by Jamie Canosa
Tossing the cherry on top of my hissy-fit sundae, I dropped the dishes back onto the table and heard one crack. My mother’s eyes grew dark and I knew I was digging myself a hole I couldn’t get out of, but I couldn’t make myself stop. Almost a week without a word from Caulder was rubbing my nerves raw.
I gave him what he wanted. I took the food, the car. Exposed my inner parasite. And what? Nothing. I was such a fool. Nothing was worth this.
The last five days, I’d floated through my life, existing to no one as anything more than a doormat. A barmaid. A scapegoat. The Parks were the only ones who ever treated me like a person. Without them, I was . . . this. And that pissed me off.
“Get your own damn beer. And turn the TV down.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and fisted them to hide how hard they were shaking.
My head screamed for me to retreat. To run to my room and hide. After all, that’s what I was good at. But my broken, masochistic heart wasn’t finished. I was letting down my shields. Stowing my defenses. Let them do their worst. Maybe if I could feel all the pain at once, I could overcome it quicker. Or maybe it would just break me once and for all and I could be done with it. Either alternative was preferable than the way I felt now.
“If you’re going to be a party pooper why don't you just get the hell out?” Michael punctuated his point by throwing an empty beer can at my head.
I don't know why I was surprised when all my mother did was laugh. It wasn't too long ago that that was exactly what I'd expect her to do. “God she's no fun at all. It's hard to believe she has any of us in her.”
I chose to take that as a compliment. “Mom—”
“Listen to your father. Either shut the hell up or get the hell out. I wasted enough years on you. I’m not letting you steal anymore, you greedy parasite.”
“It's freezing out there.”
“Not my problem. I'm so sick of your ungrateful, whiny ass. You always have to ruin everything. You ruined my entire life. Get out!”
“Mom . . .” I had nowhere else to go.
“Get. Out!”
This time the flying alcohol container was made of glass and I heard it smash on the wall behind me as I ducked out of its sloppy trajectory.
Snapping up my coat, I stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door loud enough behind me to rattle the old frame. Their dismissal wasn’t what I craved. I needed their vicious words, their hurtful truths. I needed them to tear me up until nothing mattered anymore. But I couldn’t even get that much from them. Instead, all I got was indifference. And somehow that was worse.
Where was I supposed to go? It's not like I had any money, or my phone, or the car keys. I was stuck. At least the spare key to the apartment was under the mat. I just needed to wait until they fell asleep—or passed out—then I could let myself back in. However long that might take.
Traipsing down the stairs, I let anger cloud my better judgment. Not a smart move when traversing dangerous territory. I stepped without looking, using more force than necessary to make a point—to who? me?—and felt the stair give way.
It was too late. There was nothing I could do. With my hands stuffed deep in my pockets, I couldn’t even break my fall as I pitched forward and tumbled down the rest of the flight. Head over heels until I slammed into the hard tiled floor at the bottom.
I cried out as a sharp pain sliced through my ankle, radiating throughout my entire left leg. Rolling onto my back, I folded my knee up to my chest and gingerly grabbed at it. Perfect. It was already beginning to swell.
Dammit. Why did I always have to take a bad situation and make it ten times worse? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Gritting my teeth against the throbbing pain, I drew in a few deep breaths. It wasn’t broken. It couldn’t be broken.
When the initial shock wore off, I readjusted to a sitting position and thought for about half a second that I could hobble my way back upstairs. That thought was buried deep the moment I tried putting the slightest weight on my foot. I wasn’t going anywhere. Not without some help. And I was out of options as to where to find that.
Blaming the tears in my eyes on the pain, I shuffled on hands and knees onto the narrow ledge running under the mailboxes across the wall. Anything to get off the cold, sticky floor. Bitter wind seeped in through the glass lobby door and wafted over me as I tucked my knees up to my chest, wrapping as much of them as I could cover with my coat.
The pain lessened as numbness crept over my extremities. My wet shirt grew stiff and frigid. After a while, shivers started wracking my body, but it was when they stopped that I knew I was really in trouble. I just didn't care. All I wanted was to curl up and go to sleep. When I woke, this would all be a nightmare. My ankle would feel better and it would be safe to go home again.
Maybe I never would have met those Parks boys, at all.
***
“Jade? Christ, Jade, what are you doing down here?” Rough hands shook me awake, jostling my sore ankle until I groaned in pain.
“Jade! Wake up! Look at me.”
I didn’t want to wake up. It didn’t feel like a dream yet.
“Dammit, your lips are blue. How long have you been sitting here?”
But then again, maybe it did. Because when I forced my eyes open a slit it was Caulder’s face staring down at me.
“C-Cal? What are you d-doing here?” Damn, I was cold.
“You didn’t answer your phone.”
“It’s u-upstairs.”
“Why aren’t you?”
“I-I . . .” It was hard to piece everything together. The fight, the fall, the stairs. I’d never gone back upstairs. I was supposed to go back upstairs. “They . . . k-kicked me out. I f-fell as-sleep.”
“Okay.” His Adam’s apple bobbed before my eyes. “Alright. I got you. Come on.”
His arms went around me, scooping me from the platform and I clenched my jaw against the pained cry threatening to break loose as my injured ankle swung freely in the air.
“Arms around me, Angel.”
I tried. I swear I tried, but I couldn’t. They felt like a couple of dead weights dangling from my body. “I c-can’t.”
“Okay. It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” He shifted my weight and picked up his pace until we were jogging toward his car. After buckling me in, his fingers rested on my hands. “Your finger tips are blue, too. You're practically frozen.”
The reality of the situation hit me hard and fast. “It wasn’t sup-posed to be that l-l-long. I f-fell asleep.”
“That’s because of the cold. It drains the energy right out of you. Makes you tired.”
All but hood-sliding his way to the driver’s side, he dropped behind the wheel and snapped every heat vent in my direction.
“I’m exha-hausted.”
“Well, don’t fall asleep on me.” He cast another worried look in my direction and pressed the gas a little harder. “Just hang on ’til we get to the hospital.”
“No!” Sudden fear clogged my throat making my difficult breathing nearly impossible. “No, no . . . no ho-hospital.”
“Jade . . . You need to see a doctor. You could be—”
“No . . . hospital . . . Cal.” I took the time to make sure the words came out perfectly clear.
His hands shifted around the wheel, but he eased off the accelerator. “Angel . . .”
“Please, C-Cal. I don’t ha-have insu-surance. I can’t afford i-it.”
“If money’s the issue—”
I stopped him before he could even go there. “Please, Cal. You p-promised.”
His jaw hardened as he braked for a stop light and we sat there staring at each other long after it turned green.
“Dammit, Angel. You’re killing me here.” Throwing on his blinker, he turned left toward his house and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Fourteen
“Eyes open, Jade.”
I hadn’t even realized they were slipping shut again, the motion of him carrying me upstairs to his room and the warmth
of his blankets tucked tightly around me, lulling me to sleep.
“Keep looking at me. I wanna see those pretty eyes.” Cal slipped out his cell and fear crept up my spine as I watched him dial.
“Wh-who are you ca-calling?” I was afraid he’d changed his mind and was calling an ambulance to come and get me.
“My mom. She’s out of town, but she might know what to do. Mom.” Caulder’s focus shifted to the phone call and mine began to drift. “I need your help . . .” His words seemed hushed and far away as they spoke.
“Eyes open.” The sudden change of volume had me following his command to find him right in front of my face. “C’mon, Jade. Stay with me.”
“Yeah. She’s awake.” Talking to his mother again. My sluggish brain was having a hard time keeping up. “She’s refusing to go . . . No, Mom, I can’t. She doesn’t want to go. I can’t do that to her . . . I know that, but I— Hold on. I’ll go check.
“I will be right back. Do not fall asleep on me.” I could only assume that was meant for me. I did the best I could, but the exhaustion was like a physical force dragging me under.
I knew I'd almost fallen asleep again when Caulder’s hoisting me into a sitting position roused me. “Hands up.”
Gritting my teeth against the shooting pain in my ankle, I tried again to make my arms work with not much better results.
“Okay. Here we go.” Caulder helped me lift my arms, one at a time, and carefully slid them free of my coat and sweater. I didn't even have the brain power to wonder why. My jeans went next, joining my shoes and the rest in a heap on the floor. I was left in nothing but my bra and undies as he tucked me back in. Any other time I would have been mortified. Now I was just grateful for the warm blanket. “Jade?”
“Hmm?”
“I've got a few heating pads here were going to use to try and get your body temp back up.”
“Mmhmm.” I honestly didn't care what he did as long as I never had to leave that bed again.
The moment the first pad made contact with the back of my knee, I cried out. It scorched my skin like fire.
“What?” Caulder jerked back as though I'd burned him. “What's wrong?”
“T-Too hot.”
He snapped up his cell again. “She said it’s too hot. It’s burning her . . . Mmhmm. Okay. Hang on.”
For the thirty seconds he was gone, all I wanted was for him to come back. I didn't need the hearing pads. I needed him.
“Cal?”
“I'm right here, Angel.” I reached for him feebly and he took my hand. “I'm right here. I got something to wrap the pads. It should protect your skin. It's so cold right now it can't handle direct contact.”
He held up a pillow case and I watched him wrap the small single use snap-and-go pad in it. This time when it touched the back of my knee, it gave off a comforting warmth.
Repeating the process three more times, he added pads to my other knee and both armpits.
“Okay, that's better.” He had his phone pressed to his ear again and some of the stress had eased from his face. “ . . . Uh huh. Okay. I'll call . . . Thanks, Mom.”
By the time he hung up, my body had already begun to warm.
“How are you feeling?”
I nodded. It felt good, except with the returning warmth came the violent shivers again. My body was so worn out that they physically hurt, jostling my ankle until it screamed in protest. A high pitched whine escaped my clamped lips and Caulder slid onto the mattress over the blanket.
“Okay. It's okay.” His hands rubbed roughly up and down one of my arms and then the other. “You're gonna be okay. Just hang in there.”
"Caaal.” I was whining. I knew it, but I couldn’t stop myself. “It hurts.”
Cursing out loud, he ran both hands through his hair, anchoring them at the back of his head. “You should have let me take you to the hospital. We can still go. Please, let me take you—”
“No. No hospital.”
“Jade . . .” If indecision had a look, it was the one plastered all over Caulder’s face in neon lettering.
“Please, C-Cal.”
“Goddammit. Fine.” Grabbing ahold of the hem of his shirt, he tugged it over his head. I wasn’t seeing much through my barely open eyes, but I couldn’t miss that. Completely bare chested, he reached for the blanket covering me.
“What are you doing?”
“Body heat. I’m trying to warm you up quicker, but it’ll only help if you can actually feel it. It’s not going to do much good through this heavy comforter.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Jade . . .” His fingers paused, wrapped loosely around the edge of the blanket. “You can say no. I swear to you I'm not doing anything but trying to get you warm, but you can say no. If you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable, you say it. Right now.”
He waited for me to tell him to stop. The thing was . . . I didn't want him to stop. “It's okay. I t-trust you.”
“Don't say that.” With a burst of cold air, he lifted the cover and slid underneath, leaving nothing more between us than the worn, cotton material of my bra.
It was a testament to the condition I was in that not even that bothered me. “Why n-not?”
“Because if I deserved your trust I'd have you in a hospital bed, instead of mine, right now.”
His hand settled over my bare chest and my entire body went solid.
“We have to warm your heart, Angel. Blood recedes to the core of your body to keep your heart warm and beating when you get really cold. That’s why your fingers and toes go numb first. If we can warm your heart on our own, then your blood can move back out and take care of the rest of you.” The entire time he explained, he rubbed circles over my chest.
Whatever he was doing, it was working. I could feel warmth beginning to travel beneath my skin and my body was beginning to relax. “Please, Cal, can I go to sleep now?”
“Let’s see how you’re doing, first.” He reached for the thermometer on the bedside table and I felt it brush across my forehead. “Your temperature’s coming back up and you’ve stopped shivering. Your breathing’s back to normal. Let me just call Mom to be sure, but I think you’re going to be alright.”
Cal shifted away from me and panic reared its ugly head.
“Wait!” I was being foolish and needy, but I was too tired, too worn out and desperate, to care about reason. “Don’t go.”
The softness in his eyes was almost too much to bear. His warm body settled beside mine and his arm slithered underneath me. With one movement he scooped and rolled me until I was half lying on top of his solid chest, the sound of his heart beating steadily beneath my cheek. I braced my sore leg for impact, but it landed softly on the sheets between his.
“I’m right here, Angel.”
I felt him squirm, fishing his phone from his pocket and heard him dialing. Then something brushed over my forehead again, and this time I didn’t think it was a thermometer.
I was out before he ever spoke a word.
***
When morning broke, I woke to find myself alone beneath the covers. Caulder sat hunched over on the edge of the mattress.
“Hey.” Painfully aware of my lack of clothing, I used my good foot to scoot up against the headboard and pulled the blanket up to my chin. “Thanks. For last night.”
“Don’t.” I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to. Still bare from the waist up, I could see the way each of the muscles in his back went rigid with tension.
I proceeded with caution. “Don’t, what?”
“Don’t you dare thank me for that.”
“I don’t . . . understand.”
Finally he shifted around to look at me and I almost wished he hadn’t. Pain warred with anger in his eyes. All of it bordered with thick, dark rings of exhaustion. “You needed a doctor last night. Real medicine. A friggin’ hospital. Not some cheap-ass heating pads and warm hugs.”
“But I wouldn’t let you—”
“Tha
t’s the problem, Jade.”
“Cal . . .”
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“Can’t do what?” I reached for him, but the pain splintering from my injured ankle brought me up short.
“This. Us.” The misery swirling in his eyes cut deep. “You and me. Whatever this is. Wherever it was heading. I can’t, anymore. I’m sorry. I thought I could, but I can’t. I’m just not strong enough.”
“But . . .” Wherever this was heading? Where was this heading? I was suddenly desperate to know. “Why?”
“Because . . .” His solid jaw turned to granite as he blinked away the dampness in his eyes. “I lied to you. The car and the food weren’t enough. It’ll never be enough. I’ll never stop wanting to take care of you. But you won’t let me in. You refuse to let me help you.”
“I did let you help me. Let you see the real me . . . the leech. And you—”
“Who said that to you?” Caulder’s lips parted in shock. And loathing. “Your mother? Jade, you have to believe me when I tell you I want to help you. You are not a leech.” His words rung with conviction, but as he spoke I watched his face melt into defeat. “But you won’t believe that, will you? You can’t. Not until you find a way to shut out all that bullshit your mother’s filled your head with. It doesn’t matter what I say. Her voice will always drown mine out.”
Because you’re damaged goods.
“I can’t live like this anymore. I had to watch my brother suffer right in front of me because there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.” He’d inserted the knife, deep and clean. And now, he twisted it. “This is worse. Because there is something I can do. Only you won’t let me.”
“You’re such a hypocrite, Cal!” My heart pounded inside of my chest. I’d never yelled at anyone. Ever. In my whole life. But I was so angry. And hurt. I hurt everywhere. My ankle was tender and swollen. My head throbbed with the rapid beat of my pulse. My entire body ached like I’d just completed a triathlon. But above all, I was afraid. Desperately terrified of what I was watching slip through my fingers. “You say I won’t let anyone in, won’t let anyone help. But what about you? Who do you let in?”
