by Elle Boon
“Fuck her and the horse she road in on. Listen, you feel a connection to this woman?” Brax asked.
“Yes. The night she was attacked I wasn’t even supposed to be in that area. I mean, do I look like the Beverly Hills boutiqueish type? I’d just got done surfing with the guys and decided to go for a ride. I parked my rental on the side of the road and started walking. Mindlessly walking. I can’t explain what was drawing me, but my legs kept moving and something was telling me to go a certain way. The next thing I know I had supersonic hearing, or some shit. Now, I’m supposed to forget all about her, unless she calls me. I can’t unless you do your thing.” He walked outside, ignoring everyone walking around him.
Brax sighed. “Hal, I can’t do that. You won’t be happy if I did. You’ll always be missing a piece of your soul. Trust me on this. Get your ass down here to Texas, and then when this is over, you and me will head to Cali for a little convo with Mrs. Evans.”
“God damn, Brax. I can’t stand feeling like someone just ran over my heart. I don’t even know anything about her, or what the sound of her voice could be like, and I miss her. Fuck I sound like a stalker. I’m hanging up now and getting my shit together, figuratively, and physically. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Hal hit the end button on the phone and shoved it into his pocket. He thought of deleting the Evans’ numbers from his phone, but changed his mind.
What he thought would be a quick job, turned out to be one long assignment after another. He’d lost track of time, and hadn’t thought of the month. The busiest times of the year for the smokejumpers were between April and June. Hal shrugged his backpack off, dropping it near his feet. He and the rest of his crew had just finished beating back a huge fire. Night had fallen, and it had been over two weeks since he’d heard anything about Felicity. He’d tried calling her mother, only to get her voicemail each time. Finally he’d decided to wait until he was finished with the fire, and head back to California. This time he was taking Brax with him.
“Still no word about your girl?” Brax asked, handing him a bottle of water.
Hal shook his head, the light from the overhead moon lending them sufficient lighting to see by. They’d already packed up their gear and were waiting on their pickup. “I fear her mom’s going to change her number.”
Brax squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. You know I’ve got contacts.”
That would normally settle everything, except he didn’t think things were quite the way they seemed.
The next morning as they were preparing to leave, Brax’s phone rang. Hal’s nerves, already stretched thin, ratcheted up another ten notches. He knew before Brax hung up he wasn’t going to like what his friend and captain had to say. When the other man looked at him with sorrow and shook his head, he dropped his duffel.
“What’s wrong?” Hal asked.
Without prevaricating, Brax told him about another fire. Their team was being called since they were the closest firefighter crew with the right skills. Hal wanted to throw up his middle finger and walk out the door, but lives were at stake, while Felicity would still be healing. He’d go out and do his job, then he’d hop on the first plane to Beverly Hills.
“At least we got a good night sleep,” Brax said as he hung up his phone.
* * * *
It had been over eight weeks since she’d woken up after she’d been attacked. Felicity was ready to have the last of her bandages removed, and see what kind of damage she was going to have to face for the rest of her life. She shuddered, thinking of the pain she’d endured at the fists of the man intent on causing her as much destruction as he could. The sound of the woman laughing rang in her ears, and in her nightmares.
The echo of her mother’s distinctive clip clop walk could be heard long before her overly obnoxious perfume could be smelled. Felicity wanted to tell her mother to stop walking so loudly, to stop drowning herself in so much of the floral stuff, but she didn’t do either of those things. She sat in the comfy chair on the veranda of some tropical clinic, waiting for the queen to arrive, aka her mother.
“Ah, are you ready to get those pesky bandages off, my darling?” Felicia asked.
Felicity rolled her eyes behind the protective covering, accepting the air kisses her mother bestowed upon her. “Yes, mom. Can we get on with it please?” There was something different about her mom, but until she could lay eyes upon her, Felicity couldn’t figure it out. She’d been closer to her mother than to anyone else in the world.
“You always were so impatient, Fliss.” Her mother’s deep sigh was followed by the sound of approaching feet.
The heavier tread she recognized as Dr. Watkins, the man who’d been in charge of her overall care. Felicity didn’t understand what she needed him for, nor all the nurses, but she was happy for the meds to help her sleep.
“Did you ever find the man who saved me?”
Her mother’s swift intake of breath was telling. Felicity may not have been able to see for the last eight weeks, but she’d utilized all her other senses. Her time hadn’t been spent sitting doing nothing. She’d been training her body and brain to use the parts that did work. When she’d woken from the coma to find she couldn’t see, and that she was strapped down to a hospital bed, the only thing that kept her sane was the thought of the man with the deep rumbling voice. Her savior. She’d tried to call out to him, but her mouth had been wired shut due to both jaws being shattered. Panic had made her thrash around, setting off all kinds of alarms in the hospital room.
Even now she was scared to move her mouth apart. The wires had only been removed from her jaws two days ago, but they’d reapplied the bandages immediately. Felicity hadn’t questioned the why, only wanted to know where the mysterious man was. The following days and weeks after the attack were a blur to her. She honestly couldn’t remember much, other than excruciating pain, and the loss of the man, until she’d woken up on the tropical island. Her mother said he’d made sure she was safe, but he’d not left a contact number, that he was a tourist on vacation. However, Felicity felt in her heart, her mother wasn’t telling the truth.
“Good morning, Felicity. Are you ready to get the bandages off?” Dr. Watkins asked.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, doc. I just hope my job is still waiting for me when I get home.”
Felicia patted her knee. “Don’t worry about that silly old job, Fliss. You concentrate on getting better.”
Her mother’s admonishment had her grinding her back teeth, causing her jaws to ache.
“Don’t do that. You’ll hurt yourself.” The doctor touched her face.
How he knew she was doing anything behind the bandages she had no idea. She was tired of being the only one unable to see herself.
Every time they’d remove the dressings to do whatever needed done, her mother insisted she not look in the mirror. Felicity assumed the damage had been massive, and even though she’d never been a beauty, people never stopped and stared like she was a freak. Now, she feared that’s exactly what was going to happen, especially in the town they lived. Beverly Hills, the place where all the beautiful people lived, where plastic people were the norm.
A sob caught in her throat. “Just take these off. I’ll deal with the ugly duckling.”
She heard her mother make a choking noise. Dr. Watkins ignored them both, his capable hands began cutting away at the bandages. With each snip she swore her head was getting lighter.
“Don’t forget to breathe, dear.” Felicia’s fingers worked to uncurl hers from the chair.
“I take offense at the reference, Felicity. I think you will be pleased with my work. Honestly, it’s probably my best work, and that’s saying a lot.”
Somewhat alarmed at his words, Felicity inhaled and exhaled deeply. The last of the bandages came off without fanfare, her hands came up automatically, feeling for the scars she knew would be there.
“Now understand there will be some numbness where the incisions were, but they’re behind the hairline. You shouldn’t see any wi
th your hair down. I believe the oral surgeon has told your mother, and you, that your jaws will not be completely healed for nine to twelve months, correct?” Dr. Watkins asked.
Felicity nodded. She’d had too many doctor, nurses, and physical therapist visits in the last eight weeks to last a life time. They said she was lucky that the most painful part of her recovery had been while she was in a coma. Felicity remembered waking up a couple times to pain that made her wish for death. Her face felt foreign to her, along with her eyes. She no longer needed to wear glasses, which she’d worn since third grade.
“Dr. Paililo told me what to expect, along with my daily exercises, weeks ago. I have been doing them under the eagle eye of my mother. Oh, and I’ve been brushing quite diligently I might add.” She smiled, feeling no pain as she did so. Her mom had made sure she knew the importance of good dental hygiene long before the attack, having the necessity reaffirmed by the oral surgeon was unneeded.
“Good, good. Would you like to see my masterpiece?” Dr. Watkins pulled a handheld mirror from his bag.
Felicia grabbed his hand. “Maybe we should let her sit and enjoy the feeling of having no bandages.”
Her mother seemed reluctant for her to look, which had butterflies dancing in her empty stomach. Felicity placed her hand over her flat abdomen, laughing at how she’d always wanted to be thin. Since her attack ten weeks ago, she’d dropped over forty pounds. The clothes she’d longed to wear, but always thought her hips and thighs were too big, were now something she could put on and look good in. She’d gone from an average size twelve to a slim size six. Her mom had gone shopping, bringing bags upon bags of things in for her to try on in the last week.
“No, I want to see. You know what they say about peeling a band aid off, right? If you do it slowly it’s more painful.”
“What do you think?” Dr. Watkins was cut off by Felicia taking the mirror from him.
“Fine, but your father and I want you to know that we have always thought you the most beautiful thing in the world. When you were so terribly damaged, we asked the doctor to put you back to the way you were. He said it would be almost impossible because they had to remove some of your jaw bones. Your cheeks were shattered along with your nose, so it was like putting together a puzzle after the table was picked up and shaken, only the pieces were replaced with similar ones,” Felicia said.
“What are you saying, mom?” A sense of panic came over her.
“Does she not know?” Dr. Watkins looked between Felicity and her mother.
“We wanted only the best for our baby. Dr. Watkins and his team are the best. You will see. Go ahead, doctor, let her see.” Felicia got up from her perch.
Felicity grabbed the mirror, but closed her eyes. Why was she scared to see what had been done to her? An image of the terminator flashed into her mind. Was she metal under the skin? She didn’t feel anything that resembled cold steel. Tapping into the courage that helped her fight back against her attackers, she lifted the mirror and looked at herself. Only the person staring back at her didn’t look like the person she’d stared at for the last twenty-four years. The green eyes weren’t the same shape either. She blinked, thinking the image would change, but the green only sparkled more with the onset of her tears. No longer was her nose a little too long, or her chin a bit too wide. Her cheekbones seemed higher and more prominent, however that could be due to the weight loss, but Felicity thought it was the cosmetic surgery. Even her eyebrows were raised, and already looked like they had the perfect arch. Her mouth was the only thing that didn’t look completely foreign with their fuller upper lip.
She touched her lips first as they trembled. “Why?” The one word question spilled out.
“Felicity, we couldn’t make you look exactly like you were. Have you seen some celebrities who looked like they’d had really bad surgery? Well, they were the ones with unrealistic expectations. Your parents showed me your picture. I then took what I had to work with and, honey, I couldn’t put you back that way without even more work. We removed fragments of bones. I didn’t want to put too much foreign body parts into you. In order to not do that we had to shave down.”
Listening to the doctors explanations she continued to look at the stranger in the mirror. Everything about her was different. “Who am I now?” She asked her mom.
“You are Felicity Evans. You’re a fighter, and my daughter.”
“But this isn’t me. I’m not beautiful like this.” She pointed at her face.
“Dr. Watkins has done a wonderful job, yes, but you’ve always been beautiful.” Felicia took the mirror away, wrapping her arms around her.
Felicity let her mom hold her while they both cried. She cried for the not so pretty woman she used to be, and for the person her parents made her look like. She wasn’t sure who she was anymore, but she was not a whiner.
A throat cleared. “I’ll let you two have this time together. There may still be some numbness, but that is normal. Your mother has my number if you need anything. Felicia, walk me out?”
“Go ahead.” Felicity stepped back from her mom. She wasn’t even sure when she’d stood up. One of the housekeepers came out to clean up, and smiled at her. Felicity let her hair fall to cover her face, an action she’d done thousands of times in the past. No more. She didn’t have a reason to hide her face because she was in Beverly Hills. Her lank brown hair needed a trim.
“Hi Marta, do you know where I can get a haircut?”
Marta’s eyes widened. “Oh, well, you should probably speak with Mrs. Evans. I’m sure she could organize something for you.”
Seeing the anxiety on the older woman’s face Felicity nodded. “Thank you. I’ll do that. Breakfast was lovely as usual.” She’d made it a habit to thank the staff, and try to not be a burden.
“I’ll pass that on to the chef. He will make note of your choices.”
No matter how nice, or chatty, none of the employees would engage her in conversation. Felicity thought they were afraid of the bandages. Now, with them gone, Marta still didn’t make eye contact.
“Marta, have you seen me? The bandages came off.” She asked, facing the bull head on.
“Yes, Ms. Evans. You are quite beautiful. We here at the villa have prayed you would recover fully. After we’d heard about your accident, none of us wanted to offend you. Thank you for being such a gracious guest.”
Felicity reached out and grabbed Marta’s hands. “You all have been wonderful. I thought something was wrong. All this time none of you talked to me, except polite chit chat.”
“Mrs. Evans instructed us on what to say and not to say. We value our jobs, young lady,” she said with a smile.
Her mother sounded like a tyrant. Felicity guessed her mom could be, especially when she thought her daughter was dying. “My mom is really a big softy, she was just scared. Don’t worry about her. I do need a haircut though. Look at these ends.” She pulled her long brown hair over her shoulder.
The sound of heels on the tiles announced her mother’s return. “Thank you, Marta, that will be all.”
“Mother, don’t be rude. I was just asking Marta if she knew where I could get my hair trimmed at.” Her mother’s expression was priceless.
“I’ll have a stylist come out and take care of it. For now, I think you need to rest.” Felicia waved Marta away.
Although she felt like she’d done nothing but sleep or rest since she’d woken up, and she wanted to tell her mother to back the heck up, she was tired. Hating the weakness in her body from the lack of exercise, she decided she was taking back her life as soon as she woke up.
Chapter Three
“Seriously, it’s been over two months. Are you going to continue to pine after some chick you don’t even know?” Slater O’Neil asked
Hal stared at him across the table. Slater had replaced Keanu on their smokejumper team, and was now the youngest member of their squad. He looked over to see Brax talking on his cell phone.
“I’m not pining
asswipe. It’s just strange that she’s just gone.” Hal swallowed down another drink of his beer.
“Not so. You said she comes from money. More than likely they put her in some fancy shmancy clinic to rest and recover. You know, those places where the stars go after they have plastic surgery. Like a no-tell-motel.” Slater lifted his bottle, like he’d just made a score.
Slater looked more like a young surfer, but his words had merit. His skills were unparalleled when it came to racing and putting out fires. Not to mention he had some serious cash himself. Mrs. Evans would’ve wanted to take her daughter away from the prying eyes of everyone, especially him. He didn’t understand why the older woman hated him. He’d saved her daughter’s life, not been the one who’d hurt her. His size scared people at first. At over six foot four, he’d learned to speak softly with his deep voice. His grandmother used to say his hands and feet reminded her of the saying about puppies. When people would look at a puppy and see large paws, they’d say he was going to be a big dog. Hal’s shoe size had been a size fourteen at the age of fourteen, much to his mom’s dismay. Luckily they’d stopped growing when he’d turned fifteen at the same size of fifteen. He could palm a basketball in one hand with no problem, so if he’d been a puppy, they’d have been a little afraid he’d be a huge dog. He assumed the same was true for humans. He did his best to appear less threatening.
Maybe tossing a man ten feet and impaling him on a pole turned her off, or the fact he’d knocked the other two assailants so hard they would never be the same again. Speculations did him no good. All he wanted to do was see for himself that she was okay. Resolution is what they called it. Then he could walk away and go on with his life. Maybe if he kept telling himself the lie it would become truth, and maybe pigs would fly too.
Brax hung up from his call, his easy smile gone. “You’re not going to believe this shit. I can’t get anything out of the assholes out in Cali on your girl. It’s like a net is cast over them, or someone much more powerful is protecting her than we believed. I think we need to head out to the West Coast for a vaca, get some sun and sand. They can keep me out over the phone, but nobody can in person.”
