Romeo and the Angel: Impossible Crush Chronicles

by Leeann M. Shane

  Gabby and Antony played on the stairs as I locked the house up.

  The sun was rising over the neighborhood. There weren’t many people out this early like there normally would be. I thought we were running super late, but we were on time. So should everyone else be.

  Across the street, I saw the curtain in a window move, before the person ducked behind it.

  I frowned at them.

  “Where is everyone?” Rya whispered, picking up on the same strange vibe I was tapping into.

  It felt heavy on my chest. “I don’t know,” I mumbled. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I put the kids in her mom’s car and then got into the driver’s seat, taking hold of the keys Rya offered. I pulled out slowly. The cars that had blocked the entrance in last night were gone. But there were two unfamiliar cars driving around the end of the cul-de-sac, slow and measured.

  “Uh, Romeo? I think we’re being followed.”

  My eyes shot to the rearview window. There were two more cars behind us, driving just as slow.

  My blood chilled. I scanned the neighborhood. As the cars at the end of the cul-de-sac put Sergio’s house behind them, his garage door slid up and a group of Kings exited, guns raised at the cars. Behind us, the windows on the strange car slid down, and guns aimed out of the open windows. One for each of us.

  “Romeo!” someone bellowed, and my eyes cut to the end of the cul-de-sac to find Diego looking at the car with a horrified look on his face. Kings members flooded the street.

  My heart pounded.

  Time slowed down.

  My eyes cut to Rya, to Gabby, and then to Antony. I felt this chill slide over me. The sudden, bitter understanding. That this was how it ended. I’d spent my entire life waiting for this moment. But I thought it would come differently. I’d have a crown and knife tattoo on my arm. I’d have nothing left. And my girlfriend and siblings wouldn’t be anywhere around.

  Tires screeched on both ends and gunshots rang out at the end of the cul-de-sac. My little brother and sister screamed bloody murder. Rya screamed, too. She shouted words I didn’t hear. I couldn’t hear anything but the gunshots. One of the cars behind us sped around to my side.

  Rya shouted at me, and then her body fell over my lap, and she pressed her hand down on my foot, making her mother’s car speed up.

  But it was too late.

  The person in the passenger seat of the car pulled alongside. He was instantly familiar. We’d fought before. We’d warred. It was my turn to lose.

  I knew what had gotten me there. The gun pointed at my face. What protected Rya from the spray of bullets was the fact that she was trying to force the car into action. She was on my lap, her head under the steering wheel. Not a single bullet could hit her.

  They hit me instead.

  The explosion of bullets was too fast to count. My chest ripped open, and searing pain tore through my heart.

  I didn’t have time to react.

  Time to move.

  All I had time left to do was to regret.

  I wished I said I love you to Rya in English, that she could have heard me say it at least once. That she’d have it.

  I wished I said goodbye to Mama before she left for work. Wished I thanked her for breaking her back for us.

  I wished I hugged Gabby and Antony harder. And I hoped I was a good big brother to them.

  That they remembered me fondly.

  My final thought wasn’t even really a thought. It was a bone deep sense of longing. For my own life. For all the things I’d miss. For the people who would miss me.

  I tried to pray for myself, and if not for me then for the people I left behind.

  But my heartbeat slowed in my chest and I slipped into the darkness throbbing at the corner of my eyes.

  Wondering where the blinding light was.

  Where was my angel?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  RYA

  The sky looked mean.

  Maybe the universe was mad today.

  Or mourning.

  A single raindrop fell from the sky, followed by another, until soon it was pouring on us. The thick, sick feeling I’d had in my stomach since the shooting grew. If I moved wrong, I’d throw up the breakfast Kenzie forced me to eat. I couldn’t remember a time being that sad. That broken.

  I couldn’t ever remember feeling this lost.

  On my left, Gabby and Antony sat squished together in one seat. There weren’t many people there. Just the people who knew him. Gabby looked up at me, her eyes, more toffee than midnight, filled with tears and she hid her face against my side. I rubbed her hair, trying and failing not to cry too. Again. For the millionth time in the past few weeks.

  On my right, Kenzie stared off into space. Numb. My sister was numb but one of the strongest people I ever knew. It was hard on me lately to judge our childhood relationship, but maybe I was always too hard on her. Hard on myself. I wanted that perfect sister relationship, but the thing was, I didn’t need it. Not then. When I needed her now, she was there. And that counted for everything to me.

  “Let’s go,” Kenzie mumbled, squeezing my hand.

  They were lowering him into the ground.

  “Please, Rya, don’t look. Let’s go.”

  I picked Gabby up and Kenzie took hold of Ant’s hand. Together, we left the cemetery. Tear tracks were stuck to all four of our faces, creating salty track marks that told the truth even when we tried to be brave.

  When we got to my father’s car, Gabby refused to let me go. Since the shooting, she’d clung to me. Romeo’s mom was nice about letting me take over his place. And frankly, she needed my help. She’d taken on another job and was never home since the shooting. She worked and worked, and her children were suffering without her.

  But his mother couldn’t deal.

  She couldn’t face the loss surrounding us both.

  She couldn’t even talk to me most times. But every time she did, she called me Angel.

  Like she knew.

  Knew Romeo and I belonged together.

  “It’s not safe for us to sit together,” I told her softly. “You need to wear your seat belt.”

  She shook her head against me. Gabby hadn’t spoken. Not a single word in the last three weeks. Antony spoke, but only if he had to. Otherwise, he read and read and read, escaping with every world he delved into. I took him to the library and filled his bookshelves, making sure he could cope in his way.

  “She doesn’t like being in the back seat,” Kenzie said softly.

  I ground my teeth together. I knew why she didn’t like being in cars. In the back seat, in the front seat—I knew why. I didn’t like being confined in a car either. Not since we watched the boy we loved get shot right in front of our eyes.

  Shaking, I broke the rules and sat in the back with Gabby on my lap. The seat belt barely fit over us. Antony rested his head on my shoulder, turning the pages of his book at rapid fire.

  “Are we going to the hospital today?” he asked, so soft I thought I hadn’t heard him.

  I kissed his sister’s hair. “Later. We’re going home to change, and my mom is going to take you both to go see your social worker. And then we’ll go.”

  My eyes burned when tears slid down his face. Gabby gripped handfuls of my hair. If my mom didn’t get custody of them, they were going to take them away. Separate them and put them in foster homes. The shooting opened doors no one wanted open.

  But it closed many doors too. Slammed them shut for good.

  We were left with the rubble, and sometimes, I knew exactly how the Rush Ruins felt.

  When we got home, we were greeted by the shrill cry of Aria and Aliza. Immediately, Kenzie perked up. She left her loss outside and scooped up Aria from Mom’s arms. Mom kissed the top of Kenzie’s head and then came over to us, hugging and kissing all three of us. She stooped down and spoke quietly to the twins; Mom had a way with them that warmed my heart.

  Maybe it was a twin thing.

  Dad came down
the hall, bouncing Aliza comfortingly in his arms. When he saw me, he gave me the same look he’d been giving me for weeks. Every time he looked at me, my eyes threatened to spill over. His eyes said one thing: what if?

  I didn’t do well with what if.

  Not since the shooting.

  I ducked into the kitchen, starting on lunch. I’d gotten used to my shaking hands. Used to the obnoxious churning constantly eating away at my insides. Dad kissed the top of my head. I appreciated that he didn’t ask how I was. Everyone knew how I was. When Mom left with Gabby and Antony, I became a nervous wreck.

  If the state took Gabby and Antony, it would kill me. But it would ruin them.

  I just hoped Romeo’s mother did the right thing.

  She couldn’t be the mother they deserved. She hadn’t been for a long time. No one was blaming her; we were too busy trying to save the rest of her children from suffering the fate of their older brothers.

  “Sit down, Rya.” Kenzie gave me a hard, worried look. “You’re going to wear a hole into the carpet. Everything will work out.”

  “How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through?”

  She looked at Aria, a loving glow overcoming my sister’s face. “Because it has to. Because I said goodbye to him the night before it happened. It was like he knew. Knew it was going to end. I said goodbye and he said goodbye and…” Her bravery wavered and I saw the pain, but she wasn’t fooling herself into thinking things would be all right. She genuinely thought that they would be. Because the babies were all right. “Everything will work out.”

  When Mom and the twins came home, Gabby fell into my arms. Antony ran to my bedroom where I’d set up his bookshelves. They both slept in my bed and I slept with Kenzie in hers. It was a tight fit, all of us, but I didn’t think we’d survive on our own. We needed each other.

  Plus, I didn’t think any of us could sleep anyway. I knew I couldn’t. Every night was plagued with nightmares. The only nights I got any sleep were the nights I spent in the hospital.

  Kenzie came with the twins and me that night. I’d packed a bag for myself.

  When they left, and it was just me and him, I let go of the torrent pulling me under.

  I closed his hospital door. I pulled the blinds.

  It was just me and him in the dark.

  I pulled the chair over near his head and I rested my chin on his bed, staring intently at his eyes, my own leaking.

  “You can wake up now. Any time.”

  When Romeo didn’t answer, I hated how betrayed I felt. But I did. I felt betrayed.

  Wake up! I screamed inside.

  But he lay there, breathing on his own but entirely still.

  Romeo was the only person who got shot that day who survived. That had to mean something. I felt it in my soul. He’d wake up from his coma. So even though my father looked at me with what if he didn’t in his eyes, that fear didn’t exist in mine. Romeo survived getting shot not to prove a point, but to get his life back.

  He could have one now.

  Sergio was murdered. Most of the Kings were the day the West Snakes attacked the neighborhood. There was no one to force Romeo into the gang. He had no loyalty any longer. He could wake up. He was breathing just fine on his own now.

  Years spent suffocating only to keep himself alive by the strength of his breath alone.

  I wiped at my eyes, but it was useless. Tears fell all day and all night. I studied his beautiful face. The slope of his nose. The angle of his cheekbones. The fullness of his lips. His thick, onyx lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks. His hair had grown in on the sides, thick and messy. I constantly pushed it back from his eyes, but it always fell back. Stubble coated his chin and was moving down his neck.

  He looked so peaceful.

  But I knew better. He wasn’t peaceful inside. There was a divot between his brows. His left hand constantly jerked, like he was reaching for something. That’s why I only stayed on his left side. When he woke up, and he reached, I wanted him to reach for me.

  I wrapped my hand in his and kissed the back of it.

  “Guess what? My mom and dad were awarded temporary custody of Gabby and Antony. Your mom didn’t contest. In six months, the judge will reexamine the case, but you’ll be awake by then. They’re safe, Romeo. They’re finally safe.” I pressed my lips to his hand and staunched my sobs. “Wake up. Please. Wake up.”

  I prayed, the way I did every night, that he’d wake up and I’d get to see his toffee midnight eyes again. And even though it was greedy, I prayed for forever, too.

  “That’s all the good news I had. The rest is all bad. You want to hear it anyway?” I sighed. “Today was Raf’s funeral. Kenzie wanted to go. It was a lot harder than your brother’s, but that’s probably because I didn’t really know Diego. But I went for you. So somehow, someway you could say goodbye to him. Romeo,” I sobbed. “I can’t take it anymore. Wake up.” I shoved at his shoulder. “Wake up!”

  It was harder at night, in that moment before I fell asleep holding his hand, where we were in the same place. That same unconscious plain of nothing. I reached for it, wanting to be with him somehow.

  Someway.

  Halloween came and went.

  I forced the twins to go trick-or-treating at the mall. The city was too dangerous to risk walking from neighborhood to neighborhood. Since the West Snakes had compromised the Kings, the violence in Kings River had escalated.

  Gabby was a princess.

  Antony was the prince.

  Even though they didn’t smile once, they didn’t cry.

  Thanksgiving arrived and faded away.

  I spent half the day with my family, stuffing my face with turkey I didn’t taste. And I spent the other half with Romeo, waiting for him to wake up.

  On the last day of school before Christmas break, I spotted Rosa walking out to the parking lot. Sensing me staring, she stared back. There was finally a chill in the air.

  She gave me a tiny, timid broken smile. She’d lost a lot the day of the shooting.

  I didn’t have it in my heart to waste energy hating her. But I also didn’t have it in my heart to give her a smile I didn’t feel.

  I nodded at her and then I turned my back on her, waiting on Kenzie before we walked home together. Mom and the twins were just pulling into the driveway when Kenzie and I were walking up. I expected the doors to open, for my heart to fill when Gabby came running at my legs and Antony told me about his current read.

  Instead, Mom rolled down her window, eyes bright and wide. She looked at me. “Get in.”

  “What’s wrong?” Kenzie asked worriedly.

  But I already knew.

  Her eyes were too bright.

  Not a shred of sadness or pity.

  Only hope.

  “Nothing,” I breathed. “Nothing’s wrong. Not anymore.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ROMEO

  Confusion tormented my mind.

  A mind that didn’t feel like mine.

  Lights exploded behind my eyes.

  Eyes that didn’t feel like mine.

  Sounds flashed in my ears.

  Ears that didn’t feel like mine.

  There were no conscious thoughts to grab onto. My brain churned, but it didn’t produce anything solid.

  “Don’t move, Mr. Moreno. Please remain still. You’re waking up from a coma. You’re at the hospital in Kings River. But you’re well taken care of. I promise.”

  Coma?

  Hospital?

  A cresting wave of unease catapulted my brain back into unconsciousness. I couldn’t possibly know how much time passed between then and the next time my ears and eyes struggled to work again. There was no rhyme or reason to the strangled confusion and the non-lucid feeling.

  Voices sounded far away. I heard the essence of their words but not the words themselves. The light was too bright, making my skull pound. It was the first thought I’d had that I’d managed to hold on to before I faded. The light hurt; I di
dn’t like the light.

  I began to fear waking up. Like a yo-yo, I volleyed between panic and nothing until my mind began to grasp onto things.

  Beeping. A rhythmic beep played on loop.

  I stayed awake for longer, but it was never long enough.

  Until one moment turned into minutes, and my eyes pried open. It wasn’t light. It was dark. The fuzziness on the edges of my eyes looked like filmy static. I could see, but I didn’t know what I was looking at. I expected my mind to immediately shut down, but it remained coherent. The beeping I’d heard picked up, no longer rhythmic but insistent.

  It felt like someone was holding me down, keeping my mind hostage. I couldn’t move. The static in my eyes faded gradually, leaving behind a cruddy image. I could see again, albeit fuzzy. The dark in the room was comforting. I looked around as best I could, the impulse to move shooting from my brain to my hands. My hands, however, wouldn’t move the way they used to. The beeping sounded louder as I struggled to lift my hand a few inches off the bed.

  In dismay, I realized the reason it was so hard was the weight. My arm felt inconveniently heavy.

  I let it fall limply back to the bed, lying there, waiting to fade out again.

  A soft mewl sounded from somewhere in the room. My eyes shot around, bouncing along the shadows until I spotted a blonde ponytail. I traced the ponytail down to a body slumped in a chair. They had a blanket pulled around them and their mouth hung open; drool pooled on the blanket.

  The beeping intensified. My eyes flitted to my right where I heard it. A monitor. My heartbeat.

  I was still alive.

  My eyes found the body again. Out of all that I didn’t know, I knew her. Even plagued with no solid memory, I remembered her.

  How could I forget my angel?

  But remembering my angel unlocked the closed door in my mind. One look at her beautiful sleeping face, and I was catapulted back to that car. I was locked inside, the people I cared about most beside me. Bullets tore through the metal and then me. Fierce panic coated my tongue. The beeping was so loud, the angel started to stir.

  I remembered everything. Awful thoughts bombarded me. Bloody, painful thoughts. I wasn’t even sure if I imagined some of them. I didn’t truly remember anything after the bullets entered my body. I looked down, but there was a gown blocking my chest.