Toxic Secrets

by Jill Patten

  Every nerve in my body felt fidgety. My insides were bouncing around in different directions like a pin ball machine. Time was ticking in slow motion. The elevator felt like it was moving slower than a sloth climbing a tree.

  Sean must have been able to sense my restlessness. “He’s okay, Courtney. The surgery went well. It’s not as bad as they feared,” he smiled.

  He wouldn’t tell me this if it were untrue, so I knew he was right. Once again, his smile warmed my spirit and brought me hope.

  Slowly, I opened the door, not expecting to be greeted with eyes of the devil. Maryann’s malicious glare followed me in, giving me the coldest stare and causing chill bumps to appear all over my body. I swear I could feel the temperature in the room drop twenty degrees from the menace emanating from her evil soul. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

  Knowing I had already wavered somewhere along her scale of distaste, I was pretty sure I had now surpassed the hate meter.

  Trying to stay discreet, I stood against the wall beside the door. Not trusting her enough to know if she would turn psycho and beat my ass, I didn’t want to press my luck with the bitch-witch. I wasn’t taking any chances to find out either.

  Sean walked over by Maryann leaning down to tell her something I couldn’t clearly hear. I thought he told her to give us some time alone, but I wasn’t sure. She stood from the chair to give Phillip a kiss on his forehead then left the room without acknowledging me on her way out. I’d thought of telling her that I was sorry, but decided against it. Silence was usually the best option to choose when it came to dealing with her.

  Sean followed closely behind her then stopped before stepping out of the room. “Take all the time you need, Courtney. I think he’s going to need all the love and support we can give him.”

  Tiptoeing over to Phillip’s bedside, I absorbed the trauma lying in front of me. Monitors beeping, tubes twisted in all different directions, and Phillip lying there wrapped up like a mummy in bandages and blankets. All the agony hit me at once. My heart was broken. My eyes released tears of pain for this boy I loved, lying helpless in this hospital bed because of me.

  Lacing my fingers through his, I lowered myself into the chair his mother had vacated. Immediately, I felt him lightly squeeze my hand. Eagerly, I looked up at him happy to see those beautiful, milk chocolate, brown eyes staring back at me. He tried smiling, but instead winced from the deep cut in his lip. I didn’t deserve his smile. He should be angry with me.

  My phone buzzed in my back pocket indicating a text message. I ignored it without looking, only wanting to focus my attention on Phillip and his needs. “I’m so sorry, Phillip. It should’ve been me, not you. I should’ve been paying better attention. I lost my temper. I wasn’t focused on my surroundings. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Will you please forgive me?” I was on the brink of becoming hysterical. Tightening my grip on his hand, I held on for dear life as I buried my face in the blankets, crying out in pain—the pain I was causing him. Of all the horrible things he’d done to me, I still couldn’t find it within myself to watch him suffer.

  Phillip very slowly ran his fingers through my hair, shushing me. “It was an accident, it wasn’t your fault,” he paused. It appeared the anesthesia was still strong in his system. He was struggling to stay awake.

  “It was the stupid asshole’s fault that ran that red light,” he whispered. “I saw him right before he hit us, but it wasn’t enough time for me to warn you.” He closed his eyes, fatigue clearly taking over. Sitting there, I stared at his peaceful but battered face in disbelief. He wasn’t blaming me. Instead, he was actually consoling me. The one time I didn’t deserve his forgiveness and he was giving it, effortlessly.

  “I’m sorry,” he choked out.

  Those were two of the simplest words to say, except most people found them so hard to speak. I’d prayed many sleepless nights for him to tell me he was sorry. Those two words I longed to hear from this boy I still hopelessly loved, but had given up all hope of ever being told. If I hadn’t read the words form on his full lips, I would have never believed my ears. Since the day we met, that was the first time he ever told me he was sorry.

  Now here he was lying in bed, unable to walk, while I sat beside him with nothing but a few bruises, and he was telling me he was sorry. Phillip was damaged far worse than I ever imagined.

  My phone buzzed again with a text message. I ignored it—again. All the important people in my life knew where I was and what condition I was in.

  Not sure if I should say something back or not, I just sat there motionless. I wanted to tell him he didn’t need to apologize because the accident wasn’t his fault, but I wasn’t really sure what he was apologizing for. I wanted to believe it was for all the hell he’d put me through, but now wasn’t the time for nasty thoughts, as such, to be filtering through my head. Even if I asked him, I wasn’t sure if he was even coherent enough to know I was still there.

  All my attention focused on him for what felt like hours, but was actually only minutes passed. Patiently waiting for any type of movement, he finally blinked a couple of times, barely opening his eyes. His eyelids hung low, but I could tell he was looking at me through his lush eyelashes. “I love you, please don’t leave me,” he murmured then closed his eyes before squeezing my hand.

  I sat there dumbfounded.

  Was he delirious from the drugs administered to him? He was saying things I’m sure he didn’t mean. Maybe it was one of those situations where a person felt threatened or unease by certain situations or circumstances, and they were able to muster enough nerve to tell how they really feel? I knew first-hand that’s how an inebriated person functioned, so why would pain medication be any different?

  My phone buzzed one more time in my back pocket. Pulling it out, annoyed by the disturbance, I turned it off.

  I shook him lightly. I needed an answer. I needed to know if he was talking to me or someone else. He could’ve easily been talking in his sleep or talking out of his head. Hard drugs could screw up a person’s ability to think clearly, right? I shook him a little harder. “Phillip,” I whispered. “Phillip, wake up. Talk to me, please?” I pleaded, raising my voice a little.

  I stood from my chair to get closer to his ear when I heard the door open. I jumped back from the bed, feeling like I was doing something I wasn’t supposed to be. Dread coursed through my body when the last person I wanted to see was standing in the doorway.

  Maryann glared at me with a suspicious look upon her face.

  “Umm, he just fell asleep,” I explained, stumbling over my words. Why was I letting this woman intimidate me? I had enough weight lying on my shoulders. I didn’t need the belittling comments and stares she loved throwing my way.

  Her cold stare quickly cut over to Phillip, the ice melting in her eyes as she looked at her son with compassion and pity. She didn’t speak to me, nor look at me further. Instead, she walked over to Phillip’s bedside and adjusted his blankets and IV.

  “You can leave now,” she forced out with a harsh tone, deliberately refusing to acknowledge my presence in front of her.

  I circled my thumb a few times over his cut up knuckles before leaning down to lightly press a kiss to them. My lips lingered on his rough skin as I whispered bye to him then walked out of the room without looking at Maryann.

  As soon as the door shut behind me, I released a rush of air I’d been holding in.

  Sean was standing outside of the door. He approached and draped his arm around my shoulders giving me the reassurance I desperately needed. “He’s going to be fine you know.” I could only nod, once again fighting back tears. “Go home and get some rest. Your mother is worried about you,” he said, then kissed the top of my head. “Maryann is staying here tonight. If anything changes, we’ll let you know.”

  I rolled my eyes, knowing full well that I would never hear any updates unless I called Sean myself or visited Phillip alone.

  Chapter
21 ~ Jaxon

  “Shit!” I gritted between clenched teeth. Before I even realized what I had done, pieces of my phone were lying on the shiny, wooden floor and scattered across the bar room. Don’t lose control, Jax. You’ve worked too hard for too long.

  Since I received that first text from Kendra, I told myself I wouldn’t lose my cool. But, without any reassurance from Courtney, I was quickly slipping off my security vine. I was on the verge of losing my fucking mind. I couldn’t stop the same damn questions from running through my head.

  Why the hell was she not answering her phone? Kendra said she was okay, but what if she wasn’t. What if she just told me that so I wouldn’t worry? What the hell was she doing with Phillip anyway? Does she not want to talk to me anymore? Had she gone back to him? What had he done to cause the wreck?

  If something bad happened to her, I would kill that fucking bastard. Nothing would give me pleasure more than to wrap my long, thick fingers around that giraffe neck of his and choke him out until his face turned the deepest shade of blue. “Fuck!” I screamed out in rage, my voice ricocheting through the empty bar.

  Troy broke my murderous thoughts as he walked out of the office in his ‘I’m a badass’ cool stride. “Yo bro, I think you need to get that temper of yours under control before I have to pin you down and make you beg for mercy,” he grimaced, pulling out the bar stool beside me to straddle. “What’s got you all pissed off?”

  My fists were still balled up tight. I guessed it was my body’s natural reaction to all the feelings I had for Phillip. I took several deep breaths, slowly releasing the tension and calming the blood flow. Flexing my fingers, I stretched the tight muscles in my hands. I needed to practice my breathing techniques before telling Troy what was going on.

  Was I going to do this? Did I want to do this? Did I want to reveal the irrational thoughts that streamed through my mind? I blew him off earlier, but it was only a matter of time before he figured things out, he always did. “You know that girl, Courtney, I told you about?” Troy nodded. “Well she’s been in a really bad car accident, and, even though her best friend told me she’s okay, I can’t get her to answer my calls or my texts.”

  Troy carefully scrutinized me like I was a three-headed alien sitting in front of him. He shook his head with a smirky grin on his face. “Are you for real, dude?”

  “What do you mean am I for real? Hell yeah, I’m for real,” I scoffed, my voice growing louder. “You think it’s funny? Fuck you, Troy!”

  The bar stool crashed into the side of the counter, and Troy was in my face faster than I could blink. “Listen here, you little whiney prick. You’re not gonna take your frustration out on me. Throwing a tantrum and breaking your cell phone all because some little girl won’t acknowledge you is childish.” Jumping to my feet, I was ready to throw a punch if necessary. Troy stood still. His demeanor was calm, but his eyes told me he was not affected by my challenge. “Sit the fuck down, Jax. I’m not fighting you, and I’m not laughing at you, but you need to calm down,” he said coolly while he picked up his stool, inspecting it for damage before setting it upright.

  We hadn’t fought since we were in grade school. We’d come close more times than I would like to admit, but we both knew it was best to never cross that line. Our friendship was worth more than stepping over the line and destroying a lifelong friend and loyal business partner.

  I lowered myself back onto the bar stool. “You don’t understand,” I half whispered.

  Troy leisurely sat back down on his stool beside me. “You’re right, I don’t understand because you won’t tell me what the hell is going on. Why are you so obsessed with this girl?” Deep furrows lined vertically between his eyebrows.

  “She’s special. She’s…” I didn’t want to say it. I knew what his reaction would be.

  Silence fell between us.

  “Just tell me.”

  “She’s Heather,” I whispered, barely audible. Troy didn’t say anything. He just stared at me, almost like he was seeing through my eyes, into the depths of my brain, trying to process what was flowing through my mind.

  “Are you chasing the dragon again?”

  “Hell, no! You know I don’t do that shit anymore.” My heroin use was the last thing I expected to hear him throw in my face. He knew that was a life I’d left behind and never wanted to revisit again. “I can’t believe you actually think I would ever touch that smack again after everything I’ve been through to stay clean.” He was my biggest supporter besides Gramma Z, so to hear him doubt my resistance was a bit hurtful.

  Troy raised his hands with his palms facing me in a surrendering stance. “I’m sorry man. It’s just… do you hear yourself? Do you know how crazy that sounds? It sounds just like those bizarre hallucinations you used to have when you were on one of your drug binges. It just drags up old memories, that’s all,” he shrugged.

  “I know it sounds crazy, and I’ve even questioned my sanity repeatedly, but, I swear man, she’s Heather, just in a different body. Everything about her is just like Heather. The way she smiles, the flirtatious looks she gives me, the way she acts timid, but deep down I know she has the instinct of a wild animal. She even bounces on the balls of her feet like Heather used to do when she got excited. I knew it the moment I met her. Her reaction to me that first night, it was inevitable. The way she responded to me—my voice, my scent, my touch…”

  Everything about that night came rushing back to me. I’d wanted her so bad that night. Refusing her was one of the smartest decisions I’d ever had to make, but one of the hardest too.

  “Hell, she seduced me within a few hours of getting to know me. Don’t you get it? She’s my second chance to make things right. I won’t corrupt her like I did Heather.” I felt water forming in the corners of my eyes. “I won’t take her life away from her before she has a chance to fully live it.” My voice trembled as I fought the guilt building in my stomach, clawing its way up my throat.

  Troy started drumming his fingers on the cool surface of the bar; a nervous habit of his when he didn’t know how to handle a situation… or me, for that matter. “Jax, please stop with the throat grunts,” he smiled.

  Good distraction, Troy.

  Swallowing hard, I forced the old guilt back into its hidey-hole. “I will as soon as you stop banging your fingertips on the bar,” I joked, pretending to be in a playful mood.

  My nervous habit annoyed him as much as his did me. Our very first fist fight was over him teasing me about my tics. After we had made up, we’d became instant best friends. We eventually got used to each other’s annoying habits and only noticed them now, during moments like this, when we were all pissed off at each other.

  Troy stopped his rhythm in mid-beat. “I can’t let you do this. I know what you think, I understand that, but, dude… it’s not her.” He popped up off his stool to reach around the counter for his hidden stash of mixed nuts. “There is no such a thing as reincarnation. You’re gramma taught you better than that.” He popped a handful of nuts into his mouth. “I know I’m the last guy to be preaching to you, but you’ve got to be realistic here. It just doesn’t happen.” He loudly crunched on the nuts he had just tossed into his mouth, not bothering to close his mouth as he chewed. “Please, just move on. Stay away from her. Nothing good can come from this. You’ve tortured yourself for so long anyway. There is no point in going backwards. You can’t undo the past.”

  I scrubbed my fingers along my scalp in frustration. “I can prove it.”

  Troy cocked his eyebrow with interest.

  “She’s supposed to be coming out here during her spring break, and I know without a doubt that, once you meet her, you will be convinced. I’ll even bet you on it. I’ll bet you the title on this bar and the one I’m building in North Carolina,” I challenged him, holding my hand out ready to shake on it.

  Troy shook his head in disbelief. “Damn, you’re a confident motherfucker. With assurance as pure as that, I guess I have no choice,” he grinned
. We gripped hands tight, giving a couple of hard shakes before releasing.

  Troy pushed his stool back against the counter then placed his mixed nuts back into his hiding spot before heading into the office. He stopped in the doorway, whistling to get my attention. “Yo, Jax, you better hope this girl gets back to you soon or your bet will be lost forever.” He closed the office door behind him. Asshole.

  I had to get in touch with Reed or Kendra to learn more of what was going on. I had to know where things stood with us. Courtney had thrown all the signs out to me that she was interested, even if she said she wasn’t. She wouldn’t be so enthusiastic to visit if she hadn’t wanted to see me again, right?

  Fuck! I was tired of guessing. What if Troy was right? Was I being irrational? Had I finally lost my fucking mind? God! Times like this, I missed Gramma the most. She would know what to do.

  The light bulb clicked in my head. The only choice I had was to let the stars align wherever they may. If she called or texted back, then I would know she carried the same feelings that I did. If I didn’t hear back from her, then, well, I had no other choice but to cut all ties and leave her alone.

  Could I really do that though?

  Chapter 22 ~ Surrender

  Who knew so many traumatic events could take place in a two week span.

  Phillip was finally able to come home from the hospital after having to stay two extra days due to a minor infection in his leg. Kendra’s father had to cut his business trip short after taking an unexpected visit to the ER, only to find out he had severe appendicitis and had to undergo emergency surgery. This resulted in Kendra being a little M.I.A. lately, tending to his needs.

  But, with all the unfortunate events that had occurred since the accident, I think the worst was my mom losing her job. After dedicating the last fifteen years of her life, she was wrongly accused of stealing a few valuable items from one of her patients. This left her so grief-stricken that she wouldn’t leave the house from embarrassment. I tried to persuade her in every possible way that I could that nobody believed it, but she had it in her head that everyone thought she was a thief. I knew my mother would never steal from anyone. She had no reason to. We never possessed the finer things in life, but we never exactly needed them either, nor would we ever steal to have them.