Misty

by Allison Hobbs

  “Yeah, it’s time for me to let go of the past and all the hurt that I experienced as a child. That was the hand I was dealt, and—”

  “And now you’ve replaced those cards with a different hand,” Anya interjected wisely. “In this moment and from now on, no more regret. We’re living in the moment.”

  “You’re right, and I’m gonna make it my business to enjoy every moment I spend with you,” Brick said cheerfully, although he had a vague feeling that the harmony they were experiencing was only the quiet before the storm.

  A car rolled into the garage and Brick protectively pulled Anya close as the car whizzed past. Suddenly, tires squealed as the car came to an abrupt halt, and then began speedily backing up, causing Brick and Anya to have to jump out of the way.

  “What the fuck!” Brick exploded. The window to the passenger’s side rolled down and Brick was stunned to see Misty. Her nurse, Audrey, was driving.

  “Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here, Brick,” Misty said sarcastically as she got out of the car.

  Anya recognized her immediately as the woman she’d seen in the hotel elevator. And then with a sinking heart, she realized why she’d seemed so familiar. This gorgeous woman was Misty. She was Brick’s childhood sweetheart and the love of his life. Anya had sat in Misty’s hospital room, checking on her on Brick’s behalf while she was still in a coma. She’d also seen pictures of what Misty had looked like before she was beaten and disfigured. A surgeon’s diligent work had restored her looks, but her carefully crafted features were now distorted by rage.

  “Who’s this bitch?” Misty scowled at Anya.

  “You’re the fuckin’ bitch,” Anya barked, stepping toward Misty.

  “No, baby. Don’t get into it with her.” Brick grabbed Anya by the arm, holding her back.

  “I must be hearing things? You’ve been treating me like a pariah, but you call this average-looking slut baby!”

  “You got a lot of mouth, bitch!” Infuriated, Anya tried to yank away from Brick, but he held her firmly. “Let’s walk away. Come on, think about the future we’re planning together, and you’ll realize it’s not worth it,” Brick said sensibly.

  With his arm around Anya, Brick turned her around and guided her away from Misty who was fuming mad and cursing up a storm. Enraged, Misty ran behind the couple and sucker-punched Anya in the back of her head. The blow from Misty’s small fist was more annoying than painful, but it was degrading.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you, Misty?” Brick shouted.

  Going around Brick, Anya quickly retaliated, drawing her hand back and landing a punch in Misty’s face, knocking her on her ass.

  “Oh, my God. Are you all right, Misty?” Audrey screamed and leapt out of the car. But instead of running to Misty’s aid, she attacked Anya with a sharp object, stabbing her with amazing speed, puncturing her neck, her side, and then plunging what turned out to be a long screwdriver in the center of Anya’s chest.

  Brick ripped Audrey away from Anya and tossed her in the air. Her body hit the hood of her car with a loud thud. But he hadn’t acted swiftly enough. The damage to Anya had already been done. Anya lay gasping and bleeding profusely as her life appeared to be slipping away.

  Brick dropped down to the ground, trying to staunch the blood from the deep wound in her neck with a bandana he wore on the job that had been stuffed in his back pocket. The screwdriver, covered in blood, rolled ominously across the concrete and under Audrey’s car.

  “I’m gonna get you help, baby. Stay with me,” he pleaded to Anya as he called 9-1-1. “I need help. My girl got stabbed in her neck, her chest—all over. I don’t think she’s gonna make it. Send an ambulance. Please. Hurry!”

  “Where are you, sir?” asked the dispatcher.

  “Inside the garage at the Omni Hotel on Chestnut Street. Hurry up and get here before she stops breathing,” Brick yelled and hung up.

  Sitting on the ground and cradling Anya, Brick gave a sharp intake of breath when he noticed Anya’s eyes roll into the back of her head. “Anya! Come on, baby, stay with me. Please, baby, please.”

  “Why’re you crying over her, when you can have me?” Misty asked. She got up and dusted herself off before slithering over to Brick with a look of triumph in her eyes.

  “Why’s the fucking ambulance taking so long?” Brick shouted hoarsely, looking wild-eyed. “You have to help her, Misty. Lay hands on her.”

  “Fuck that shit,” Misty said fiercely. “Let her go, Brick. Stop worrying about that random bitch. I can’t help her; she’s already dead.”

  “No, she’s not. There’s life still inside her; I can feel it. Please, Misty,” he begged with tears pouring from his eyes. “Heal her. Do it for me—for old time’s sake.”

  “She’s dead,” Misty insisted.

  Brick gazed upon Anya and her eyes were half-closed and vacant. Her mouth was open, as if she’d tried to take a final breath of air.

  Sobbing, Brick began bargaining with Misty. “Touch her; you can at least try to heal her.”

  “And what do I get out of it?”

  “I’ll come back to you. I’ll be the man I used to be. Dedicated to you and only you. I’ll place you above all others, Misty—even my son,” Brick said, bargaining with everything that was dear to him. He glanced down at Anya again and her complexion was turning a ghastly gray. Fearing she would soon utter her last breath, he was prepared to make a deal with the devil if that’s what it took to spare Anya’s life.

  Misty arched her brow suspiciously. “So…what you’re saying is, all I have to do is lay hands on this dead bitch and you’ll be humble and devoted the way you were before my mother ruined you and got you to thinking you’re God’s gift to women?”

  “Yes, I swear. I’m all yours, Misty. All you have to do is lay hands on Anya, and I’ll become the old Brick—your faithful lover, exactly the way you trained me to be,” Brick pleaded urgently.

  Misty had a look of excitement in her eyes. “Okay, but I’m curious about when you started seeing this chick. Who the hell is she?”

  “Her name is Anya. She’s a friend who helped me out when I was down. She financed the trip we made to L.A.; she helped me get inside Smash Hitz’s world. I would have never got my hands on Horatio and gotten revenge for what he did to you if it wasn’t for her. She even visited you in the hospital when your mother wouldn’t allow me anywhere near you.”

  “Oh!” Misty said, suddenly enlightened. “So that’s where I know her from. She was lurking in my hospital room, talking to me while I was in the coma. I remember that now but, at the time, I didn’t know who the hell she was, and couldn’t understand why she was talking to me.” Misty shrugged. “It didn’t matter since I couldn’t respond anyway.”

  “You’re wasting precious time, Misty! Her pulse is getting weak. You have to heal her before she stops breathing.”

  Misty sighed. “Okay, I’ll try, Brick.”

  “Stop talking and do it!”

  Misty placed a hand on the open wound on Anya’s neck, and it miraculously closed.

  “Touch her chest and touch the spot where she was stabbed on her right side,” Brick prompted, his words coming out in a rush of desperation. Misty complied, and although the wounds closed, Anya continued to lie still and lifeless in Brick’s arms.

  Misty shrugged. “I tried, but it was too late. I told you she was dead.” Misty removed her hand, and was about to stand up when Anya took a deep, strangled breath.

  “Anya!” Brick cried out. “Breathe, baby. Take a deep breath.”

  “Don’t be talking that baby shit to her. We have a deal, Brick,” Misty said, her eyes brimming with fury.

  “I know,” he said, nodding grimly as he caressed Anya’s face.

  Misty attempted to stand, but her legs gave out. “Ohmigod, something’s wrong with my legs,” she said, her eyes wide with alarm. She lifted her arms to reach for Brick, but they fell uselessly at her sides. “I can’t move, Brick.” Misty looked around in abjec
t fear. Unable to sit up any longer, she toppled to her side. “Oh, no! I can’t walk and I can’t move. I’m fucking paralyzed again. Fucking with that dying bitch took everything out of me.”

  She shot a hateful look at Anya whose clothes were bloodstained, yet she miraculously had no wounds.

  Misty began struggling to breathe. “I’m scared, Brick. Everything’s getting dark. I can feel my soul leaving, but I’m not ready to die. Oh, no. Shane is here and he’s beckoning me, telling me it’s time. Make him go away, Brick,” Misty whimpered.

  Her eyelids fluttered vigorously as she struggled to hold on to the life that was quickly slipping away.

  “Can you help her, Brick?” Anya asked in a weak voice.

  Kneeling over Misty, Brick spoke her name softly, afraid that the sheer volume of his natural voice might hasten her demise. “The ambulance is on the way. You’re gonna be all right, Misty.”

  “I don’t think I’m gonna make it—not this time.”

  “Don’t say that, babe.”

  “You called me, babe,” she murmured dreamily.

  Brick caressed Misty’s face and stroked her hair. “Ain’t nothing changed, you’ll always be my baby.”

  “Really, Brick? You still love me?”

  “I never stopped.”

  Through sheer will, and despite her irregular and shallow breathing, Misty forced her eyes open and scrutinized Brick’s face, searching for something she could trust. Maintaining a loving and reassuring expression, Brick tried to give her what she needed.

  “I love you, too, Brick, and I’m not scared anymore. I’m ready.”

  “Ready for what, Misty?” There was fear in Brick’s voice. Despite her many flaws, Misty was a part of him, and he wasn’t ready to lose his former lover, his sister, his friend.

  “I’m ready to go back,” she said with a faint smile. With one last, croaking gasp, her body went limp.

  “Misty!” Frantic, Brick checked but couldn’t find a pulse. Misty’s eyes were wide open and staring vacantly, and it was obvious that she was dead.

  “Where’s the ambulance?” Anya asked, looking around. “Maybe she can be revived.”

  “She’s beyond help. She’s gone,” Brick said, teary-eyed.

  He reached beneath the car and using the clean part of his bloodied bandana, he wiped Anya’s blood from the weapon. “You’re not gonna like this, Anya—I don’t like it, either—but it’s something I have to do. I’ll explain later.”

  The muscles in his face visibly tightened as he savagely drove the screwdriver in and out of Misty’s body.

  “Why’d you do that?” Anya asked, horrified.

  “To cover our tracks. When I made the nine-one-one call to get you help, I told them you’d been stabbed, but Misty healed you, and I need that call to make sense when the police get here,” Brick explained. He moved to the hood of Audrey’s car, where she remained knocked out. He placed the handle of the screwdriver in Audrey’s hand and folded her fingers around it.

  Regaining consciousness, Audrey slid off the hood of the car, and jumped to her feet, ready to resume battle. Audrey shrieked when she glanced at Misty, who was deathly still and covered in blood. “You killed her,” she accused, wielding the deadly screwdriver as she stalked toward Brick, looking at him with outright loathing.

  At that precise moment, the dual sirens of an ambulance followed by a police car filled the parking garage.

  CHAPTER 43

  Although she couldn’t get along with her daughter while she was alive, Thomasina became a concerned and doting parent after Misty died. “I don’t want you to spare any expense in preparing my child’s body for the grave. Make sure she looks beautiful,” she instructed the mortician.

  Dressed in a satin and lace white gown, Misty was laid to rest in an all-white coffin; she looked like a sleeping angel.

  The choir sang “Heaven” by Beyoncé and both Thomasina and Brick shed bitter tears.

  After the burial, church members and friends gathered at Thomasina’s house, offering condolences as they filled their plates high with fried chicken, greens, and potato salad.

  “I still can’t understand why that crazy nurse would kill the patient she was supposed to be caring for,” Thomasina said to Brick, sniffling and wiping her eyes. “The way she stabbed my child repeatedly was unforgiveable.”

  Brick grunted and nodded.

  “I can’t thank you enough for being there. If you hadn’t called nine-one-one, the police wouldn’t have caught her red-handed, holding the weapon. That nurse needs to be underneath the jail; I pray to God she never gets out. It’s shameful the way that hussy is trying to play crazy, claiming that she killed your friend, Anya and not Misty. What a crock. Anya is alive and well while Misty is dead in her grave.” Thomasina shook her head disgustedly. “Why didn’t Anya come to the service?”

  “She wasn’t comfortable with that. She’s my girl, now, and uh, we’re planning a future together.”

  Thomasina looked surprised. “I thought she was only a friend from your past. How did you move so fast from being with Misty to starting a relationship with Anya?”

  “It’s a long story, Thomasina, but the short version is: Misty didn’t want me anymore—not after she got her looks back and was able to get out of that wheelchair. I turned to Anya during my time of heartbreak and one thing led to another.” It wasn’t the full truth, but it sounded believable.

  “Oh, so you got with her on the rebound. The same way you and I hooked up,” Thomasina observed with a sad smile. “You were always weak for Misty. What was it? Her looks? It had to be her beauty because we both know she wasn’t a very nice person.”

  “Her looks attracted me when we were kids, but after a while, it was her feistiness…the way she believed she could do anything. Misty had some good traits, Thomasina, but you had to dig deep to find them. I was an expert at overlooking her flaws.”

  Thomasina gently patted Brick on the arm and then squinted in bewilderment. “I still don’t understand how it was medically possible for Misty to be walking around.”

  “There isn’t any medical explanation. According to Misty, she developed healing powers from the coma and was able to heal herself.”

  “Why’d you keep important information like that from me? Despite the differences between Misty and me, I was still her mother, and it would have thrilled my heart to know she wasn’t confined to a wheelchair any longer.”

  “When I told you about her gift of prophecy, you said it was the work of the devil, so I decided to keep my mouth shut.”

  Thomasina became pensive. “Maybe I was wrong about her when I said she was touched by the devil; maybe she had a gift from God, after all.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “By the way, you’re not the only one in a new relationship. I met someone at my line dancing class. Someone my age. It feels good to be out with someone and not being stared and frowned at for robbing the cradle,” Thomasina said with a chuckle. “So, I want you to know that I’m through fighting you over the particulars of the divorce. We took our marriage as far as it could go. I got a fine son out of the deal and hopefully you gained some wisdom.”

  “I did.”

  “My only regret is that I didn’t make up with Misty and spend some time with her. It was foolish of me to allow pride to prevent me from having a relationship with my daughter. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for not making up with her.”

  “She knew you loved her, Thomasina. She loved you, too.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. She told me she was going to surprise you with a visit on your birthday.” Brick was lying; Misty only cared about herself, but he wanted to remove some of the guilt from her mother’s heart.

  “People can say what they want about Misty, but she packed a lot of living in her short life. It’s a shame Little Baron will never get to know his big sister,” Thomasina said remorsefully.

  “We’ll keep her memory alive for him,” Brick rep
lied.

  • • •

  Brick turned over the millions that Misty had stockpiled in the storage unit to her mother, telling her that Misty had received the money from donations. Being financially secure, Thomasina was able to move out of the city and into a lovely suburban home that was only a few miles from Brick and Anya’s house. Little Baron didn’t have to travel far when he rotated between his parents’ homes.

  Five inches of snow blanketed Brick and Anya’s property. After helping Little Baron build a snowman, and then participating in a family outing where Anya and Brick ran behind Little Baron as he sledded on a plastic disc down a small hill with a slew of other exuberant kids, Anya’s fingers were starting to feel frostbitten, despite her fur-lined gloves.

  “I’m going to head back to the house and start wrapping the Christmas gifts for the women at the shelter.”

  “Do you need some help?” Brick asked.

  “No, I’ll be fine.” Anya gave Brick a quick kiss and began the five-minute trek back home. She and Brick had a wonderful life and it sometimes weighed heavily on her heart that their financial blessings came from two people who had succumbed to violent deaths: Anya’s mother and Sergio.

  Though she couldn’t bring them back, she did her best to show her gratitude by spreading the wealth around and contributing to numerous charities.

  In the midst of wrapping gifts, Anya was surprised when Brick and his son returned home sooner than expected.

  She stopped what she was doing and undid the scarf around Little Baron’s neck and helped him out of his outerwear. “Do you want some hot chocolate, honey?”

  Little Baron nodded enthusiastically and ran toward the kitchen. “I can make it, myself,” he squealed. When he visited his dad and Anya, he was allowed to be more independent. Popping a K-cup into the Keurig brewer and fixing his own hot chocolate made him feel like a big boy.

  Brick and Anya trailed behind Little Baron to the kitchen, but hung back while keeping an eye on him.