by kj lewis
“Thank you,” Graham says to them before wrapping his arm around my waist.
“Lean down,” he shouts over the sound of the spinning blades before leading me to the helicopter. Smith must have been waiting for us, he opens the door and we all climb in.
Less than fifteen minutes later, we’re inside our apartment.
“I need to see Pearl.”
“Not now. Terrance said she has people with her. I have her being protected.”
I watch him with a blank expression.
“Shower then bed,” Graham says, crouching down to remove my heels. Leaving them where we are standing, he guides me to our bathroom, where he begins to remove the belt on my waist. It’s only now that I see myself in the mirror and the amount of blood on me. I’m covered in it.
“We’ll get it off,” Graham says gently when he spots me staring at my hands. This is the first I have noticed them. They’re maroon from Reggie’s blood that pooled over when I was applying pressure to his wounds.
The dress pulls my arms up when Graham lifts it over my head. It was a beautiful dress, I think strangely while Graham slides my bra and panties off. He turns the shower on before quickly undressing and helping me in. My torso is stained where the blood seeped through the material. Graham stands me under the streams of water and begins to rinse me until the water running off me is no longer red, but a light clear pink. It takes several rounds of soap and scrubbing, but the stains are finally gone, washed down the drain. Graham kisses the tears off each off my cheeks before turning me around and washing my hair. He doesn’t spend a lot of time holding me and comforting me. He hastily moves me out of the shower and dries me off before sliding his t-shirt over my head.
We climb into our bed and he pulls me into his arms.
“Emelia.” His voice is filled with emotion and apprehension. “Terrance was killed about an hour ago. He went to get revenge for Reggie and was gunned down.”
He sits me up and pushes my head between my knees when I start to hyperventilate. Once the sobs all leave my body, he lays me back, resting his head against mine, his own tears mixing with mine.
“Graham,” I say in between the shudders of catching my breath and stopping my tears. “I need—”
“I know what you need, baby.” He turns me on my side, cocooning me into him. His body surrounds mine so that nothing can reach me.
Staring at the ceiling of our bedroom, I wonder if the world doesn’t understand. It took a while for me to fall asleep, and when I woke later this morning, Graham was already up. Hitting the button on the nightstand, I raise the shades and slide the doors open. It’s sunny and beautiful outside, despite the fact it’s a cool morning. I can hear the city moving around. I want to go on the terrace and scream over the sides for everyone to stop moving. Stop going on like everything is normal. Don’t they know two amazing people left our world yesterday? It’s how I felt when Addie had her accident and I knew she would never return. I imagine it’s how most people feel when they lose someone they love.
Sliding my feet off the edge of the bed, I sit for a minute and contemplate what I need to do. Forgoing a shower, I throw on Graham’s jeans that I have taken as my own before pulling on my grandpa’s cardigan over Graham’s t-shirt I wore to bed, tucking the front of it in the jeans. That is the most effort I will be making today. Stopping midway out of the closet, I slide on one of the Cartier love bracelets he gave me. My hand automatically goes to my neck where my fingers are reassured that my ruby heart is where it should be. All comfort pieces that I need today.
While brushing my teeth, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realize a little more effort is needed. I tie a silk scarf into a turban, with my hair hanging out long and straight under it. I grab a dark pair of Jackie-O glasses and head to the kitchen for a Diet Coke before leaving.
Vinnie is here and her large bosomed embrace is almost enough for me to lose what little strength I have.
“I made you waffles,” she says, and I know it’s her way of offering me comfort.
“Thank you Vinnie, but I’m not hungry.”
“You’ll eat,” Graham instructs from behind me.
“I don’t—”
“You’ll eat.” He is not swayed by my protests. He wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my temple. His touch is enough to start the tears pooling in my eyes, but with the exception of one or two errant tears, I’m able to control them before they fall. Instinctively, my arms rest on top of his. Ben and Ruth are behind him, and we all take a seat at the table. I wish I had my sunglasses on already. I just want to be inside my own head where I don’t have to look like I’m okay to anyone. I manage about a fourth of my waffle.
“Will you have George let Cassie know that I won’t be in today or tomorrow, please?”
“Already done,” he says passing the syrup to his dad. “I told her she can reach you here if she needs you.”
“I don’t want to be reached, and I won’t be here today.” I stop mid-bite, feeling queasy.
“Where do you think you’ll be?” He raises a challenging eyebrow to me that normally would be enough to have me ready to argue, but my stomach is not agreeing with what little waffle I ate. I make it to the trashcan just in time to throw up the small amount of food in my stomach, but mostly liquid. Ruth is behind me and runs her hand down my hair. She hands me a wet paper towel when I finally stand back up, but never says a word. She just gives me a nod and a pat to my cheek before we make our way back to the table. I push my plate away and Graham pushes it back.
“You’ll eat,” he says, daring me to challenge him. I give him a defiant look, but by taking small bites, I do as I’m told.
“You’ll be here today.”
“No, I won’t be.” My eyes meet his in opposition. “I’m going to the hospital to see Teague. Then I’m going to pay my respects to Pearl. Then I’m going to Pemberton Place where I will be spending a couple of days. I’ll handle the funeral arrangements from there.”
“Emelia, there—”
“Getting out of the city might be just what you need,” Ben interrupts Graham, giving his son a knowing glance. Graham exhales a deep breath and appears to try a new approach. He doesn’t like having to explain himself. He’s use to his word being the last one.
Trying to reign in his frustration at the very idea, he lands on, “You can’t go to Pearl’s. I’m sorry, baby. I really am. I wish you could, but you heard Teddy last night. It’s not safe.”
“Then find a way to make it safe. I don’t care if you have to surround me with twenty armed men and drive me there in a tank. I’m going to Pearl’s.” I stand and clear my plate from the table. As of now, the rest of my waffle is staying in place.
“Emelia, I have to be in the city today for a deal that people’s jobs depend on.”
“And that is where you should be. It’s where I want you to be, but I am going to Pemberton Place.” Smith walks into the room. “I’ll be driving myself to the Hampton’s after lunch.”
“Ma’am?” Smith asks confused, looking at Graham for guidance.
“Emelia,” he growls.
“If Myles wants to drive behind me, he can, but I’m driving by myself.” Walking back over to Graham, I place my hands on his shoulders. “I need time alone,” I tell him gently hoping he’ll see it my way.
“You have to let her have what she needs, son. You can’t protect her from her grief. You have to let her work through it and just be there for her. It’s one of the hardest parts about loving someone,” Ruth says.
“Smith, Emelia wants to go to Pearl’s. Is that feasible?” Graham rubs his forehead, like he can’t believe he’s asking the question.
“I can make it happen, but I need an hour.”
“You have two. I’m going to see Teague first.” I place a light kiss to Graham’s temple.
Giving Ruth a grateful smile, I leave to brush my teeth again, thankful the remainder of the waffle is staying put.
I hear Smith ta
lking as I exit our bedroom. “I already had four men on her detail today. I’ll have four more for the trip to Pearl’s. She’s as safe at Pemberton Place as she is here, so the original four men should be adequate.”
“You make sure they understand that I want a tight circle. No latitude.” Graham looks up at me when Ben clears his throat indicating I’m back in the room.
“Emelia, I’m not pleased with this arrangement at all.” He’s angry, but I know it’s more from a place of helplessness than anything else.
“I understand.” I hear him, but it doesn’t change my decisions. If it makes him feel better to say it out loud, then who am I to deny him?
Myles and three new men enter the apartment.
“Emme,” Smith explains. “This will be your detail until Teague returns.” He tells me their names. Three of them are fit and slender in build. You wouldn’t think bodyguard when you see them, but the fourth is larger than most NFL linebackers.
“You fellas know what you’re getting into right? The people around me were shot and killed last night.”
Graham grabs my hand, his eyes probing trying to understand.
“Yes ma’am,” the big guy says.
“And you still want this gig?”
“I wish someone would try something today.” He’s not deterred in the least.
I wrap my hands around Graham’s neck running my thumbs over his cheeks. The way he does to me so often. Pulling him down to me, I gingerly kiss his lips before whispering, “Thank you. I love you.”
He nods and I know it is taking every bit of him to let me leave this apartment today.
“Let’s go, Biggie Smalls.” I motion to the big guy.
He nods and gestures for me to enter the elevator first. “You know I love it when you call me Big Poppa.” Immediately I know I am going to like him.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about Boss,” he nods to Graham before the elevator doors close. Oddly, I do feel safer with them around me. I didn’t think it would be that difficult, but being on the street level is a little unnerving.
I’m flanked by three of them as I exit the car and enter the hospital. Teague’s still in ICU and it will be another day or so before he goes to a step down. If all goes well, he should be home in a week.
“Hi.” I give him my best smile when I enter his room.
“Hi.” His voice is still scratchy, but his color has made its appearance again and he looks better than I anticipated. “How are you?” he asks.
“I think I’m the one that should be asking you that question.”
“Are you kidding? I got a sponge bath from a pretty nurse today.” He attempts a smile, but I can tell he’s putting on a show for me.
“I asked for an ugly one tomorrow,” Joy quips, albeit with difficulty.
“Talk to Matt and see if you can talk him into getting me out of here sooner.”
I look at the machines surrounding him to see if they will give me a clue to how he’s really feeling. “Nope. Sorry. Matt’s in charge.”
“That is the first and only time I will ever hear those words leave her mouth,” Matt says entering the room. “It only took Teague getting shot for it to happen.” He attempts to make light of the situation, and Teague doesn’t seem to mind, but I can tell Joy isn’t quite there yet.
“Hey, babe.” Matt wraps his arms around me. “How’s my girl?”
“I think you need to be worried about your patient.”
“Teague?” he asks, releasing me and walking to him. “Teague is the toughest guy I know. He’s going to be fine. This is just another battle wound to show off proudly,” Matt says while reviewing his monitors and listening to his breath sounds.
“It’s not his external wound I’m worried about,” I say, gently placing my hand on his ankle.
“Back at ya kiddo,” Teague says to me.
Matt goes over his recovery expectations for the next couple of days, what we should expect and when we will know Teague is one hundred percent in the clear.
“Step outside with me?” Matt asks, and I follow him out. “Seriously how are you?” he asks once we’re clear of the door.
“Numb with pieces of feeling mixed in when I least expect it.”
“Are you going to talk to your counselor today?”
“Not today. I’m going to Pearl’s then the beach house. I’ll be back tomorrow night or the day after.”
“Becca said she can take a couple of days leave if you need her. I would, but I want to be here to look after Teague.”
“And that’s where I need you to be. I couldn’t take time away if I didn’t have you here. You’re the only one I would trust with Teague.”
“I want you to make an appointment to see your counselor when you are back. Understand? It’s a lot to go through. I have someone coming to talk to Teague.”
“He’ll love that,” I respond with a sarcastic eye roll.
“Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t get discharged without it. Seriously, Emme. You’ve been through a trauma and you haven’t begun to process it.”
“I promise when I get back, I’ll go talk to the counselor.” My promise appears to conciliate him and he pulls me to him with one hand around my back and the other resting against my neck.
“When I heard your voice over the call last night.” He takes a minute to gather himself. “It was all I could do to hold it together, and I handle traumas. If I had lost you…”
“I know.” I hold him tighter knowing he needs comfort as much as I do.
“I love you,” he says placing a light kiss on my lips out of reverence and not romance.
“Really?” Graham’s arm snakes around me, pulling me back.
“Sorry, man. I was just letting her know that I was thankful she was still here.” He smiles, knowing riling Graham is like shooting fish in a barrel.
“Well do it somewhere where there aren’t people standing around with camera phones. I don’t want to have to explain it to everyone. I expect this from Drew, not you.”
“You could kiss Becca.” I say lightheartedly.
“Ya man, I can totally make that happen.” Matt winks at me before shaking Graham’s hand.
“I’ll leave you with your wife.” He turns to me. “Seriously, James. I never want to get a call like that again.” Graham nods his agreement as Matt heads back into Teague’s room.
“What are you doing here?” I ask sliding my arms inside his jacket and around his waist. One of my favorite places to be.
“I have an hour before my meeting and I came to check on Teague. Thank him for saving my wife’s life.” His eyes are dark and still not happy.
“Matt’s never kissed me before. It wasn’t anything. Like kissing a brother-in-law. Like when I kiss Adam.”
“Just stop. Stop talking,” he says. “I don’t like any of this.”
“Yep, it sucks.” I respond, because it’s true. If I thought he was irritated with the kiss, I could make that right, but he’s not. I know my husband. He’s irritated because I’m not locked in our apartment where he has control over my safety. He’s irritated because he was terrified when he heard of the shooting, as I would have been if the tables were turned. He’s irritated because I’m hurting and there’s nothing he can do to change it. And whether he realizes it or not, he’s grieving too. He was fond of Reggie, and I think had a mutual respect with Terrance. He had no control over what happened to either of them and that is why he is irritated. It dawns on me that I’ve comforted Teague and Matt but not my own husband.
Grabbing his hand, I pull him through the ICU to an empty room. He watches me before I close the door and walk over to him, looping my fingers in his belt loops.
“I’m sorry.” My lip quivers slightly, but I release a quick breath and gain control.
“No. I’m sorry, baby. I know Matt wasn’t trying anything.”
“That’s not why I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I haven’t been here for you and that I am leaving. I just…”
An
d the control I gained just a minute ago breaks as the tears flow gently but uncontrollably. Casting my eyes downward, I try to explain. “I just don’t have anything to give. I need time away from here, and I need the ringing in my ears to stop. I need to be where I feel like I can walk without replaying the scene over and over and stop seeing the blood. I can’t make it stop. I’m sorry that I made the decision to leave without you. I’m sorry that I can’t be here to give you the comfort you need. I love you more than I love myself, Graham, but I just can’t make this right.”
“Emelia.” Graham lifts my chin so I have to look at him. “I know we are new to this, but I’ve watched my parents enough to know that marriage is not always an equal part of give and take. There are going to be times when one of us is going to need more than the other. Last night when Myles called Smith, my world collapsed. All I could think was that I needed to get to you. Make sure you were okay. The very thought of losing you was like having my heart ripped out of my body. As long as you had a heartbeat, I knew we could figure out the rest. We will figure out the rest. Together.” His thumbs swipe the tears from my face before his lips cover mine in a claiming kiss that holds all the fear and lack of control he’s been feeling.
“Emelia,” he says between kisses that have turned hard and brusque. “I need—”
“I know what you need.” I pull him to the wall behind the door where we can’t be seen, my fingers working his pants, dropping them around his ankles before I remove my jeans. This isn’t fucking because we can’t keep our hands off each other. It’s a driven need. It’s how we know we’re going to be okay. It’s how we comfort each other. It’s how we make it. I wrap my legs around Graham as he pounds into me, lost in the need to gain some kind of control. His thumb brushes my clit before covering my mouth to keep me from outing us as my orgasm ripples around him, sending him off into his own.
“I love you,” I tell him. My hands are still fisted in his hair, pulling his forehead to rest against mine as our breathing comes back down. He lowers me to the ground, making sure I have my balance before releasing me. I grab a couple of paper towels to clean us both before sliding back into my jeans. Once he’s all put back together, Graham pulls me into one last deep kiss. This one slower. More controlled. More my husband. I can leave for a couple of days knowing he has his footing.
