The left side of Jamal's forehead was a living nightmare, which showed how close he'd been to dying. Doctors said it had been a miracle he even survived being shot five times. The bullet that was so close to removing him from this world had been the one that struck his head. It fractured his skull and hit at an odd angle to where fragments of bone caused internal bleeding and swelling. He was in a coma for almost a year. Finally, one day, he woke up and the only thing remaining had been an indent, a discolored scar, and a shattered mind.
He would never be the same.
Seeing Jamal so different than the man I remembered wrecked me. As hard as it had been, I knew I had to start the process of healing and moving forward. Dwelling on the past, no matter how much I blamed myself, wouldn't do a bit of good for him or me. I could apologize to Jamal, ask for forgiveness, but he probably wouldn't understand my heavy admission of guilt. I had been told his level of understanding was undetermined but likely infantile. He remembered people, but that was about it. Seeing it for myself for the first time all these years later left me at a loss of words. What was I supposed to say to him? How could I make it better? I couldn't, fate cheated me out of atoning for my mistakes, for dragging him so far down that Death Himself kept a constant grip on one of his ankles.
Trisha stood and hugged the book to her chest. She tried to hide her surprise with a firm upper lip, but I didn't miss the collection of tears in her eyes. I couldn't look at her; her delight at seeing me rocked my core harder than the anxiety raddling in my rib cage. Among the sadness swarming me, there was a thrill for the first time since I got out of prison. She didn't look at me in disappointment. I focused on Jamal, who lay on the bed waiting for some acknowledgement to his presence. His hands folded in awkward positions and he seemed to struggle with his motor skills. However, his eyes were steady and focused on me without shifting away.
I hesitantly made my way toward Jamal. The hardest thing to do was cracking a smile past the unshed tears pooling in my fucking eyes. I did this…me. Fuck everyone trying to tell me not to take the blame for this. Vashton was right; I had to own up to it, accept it and go forward in life with this tattooed on my soul.
I leaned over and patted him on the shoulder. "Hey, buddy."
Jamal smiled up at me, a genuine smile of pure happiness. He muttered something that sounded close to my name, but he was exhausted, I could tell as he sank back on the bed and huffed out a ragged breath. After a moment of us smiling silently at each other, Jamal turned away and looked at Trisha in glee and pointed one gangly finger at me.
"I know. I told you he would come." Trisha smiled down at Jamal and then walked up to me. Her presence was always a strong magnet sucking me away from the despair. "Thanks for coming, it means a lot to me—us."
I nodded silently, not trusting myself to respond verbally. The heavy knot in my throat burned like a bitch, and if I spoke in that moment, I didn't trust that my voice wouldn't sound like an adolescent boy's. I was going to fucking lose it if I didn't rein in my emotions. All of the pain, anger, and disappointment had been something I'd come to expect from Jamal, even knowing he couldn't give it. He was happy to see me for fuck sake. Now that he was void of any negativity and it left me to hammer the blame harder on myself.
"Why is he strapped?"
Trisha laid a hand on my arm to try and soothe me. I wondered if she could tell I was barely hanging on. "His emotions run high and he can't really control his limbs. When he has…fits, we think its nightmares or memories from what happened that night, or anger at being unable to understand the past. Or its possibly rage from what happened, we just aren't sure. I mean, he is usually so happy, but his fits are random and violent."
"Yeah." My throat was dry and my voice coarse. It was all I could do to acknowledge her words. Was there still hope for him to improve and understand?
Trisha squeezed my arm, reassuring me a little. "I try to bring him a new book every week so he can hear the words and look at the pictures. It calms him some." We both observed Jamal once again; his eyes blinked a few times before closing. He yawned and turned slightly away from us as he tried to adjust comfortably on his side. Trisha pulled me across to the corner of the room. She placed a hand on my chest and looked me dead in the eyes for a few moments before whispering, "Thanks again for coming. I know it wasn't easy for you."
Goddamn right it wasn't easy.
I ran a hand through my hair, the tremble in my hand evident as the wave of anxiety finally closed in around me. I focused on Jamal's snoozing frame, recalling how heavy this was for me. How I hadn't told anyone the extent of what actually happened that night.
I had to tell her why it was so hard for me. "It was my damn fault we were out that night. Jamal was looking for a way out of dealing. I…I could see it. He was starting to get hesitant to take on jobs. I selfishly kept him in the game. I feel like I robbed two lives from him, the past and the future." I didn't dare risk a glance at her. I kept my eyes on Jamal, or else I could never get it all out. If I couldn't say it to him, I could tell it to the person that meant the most to him. "I'm so…I am so fucking sorry. For everything. It should be me strapped on the bed." She probably wished it as well, but the goodness in her would never say it aloud. Hell, the mental anguish I put myself through all these years grossly resembled the emptiness coating his room.
Trisha's small hand moved up to my cheek and turned my face toward hers. She stepped closer. "Don't ever let me hear you say that again. Things turned out this way because that's the way it was meant to be. Feeling sorry for him doesn't do anyone a bit of good. Look at me." She waited until I met her gaze again. "Stop running from this and accept it, Rysten. Accept him the way he is now just like you did back then. If you love him, you'll be his best friend now more than ever. Be in his life when he needs family the most. He needs you and…I do to."
Trisha slipped her hand away, and the absence of her warm palm reminded me of the last few months when she removed herself from my life. I never wanted to live like that again. The misery blanketed me every night without Trisha being a permanent fixture to curb the loneliness. I was close to drifting out where no one could pull me back. No one except her.
All this time, I'd been hiding from what I considered the horrors of my life. I made them into big scary things when I needed to embrace the changes fate threw at me. I made a promise to Trisha when Jamal was in his medically induced coma before I was carted off to jail. We had stood over his bed, my own bullet wounds still seeping through the gauze. I saw her face, the hopelessness, and I knew things with Jamal would change forever. I swore on everything that I would stick by their side no matter what. Then when I heard how he mentally changed, the guilt and inner turmoil made me hide. I stumbled on the promise, but I was here now, ready to make good on my word. Though I was late, a dark part of me knew, in order to heal, I'd have to come in time.
Trisha slipped her hand into mine. The soft caress of her thumb across my skin was a reminder there was beauty in sadness. Even more important, we had something profound in our hearts to share with each other. The rising hope and admiration growing between us made my heart swell. There was still a lot of healing to do, but together, I knew it could be done. I looked down at Trisha, her gaze fixed on mine. She was so full of hope toward me that I couldn't breathe for a moment. This woman had more faith than anyone I ever knew, and she placed a hell of a lot in me.
"You know, we've played this cat and mouse game since we were kids. You brushed my subtle advances off all the time." It was refreshing to change the subject now that my shoulders felt a little lighter.
She blushed, averting her gaze, but quickly brought it back to meet mine. "Your advances were anything but subtle."
We shared a quiet laugh and I squeezed her hand. "Yeah, but I think this moment is when I'm going to prove I'm good enough to be in your life. These last few months without you have been hell, I'm not even going to lie. It's time for me to turn around and face the people I've been running from." I gla
nced at Jamal. "I owe him the best quality friendship I can give, and I owe you everything for not giving up on me or him." I kissed her forehead and relished in the familiar, calming scent of her perfume. Fuck, I missed her. "You've been my rock, rather you realize it or not, Trisha."
I looked down at Trisha her staring up at me so intensely. "What I'm trying to say is… I want you. All of you, I always have and always will. I want to do this with you. You'll have to help me because the past is all-consuming and it threatens to eat me whole. The guilt is almost too much at times."
"The past doesn't matter anymore. The truth is that you love Jamal. You're here for him now, which means the craziness of that night means nothing in this moment. What means everything is you're standing here by our side and want to be a part of our lives."
"Yeah, and for forever. No bullshit or running this time." I watched the realization of my words bring a smile and she hugged me hard enough to where I swear I could almost feel her heartbeat against my chest. The thing that happened to Jamal broke our hearts, left them in half pieces. But together, I knew we could forge a new whole heart strong enough to tackle any dark cloud of sadness looming in the distance.
That's all I ever wanted, a whole heart again, and with Trisha I would have that.
She was my forever.
About Author
Arissa Alexston is a being of the night and enjoys writing a menagerie of characters that reign over the various worlds created for them. Her interracial stories sway toward spicy contemporary romance and often feature southern males that cuss like sailors and are as cuddly as Tasmanian devils. Arissa dreams of living some place exotic, but she lives in the lower region of the States with her supportive family.
Coming Soon from Arissa Alexston
Numb (Running Duke, #2)
Gable Duke's problems began with a twisted childhood and end with whatever's strong enough to numb the pain. Gabe was sure he lost any chance at happiness when his ex-girlfriend left, and he's been flying high and reckless ever since. In a last ditch effort to stay drug-free after rehab, he's gone back to his Aunt's house. But it's co-inhabited by a college upperclassman by the name of Nadia Jackson.
Gable's sure he'll ruin Nadia just like everything else. However, she might be his wake-up call to keep his life straight. Nadia will either stick by his side through this tumultuous period or worse, she might rue the day she ever met Gable Duke.
Bullet (Running Duke Book 1) Page 6
