Consume

by Jessica Prince

  She shot up from her chair and I stood with her, holding my hands up in a placating gesture. “Shh. It’s okay. It’s just me, Momma. I’m not trying to take you anywhere.”

  “No! No, no, no, no! You’re with them! You’re with them! Get away from me!”

  I made the mistake of moving closer, reaching out to try and soothe her. I should’ve known better. “Mom, please, just calm down. It’s okay.”

  “Don’t you put your hands on me!”

  The slap to my face came as such a surprise that I stumbled sideways, bumping into the chairs. Before I could right myself she landed a brutal punch, the ring I’d given to her three Mother’s Days ago splitting the skin on my cheekbone open.

  She followed me down as I fell, slapping and punching and kicking as I hit the ground. “I won’t let you take me! I won’t! Iwon’tIwon’tIwon’t!”

  She screamed and raged as the nurses and orderlies struggled to pull her off me and subdue her.

  “It’s okay,” I muttered to Lucille, t00 stunned since that first hit to say anything else as she helped me to my feet. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

  “Shh, darling. Let’s go take a look at that cheek. I think you’ll need ice.”

  I started to argue, looking back over my shoulder as a nurse produced a syringe. They were going to have to knock her out again. I fucking hated that for her. “But I can’t leave her—”

  “Don’t look, sweetheart. You let them take care of her. I got you.”

  “Really, Luce. I’m fine. I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about her.”

  Mom finally settled, her whole body slumping against the orderlies holding her.

  “There, there,” one of them soothed, brushing Mom’s gold locks out of her face. “It’s okay, honey. You’re okay.”

  My eyes burned fiercely. I had to blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “You guys are really good with her,” I stated in a weak, quiet voice. “I wish I could give her even a quarter of the peace you do.”

  Lucille led me into what looked like an employee break room. “Don’t put that on yourself, child,” she admonished, guiding me into a chair and moving to the fridge to grab an ice pack. “This isn’t on your shoulders, Gina. Don’t carry a burden that isn’t yours to carry.”

  “If I had just—”

  “What’d I say?” she snapped in a motherly tone of voice, giving me a scolding look as she placed the ice pack on my cheek. “I don’t want to hear another word of that nonsense.”

  Heaving an exhale that carried the weight of the world, I collapsed back in the chair, replacing her hand with my own to hold the pack in place. “I don’t think I should go on this tour,” I spoke more to myself than to her. “She’s too bad off. I can’t—”

  “Don’t you dare,” Lucille said warningly. “This is your livelihood, darling girl. Not only that, but you need a break.”

  “How can you say that?” My throat clogged with a swell of emotion. “You saw what just happened.”

  “I did, and unfortunately, I’ll probably see it again before the month is through.” She placed her hand on mine, offering me as much comfort as possible. “Saying this hurts my heart, sweetie, but this is your new normal now. You just gotta learn to roll with the punches and keep living your own life the best you can.”

  Batting at a lone tear that broke free, I sniffled and lowered my voice. “It just doesn’t feel right.”

  “That’s ’cause you’re a good girl who loves her momma. She’ll be fine, honey. I’ll make sure of that.”

  I wanted to object, but I knew by the determination in Lucille’s eyes that it would be pointless. “You’ll keep me posted on her while I’m gone, right?”

  She nodded, her face sympathetic. “I will. But you have to promise to live a little for yourself while you’re on this once-in-a-lifetime trip. Deal?”

  I managed to force my lips into a smile that didn’t come close to reaching my eyes. “Deal.”

  One of her eyebrows lifted high on her forehead. “And if you happen to meet a good-looking Italian man, I’d appreciate a picture or two.”

  With that, I actually laughed. “Okay, Lucille. If that happens I’ll send you a picture. But don’t count on it.”

  “A woman can dream, can’t she? I’ve decided I’m gonna start living vicariously through you.”

  I climbed to my feet and hooked my purse over my shoulder. “Then you’re gonna be very, very bored.”

  I swung by my mom’s room to see her one last time, placing a kiss on her cheek as she slept.

  “Love you, Momma,” I whispered with every ounce of sincerity in my body. “I’ll see you when I get back.” Then, as hard as it was, I left her to sleep and headed for my car, praying that she was better by the time I got back.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gina

  “Son of a bitch.” I spotted the truck the moment I pulled into my complex. In comparison to the junkers filling the parking spaces, it was impossible to miss.

  Resigned to another fight I didn’t want to be a part of but couldn’t avoid, I pulled into an available spot in front of my building, turned off my car, and climbed out.

  Killian sat on the top step of my stoop, forearms resting on his thighs. An expensive bright red luggage set rested beside him. “Kill. I’m really not in the mood. Can we not do this today?”

  He rose slowly from the ground, his expression thunderous as he stared down at me. “What. The. Fuck happened to your face?” he bellowed with uncontrolled rage.

  Shit. At the sight of him on my stoop, I’d forgotten all about my face. In her panic, my mom had really done a number on me. The cut on my cheek was already swollen and bruising, I had one black eye, thin scratches across my forehead and chin where her nails accidentally caught me, and a nasty split lip that burned like fire. I looked like I’d ended up on the wrong side of a bar brawl.

  “It’s nothing,” I muttered, gingerly touching my cheek that had gotten the worst of it. “Just an accident. Nothing for you to worry about.”

  He came down the two steps separating us, his already huge presence even more intimidating now that he was looming over me. “Nothing to worry about?” he growled threateningly. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Killian!” I hissed, looking around. “Keep your voice down!”

  “Who the fuck did this? Gimme a goddamn name. I’ll fuckin’ kill ’em.”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Then you better explain, and do it real goddamn fast.”

  “Jeez, you’re such a pain in my ass,” I grumbled, shoving past him so I could unlock my front door. “Get inside already. Last thing I need is my neighbors recognizing you.”

  Surprisingly, he didn’t give me any grief and entered my apartment without another word, dragging the suitcases behind him.

  Slamming the door, I crossed the room toward my dinky little kitchen and tossed my stuff on the counter. After filling a glass with water, I dumped a couple ibuprofen capsules into my palm and downed them, drinking the entire glass. I could already feel a killer headache coming on, and I wanted to fight it back before having to embark on an hours long plane ride the following morning.

  “Start talkin’, Gina. I want to know who the hell hit you, and I want to know right goddamn now.”

  Dropping my hands onto the chipped formica to hold myself up, I pulled in a steadying breath, preparing to have to answer questions I’d been avoiding for a long time now. “It was my mom,” I replied in a painfully quiet voice. “But like I said, it’s not what you think,” I added quickly.

  He looked about two seconds away from breathing fire. “What I think is that I’m gonna take great pleasure out of ruining your bitch of a mom.”

  “No you aren’t!” I cried, rounding the counter and rushing at him. “It wasn’t her fault. Just… stay out of it, Kill. This isn’t any of your business.”

  “Your mom beats on you, and you’re defending her? What kind of sick, twisted Stockholm bullshit
is that?” he shouted in my face.

  “It’s not twisted!” I yelled, standing on my tiptoes. “It was an accident. She’s….” I lowered back down and closed my eyes, rubbing at my throbbing temples as all the fight drained out of me. “She’s sick, Killian.”

  The feel of his fingertips on my jaw made my eyelids shoot open. The storm in his gaze slowly faded, concern taking its place. “I need you to explain that to me, sweetness, ’cause I’m not followin’.”

  There was no way I could get through this conversation without a bit of liquid courage. “You want a beer? I need a beer. Let me just go grab those.”

  I scurried back into the kitchen, whipping the refrigerator door open. I popped the cap on one of the bottles and sucked down half its contents in just a few swallows before pulling out a second for Killian. He took the beer and followed me to the love seat, the only piece of living room furniture I had, and sat beside me.

  “My mom had a stroke six years ago,” I explained. “It was bad. I wasn’t home when it happened, so she didn’t get help in time. Her brain went without oxygen for too long. The damage, it was… it was too late. A doctor explained it to me once, said that the damage to her brain was akin to what a person with advanced Alzheimer’s would have. It couldn’t be reversed. It changed her. She… she has these fits—” My voice broke on a sob I was desperately trying to hold back.

  Killian’s arms came around me, and instead of fighting his embrace, I sank into it, content to take the comfort he was offering while I wallowed in sadness for a few moments. When I finally got a hold of myself enough to finish, I pulled back and looked up at him. “It isn’t her fault. She doesn’t mean to hurt me. She just can’t help it.”

  “Baby,” he whispered, brushing my tears away with his thumb. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I couldn’t take care of her myself,” I admitted, regret and shame burning a hole in my chest. “She has these paranoid delusions. It got to the point that my mom was a danger to herself and those around her, so I had to put her in a home. I wish I could put her somewhere else, but places like that are so expensive. And with all her medical bills….” I didn’t bother finishing that sentence. I knew he got my point. “Now you see why I can’t waste money on shit like a better apartment?” He nodded sullenly. “My mother’s the most important person in my world. She’s all I’ve got, and I don’t even have all of her. Every little bit I get has to be for her.”

  Killian’s hand remained on my face as he asked, “Jesus, sweetness. Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

  Dislodging his hand, I stood and moved several feet away. “Because it’s no one’s business but mine,” I bit out. “I wouldn’t have told you if you hadn’t shown up here unannounced and forced the issue. You think I like talking about this shit? My mom will never be my mom again, and it’s all my fault, because I wasn’t there to get her the help she needed.”

  Killian got to his feet and tried advancing on me, but I held up my hands to stop him. “It’s not your fault,” he insisted with the same determination as Lucille.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I sighed, shaking my head in defeat. “It’s done, and there isn’t anything I can do about it.” That was when I realized I hadn’t asked him the most important questions. “Why are you here?”

  He raked a hand through his hair and moved to the luggage sitting next to the front door. “You’ve been avoiding me the past few days. I got you this, and wanted to make sure you had it before flying out tomorrow.”

  I came closer and ran my fingers along the biggest of the red hard-sided suitcases. I’d looked up luggage like this when I was getting ready for the tour, and had immediately cringed at the price tag.

  “Killian, I can’t take this.”

  “You can. You need it, and this… well, it’s my shitty attempt at an apology.”

  Grabbing my discarded beer from the coffee table, I took another much-needed pull. “You don’t need to apologize to me for anything. Like I said, what or who you do isn’t any of my business.”

  His face fell with displeasure. “So that’s it?”

  “What’s it?” I asked, my chin jerking back in confusion.

  Instead of answering my question, he asked another of his own. “Are you with Marco?”

  God, not this again. “I’m not with anybody,” I replied belligerently.

  “But you’re gonna be.”

  I was done with this conversation. I was done with this entire godforsaken day. It wasn’t even one in the afternoon yet, and I was ready to curl back up in bed and sleep until morning. “You know what? I’m not doing this,” I declared, moving to my front door and grabbing the knob. “My face hurts, my head hurts, and I’ve had a really freaking bad day. I’m not talking to you about Marco, or us, or whatever the hell else is screwing with your head.”

  Killian came to the door and stopped right in front of me. “Okay, Thumbelina,” he said gently, reaching up and brushing against my poor, abused cheek soothingly. “I’ll give you a reprieve. For now. But we aren’t done with this conversation. Not by a fuckin’ longshot.”

  Then he left before I could object, and instead of stressing about his parting words, I decided my best bet was to crawl into bed and sleep the day away.

  And that was exactly what I did.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gina

  Marco: See you soon, bomboncita. Can’t wait to show you around Tokyo.

  I looked from my phone to the empty red luggage propped against the wall across from my bed. I couldn’t bring myself to use it when I packed my bags earlier that morning. It felt too much like caving. If Killian saw me with those suitcases, he’d assume everything between us was fine, and that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Honestly, I didn’t have the first clue what was between us, but what I did know was that it was anything but fine.

  Me: Leaving for the airport now. See you in a little bit!

  Stuffing the phone in my back pocket, I hooked one of my bags over my shoulder, grabbed the handle of that shitty roller case Killian hated, and started for the door, but before I could reach it someone knocked from the other side.

  I opened it to find Killian standing across the threshold. “I thought you might need a ride to the air—what the hell’s that?” He pointed at the suitcase beside me in offense.

  “Kill—”

  “There’s no way that piece of shit’s gonna last this whole trip.”

  “I can’t use the stuff you bought,” I objected. “It’s too much.”

  “For Christ’s sake,” he grumbled, pushing his way into my apartment. “It was a fuckin’ gift, Gina.” He snatched the handle from me and yanked the bag from my shoulder, tossing both onto the bed and grabbing the red luggage from the floor.

  “It’s too expensive,” I continued to fight. “You never should have spent that much money on me.”

  “Jesus, Thumbelina, there aren’t any strings attached. Just accept it and say thank you.” He began transferring everything I’d packed into the new suitcases, not taking the same care I had to fold everything nicely. My clothes would be wrinkled to hell if I didn’t step in to stop him.

  “Okay, okay,” I huffed, moving to shove him out of the way. “I’ll use it. Just let me do it before you ruin everything.”

  I went about refolding everything to fit it in perfectly.

  “Well what do we have here,” Kill said, drawing my attention from arranging my shoes and toiletries to him.

  “Give me that,” I snapped, yanking my black lace panties from his grasp and stuffing them down between a pair of shoes to hide them.

  “Damn, Thumbelina. Are you trying to kill me?”

  Shooting him a look, I finished packing, zipped up my fancy new luggage, and pulled it off the bed. “You know, you didn’t have to come get me. I’m more than capable of getting myself to the plane on time.”

  Killian pulled the bags off the bed and stood them upright. “I wanted to see how you were doing.” He spoke gently, softly r
unning a finger below my cheekbone. The swelling had gone down, but the bruising was darker than the day before. Two small butterfly bandages held the cut on my cheek closed. It would take time, but everything would eventually heal, including the bruises on my heart Mom had inadvertently given me.

  “I know you had a pretty bad day yesterday. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  There was no pity in his eyes, only caring concern, and my appreciation for that worked to soften me. “Thank you,” I replied without any ire. “I’m okay.”

  He started for the door, dragging my stuff behind him. “Did you get a chance to talk to her this morning?” he asked after I locked up and we started down the stairs.

  “I talked to one of the nurses. She’s doing okay. Slept through the night and seems calmer this morning.”

  After tossing my bags in the back of the truck, he turned to me. “If that’s the case, why couldn’t she tell you that instead of a nurse?”

  A sad smile tipped my lips. “She can’t. Remember when I said the damage was like Alzheimer’s?” He nodded slowly. “She doesn’t remember who I am,” I said with a shrug. “Most of the time she doesn’t talk at all. All any of us can do is keep her as comfortable and calm as possible.”

  “Christ, baby,” he grunted before pulling me in for a hug. “I hate that you have to deal with this.”

  I allowed the hug last a little longer, taking comfort wherever I could find it. However, before I could start feeling too sorry for myself, I pulled away and reached for the door handle. “We don’t leave now, we’ll be late.”

  He thankfully let the subject drop, and we loaded into the car and headed out without another word about my mother.

  Halfway to the airport, my phone pinged. When I removed it from my pocket, I saw it was another message from Marco. It didn’t feel right to respond in front of Killian, so I exited out and stuffed the phone into my purse.

  Out of sight, out of mind.

  For everyone but Killian, apparently.