by Peyton Banks
“Is that blood?” Mr. Alberts asked.
“Yes, call 911, please and hurry.”
My gaze roamed her body and other than a few scratches and a bruise on her face, she was okay. I looked around at the gathering crowd. “I need a towel, shirt, something I can use on this wound.” One of the men in the crowd pushed his way to us and handed me his shirt.
“Do you need help?” he asked.
“Not yet. If I don’t stop this bleeding, possibly.” I heard Key grunt as I pressed my hands against the wound.
“That…hurts…”
“I know, beautiful. I know, but I have to stop the bleeding. Can you tell me what happened?” If I could keep her alert I’d know she was breathing and not fading out on me.
Her breathing was a little labored, but she did have a wound and a two hundred and fifty pound man pressing on her torso. “Bitch…tried...to...stab...me.”
“She did stab you,” I snarled. She continued on as if I hadn’t said a damn word.
“I hit her then. We...” she took in an uneasy breath, “we fought for the knife. She hit me and I doubled over.” Another breath was pulled in, deeper this time. I could hear the ambulance and police car sirens getting closer.
“What then?” I asked.
“She got a gun. I just missed it. I don’t know what happened.”
“She should save her strength,” the stranger said. I knew he was right, but I needed to know what happened. All of it.
“She tried…to shoot...again, but I charged her. The knife...I forgot…about...the knife.”
“Fuck, woman!” someone called out from behind us. Monique was on her feet, scratching at the man trying to hold her. He failed and she ran at us. I’ve never hurt a woman except in self-defense. Being a Delta Force operative had its down sides. I used my only weapons available. My legs. As she ran I shifted, back kicked, and hit her knee. I heard the pop as she roared in pain. Her body slammed into the ground. The men around us held her all while she fought to get free. Stupid bitch was on something. No normal or sane person would be able to take that kind of hit and still be trying to get up.
“What’s going on here?” A sheriff’s deputy, one I knew well, ran up the drive. Of course everyone tried to talk at once and tell what they saw. He quieted them down quickly, and when the EMT’s arrived I moved to give them room, but I kept her in my sight.
“Isaac. That one,” I said pointing to Monique, “attacked Keisha. This is her brother’s house and that is her brother’s crazy ex. Someone needs to call Reg and tell him what’s happened. Shit, I don't have my phone on me.”
“I’ll call him,” Mr. Alberts said, moving away from us with his fingers pressing numbers on his phone. I let out a long breath.
“Do you know what caused the altercation?” Isaac asked me and I shook my head.
“I didn’t ask that. She was losing a lot of blood and I was pushing it to get what I got.” He nodded, scratching a note on his notepad.
“Here, son.” My dad popped up out of nowhere, a shirt and my tennis shoes in hand. I took them, silently, and slipped it all on while I watched the EMTs get Key on a stretcher and start moving towards the waiting bus. I jogged after them.
“I’m going with her. Tell Reg to meet us at the ER, Isaac.” I climbed in and the EMTs got the doors shut, and we were on our way. She had to be okay. There was no way I’d accept anything but okay. In that moment I did something I’d not done in years...I put my hands together, closed my eyes, and prayed.
I paced. Then paced some more. It seemed like a week had passed. I know that was just me needing to see her, to know that she was okay. Reggie, who was staring daggers at me, was in a chair across the waiting room, his boys curled up beside him. They had been crying, begging to see their auntie. Something inside of me cracked seeing the pain and hurt on their faces. From what I had overheard all they knew was that Key had had an accident at the house. Why worry them or upset them more by saying, “Sorry, kids, your deranged, psycho, high as a fucking kite, whore of a mother tried to gut Key like a fish.” I shook myself and tried to fight the rise of energy. I needed to see her or I was going to burst.
“Moore family?” A blonde nurse came in and looked around. Reggie stood, his youngest son lying across his chest.
“Is my sister all right?” he asked. I moved closer but didn’t want to be in the way.
“The doctor would like to speak to you, but I assure you she is resting comfortably right now. She’s asking for you and for someone named Phillip.” I met the nurse’s gaze.
“Reg, you go and see her. I can watch the boys for you. Then I’ll go in and see her.”
“I want to see Auntie!”
“Me too!” They both started to cry and get louder. Reggie looked at the nurse and she shook her head.
“I’m sorry, only one person at a time. Once she is moved to a room, I’m sure it will be okay for a quick visit.”
I moved to where Reggie stood and held my arms out. I had cleaned up once I got there; I’d looked as if I was an extra from a horror flick. Someone let me borrow a shirt, I don’t even remember who now. I wasn’t sure if it was out of true kindness or they wanted me to cover the scars on my chest. Scars that for once hadn’t made me self-conscious. If I could push that away for even that small moment, it meant I was getting better. Then again, for her, I’d do anything. The last two hours were sort of a blur as it was. But that stood out. I shook that thought off and brushed a hand down my chest, pressing the already tight T-shirt against me.
“I’ve got this, man.” I watched him and finally he gave in and let me take his youngest from him. The little boy, Leon, snuggled into me all while clutching a small blanket to his chest. He was sniffling which tugged at something deep inside of me. His older boy, Trey, wiped at his face and watched his dad walk out with the nurse.
I sat in the chair Reggie left and tried to not flip out. She had asked for me. I closed my eyes and rested my chin on top of Leon’s head. My mind replayed her face the last time I’d seen her. She didn’t know I was there, I shouldn’t have been, but I saw her and I couldn’t stay away.
* * *
“Let’s go,” someone called out, but I couldn’t move. My feet were rooted to the window edge. She sat at a table in the back of the restaurant, a smile on her face as she spoke with a table of men and women. They were all dressed up, wine glasses before everyone but her.
“Thomas, shift your ass,” Laroe calls out, his hand up to flag down a taxi. I sighed and shook my head.
“Go ahead, I’ll see you at the hotel.” The group of four men, all of whom had held my life in their hands more than once, watched me. It was Palmer who came to where I was standing.
“It’s her, huh?” He gave me a hard look at my mod. He’d seen her picture, the one I carried with me. She had been only seventeen in that image. A big smile lighting up her face. She had always been so beautiful. It had hurt to leave her. I’d regretted it every day of my life.
“You gotta stop stalking her. It’s not a good look on you, man. You left her in the past; unless you’re ready to open that can again, I’d shift it. That table is getting up.”
He was right, but my heart and mind were barreling. Her red dress hugged her small frame. The heels she wore showcased her legs. She had grown into such a beautiful woman. His grip tightened on my arm and I gave in. I didn’t want her to see me. Not here, not now. Not like this. Half drunk and trying to convince myself she was better off without me. No matter how hard that hurt. She had a job that she was excelling at, so reports said. I’d just needed to see for myself. The last two days I’d been able to get glances of her. I was heading back out on Friday for one last mission before my time was up. I wasn’t re-enlisting again.
I was messed up in the head; my time in Special Forces wasn’t always good to me. The scars I wore were both mental and physical. God only knew what the next mission would have in store for us. We were to be back on base, ready to get back to work on Thursday m
orning. In two days she would be pushed to the back of my mind again so I could focus on the upcoming mission.
She deserved more than me anyway. I wouldn’t do anything but bring her pain and heartache. I’d already done that. I didn’t want to do it again.
* * *
I rubbed at my chest where the disfiguring scar was. That mission had brought more than a final bang to my life. It had almost ended it. A long breath whooshed out of me at the thoughts filling me. If I’d never come back, I wouldn’t have been there to help her. To save her. I closed my eyes tightly, reminding myself that I held an innocent child against me. I couldn’t have a breakdown. Now was not the time to relive that day or the weeks that followed. I had to be in the here and now.
She needed me. Reggie needed me. I’d not let them down again. I’d done that once and unlike some people, I’d learned from my mistakes. If you continue to repeat them, they are no longer mistakes; they're choices. Only a true asshole would do that. My dad came to mind. I would not be like that man. Never. It would be a cold day in hell before I let that happen.
4
Keisha
I hurt all over. Though it wasn’t a severe stabbing pain—no pun intended—thanks to the pain meds. It was a dull ache. The kind that made it impossible to get comfy, not that a hospital bed ever made it possible for you to be comfy. Let’s be honest here though, I was still too mad to calm myself and relax. That bitch had tried to stab me, then to shoot m,e only to end up actually stabbing me when she didn’t get what she wanted. If I’d have been paying better attention this wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t be lying here now. I wouldn’t have been in this bed for what seemed like hours already.
The night's events rolled back through my mind. If I’d have ignored her banging on the door, what would have happened? If I’d have explained to the psychotic bitch that the boys weren’t there, maybe it would have changed the outcome. All of it was a lot of maybes. I should have just called the cops to have her removed. Reggie had a court order showing he has full custody of the boys. She’d been declared unfit long ago by abandoning them and not contesting the hearings.
Stupid bitch didn’t know how lucky she was that I was stuck in this bed. I wanted to get my hands on her again. This time I’d be smarter, and I’d fight harder, dirtier. She’d never get over on me again. Not a chance in hell.
* * *
“I told you to leave!” My voice rose as I pointed towards her ratty car. I’d been standing here for five minutes, trying to keep my cool, but this bitch wasn’t listening to me. I stomped down the steps and into the yard. Maybe she was deaf and I needed to be closer for her to get it. “Get in the hooker mobile and get the hell out of here. Go!” If she fucked around until Reg and the boys came home…no. I’d not let those babies see her like this. It would traumatize them.
“You will give me my kids! He can’t keep them from me!”
“He can, he has full, legal custody of those boys. You have no right to them in any way. Now fuck off!”
A knife flicked open in her hand. The sun was starting to set and the gleam of the rays across the blade made my skin crawl. Why can’t people just fight with their hands like they used to? Though I guess for someone like her, someone who grew up on the streets, getting into trouble all the time, you have to have some way of keeping yourself safe.
I stiffened when she met my gaze. This bitch was seriously going off the deep end. I could see the crazy in her. If she wasn’t crazy, which let’s face it, she totally was, then she was under the influence of something. Her eyes were open, but I’d not seen her blink. Her pupils were dilated, which was kind of creepy. There was a lot going on with her.
She charged me. My hand came up and blocked the knife but not the punch to my face. I stumbled back, keeping my grip on her wrist, jerking her around. I kicked and hit where I could. She went down hard and I took in a deep breath. My heart was beating so hard and fast my body was vibrating. I heard the click of a gun and moved just in time to feel grass be thrown up beside me. I jerked to the side, my hand going for the gun. This was ridiculous.
It was then I felt the burn and pain slice through my side. My anger flared and with all the might I had in me, I struck her in the jaw. Her head cocked back and the world around me started to pulse and dim.
A man, an angel I’d not seen in so long, was suddenly there. He growled out orders and kept my attention on him. What I saw first, other than the pain crossing his features, were the marks on his chest. I wanted to reach up and touch them but I couldn’t. Pain was absorbing every bit of energy I had, but even with that, something deep inside of me wanted him closer.
The anger and heartache was nothing in that moment. If it was my last, I wanted him to be here to hold me like he used to. The petty shit, the worry, the unease he used to fight was replaced with so much more. His hands pressed against me, my blood coating him as he reached for something else to press onto the wound.
My words were jumbled in my head, but he seemed to understand what I was saying. Then just like before, he was gone. Strangers talked over me, worked the pain even further into my bones. I searched for him and then there he was again, covered in my blood, watching me and the monitors I could hear beeping. I’d closed my eyes, praying I came out of this. He needed to know I never stopped loving him.
* * *
The beeping around me got louder causing me to wince. A nurse peered over the bed, her blue gaze meeting mine.
“Are you in pain?” I was, in more ways than one right now. I nodded and tried to wipe at the stupid tears wetting my cheeks. “Okay, tell me where the pain is on a scale of one to ten. One being no pain; ten being the worst pain you’ve ever felt.”
I swallowed and tried to get my brain and mouth to work together. “Eight,” I rasped out.
“I’ll get you something for the pain and a little bit to drink. I’ll be right back.” I watched as she went out the room and closed my eyes again. I wished my brother was still in here. I hated being alone in these places. It always felt like someone was watching me. Maybe it was just my imagination or the drugs. I felt tears pricking my eyes; I held them back. Reggie’s face had been paler than normal when he’d come in earlier. He was so scared for me. I get it, I was scared too, but seeing him like that…it made me want to get up and go to the sheriff’s office to beat down that crazy ass woman. Pain be damned.
He’d sat with me for a long while, talking until the sheriff and his deputy came in. They asked a lot of questions and I’ll be honest, some things were a little blurry. I had to think before I spoke. The meds they had me on had my brain fuzzy. It took a bit to give them the full rundown on what happened when Monique came to the house. He’d left with them so he could get the boys to bed. I knew he’d be answering a lot of questions tonight. My poor nephews were never going to forget this. I’d have to make sure they understood this was an accident. I’d make up something that those sweet babies could understand.
I heard the room door open, but I wasn’t ready to open my eyes again. I yawned softly and took in a deep breath through my nose. My chest hurt when I did that, but I was tired. I desperately wanted to go home, but thanks to that twat, her knife, and the two busted ribs, I had to stay overnight. I didn’t want to, but they did have awfully good drugs so I gave in. Not like I really had a choice anyway.
A loud sigh escaped me when I heard someone move closer to the bed. If they wanted more blood and were bringing me drugs, I was going to have a meltdown. Maybe. That would take a lot of energy. I raised my arm as best as I could, the IV pulling slightly causing me to wince. “Give me the good stuff, please.”
Silence greeted me for the span of three seconds, then his voice rolled across my skin causing a shiver to stop in places it shouldn’t.
“I’d love to but I’m not sure you can handle that right now.”
My eyes flew open and I was greeted by his brown and gold irises staring down at me. His eyes scanned my face, his brows creased, anger lines pinching t
ogether. I had one helluva bruised cheek; the nurse had let me see a mirror. Ugh. I was somewhat fair in the face and it was going to stand out like a damn beacon.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t faster.” He brushed a finger along my unbruised cheek. “I heard arguing then that shot. I had no idea. If I’d have seen it sooner, I could have kept this from happening.”
My hand moved on its own accord and rested against his chest, my fingers pressing into his shirt, as he leaned over me. “This wasn’t anyone’s fault except that fucking bitch’s.” I felt him tense then slowly relax. The only movement was the feel of his breathing. That seemed to calm something inside of me...but it shouldn’t. I was mad at him for leaving me. He broke my heart, walked away from this town, from me, and never looked back.
“I’m sorry—”
“I didn’t—”
We spoke at the same time. I closed my eyes, fighting back a wave of tears. What the hell was that all about? I hated crying. Hated it. I’d rather be...stabbed. Yeah, no. I can’t say that anymore now that I know how bad this hurts. I squeezed my eyes to no avail as the stupid tears rolled out from under the lids. I heard him shift as my hand tightened in his shirt.
“You can’t just show back up,” I said, not opening my eyes.
“I didn’t know you were back. I didn’t know I was coming back. Gran dying, it changed everything. I can’t trust Dad to not fuck up. I won’t let him lose everything they worked so hard to build.” His fingers gently wiped my tears away. “I know I hurt you. I know this because that was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” My eyes opened when he paused. I could see the hurt rolling across his features. Something told me he said the words but didn’t mean them. He wasn’t going to share it right now. I knew that look.
