disability—an unfortunate curse. Bullshit! No matter how many damned toads I kiss, I’ll never walk again. If there is a prince charming out there, please do me a favor and hop on past here. I’ve had enough disappointment.
But my optimistic parents won’t give up. They hold my hand and attempt reassurance. Mom tells me to keep my spirits up while Dad declares it’s all just a setback. According to him, a little hard work in rehab, and I’ll be good as new. Don’t they realize rehab isn’t necessary for sitting?
My gaze drifts to the cards and flowers covering every available surface. The fragrance is so strong I’m ready to choke from it. With all the paper in this room, I’m sure there’s an entire forest destroyed. If someone made the mistake of striking a match, the place would go up in a ball of flames. This has to stop. Save the gestures for my funeral.
Every day I listen to Mom read to me from my favorite books as if Harry Potter could fix this shit. But she drones on. Hearing fantasies won’t change the truth. My truth.
Lying doesn’t change things either. Everyone around me is blowing smoke up my ass with empty expressions and pointless gestures. From Dad telling me I look better and urging the nurses to put me in a nightgown to the damned doctors being optimistic. There’s no way I’m walking out of this hospital or regaining all of my abilities. Sadly, the doctors and my family aren’t the only ones guilty of lying. The handsome man who messed up and rescued me is deception’s ring leader. Somehow he knows I’ll never walk again, but he won’t say it.
They’re all waiting for words, but words and actions won’t change a thing. I simply want to scream, “I’m not better! I’ll never be better.”
But I won’t. I’ll hold onto my thoughts because everyone means well. If they could add a dose of real magic to their utterances, then maybe I’ll heal and be whole again.
Which takes me back to the mysterious man. No one else sees him, but I do. He sits in the corner of my room, watching me. Always watching. Abby once told me about the supernaturals living in Falls Creek, but I didn’t believe her. Ghosts and other so-called things that go bump in the night are stuff of fiction and horror flicks. My best friend showed me documents about the Brewsters, a founding family. She told me founders have the task of keeping Falls Creek’s creatures secret. None of that swayed my beliefs, but now… This man—or apparition—makes me wonder. Was it my brush with death allowing me to see him? Better question: Is he able to undo what he did and let me die?
It doesn’t matter what he can do. I don’t want him here. Honestly, the only person I want in my room is the one who hasn’t shown up.
Rob.
My boyfriend has used every possible excuse not to visit me. You would think the man who begged for me to come home would have been by my side day and night. According to my parents, he hasn’t stopped by once. The only thing Rob does is call.
Dad claims Rob took a new job and has been putting in a lot of overtime hours. Bullshit. The entire time we’ve been together, Rob has practically been allergic to work, choosing instead to live off his parents’ fortune. And his parents have allowed his laziness. Only one of the many reasons why we should have ended our relationship long before the accident.
Mom speculates Rob doesn’t know how to handle what’s happened to me. Yeah, right. Like I’m doing a great job at it. I should have told Rob I didn’t know how to handle his penis when he claimed he couldn’t sleep without me. Maybe I should have said I couldn’t handle his possessiveness the night of the accident? If I had, I wouldn’t be in the hospital.
As far as I’m concerned, all of them can stay away. Keep their flowers and cards. Save their pity, lies, and excuses. Well-meaning words full of encouragement and optimism aren’t needed. If anyone wants to help me, they could do me a favor and give me a way to end this misery. Pave the road to Heaven or Hell—it doesn’t matter to me—and put me on it.
Noise slices through the intermittent beeping. Turning my head, I see a nurse with short blonde hair, and she’s pushing someone in a wheelchair. It’s Marie. My friend looks tired and fragile—as if someone said one simple word, she’d crumple like a house of cards. A bandage covers her head and left eye. Her left arm, in a cast, rests in a sling. There’s another cast on her right leg. Damn. Marie looks terrible. What condition is Abby in?
“Toni,” Marie says in a weak, pained voice.
I mutter, “Hey.”
The nurse wheels my friend closer. “I’ll give you two a few minutes alone.”
After the woman leaves, Marie starts crying. Through her sobs, she says, “I’m so sorry, Toni. Can you forgive me?”
“Forgive you? What are you sorry for? This wasn’t your fault.” My vision blurs.
Why would my best friend feel responsible for this? Hell, she wasn’t intoxicated or in any other way impaired. After much pleading, Dad told me the accident was caused by an asshole drunk driver who ran a stop sign and T-boned Marie’s car. If I could only return the favor and let the idiot know what it feels like to be in my shoes.
“I-I should have done more. Maybe if I had driven slower…” She wipes her tears with her free hand. “You and poor Abby…”
“Wait. What?” My heart stutters, and it’s hard to breathe. Mom and Dad hadn’t told me anything about my friends’ conditions. “Where’s Abby?”
Marie glances down. She smooths a hand over her hospital gown as her chin quivers. �
�Sh-she didn’t make it, Toni.”
Her words choke my breath, reach inside my chest, and grab my heart. I feel like one of those characters from the TV show where the evil queen rips out hearts. It takes a minute before my lungs work again. My breath returns with a whoosh of air.
This isn’t possible. We’re no longer the Three Musketeers. Abby, Marie, and I grew up together. When you saw one of us, the other two weren’t far away. We did everything together—homecoming dances, prom, group dates. Before I got accepted into the Paris company, the three of us were going to move into an apartment together. Marie and Abby signed a lease on their new place days ago. The girls were my pillars, my foundation when I had bad moments with Rob. They weren’t his fans, but they were my sisters. How the hell do I go on without Abby?
My throat aches, but I can’t speak. Thanks to my condition, I can’t even hug Marie. So we sit in silence, crying. Our shared agony fills the room, overtaking the flowers residing here.
When it feels like the misery will wrap me up and drag me under, the hospital door opens, and the nurse returns. Her mouth forms a small O, and her gaze bounces between our tear-stained faces as if she knows what happened. She offers me a warm smile before announcing, “I’ll send in your nurse.”
Marie doesn’t speak. She keeps her eyes lowered and allows the woman to do her job. A second nurse with red hair comes into the room, holding a syringe. She walks over to the bed and inserts the needle into the IV bag. A colorless liquid mixes seamlessly with the bag’s clear contents.
“You should get some rest,” she says quietly.
“Wait. Can you please tell me how Abby Brewster died?” I beg, fighting the effects of whatever it is the nurse gave me.
She sighs and turns to me. “Your friend died on the scene. I’m sure her death was instantaneous. She didn’t suffer.”
“What about the driver?” I hope he suffered.
“He’s in jail where he should be.”
I snap, “No. His ass should be dead, not Abby.”
The nurse frowns and says, “I agree with you.”
I nod, close my eyes, and listen to the nurse’s soft shuffle as she leaves my room. Abby might not have been in pain when she died, but she was scared. A quick death doesn’t erase that. It doesn’t change the fact the accident shouldn’t have happened.
I let the tears fall. There’s nothing that will fix any of this. I’ve lost one of my best friends while my other one is shouldering the guilt from this tragedy. I swear, if I could get out of this bed, I’d kill that driver.
Something pulls me out of my sleep. Opening my eyes, I find someone I should be happy to see, but I’m not. Rob picked the worse time to show up.
“Hey.” He places a bouquet of yellow roses on the table by my bed as if I need more. The room is starting to look like a damned floral shop.
I watch his movements, but I don’t speak. The words sitting on the edge of my tongue shouldn’t be said to anyone, especially a boyfriend.
He adjusts my bed so I’m sitting up. Then he perches on the edge of it, holding himself back like the mattress might collapse or some dumb shit. Slowly, he reaches out and takes my hand. “Babe, I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”
No words. I simply glare at him.
“I wanted to, but I didn’t think you were up to visitors.” His voice shakes slightly.
“Liar!” I shout, unable to hold back any longer. “I was in a damned coma! You could have been here with my parents. You could have checked in on Marie. Rob, you could have been here if you wanted to.” Tears slide down my cheeks as I turn my head.
“I said I’m sorry, Toni.” He drops my hand. “Don’t you think this has been hard on me?”
My head whirls back around. “Hard on you? I’m sorry. Were you in the fucking accident too?”
Rob’s hands go up, and he tugs at his curly, brown hair. It’s something he does when he’s frustrated or nervous or scared. Right now, I’ll bet he’s feeling a little of everything. “You know that’s not what I meant. I hate seeing you in pain. How was I supposed to see you like this?”
Unbelievable!
This is the man who claimed to love me. This is the man who came down with the flu last year, and I didn’t leave his side. I was there for him every minute of every day. He didn’t have to ask.
“You were supposed to man up and come here,” I point out. “You were supposed to be here when I opened my eyes.”
Rob stands and goes to the window. “I said I’m sorry. I’m a coward, okay? I didn’t want to see you like this. We need to put this behind us. When you leave the hospital, we’ll—”
Is he serious? “No! We won’t be doing anything.” I push my tangled, dark hair out of my face. “There’s no putting this behind us. Don’t you know? Or have you been too much of a coward to find out?”
He faces me: his eyebrows squishing together and gaze clouding over. “What are you talking about?”
“I can’t walk, Rob.” I exhale, wishing I could stop crying. “I’ll never walk again. Get used to seeing me like this.”
“Shit. Your dad said… The doctors said…” Rob’s voice trails off as he slides onto the chair near my bed. “I’m really sorry. Now, I feel like an ass.”
“You should,” I mutter.
“I didn’t want this…”
“News flash: neither did I.”
His head rocks up. “Can I finish?”
“Sure.” I draw in a breath and prepare to hear more excuses.
Rob looks up at the ceiling and exhales loudly. He shakes his head before glancing back at me. “When I called you, I wanted us to have one more evening together.”
“Before I left for Paris.”
His cheeks color red, and his nostrils flare. “Damn it, let me say what I have to.”
“Fine.”
“I wanted you to come over so I could say goodbye.” The words rush so fast from his mouth that he’s panting.
What is left of my heart shatters into a million pieces. Now it all makes sense. Rob couldn’t come see me after the accident because he planned to dump my ass. Fucking great.
“If I had known about your condition—”
“What? Would you have waited until you saw me at home in a wheelchair?” I yell.
Rob frowns. “It would have been better than here.”
“Why?” It’s all I want to know. Why does he want to end things? It doesn’t matter I was considering it. It’s the principle. You may have been planning on putting your dog in a shelter, but if that dog gets sick you care for it. I know. Twisted logic comparing myself to an animal, but it’s all I have at the moment.
“You were leaving me, Toni.” He points at his chest. “I didn’t want a long-distance relationship. We discussed this when we graduated from high school. It’s why we decided to stay local for college. And then you got it into your head to audition for the Paris company. Remember, I asked you not to do it. I asked you to find something closer to home.”
It’s true. All of it is true. I thought Rob was being selfish. He’s still being selfish.
When I don’t disagree with him, Rob continues. “Every time I tried to talk to you about this, you jumped in with how wonderful Paris was going to be. I got tired of hearing Paris-this and Paris-that. There was no room in your life for me.”
I choke out, “So not fair, Rob. I did everything for you. I made sure to spend my time with you. When I wasn’t at practice or at class, we were together.”
He shakes his head. “You wanted to be, but you weren’t. Are you forgetting Marie and Abby? You were with them constantly. Hell, they’d even drop by the condo when it was supposed to be about us.”
“What?” This is ridiculous. It’s so clear what he’s saying, but I don’t want to believe it. “You’re jealous of my friends?”
“No. Just realistic. A guy shouldn’t come between his girl and her friends. It’s not cool. I didn’t want you to regret being with me.”
An ache settles in the
back of my throat. I mumble, “I never did.”
“You would have.” Rob stares at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “You would have hated me if you stayed. I never wanted you to hate me.”
I wipe my cheeks. “So, it ends like this? After five years, you’re dumping me?” A sob threatens to break through, but I swallow it. “I need you, Rob. How am I supposed to do this alone?”
“You’re not alone. You have your family and friends…”
“Have you forgotten about Abby?” I say flatly.
Rob’s cheeks redden. “I’m sorry for all of this. I didn’t want to be the guy who hurt you. But, babe—”
“You don’t get to call me that!” I shout.
Rob stands and walks over to me. He tries to kiss my lips, but I turn my head, and he connects with my cheek. “I’ll never forget you, Antoinette. You’ll always have a place in my heart.”
I’m ready to tell him to get the fuck out when I notice the vial of pain pills on the table. Clearing my throat, I say, “Do me a favor before you leave?”
“Sure, ba…Antoinette. What do you need?”
Pointing to the vial, I say, “And a little water. I’m in a lot of pain.”
He nods, reaches for the bottle, refills my water cup, and places it on the table over my bed. He opens the vial. “How many?”
“Hand it to me. I’ll get what I need. You’ve done enough.”
He smiles weakly, places the container in my lap, and heads toward the door. With his fingers wrapped around the handle, Rob says, “Take care of yourself, Antoinette. It’s been great knowing you.”
I wish I could say the same.
Once the door snaps shut, I lift the vial to my mouth.
CHAPTER FIVE
Uraeleus
Idle threats have never bothered me. Back in my day, I was a take-charge man. Clinging to that worthwhile trait spurs me to do what must be done.
