Cursing myself, I watched as MatÍ as knelt next to Abriana’s hospital bed and gently picked up her hand. Bringing it to his lips, he brushed it with a light kiss and then held it against his cheek.
I scowled as he closed his eyes and whispered a prayer. No one is going to be able to save her from me. No one!
“I’m going to go get some coffee,” I muttered as I headed toward the door.
MatÍ as didn’t bother responding or even turning around.
You know what, MatÍ as? You better lay off this pity party for Abriana. If you don’t, I’m going to make you pay for it. I stomped out of the room and into the hallway of the hospital.
***
Staring at my phone, I waited for MatÍ as to call. I pictured what the conversation would sound like and happiness I would feel inside.
“Alexa, I need to talk to you,” he would say.
“About what?” I would ask with big doe eyes.
He would pause, building the suspense that was ready to detonate deep inside my body.
“I love you,” he would whisper.
“Pardon?” I would ask, pretending to be surprised.
“I love you,” he would repeat. “I always have and I always will.”
“What about Abriana?” I would ask in fake disbelief.
“I was just using her to get closer to you,” he would explain, his voice choked with shame. “I know it was wrong, but I didn’t know what else to do?”
“MatÍ as, I have to admit something too,” I would say. “I love you, too.”
He would demand to see me and I would give in.
A smile would cross my face as he would pull up in front of the house. When Abriana would go to open the front door, he would rush past her and scoop me up in his arms. Smothering me with a passionate kiss, Abriana’s jaw would drop and tears would fall down her cheeks.
“Sorry, Bri,” I would say with a smirk.
“What’s meant to be, will be,” MatÍ as would say with a smile before kissing me again.
“You okay?” Detective Lock drawled.
Shaking my head, the images of MatÍ as’ lips meeting mine faded. “Um, yeah. I’m fine. Sorry, just day dreaming.”
“Kind of a strange place to be day dreaming,” replied the detective.
I shrugged. How dare he question me!
I stared into his pale blue eyes. “So, what’s up?” I asked, trying not to sound suspicious.
“You’re mother and father told me that you witnessed a crash cart entering Easton Pierce’s room.”
“Yeah,” I responded. “Did the bastard die?”
Rubbing his chin slowly with his thumb and forefinger, he looked at me with a furrowed brow. “Is that what you want?”
I frowned as I crossed my arms. “Excuse me?”
“Do you want Easton Pierce to die?” he asked.
Is this some kind of trick question?
“He hurt my sister. He gets whatever is coming his way,” I spat.
Detective Lock leaned back and smoothed out his tie. “Don’t you want justice for your sister?”
I answered his question with a question of my own, “Don’t you think Easton Pierce deserves to die for what he did to my sister?”
“An eye for an eye kind of girl,” stated Detective Lock with a thin smile.
Uncrossing my arms, I reached for my cup of lukewarm coffee. Taking a sip, I scrunched up my nose at the bitter, cheap coffee.
Detective Lock cleared his throat as he watched me drink from the white ceramic mug.
Setting the cup down, I met his gaze. “So is he dead or what?”
“At this time, Easton Pierce is in critical condition,” said Detective Lock.
Anger flared up and threatened to boil over. Instead of screaming out in rage, I raked my teeth over my bottom lip. Why won’t you just die already, Easton? Now I’m going to have to figure out a way to get past those police officers and into your room, all so I can kill you, because you just won’t DIE!
The detective drummed his fingers on the table. “Next time you find out information vital to the case, perhaps you should run it by us before you tell your sister.”
“Excuse me?”
“Alexa, you have to try and understand,” Detective Lock explained, holding his hands out, fingers splayed. “Your sister is beyond traumatized and bombarding her with this kind of information is dangerous to her already fragile psyche,” Detective Lock said in a firm tone.
Great! Now she has you under her thumb too! Ugh! That little . . .
“I thought it would help,” I said, looking down at the table. That’s right, convince him you feel terrible about hurting Abriana. “I feel really bad.”
He nodded his head and then yawned.
“Tired?” I asked.
“I guess so,” he responded as he stared at me.
Why is he staring at me again?
“Strange,” he said.
Turning my cup with my fingertips, I responded, “What?”
“Most people yawn when they see someone else do it. You didn’t,” he said.
I frowned. “I guess I’m just not tired.”
“Guess not,” he replied.
An awkward silence filled the space between us.
“Any luck on finding this elusive other attacker?” I asked with hope in my voice.
He shook his head. “We still don’t have any evidence, besides what your sister has told us, that there was another person involved.”
“Hmmm,” I murmured.
“Alexa, do you think your sister shot Easton?” asked Detective Lock.
“Honestly,” I paused, “I want to say no because that’s what she told me, but . . . ”
Detective Lock leaned in closer, “But what?”
“But, when I think about it, I always come to the same conclusion,” I said.
“Which is?” asked Detective Lock.
“That Abriana shot Easton.”
Chapter Eighteen
Abriana
In a drugged haze, I looked into MatÍ as’ chocolate brown eyes.
“MatÍ as? Is that you?” I whispered.
“I’m here, Abriana. I’m here,” he said in a comforting voice.
My body melted as he picked up my hand, stroking it gently.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes warm and full of concern.
I pulled the thin blanket up to my chin. “They don’t believe me.”
MatÍ as’ brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“There was someone else,” I said. “She killed Easton and she tried to kill me.”
He reached under the blanket and found my hand. Weaving his fingers with mine, he gave my hand a small squeeze. “I believe you, Abriana.”
“Really?” I asked in disbelief.
“Of course,” he responded.
A weak smile crossed my face. “Thank you.”
He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “You don’t have to thank me, Bri. I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”
Goose bumps snaked up my arms and down my neck. Mmmmm . . . I inhaled his intoxicating scent. Memories of our first kiss floated through my clouded mind. We were sitting on his parents’ front porch. The moon peeked out from behind a wispy cloud and a light breeze cut through the humid air. MatÍ as reached forward and brushed a fallen lock of hair off my face. I remembered inhaling sharply as his fingertips met my skin. Abriana, you’re so beautiful, he murmured before cupping my chin and brushing his lips against mine. My first kiss . . . It couldn’t have been any more perfect.
“Abriana,” said MatÍ as, interrupting my trip down memory lane.
“Yes?” I replied.
His velvet brown eyes stared intently into mine. “I know this isn’t the right time or anything . . . ” he trailed off. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “But I just want you to know that I will always love you and I want to be here for you. Not just that, I want to protect you and keep you safe from anythin
g bad ever happening again.”
Everything felt warm and fuzzy. “I’d like that, MatÍ as.”
“Really?” he asked in a hopeful voice.
“Yes.”
MatÍ as leaned over and pulled me in for an embrace. Stroking my hair, he whispered into my ear, “I love—”
Before he could finish, someone entered the room and gasped.
“Are you two getting back together?” fumed Alexa.
MatÍ as’ eyes went wide as he quickly pulled away from my side.
“Lex, it isn’t—”
With her hands on her hips, she snarled, “It isn’t what it looks like?”
Walking through the door with a white bag from the pharmacy, my mother frowned. “Whoa, what’s going on here?”
Sticking out her lower lip, Alexa pouted, “Abriana is already jumping back into a relationship with MatÍ as. She hasn’t even left the hospital yet. I don’t think the psychologist would approve of this!”
“What?” asked my mother in a concerned voice.
I tried to make sense of everything going on around me. The drug haze had started to lift, but still left me feeling a strange mixture of relaxed and overly alert.
Clearing my throat, I looked at my sister. “Alexa, you’re overreacting, and Mom, you have nothing to worry about.”
Before anyone could say anything else, a woman wearing a navy skirt and a cream sweater walked into the room.
“I’m Dr. Gillian,” she announced. “Is it all right if I spend some time alone with Abriana?”
“Sure,” muttered Alexa.
“Honey, are you sure you can handle this?” asked my mom.
I gave an encouraging nod.
MatÍ as released my hand. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
After the door shut, Dr. Gillian gave me an understanding smile. “Sounds like a lot is going on. Mind if I sit down?”
“That’s fine,” I answered.
I watched as she carefully lowered her body into the worn chair across the room. Her blonde hair had been swept up into a perfect bun. Everything about her looked neat and orderly.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Out of it,” I admitted. “This medicine is really messing with my head.”
Dr. Gillian nodded. “That’s understandable.”
“Other than that . . . ” I trailed off.
“Other than that what?” she asked.
I inhaled deeply and exhaled. “Well, the police just found me after being kidnapped for who knows how long and the man responsible for it is apparently dying. So, I might never get any answers. Then, there’s the other person that no one seems to believe ever even existed. But she did! I swear she did!”
My heart started to race in my chest. I tried to take a deep breath, but failed.
“I believe you,” said Dr. Gillian.
My eyes narrowed in on her. “What?”
Resting her chin on her hand, she repeated herself, “I believe you.”
My anxiety melted away like snow on a warm day.
I shifted my body nervously. “Really? Or is this just some type of trick.”
“Why do you think I don’t believe you?” she asked.
Shrugging, I said, “Because no one else does.”
***
After Dr. Gillian left, I collapsed into the hospital bed and closed my eyes. I thought about her recommendations. I’d like you to come in two to three times a week for the next month. We should be able to start cutting down after that, but we have a lot of work to do first.
I shivered as I recalled asking her if she ever thought I would feel normal again. Will you ever be the same girl you were before this event? No. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t create a new normal, one that is just as fulfilling and comforting as the old normal.
Sick of lying down, I swung my legs over the bed and stretched my arms above my head. Time for a shower!
A smile crossed my face as my eyes landed on a plastic shower caddy. My mom must have brought this for me. Next to the caddy, were two outfits, both folded up and stacked neatly.
After turning on the shower, I slipped out of the hospital gown and stepped into the piping hot water. As it cascaded down my back, I pulled out a loofa and my vanilla body wash.
Covering my body in the fragrant bubbles, I closed my eyes and pretended that Easton Pierce had never been born.
***
“Abriana? Are you okay in there?” my mother asked, cracking the bathroom door open.
“Yes, Mom,” I replied. “I’m almost done.”
Standing with my eyes closed, I tried to let the hot water wash away my pain and fear. Failing miserably at both, I finally turned off the tap and wrapped a towel around my body and one in my hair.
Looking at the two outfits, I opted for the sweatpants and t-shirt.
Emerging from the bathroom, I found my mother sitting in the same chair as Dr. Gillian. She believes me, Mom. Why don’t you?
Shaking my head, I pulled the towel off my head and squeezed the water out of my hair. “Thanks for bringing my shower stuff,” I said.
“I thought it might make you feel better.” She reached into her purse. “I thought this might help too,” she said, handing me a cell phone.
My eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
“We got you a new phone,” she explained.
A broad smile spread across my face. “Thank you so much!” I exclaimed, cradling it in my hands. It seems like I haven’t used one of these in forever.
“I do need to warn you though,” my mom said. “You have a lot of voicemails and texts. I don’t want it to overwhelm you.”
I nodded.
“Also,” she said, “someone made a Facebook page for you and your story is all over the news.”
I swallowed hard. “The news?”
She nodded. “There are reporters waiting outside of the hospital. They’ve been there since you first arrived.”
I turned on the phone and watched as the screen lit up. Wow, she wasn’t joking. I scrolled through text messages sent by friends, classmates, and some from numbers I didn’t even recognize.
Tapping on the screen, I opened up a webpage and typed in, “Abriana Vega.” A moment later, the page filled with links to reports of my kidnapping, a page offering a $10,000 dollar reward for my safe return, and one titled, “Easton Pierce: Online Dating Gone Terribly Wrong.” Isn’t that the understatement of the year!
Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, I set the phone down and looked at my mother. “Would you mind if I had a few moments to myself?”
Her brow furrowed. “Sweetheart, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to be by yourself right now?”
“I’m fine. I just need a few moment to myself,” I reassured her.
“Okay,” she said running her thumb across her tightly pressed lips. “I’m going to go get a cup of coffee from the cafeteria. If you need anything, just call me.”
“I will. Thanks, Mom.”
She kissed me on top of the head. “Te amo.”
“Love you, too,” I replied.
Once she left, I reached over and picked up the remote to the small television hanging from the ceiling in the corner of the room. I clicked the On button and waited. Suddenly, my jaw dropped. One of my senior portraits filled the screen.
“Welcome to the six o’clock news. If you haven’t already heard, Abriana Vega has been found,” said a man with wavy black hair and bright white teeth.
“It’s truly wonderful,” said a woman wearing a red dress with a fitted black sweater.
“It certainly is,” said the man with a toothy smile. “We have reports that she is still in the hospital, but doing well.”
The woman nodded. “Remember, if you would like to send Abriana an encouraging message, please stop by the Facebook page her sister made for her. It is called, “Bring Abriana Home!”
The man looked into the camera. “What a loving sister.”
“Yes. She m
ust be so thrilled her sister is back,” said the woman.
The woman put her hand to her ear. “Okay, it seems as though we have breaking news from the hospital. Let’s cut to Don for an update.”
A man stood in front of the hospital holding a microphone and an umbrella. “Thanks, Lauren.” He motioned over his shoulder. “Don Reyes here, reporting from St. Theresa’s Hospital. We have just exclusively learned that Easton Pierce had a life threatening turn earlier today. Witnesses report doctors and nurses entering his room with a crash cart. Although we haven’t received an official statement from his doctors, reports are filtering in that he has in fact recovered from today’s event, and that he is responsive.”
“Responsive?” asked Lauren, the anchorwoman.
“Yes,” said Don. “You’re hearing it first here on WLVS. Reports are coming in that Easton Pierce is awake and reportedly talking to detectives as we speak.”
A muted scream escaped from my lips. Anger, empathy, and a sliver of happiness bounced around inside my body. Easton is alive. He didn’t die. Now he can tell them that there was someone else!
“Any word if he has confessed?” asked the man with the black hair.
“No word of any confessions,” said Don. “But we’ll be here waiting for further updates. Until then, back to you at the studio.”
I pressed the Mute button and rubbed my eyes. I couldn’t believe it . . . Easton Pierce is alive.
Chapter Nineteen
Alexa
I scrubbed my hands with scorching hot water until they were raw. The news headlines ran through my head on a constant reel. Easton Pierce makes a miraculous recovery! Easton Pierce is scheduled to speak with detectives later today. Will he confess? When will the infamous Easton Pierce head to jail?
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. He’s not going to make it to jail. I’m going to kill him first!
Tucking my ponytail up into the navy hat I had stolen from a nearby locker, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The image looking back at me wore a smug smile. The hat matched a one-piece dark blue jumpsuit with a nametag that read, “MarÍ a.”
Don’t mind me, your friendly, non-English speaking janitor.
Pulling the hat down low, I grabbed a wet floor sign and a bucket filled with warm soapy water and a mop.
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