Jahleel

by S. Ann Cole

  “At his sentencing hearing, you’ll give a speech about forgiveness and how this near death experience has changed your perspective on life yada yada yada. Then you’ll ask the judge to be lenient, so they won’t give this innocent man a fuckin’ life sentence.”

  He watched my expression for a moment, exhaled, then told me, “The act starts the second a nurse walks through that door. You’re a victim, not suicidal. Got that?”

  Averting my eyes, I croaked, “I don’t like it.”

  “I don’t care if you like it or not,” he snapped. “Were you seeking attention when you did this? ‘Cause if that was your motive—as if you didn’t already have it all—now the world’s fixated on you. And not in a good way. What did you think would happen? You think if you’d succeeded, at some point you could decide you no longer want to be dead and make yourself un-dead? Once you’re dead, you’re dead. There’s no turning back. You wanna maintain your rep, you do as I say and act your fuckin’ ass off. You wanna selfishly give it all up? Be my guest, Suicidal Sassy.”

  His warm hands left mine, and a shiver ran through me as he stood to his feet.

  “Does Lion approve of—”

  “He’ll get on board. Last time I told him to do something, someone became a star and locked in his cred. Smart as he is, Lion couldn’t come up with a better plan to salvage this mess you created. Thank Chad.”

  There, he was distancing himself as if he had nothing to do with it and it was all Chad. But I knew Jahleel more than he thought I did, and his fingerprints were all over this plan.

  As he started moving towards the door, I groaned when a sharp pain lanced me in the gut. “My stomach hurts so bad.”

  In a dull, apathetic voice, he tossed over his shoulder, “It was pumped. That’s what happens when you swallow over two dozen mixed pills.” When he got to the door, he placed his hand on the handle, then looked back at me and said, “It sucks, right? But damn, I was hoping you’d wake up feeling a shit lot more pain than this.”

  He gave me a hateful, repulsed look that hurt more than my stomach pain before he left.

  Now I really wanted to die.

  Claustrophobic doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt with everyone crowding around my hospital bed, giving me sympathetic gazes, pursed lips and small head shakes, as though I were lying dead in a bloody casket.

  Lion stood at the foot of the bed, cellphone pressed to his ear as he divided his attention between me and whoever was so important on the other end. The one person I expected to be raging mad at me was him. However, he was uncharacteristically commiserative.

  Was this the part where people sucked up to me because they thought I was unstable and fragile, so they avoided saying anything that would probably send me swallowing pills again?

  Everyone talked all at once, but it was all white noise to me, because I didn’t really want to hear from, or see, anyone. Jahleel’s venom was preferable to their empathizing. As much as I was curious about who found me and how, I haven’t uttered a single word to a soul since they entered.

  Jahleel never returned since he left the hospital room the day before, so that could very well be the reason behind my mood. Maybe he really hated me for what I did.

  All had gone as he’d said. The man taking the fall was picked up with evidence that tied him to my attempted murder—including my ‘engagement ring’. He confessed, and it hit the news with a jaw-dropping twist to the ‘Suicide Day’ story.

  Detectives came in earlier that morning to question me. Alina came in an hour before them, sent by Chad to relay word for word the story given to the cops, just so my story would align. I was positive Jahleel would deliver the message to me and not Alina, but it was clear he was avoiding me, distancing himself.

  He came to the hospital several times a day, but didn’t see me. This I knew, because whenever I heard his name mentioned through the white noise, my ears would perk up like a damn watchdog.

  At this very moment, my auditory nerves were heightened and keened to the left, where Amanda, Amy and Jamie were blabbing about how good of an actor Jahleel was.

  “…unbelievable how well he plays the devastated fiancé,” Amy chattered.

  “Don’t you mean believable?” Jamie pitched.

  “I think he’s in the wrong profession,” Amanda agreed. “I swear he has me so convinced, the only time I’m reminded he’s acting is when the doctors turn their backs and he’s a sweary arsehole doucheshit again.”

  “Well, he’s made bread out of stone. God forbid how things would’ve turned out if this was left in Ferbie’s hands.”

  They cackled, and, of course, that ticked me off.

  “Get out,” I said out loud, speaking for the first time since they’d gathered in like gossipers at a crime scene. “Everyone. I need to be alone.”

  No one budged, as if what I said no longer mattered.

  “Last time you said that,” Amanda whispered, “you were found half-dead in a tub of water.”

  Shooting her a glare while tilting my head in Amy and Jamie’s direction—who didn’t know the suicide attempt was a real suicide attempt—I gritted out, “I wish the attempt on my life had been successful. At least I’d have privacy in death. A golden casket all to myself? Fuck yeah. Buried six feet under where I can’t be disturbed? Le sigh.”

  Blinking rapidly, she turned and started out of the room, tossing over her shoulder, “You’re already disturbed, Kia.”

  “I bet a million bucks it was you, you nosy bugger,” I said to her retreating form.

  She whirled around, tears filling her eyes. “You’re a pain in my arse, Kia! I don’t know why I…I should have just…” She trailed off, frustratingly flashing away the tears from her eyes. She never cried—at least not in front of others.

  “Yeah, Manda,” I bit out. “You bloody well should’ve. That’s the point.”

  Instead of perpetuating the argument, she stormed out of the room, and like the leader she was, when she moved, everyone else followed suit.

  Except Lion, who was still planted at the foot of the bed, mumbling into his cellphone while watching me with concern.

  “You, too, manager,” I snapped, glowering at him.

  Arching a brow, he mumbled for a moment longer into the phone before hanging up. “You don’t get to give me orders, Kia.”

  “Out.”

  Refusing to acknowledge my request, he slid his cellphone in his pocket, and gripped the steel barring on the hospital bed as though he needed something to hold him up.

  I’d never seen him like that before: hurt, confused, helpless.

  And for the first time since yesterday, I spared a sliver of thought on the ripple effect my selfish actions might have on the people close to me.

  Lion loved me like his own, so of course something like this would leave him gutted. He was probably beating himself up for not paying close enough attention. But then, the few people close to me knew I had issues. And they knew precisely what my issues were. Or who my issue was. Lion and Amanda were two people who didn’t even have to question why I did this. They just knew.

  “You know,” he said in a low, remorseful voice. “If I’d known things were this dysfunctional between you two, I would’ve opened up my damned mouth and said somethin’ sooner.”

  “Oh, spare me,” I said with a quick eye roll. “You knew everything from the very beginning. There’s nothing you could’ve done. He’s the only one with that power.”

  Lion dropped his head, and he looked down at his hands still gripping the steel barring. “You right ‘bout me knowin’ everything from the jump. But I kept both your secrets, sat back and watched a fuckin’ train wreck in motion that coulda been stopped if everybody had just kept it one hundred.”

  “‘Both’? What are you talking about?”

  Letting go of the barring, he ran a hand down his face and sighed. “It’s a long fuckin’ story, Kia. And I have to go before I miss my flight. Tonight’s the Awards, and I’ve gotta be there both fo
r my nominated artistes and to collect your awards. You wanna record a ‘thank you’ message from the hospital bed? Fans aren’t too happy about you not performin’ tonight, so a recordin’ would make up for it. I could get—”

  “How do you even know if I’m going to win anything?”

  A proud grin split across his face instead of the cocky eyebrow lift I usually got whenever I fired ‘how-do-you-know’ questions at him. “Because you’re you, Kia. You always win. Not only that, but you’ve been nominated for eleven different awards. You have to win at least one.”

  Did I always win? Awards? Sure. But the battle of love and obsession? Nope. This hospital bed proved it.

  “No,” I replied. “Just speak on my behalf. Say I’m too confused and beside myself or some shite like that.”

  “Cool. I should really be stayin’ here with you, but I easily feel confident leavin’ you in his hands.”

  “Confident?” I squeaked, eyebrows shooting up. “He was mean as shite to me when I regained consciousness. He hates me, Lion.”

  Lion waved a dismissive hand. “He’s been mean to everyone. He barked in my face and even chucked me, blamin’ me for lettin’ this happen. He hasn’t spoken to me since. But I let him be angry and allowed him to take over because I know well enough, this is his way of dealin’ with his shit. He’s blamin’ everyone around you, as a matter of fact.”

  “Everyone but himself,” I muttered. “The real reason.”

  “Kia….don’t hesitate to do as he suggests. I’ll approve. He’s a smart dude who never fails. And even if he comes off as an asshole, it’s because he’s…because he means well.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. “But only because you, my manager, say I should.”

  “Right, that’s why,” Lion said, laughing as he walked up to the side of the bed. He leaned over to plant a kiss on my forehead. “The world loves you, Kia. Your friends love you.” He straightened up then stared me in the eyes. “I love you.”

  It’s not enough, I wanted to say. Because the one person I wanted to love me, didn’t.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Even in the dark depths of my sleep, I could smell him, taste his scent on my tongue. I kept my eyes closed, heart thrumming as I held my breath just to hear him breathe. For some reason, I dreaded him, having no idea what kind of acerbity I’d wake up to.

  Along with the constant beeping of the machine stringing me up, was a scratching sound I’ve become familiar with after spending much time with him: pencil lead on paper.

  He was sketching.

  Me?

  After a good three minutes ticked on, his voice floated over me in warm waves, “I know you’re awake.”

  Busted.

  On a sigh, I opened my eyes to see him turning the sketch face down on his lap. “How?”

  He stood to his feet and dragged his chair closer to the bed so he could take my hand in his, thumb circling in my lifeline. “I can watch your heart, remember?”

  Reaching up, he pressed two fingers to the dip at the base of my neck. “Your pulse here started beating an erratic pace the second you woke and figured I was here.”

  Like a blushful teenage girl getting high and flustered at the first touch of her crush, I shoved his hand from me. “That’s a little arrogant, don’t you think?”

  “I’m only made arrogant by your sloppily concealed reactions towards me,” he said with a small smile. “So, blame yourself.”

  I regarded him with a frown. His mood had changed considerably since the last 48hours. Had he decided he no longer hated me?

  “When are they going to let me out of this damn place?”

  “Tomorrow. Psyche ward, therapy, and all other complications from the failed suicide went away when the ‘attempted homicide’ came into play.”

  “Thank you loads for stepping in, JK,” I whispered. “I really appreciate it.”

  “Oh yeah, Lydia can’t make it here to see you because she’s on a hospital bed herself…” Pausing, he squeezed my hand. “She’s dying of cancer, Sassy.”

  A painful sound escaped me. “Oh my God. And she kept it from me? I have to get out of here and go see her! I can’t…Oh my God. How could I have been so selfish?”

  “Shh. Relax. One tragedy at a time, okay? Let’s think about you first. Lydia has a couple more weeks to go.”

  “But—”

  “Sassy, look at me.” He pushed me back down when I tried to get up. I looked at him. “Calm down. Please. I promise we’ll go see her before she…”

  Dies. Before she dies! Lydia… I took a few calming breaths. He was right, if I was going to see her, I had to look hale and happy. Not like this. “Okay.”

  Satisfied with my acquiescence, he kissed the back of my hand. “Timberly…I tried gettin’ hold of her…but nothing. I don’t understand. I’m sure wherever in the world she is, she’d be aware, right?”

  Timber was someone I practiced never to worry about. With her touring the depths of the world in strange countries with strange cultures, sometimes we didn’t hear from her for weeks at a time. “She’s probably in some part of the world where dinosaurs and giants still exist and technology is unheard of.”

  “You sure?” he asked. “Ferbz seems worried something might have happened to her.”

  “Probably,” I mused. “But I’m ninety-nine percent sure she’s safe. I’ll give her another week to call before hitting the panic button.”

  He shrugged. “Well, that’s it for your family.”

  His fingers flexed over mine, his eyes moving to our hands and staying there, as though he’d suddenly developed a fascination with hands.

  As I watched him watch our hands, his tongue made a swift sweep over his bottom lip, and if I perceived accurately, he almost seemed…nervous. A nervous Jahleel? Wow.

  “Who found me?”

  Gaze shifting to my face, he answered in a voice so quiet, “Me.”

  “How?”

  “Amanda.” He swallowed hard, as though the memory was too much. “She called me. Crying. Said you’d been strange all week; that she had a feelin’ you were gone. I was confused, not knowing what she meant by that. Until she screamed, ‘I think she’s trying to kill herself, JK. Now.’

  “Of course, I told her both of you were sick fucks, and I didn’t have time for your shit and hung up. But even as I said all that, I was already straddling my bike. I got to your house and ran upstairs. You weren’t in your room, but I could hear the shower running. Thinking you were fine as I’d assumed, I was going to leave, but then I noticed water seeping under the bathroom door. I tried the door, but it was locked. I panicked and shouted for your men. We tried kickin’ the door in, but it wouldn’t budge. Thomas went and found an axe. We had to axe the fuckin’ thing open…”

  Pausing, he let go of my hand only long enough to rake his fingers shakily through his hair. “You really wanted to die, didn’t you? A chair under the door handle?”

  “Yes,” I whispered in reply to his rhetorical question. “Life no longer made sense without you.”

  His head dipped low, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck, Sassy. I don’t know how it’s even possible you’re here—alive. In that big ass tub, your head under water, you were hueless, cold…dead. I still can’t believe it. Not even the doctors—I think it was one of the docs who saw your lifeless body when you first came in who leaked shit news that you’re dead. But I wouldn’t accept that, and insisted they do whatever the fuck they had to do to bring you back, and…here you are. Unfuckingbelievable.”

  I now understood his anger towards me the day before. His anger both to me and to God. He was gutted. I couldn’t even begin to pretend I understood what it must’ve felt like for him to find me like that. To think I was really gone. Poor Amanda must’ve lost it, yet I treated her like complete crap earlier today.

  Jesus, I was truly selfish.

  Naked silence descended. I had no excuse or plausible words for what I did. For hurting the people around me.

  I
raised my eyes to the clock on the adjacent wall and watched ten slow minutes tick by, while Jahleel kept his head lowered, eyes on our hands again. It was 1:34am, and I idly wondered how the Awards went, and if Jahleel’s new family was waiting up for him.

  “Does she know you’re here?” I blurted.

  “She who?”

  “Marsh, if I remember correctly.”

  “My life’s none of her business.”

  “Isn’t she—”

  “Marsha led you to believe something that isn’t true,” he said, eyes snapping up to mine. “We’re not together. We never were. She was already on thin ice with me for what she did, then she went ahead and fuckin’ lied to you.”

  “So…” I swallowed, “you don’t live together? As a family?”

  “No,” he said, slowly enunciating the word so I’d get it. “Claire’s not used to me. She’s almost five, for shit’s sake. Never knew her father until now. She doesn’t understand my role in her life yet, so whenever I admonish her, she doesn’t listen. She’s fuckin’ rude, feisty and answers only to her mother. Drives me fuckin’ crazy.

  “I understand I can’t just shove this father thing down her throat and expect her to adapt, so I let Marsh come over sometimes and we spend time together so Claire can get used to me. That’s all it is. After what she did? You kiddin’ me?”

  Shaking his head, he ran a hand through his oh-so-amazing hair again. “Swear to God, ever since I learned about Claire, it’s like my cock went into repulsed mode against women. I’m afraid to fuck again. Because apparently not even condoms can protect you. Women are sick fuckin’ creatures.”

  I couldn’t help smiling. “Maybe you should try the dick to dick route then. To avoid us ‘creatures’.”

  He dipped his head to hide his own smile, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. “I’ll think about it.”