Falling Deeper (Falling Series)

by Lucia Grace

  Paxton pulls the ambulance up to the curb, parallel to the beach in front of Sophie’s, and we both jump out and slam our doors in unison. I jog to the back of the ambulance and pull open the double doors to retrieve the medical bag as Paxton makes his way through the crowd, creating a clearing for me to follow.

  As both Paxton and I make it through the crowd, I catch sight of Damon’s back, his right hand plastered to his holstered gun, while his left hand is raised in a placating gesture. As Damon hears our approach he shifts slightly, and that’s when I see the perpetrator.

  He’s shouting profanities and threatening Damon, along with the crowd. He’s filthy, wearing tattered, dirty clothes. He has long, greasy, matted hair. Most of his teeth are rotting out of his mouth. He’s a fucking mess.

  When he sees us approach his eyes widen even further, and he throws his hands up to cover his ears as he begins rocking back and forth against the building. He’s muttering and chanting over the chatter of the crowd while Damon, Paxton, and I look on. The three of us are at a loss, entranced by his chanting and rocking.

  Damon snaps out of it first and turns to Paxton and me while keeping his eyes on this guy losing his mind. “Got a call into the station from Sophie. She was getting complaints about this drifter hanging around outside all day. She let him be until he started storming toward patrons, shouting at passersby, and hitting and scratching himself. She was afraid for people’s safety, including his, so she called it in.”

  “I’d say that was a good call and it’s safe to say he needs an emergency transport to Mercy General. Once you get him cuffed we can load him up and restrain him further. Then get him in to be evaluated.”

  I look over at the man again as his chanting gets louder. Paxton is still looking on, waiting for direction, as Damon starts making his way closer to the drifter. Trying to calm him down.

  “Sir, can you hear me? If you can, we need you to calm down.” His voice is stern yet understanding. “I’m coming closer so we can help you.”

  The homeless man freezes then screams at the top of his lungs, and Damon reaches for his gun again.

  “Sir, again, we need you to calm down.” Damon is in full take-no-shit cop mode. His attempt to calm the man down isn’t working, and I can see and feel the strain and tension rolling off of his body as he decides his next move. He wants this fucker off the street and getting help. Keeping Pleasant Beach and this guy safe.

  As soon as Damon gets within a couple of feet, hand still glued to his holstered gun, the guy pushes off the wall and reaches into the front pocket of his hoody all at once. Paxton and I freeze as Damon unholsters his gun quicker than lightning and raises it to take aim.

  “Listen, I don’t want to have to use this. But I will if you don’t raise your hands above your head where I can see them.” I can tell by his tone that now his top priority is to keep us and this community safe. I know he feels for this guy, who’s filthy, haggard, and clearly homeless, but his erratic behavior needs to be stopped. And quickly. Or this shit could get out of hand.

  The homeless guy seems to understand and raises his arms, but he’s not empty-handed. He shakes out his right hand and flips open a switchblade.

  “Oh fuck,” is muttered to my left from Paxton, as I start circling this fucker to my right. I move out of instinct. Getting an angle on him.

  Damon is shifting to his left as he radios in for backup. Clearly he thought this would be simpler than it is.

  I’m now positioned to this guy’s left side between him and the outside wall of Sophie’s. Damon is in front of him, angled to his right. While Paxton remains between the crowd and us.

  Damon is still shouting commands to this delusional fucker. But he just stands there chanting over the commands, arms raised, with knife in hand. When Damon instructs him to drop the knife for the fourth time then to put his hands behind his head, he looks like he’s going to comply. But then quicker than I’d expect for a man in his condition, he goes to lunge for Damon with his switchblade raised to strike.

  Without even thinking I grab the lunatic from behind and wrap him up in a bear hug, restraining his arms to his sides.

  He starts to thrash and scream wildly. Praying to Lucifer to set him free. As I’m struggling to keep my grip all I keep thinking is that this fucker is totally fucking insane. It’s sad really, but my sympathy left the second he attempted to attack Damon. As I get ahold of the fucker, Damon rushes forward and begins to apprehend the still screaming, delusional man as he pulls out his handcuffs from his belt.

  Before I can transfer the guy into Damon’s hold and spin him around so he can be cuffed, I feel a biting pain, literally, in my left arm. The fucker actually bit me.

  “You motherfucker!” I roar, and without even thinking release my right arm to clasp my left, which allows this guy to get loose enough so he’s no longer restrained.

  Damon is able to slap one cuff on the guy before he begins swinging his arms wildly. But his right hand that’s still holding the switchblade is loose.

  Just as Damon’s backup bursts through the crowd, I feel a searing pain slice through my left side. I stagger back a step then bring my right hand to my side as I hear Damon shout and he and two other officers tackle the man to the ground.

  I look up to see Paxton walking toward me. His eyes wide and slightly panicked.

  That’s when I feel it. A deep burn starts to settle and pain prickles my skin. When I lift my hand from my side I see it’s stained a deep red.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  EMBER

  Tracey is humming as she draws. I look over at her as she finishes up the last sketch for The Little Prince.

  After I received the settlement money from the estate of Mr. Boyles, which was part of the lawsuit brought on by the school department, I knew that now was the time to follow another dream of mine. And that is when The Little Prince was born; the children’s book I’ve been writing.

  When I decided to seriously follow through with the idea, I asked Tracey, a couple of weeks after Kayson and I made up, if she would be willing to illustrate my story, since her sketches are so breathtaking. She agreed and I couldn’t be happier. Not only because she is the best artist I’ve ever seen, but because I get to work with one of my best friends, too.

  Not many know of her hidden talent. I’ve tried to tell her numerous times to share her art, her passion, but she refuses. She doesn’t want the attention, which is something I can understand, so I just let it go. I’m just happy that she agreed to share her talent with me. She’s bringing my words to life with each drawing and it’s so overwhelming.

  When I made the decision a few weeks ago to follow my dreams and publish my first children’s book, I didn’t think that it would happen so quickly. But after finishing up and sending the manuscript off to a couple of publishers, one decided to take a chance on me.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  But Kayson did.

  He told me from the beginning one of the publishing companies would fall in love with me. Just like he did.

  My damn heart fluttered and melted and swooned.

  We were in our couple’s therapy session when the counselor asked how my panic attacks were, and if I thought more about going back to teaching. Although it was my passion, just the thought of walking back into Pleasant Beach Elementary had me drowning in fear.

  When I told her that I wouldn’t be able to heal completely and recover from the panic attacks if I did, she asked me if I had any other passions.

  Kayson was surprised to learn that I’d been working on this children’s book for the last couple of months or so. And thinking about it for even longer. He was even more surprised when I told him that I had already submitted the manuscript to a few publishers.

  “You’ll be amazing, baby,” is what he told me. I beamed a smile at him.

  After Kayson took me to one of his meetings and then I had another panic attack, the most severe one yet, Kayson and Momma convinced me to start seeing someon
e. I’ve been attending counseling sessions for the past few weeks, and I already feel lighter.

  Kayson agreed to attend a couple of sessions with me, which was encouraged by the counselor, to help both of us heal. We’ve only been a couple of times, but I honestly believe it’s one of the best things we’ve done for ourselves. Things have been going so well. We’re reconnecting and relearning. Talking through our hurts and regrets. Finding out who we are as adults. Falling in love all over again.

  I’m brought out of my thoughts as my cell phone vibrates along the tabletop, but I ignore it. I know it can’t be Kayson since I just spoke with him, and if it’s anyone else they can wait until Tracey and I are done.

  When it starts vibrating again, for the third time, immediately after stopping each time, I check the screen and see it’s Damon calling. Curious as to why he’d be calling, back to back no less, I answer right before it cuts to my voicemail. “Hello?”

  Tracey keeps working as I answer.

  “Thank fuck.” Damon sounds exasperated and worried as he releases a breath that sounds like he’s been holding since the first phone call.

  “Damon? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” I see Tracey flinch and then look over to me when I say Damon’s name. Her brown eyes slightly rounder as she looks at me with worry.

  “I don’t have long to talk. I have to get to the station. But I wanted to let you know that there’s been an accident involving Kayson.”

  “What?” I shout. Not hearing anything else after Kayson’s name. “What are you talking about? What happened?”

  “Ember, I don’t have time to talk. Just get to Mercy General. He’s on his way there.” Before I can ask anything else the line goes dead.

  My hand goes slack and my cell phone clatters to the floor at the mention of the hospital. Unadulterated fear for Kayson crashes into me as visions of him being hurt filter through flashbacks of the shooting. Clashing together and making my nightmares a reality.

  My chest heaves, but I can’t pull in any air. I faintly hear Tracey in the background trying to get my attention, but it’s like I’m in a tunnel. The blood pulsing through my veins and the buzzing filling my ears drowns her words out.

  “Em, take some deep breaths. Look at me and follow my lead.” Tracey’s hands on my face draw my attention back to her, and I follow the deep intakes and exhales of her breaths until the buzzing sound is gone.

  “That’s it. Now tell me what happened.” Her eyes soften along with her tone, from urgency to worry. I can also see the relief pass through her eyes since she knows Damon is okay.

  “I do-don’t know. Damon just said Kase was on his way to Mercy General. He didn’t say anything else. He just hu-hung up.” I’m trembling with fear and anxiety. A panic attack back on the rise from my near plummet just seconds ago, when Tracey pulled me out.

  “Ember.” Tracey snaps her fingers in front of my face. She’s still kneeling in front of me. “Focus. Kayson. Mercy General. Let’s go. I’ll drive you.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  KAYSON

  I wince slightly as the nurse applies the last stitch then antibacterial ointment before bandaging up the area.

  I wouldn’t even let them numb the stab wound before they treated it. Being a recovering addict I’m cautious of everything I put on or into my body. Whether it be a local anesthetic or pain medication, which I won’t be taking.

  The nurses just looked at me like I was nuts when I informed them of that little tidbit, but they don’t know my history so I glared at them until they gave in and let me be. I’m pretty sure they didn’t want to piss me off even more since I threatened to walk out.

  I’m already pissed enough as it is for being forced into getting a tetanus shot. I tried to talk the nurses out of giving that to me, too, but they wouldn’t budge. They reminded me that the rusted switchblade that fucker knifed me with could be riddled with bacteria. So I conceded.

  But the pills. No fucking way. Being clean for two years or two days doesn’t matter. Prescribed or not. I’m not putting that shit into my body.

  I didn’t even want to come into the hospital, so all this interrogation and forced bullshit just pisses me off even more. I just wanted Paxton to stitch me up himself. But Damon put an end to that really fucking quick. Lecturing me on procedures and shit that have to be followed. I rolled my eyes at him and had Paxton drive me to the hospital.

  I’m brought back to the present when a biting pain sets in as Nurse Barbara wipes the excess ointment from around the bandage. She gives me a small smile as she removes her gloves.

  I’ll just have to suck it up and live with the discomfort for a few days while the wound is still fresh. It’s nothing really, when I think about the shit I’ve put myself through in the past. A little pain is nothing compared to what could have happened today anyway. So I’m thankful to be reminded by the pain that I’m still alive. That crazy motherfucker could have caused a lot more damage if we didn’t get him restrained. And if he stabbed me just an inch lower into my kidney.

  “You’re all set, hon. Let me get your discharge papers and you can get on your way,” Nurse Barbara speaks up. Pulling me from my thoughts yet again.

  I give her a nod right before she leaves the room and ignore the pain that hits my side when I shift on the too-small hospital bed.

  When I get settled I hear a choked back sob to my right and turn my head to see Ember standing stock-still in the doorway of the exam room. A trembling hand covering her mouth.

  I shouldn’t be surprised to see her here, but I am. Damon must have called her, and knowing she came right over warms the cold heart in my fucking chest.

  “Baby…” My rasped endearment snaps her out of her shock and has her moving across the tiled floor as fast as her feet will carry her.

  She starts rambling from her first step. “Kayson… Oh God. Damon called me and told me there was an accident. But he couldn’t talk long enough to explain what happened. So I got in my car and got here as soon as I could. Then the front desk tried to keep me from coming back here, but I told them nothing was keeping me from you so they better let me back or I’d be raining hell on them. When they saw how serious I was they decided to let me come back, so I wouldn’t make more of a scene. Plus Nurse Tinsley recognized me from when I was here. She told me you were stable as she walked me back here. But I was terrified anyway. Oh my God, are-are you okay?” She finally takes a breath and it hitches over her question.

  I’m holding back my amusement at her rambling, but it quickly evaporates as I see a tear drop from her long black lashes. “Baby, I’m okay. Shh I’m okay, baby.” As soon as I speak the dam breaks and her tears start falling.

  She’s full out crying now as I bring my right arm up to pull her into my uninjured side. Her cool, wet tears hit my warm bare chest when she leans into me. I place my hand behind her head and run it over her long hair and down her back. Trying to soothe her.

  “I was terrified,” she mumbles out between her tears and my chest.

  “I know. I’m sorry. But I’m okay. I promise,” I hush out against the top of her head. My hand still rubbing down her back.

  She shifts slightly and I loosen my hold so she can lift her head. Her body is still leaned into my side, but now she’s looking right into my eyes. The deep pools of chocolate brown are bloodshot and swimming in tears.

  But I still get lost in them.

  “When Damon didn’t tell me anything else all I could think was the worst. But I prayed you were okay because I can’t lose you. Not now after I just got you back. I need you, Kayson. After all of these years without you, none of it matters anymore because I need you. I’ve always needed you.” She ends on a sob and leans her head back into me again as she wraps her arms around my neck.

  I hold her as she cries. Getting caught up in the feel of her beautiful body against mine. Getting lost in my thoughts. Thinking about my conversation with Cassandra and mulling over all I had planned for next week.

  But I
can’t wait anymore.

  Not after today.

  Not when our time together could have been cut short yet again.

  “I can’t wait anymore, Ember.” She looks up at me, confused, when I use her name. Her wide eyes peering up at me.

  Her nerves are palpable.

  She’s trembling.

  “I was going to wait, but after today, I can’t wait any longer.”

  “Wha-what, ummm,” she stutters then stops to clear her throat before continuing. “What do you mean? You can’t wait for what?”

  Her chin is quivering, causing her full bottom lip to tremble. Her beautiful body is motionless. Fear and unease shine through her expressive eyes. Eyes that have always given her away, eyes I’ve always been able to read. Eyes I’ve always loved to get lost in.

  Her eyes widen in shock as I shift on the hospital bed. She catches sight of my bandaged left side, left visible from my bare torso, and goes to comment but I cut her off when I drop my booted feet to the tiled floor.

  “Kayson, what are you doing? You’re going to hurt yourself,” she finally speaks up as she brings a tender hand just out of reach of my side.

  I look at her beautiful face that’s even with mine when she lifts her eyes back to me. She’s so tiny that even with me sitting we’re not quite at eye level.

  I can’t help but chuckle at her worry for me as I grasp her hips and tug her gently between my legs. Nuzzling into her neck, I’m mindful of my stitched wound as I inhale her sweet scent then lay a kiss where her neck and shoulder meet, before pulling away to look into her eyes again.

  “I can’t wait any longer to do this.”

  EMBER

  I can’t wait any longer to do this.

  What does he mean by that?

  “What do you mean?” I ask again because he didn’t answer me. Again. Not really anyway.

  He keeps looking at me. His eyes scan my face. Taking in every feature. As if he’s cataloging them to store to memory. They settle on my eyes and he looks right at me.