by Reid, B. B.
“You what,” I snapped. I could barely hear my voice or thoughts over the roaring in my head.
“I didn’t have it.” She shifted on her feet as she looked everywhere but at me. “I-I got an abortion.”
“Then tell me,” I started as I backed her into the island behind her. I could feel my control slip to the point of no return. It was her body, so it was her decision, but I was pissed as hell that she let me chase her all that time for no reason at all. I stopped wanting Emily the second I found out she cheated. My only reason to stay had been my kid. “Why the fuck are you are here?”
“Because I lo—”
“You used me!” I exploded before she could finish. I didn’t want to hear those words from her. It only reminded me that I was still waiting to hear them from Braxton. I knew she felt it, but she wasn’t done making us sorry. I once told her if she wanted our respect she’d have to make us listen. She was literally taking my advice to heart. “You preyed on my weaknesses to get what you wanted, and then you threw me away when I got a damn clue. How the hell is that love?”
“Is that what they told you?” she snapped, referring to Houston and Loren.
I chuckled as I looked off. After five years of hunting her down, it was amazing how little I gave a shit now. All I wanted was to get Emily out of my sight so that I could find Braxton.
I didn’t care.
I just…I didn’t give a damn.
None of it mattered anymore.
Emily didn’t matter anymore.
There was no baby, which would have been my only tie to her. I was equally relieved and disappointed. I didn’t know how to feel about not being a father, after all. I just knew that as far as Emily was concerned…I was free.
I wanted to find Braxton and celebrate. Maybe put a baby in her instead.
Yeah…
I liked that idea so much more.
“Thanks for stopping by, Emily. Let me show you the door.” I turned away to do just that.
“Show me the—wait…are you kidding me?” she screeched, forcing me to face her again. “That’s it? You’re kicking me out?”
“Yup,” Houston and Loren said at the same time. “See ya.”
She curled her lip at them. I couldn’t believe I once thought she was beautiful. She was attractive still, but I wasn’t attracted. Honestly, I didn’t understand how she ever got my dick hard in the first place.
My ex-wife was evil as fuck.
“Jericho—”
“Not interested,” I cut her off.
“Well, I’m not leaving.”
I sighed and looked at my friends, dismissing Emily altogether. I didn’t even care enough to force her out. “Have either of you tried calling Braxton?”
I knew she must have been at Laine’s by now, but Emily being here had me paranoid and on edge. We never did figure out the noise that woke us or how Emily had found us or even gotten through the gate.
Wordlessly, Houston lifted his phone. He’d been the only one smart enough to grab his.
I started to pace as he dialed Braxton. Emily didn’t say a word, and surprisingly, neither did Loren. I was still walking back and forth when my gaze caught the damage on the wall near the entrance.
Was that a hole?
Just as I headed toward it to inspect it closer, the sound of a phone ringing filled the room.
It sounded like Braxton’s.
“What the fuck?” Loren barked.
Turning to face them, I found Emily holding Loren at gunpoint while waving Braxton’s phone in the air.
“As I was saying,” she taunted, “I’m not going anywhere.”
The look Loren gave me told me he was more annoyed at the inconvenience than afraid for his life. “I told you not to marry her.”
“Shut up! Just shut up!” Emily screamed. “This is all your fault! You ruined everything!” She walked up to him with a vicious smile. “So how about I kill you first? You can join your little slut and rest in pieces.”
The irritation left’s Loren’s face until there was nothing left.
Only the sheet of ice that seemed to cover the room.
“Where is she? What did you do?” Houston asked her calmly.
I knew he was anything but calm. We were all just biding our time. The problem with Emily was that she was too damn sure she already had the upper hand. Gun or no gun, there were three of us and one of her. She’d turned her back on me, and now we already had her surrounded.
Loren would take that bullet if he had to.
For Braxton.
For us.
I just prayed it didn’t come to that.
“In hell by now, I suppose. I bashed her skull in and left her bleeding.”
I felt my knees buckle at her announcement.
The breath that rushed out of my chest caused me to tremble violently.
What Emily was telling us couldn’t be true. No way Braxton was dead. It wasn’t possible. My heart wouldn’t continue to beat even for a moment after hers stopped. I believed it so much I held on to that irrational hope.
“Sweet ride she was driving too,” Emily continued to taunt. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind that I borrowed it considering she’s dead and all.”
“Emily,” Loren said with a humorless chuckle. He smiled at the ceiling, and I knew he was close to losing it. “Pull that trigger right now, and hope you kill me.”
I knew it wasn’t simply a threat.
He wanted to die.
If Braxton were truly dead, neither of us would live longer than it took to get our revenge.
“You should kill us all,” I told her. She turned to face me like I knew she would. The gun was no longer on Loren. It was pointed at me where it belonged. “If you don’t, there will be nowhere you can run. You thought I was relentless before? I won’t stop, I won’t rest, and I won’t eat until I’ve buried you, bitch.”
“Tell us where she is,” Houston advised her. “Give yourself a head start.”
“I don’t believe you,” she told me while ignoring my friends. “You won’t let them hurt me over her. It’s obvious you love me more.”
I tilted my head to the side. There wasn’t anger in my tone when I spoke. Just genuine bafflement and curiosity. “Why is that?”
“Because you would have never shared me with them. I make you jealous. She doesn’t.”
“Yet he wouldn’t hesitate to push you in front of a train,” Loren deadpanned.
“Not to mention,” Houston added, “I would rather stick my dick in a garbage disposal.”
She switched her aim to Houston, who didn’t flinch, but I did. I didn’t want my friends to be hurt over my mistakes. I might have already lost Braxton. I couldn’t handle losing them too.
“I didn’t love you.” Emily kept her gun trained on Houston as she cut her gaze toward me. “I was in love with filling a void, and you were the only one willing. You used me, but I used you too,” I said, recalling Braxton’s confession about Jacob Fried. I now understood why she wasn’t convinced she was wholly innocent. Emily and I had destroyed each other in vain, searching for what was never there. “I lied, I stole, and I hurt people for you, but it was never enough because I wasn’t enough. There were limits to what I would do for you, and you were too empty to fill my cup.”
Emily’s hand shook when she aimed the gun my way again. I gave Houston and Loren a look not to say another goddamn word. I couldn’t risk them. I wouldn’t.
“And you think Braxton will complete you?” She scoffed with a sardonic laugh.
“She already has.”
That made her smile drop.
I could see the hysteria in her eyes rising even as she fought to retain control. “You gave me limits, but how far are you willing to go for her, Jericho? Are you willing to die?”
She thought she was taunting me, testing me, and putting me in my place. Emily truly didn’t know me anymore.
“Yes.” There was no hesitation. “Tell them where to find her. Let them go, a
nd then pull the trigger.”
I kept my gaze on Emily, but I could see Houston and Loren shift. I knew they were looking at each other and silently forming a plan. Because they hadn’t given in to the inevitable yet—the truth that there was only one way we were getting to Braxton.
One of us would have to go down.
“I cannot believe you,” Emily said as tears, real tears, fell. “I was there for you! She wasn’t! You were supposed to love me.”
“That’s not her fault, Em. It’s mine. I should have waited. Braxton was out there, but I was too busy pretending with you.”
“Pretending? Oh, yeah? Well, she’s dead now, so you can go be with that bitch.”
I wasn’t looking at Emily when she aimed for my heart. I was staring at my friends and memorizing their faces as they rushed to stop Emily before she could pull the trigger.
Too late.
Where was I?
Everything hurt. Everything.
I slowly lifted my hand and whimpered my frustration when it seemed to take all of my energy and concentration too.
Had it always been this hard?
I didn’t think so.
My eyes were still closed, and I didn’t want to open them. I couldn’t be sure of what I’d find. I was slowly becoming aware of all the telltale signs—the beeping machines, the antiseptic, the bed underneath me, the bandaging my stiff fingers found wrapped around my head, and the sensor clamped on my finger.
Hospital.
I was in a hospital.
And I couldn’t remember why.
I searched for my name. Another sound of distress, louder now, ripped from me when I couldn’t find it.
“Baby?” a voice croaked. It was masculine, cultured, and full of disbelief. Or was that hope? He sounded a little groggy, too, like he’d been sleeping. Had I woken him?
I know you.
But I didn’t know me.
I recognized his voice, but I couldn’t remember his name.
Or mine.
“Braxton?” This voice was different—melodious and strong. I recognized him too. He’d make a wonderful vocalist.
And now I knew my name.
Braxton.
I was Braxton.
How did I get here?
Why was I here?
I listened to the chairs scrape the floor when they hurriedly rose, and then their soft footfalls coming closer as I waited for the answer that never came. I fell asleep before they could reach me, and I welcomed the darkness.
Being awake was just too hard.
A baby was crying.
I frowned and flinched when the sound reached a high-pitch. It pierced my bruised skull and already aching brain. I couldn’t stop my groan.
“Why don’t you take Braxen out into the hall until he settles?” my mother suggested immediately after.
My heart started racing at the sound of her voice. I quickly grabbed for her name and rejoiced when it came. Amelia Fawn.
My mother’s name was Amelia, and she was here.
“Okay,” my sister said with a reluctant sigh. I heard her stand and quickly leave with her baby.
Rosalie.
My baby sister had come. She’d had her son a few months ago, and she named him after me.
I remembered.
Or at least…I was starting to.
I still didn’t know why or how long I’d been here.
My lips quivered at the possibilities. My muscles tensed, ice crept up my fingertips, goose bumps peppered my skin, and my heart pounded so hard it made my chest hurt.
I couldn’t be sure of what any of it meant, though.
Because the phantom smell of copper that always told me when I was afraid was missing. Nothing lingered in the air as my body tried to warn me of my rising panic.
Nothing at all.
So I passed out again.
“Braxton?” my mother called out to me. She was still here, and I was once again wondering how long it had been.
I didn’t answer right away.
I was too busy trying to recall basic motor functions like opening my eyes.
They’d never felt so heavy.
Eventually, I managed to force my lids to part, only to snap them shut again to shield them from the bright light.
“I’ll get the doctor,” my father announced before leaving the room.
He was here too? I thought he hated me. I didn’t know how I felt about his presence because there were no tastes or smells to tell me.
I whimpered.
I didn’t understand this new reality, but I also wasn’t sure if I wanted to go back. It was too soon to tell.
One step at a time.
I forced my eyes open again and kept them pried.
Who died?
It was my first thought when I looked around the room.
There were flowers.
Everywhere.
All different kinds.
No roses, though, thank God.
The hospital room looked like a florist shop. What the hell? My mother smiled down at me, unaware of where my attention was fixed and the confusion marring my brow.
“Welcome back, Braxton.”
“W—” I swallowed when I found speech difficult. Why was my mouth so dry? As soon as I lifted my head, the room began to spin, so I forced it back onto the pillow, closed my eyes, and waited for the dizziness to pass.
“It’s okay. Take your time,” my mother coaxed. “You’ve been out of it since yesterday morning.”
Hearing that I’d only lost a day helped a little, but it wasn’t enough. I still couldn’t remember what happened or why. All I had to go on was how much it hurt.
So much, I wondered how I was still alive.
“You were attacked,” Mom finally told me. I looked into her brown eyes and saw the tear that fell. “Someone found you and brought you here.”
Those words immediately sparked a memory.
A flash of white hair, a bat, the smiling face of a stranger, and a name I knew but couldn’t recall.
I tried to sit up.
Fuck. Too fast.
It felt like my brain was pushing against my broken skull. I cried out in pain before lying back down.
“Braxton, you have to take it easy,” my mother scolded. “You almost died.” When my eyes slowly opened once more, I took in my mother in her Sunday finest. “I almost lost you.”
It sounded like a plea to not scare her again, and I paused.
She actually cared?
It was a cruel thought, but a true one. I honestly didn’t believe she would.
“I’m…sorry.”
It was the best I could do so soon after gaining consciousness.
I also couldn’t think of a response that wouldn’t hurt her the way she’d hurt me or disappoint her, as I’d done countless times before.
Amelia and I weren’t just different.
We were opposing ends of an unbreakable spectrum.
Neither of us would budge.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said as she rearranged the bouquet on my bedside table. It was an excuse not to meet my eyes. “But you are my daughter, Braxton.”
Just not the one you wanted.
I couldn’t even nod without hurting my head, so I gave no reaction at all.
“You were too young to remember, but these were your favorite,” she casually informed me. I watched her toy with the short, purple petals on the long stems. “We took you to so many doctors, heard so many opinions. No one could figure out what was wrong. Phantosmia was the best diagnosis they could give, but they couldn’t figure out what was causing the symptom. We tried therapy, and they swore it was just a phase you’d grow out of someday, but you never did. We spent most of your childhood afraid we’d lose you, and we wouldn’t know why.” She looked at me briefly before she started to rearrange the stems again. “We’re still afraid.”
It was on my lips to tell her that she had no reason to be, but she kept talking, and I…I wanted to li
sten. Call me needy or vain, but I wanted to hear more of my mother as she admitted that she cared for me and always had despite our differences.
“It wore on you too,” she told me. “You were always so frustrated, so confused. You stopped eating and couldn’t bear to smell anything, real or imagined, pleasant or bad. Sometimes you’d cry, and sometimes you’d get angry. There were even times your blood pressure would skyrocket until you passed out.” She took a deep breath before shaking her head and started rearranging those stems again. There were at least thirty more bouquets in the room, but she was focused on this one. “And then, one day, you vanished. We searched for hours, but you were simply gone. After a while, you gave us no choice but to think you ran away, harmed yourself, or worse…someone had taken you.” Bringing one of the stems up, she sniffed the petals and smiled. “It was another day before we found you.” She turned to me with an admonishing look. “You were sleeping in a field not far away as if nothing were amiss.” She looked at the bouquet again. “A field full of these.”
My eyebrows rose because I didn’t remember that.
At all.
“You looked so still after so many restless nights that for a moment, I thought…” She loudly sighed when she struggled to find the words. “I thought you were dead, Braxton.”
I winced at the weariness in her voice even now.
“We took you home,” she continued. “But the next day, it started all over again—the crying and the fits. Whenever you were overwhelmed, afraid, confused, or hurting, you ran to that field. Even during the rare times that you were happy, you still went back. You always found a reason because you were never truly at peace unless surrounded by these. Sometimes we’d find you sleeping again. Other times you’d be singing, crying, dancing, or laughing for no reason at all. Your father didn’t understand. He got so fed up that he threatened to send it up in flames. The last time he dragged you out of there, you begged and promised not to go back, but his mind was made up.” She hesitated to tell me what I already knew. “He destroyed it.”
I frowned, wishing I could manage more than that. I wanted to stand up. I wanted to scream. I wanted to rage. “If you knew,” I struggled to get out, “what it meant to me… why didn’t you…stop him?”
