by Lilly Wilde
When he sees a drop of his blood land on my cheek, he loses another shred of his sanity, striking the side of my head with a solid punch that takes my vision. But it doesn’t stop there. He strikes me again…and again. I try to block the evil torrent of blows, but his fists come hard and steady.
“Where is your protector now? Huh? Where is he?”
“Eth… St…” I try to spit out the words but the excruciating pain takes over every nerve ending in my body. A single pulse beats inside me and then everything shuts down. The light is gone and silence swallows me whole. I hear nothing…not even the sound of my cries.
My eyes barely open, allowing only a trace of light to pass through. I reach for my face and feel gauze, then I move my hands over my torso and it’s as if I’m not moving at all. My entire body is numb—I feel nothing. My lips part to speak and I swear I say “what’s going on?”, but I don’t hear the words. I’ve no voice. Panic overtakes me and my chest rises and falls abnormally fast. Something isn’t right. What’s wrong with me?
“She’s waking up,” I hear someone say. I’m not sure who it is, but it’s a man’s voice.
I can’t smell anything either. Why can’t I smell?
“Call the doctor. Let him know she’s finally coming out of the coma. I can’t believe it’s been a whole week,” comes another voice. This time it’s a woman. Was that Aunt Sophie? And why would she be calling a doctor? For who? What the hell is going on?
I struggle to find my words again. I swallow, and this time when I speak, I actually hear myself, but it comes out as undecipherable drivel.
I try to move but it’s as if a cement block is holding me down. After three failed attempts, I give up and lie there, trapped inside my body. I hear more voices but this time I can’t make out what’s being said. I try again to claw my way to the surface and make heads or tails of what’s happened to me. But something in my head is pushing me back under. Refusing to give up, I utter another string of unintelligible gibberish, then I’m pushed further into the darkness of which I’m trying to escape. I can see it—a black cavernous hole with tentacles and it’s reaching for me.
“I…I…please.”
It grabs me.
Wrapping itself around my frame until I’m no more.
Then I’m out again.
“Please. Don’t. Please. I’ll be good. I promise.”
The response is a slap across my back.
“You don’t know what good is,” she shouts.
Another bite into my skin.
A deep, visceral cry escapes. It’s a cry for help. A cry that will go unanswered.
The lashes across my back are quick and deep. I know she’s drawing blood this time. I just know it. I shake my head, turning it to the side, and gasp for air. “Cassidy, please, please stop!”
My eyes shoot open, wet with tears, as pain radiates through what feels like most of my body.
It was a dream. It was just a dream. But it wasn’t. It was a memory of the day Cassidy caught me slipping from my room for something to eat after being sent to bed without dinner. It was a recollection of the day she beat me with such fierce brutality that I missed school for three days.
Where the hell am I?
After taking some time to process my surroundings, I realize it’s a new day. And like the previous one, I’m not alone.
“Sounds like you had a nightmare,” he says, stepping closer to the bed. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”
It takes everything in me to turn toward the sound of the voice. When I finally do, my eyes fall upon the beauty and perfection of an angel. I’m obviously still dreaming because he wouldn’t be here. Not with me…not like this.
I touch my face, the gauze is gone.
I try to push myself up, but I can’t seem to move. He stares at me, smooths a hand over my hair, then leans in and kisses my forehead. When his woodsy scent hits my nose, I accept that he isn’t a figment of my imagination. He’s actually here.
“Try to keep still,” he says.
I’m in too much pain to be embarrassed, but the look in his eyes says I should be. Then I remember where I am and who put me here. “How did you know I was in the hospital?” My voice sounds strange. As if my vocal cords are stuffed with wads of cotton.
“You weren’t at work.”
I try to clear my throat. “So you figured I was in the hospital? That’s quite a leap.”
He places a straw in a cup of water and brings it to my lips. I look up at him as I take a sip. “Actually, Carrie told me.”
I let out a groan. “Figures.”
“It wasn’t like that. Don’t be angry with her.”
“This was not her business to tell.”
He shakes his head. “Alert for only a couple of minutes and grouchy already.”
“This is personal,” I croak, my words coming slowly. “Not anything for her to go gabbing about.”
“Since you and I are on good terms, I’d started dropping by the diner again.”
“Yeah. So?”
“I asked her a couple of times where you were and she said you were off. It was obvious something was up, so on the third day, I demanded she tell me what was going on. She still hesitated but when I offered her an autographed jersey, she finally caved.”
“Like I said…figures.”
He strokes a finger over my cheek. “I was worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Well, turns out I had reason to be. I’m gonna kick that fucker’s ass.”
“Leave it alone, Branch,” I reply, the strain in my voice gradually fading. “I think he’s lost his mind and the more I defend myself, the crazier he’ll become. And I have my daughter to think about.”
“Did he do this because of me?”
“He’s upset because I won’t come back to him. And because I pressed charges. And because he’s embarrassed.”
His brows furrow. “What the fuck does he have to be embarrassed about?”
“He was arrested at his job. In front of his boss and his friends. And yes, he did mention you.”
The door swings open and a nurse walks in with a tray of food. “Glad to see you’re finally awake, Ragan. I’m Nurse Debra. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been thrown under a bus, run over twice, then used for a speed bump.” I grimace a smile.
“You’ll be good as new in no time. The doctor says you’re healing quite well.”
“That’s good to hear.” Although it sure doesn’t feel like it.
“I took a chance you’d be awake and grabbed some food for you. Can you manage to feed yourself or do you think you’ll need help?”
I want to say I’ll manage on my own but I can barely hold my head up.
“I’ll do it,” Branch suggests.
I frown at his offer. “Er…no, you won’t.”
Nurse Debra gives Branch a lingering once-over and then looks back to me with a raised brow. “I thought the meds had worn off by now.”
“Jeez. Not you, too. Why is everyone so easily sucked in by this guy?”
Branch chuckles. “Obviously not everyone.”
Debra places the tray on the table then looks up at me. “So what’s it gonna be, Miss Ragan?”
“He can do it, I guess.”
She gives me a wink. “Lucky girl. I’ll be back with your meds after you’ve eaten,” she adds, and heads out of the room.
“Do you know how many women would die to have me at their bedside? Let alone feed them?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, let me guess…hundreds.”
“Try millions.”
I laugh. “Ow.”
“Are you okay?” he asks, his gaze soft on mine. “Do you need me to call the nurse back?”
“No, I’m fine. Stop making me laugh.”
Branch removes the lid from the tray of food and frowns. “Tomorrow I’ll bring you something in. This looks like shit.”
“Tomorrow? You mean you’re coming back?”
“Hey, don’t pretend as if you don’t like the thought of seeing my pretty face again tomorrow. Now open up.” He holds a spoon of soup in front of me.
I exhale a sigh and part my lips.
“Wider,” he orders.
“I hate this.” I follow his instruction, then he slides the spoon of noodles into my mouth.
“That’s a good girl,” he says, grinning back at me.
“Oh, fuck off.”
“Hey, is that the thanks I get?”
“I’m sorry,” I say after a second spoonful. “Sometimes, it’s kind of hard to be nice to you.”
“Even after…”
“Yeah, especially after that. The way it ended was really messed up. Just like the first time we had sex.”
Some of the soup dribbles from the spoon as his eyes dart to mine. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“No. Tell me. What are you talking about?”
“I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything but…the night of the bonfire wasn’t the only time we’d had sex. The first time was in high school.”
“If this is your idea of a joke, I think you’re confused on how to deliver a punch line.”
“I’m not joking. And before you ask, it’s not the drugs talking. You and I really did have sex.”
He looks at me as if he’s trying to determine if I really am setting him up for a joke. “And where was I, because I think I’d remember something like that.”
“Not really.”
“Okay, why do you say that?”
“Because you’re Branch McGuire.”
His brows scrunch. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I guess I need to jar your memory. It was the night of the homecoming game between Dawson and Blue Ridge. Zaxby’s—the restaurant I worked for—was catering the homecoming after-party. I was working that night, otherwise I would’ve never been allowed out of the house. Anyway, you were beyond wasted and I kinda had a mega crush on you back then, so you were conveniently in my line of vision for a large part of the night.”
He offers a few more spoons of soup between details of my story.
“You were goofing around with your boys—as usual—and you grabbed a bottle of water from one of the tubs, then you turned around and bumped right smack into me. I went sprawling on my ass. You reached down to help me but I pulled you down with me and I kissed you. Surprisingly enough, we didn’t stop. We ended up behind the stadium and that’s where it happened. As soon as we finished, we headed back to the party and one of the cheerleaders came up to you and pulled you away. You looked back at me for a split second…and that was it.”
Branch holds the spoon in midair. “Are you remembering correctly?”
“It was the night I lost my virginity. I don’t think a girl would forget something like that.”
Horrified by my admission, the spoon falls from his hand. “So you’re saying I took your virginity?”
“Not so much as took, as it is that I gave it to you.”
“Are you sure? That it was me, I mean?”
I roll my eyes. “Do you seriously think a girl would ever forget her first time?”
He falls quiet, his eyes searching mine for answers. “Your first time? And it was with me? Why would you do something like that? And outside? Why me?”
“Why not you? You were Branch McGuire, the most sought-after guy in two counties and I was a high school girl with a silly crush.” I shrug. “You gave someone like me a second look. Granted it was a drunken look, but no way was I going to let that pass me by.”
He’s quiet again.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
A look of remorse clouds his expression. “I’m sorry for not remembering.”
My gaze falls to the tray of food. “Whatever.”
“I’m serious.”
“A guy like you doesn’t remember stuff like that, so I’m not surprised.”
“Is that why you were so…opposed to me when I started coming to the diner?”
“That’s just one of the many reasons,” I reply.
Branch finishes feeding me but he doesn’t say much more. Not even his egotistical jokes. Once he’s sure I’m comfortable, he leaves me alone, but not before grabbing my phone and adding his number. I stare after him as he walks out, wondering how in God’s name I’ve become friends with Branch McGuire.
“MAMA’S IN LABOR!” LUCIANA’S VOICE comes loud and winded through the phone.
I toss the wrench aside and wipe my hands on my jeans. “Are your aunts there?”
“No, they’re out picking up some last minute stuff for the nursery.”
“Have you called an ambulance?” I ask.
“Mama wanted us to call you first.”
“Okay. Jimmy had mentioned something about a go-bag.”
“Yeah, Isidora’s grabbing it now.”
“I’m on my way,” I say and rush out of the garage.
“It’s a boy,” Loretta says looking up at me with big tears in her eyes.
A son. Jimmy has a son. “Man. Jimmy would have been screaming it down the halls.”
Loretta wipes the water from her eyes. “I think he’s screaming it up in heaven.”
The kids all circle around Loretta as she looks down at the latest addition to their family.
“You okay, Mama?” Isidora asks.
“Sí, bebé. I’m just happy…and a little sad that your dad isn’t here to help with the three-in-the-morning feedings.”
“What are we going to name him?” Tater asks.
She looks at me, then down at the baby. “Jimmy Warren Perez.”
My middle name. I don’t know what shocks me more, the fact that Loretta knows it or that her newborn is now my namesake. I stare at the two of them, too dumbfounded to do much more than manage a grin that I’m sure looks as awkward as I feel right now.
Tater sits on the bed to get a closer look at the baby. “I like that, Mama.”
“Me too,” the girls chime in.
“Your father wouldn’t have let me name his boy anything other than Jimmy. And he’s always thought of you as a son,” she adds, peering up at me. “So it’s the perfect name.”
I nod at her choice. “I actually think Jimmy would approve.”
“I know he would,” she says. “Would you like to hold him?”
I shake my head and take a step back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Maybe when he’s a little bigger.”
“Oh, come on. He won’t break.”
I’m about to refuse again but something urges me to reconsider. “Er…sure.”
When Little Jimmy’s nestled in my arms, I look down at him and smile. “He’s…uh.”
“I know he’s a bit funny looking right now,” Loretta says. “It’s okay, you can say it.”
“Well, I was trying to see which of you he resembled, but at the moment, he looks more like a different species.”
Loretta and the girls share a laugh. My gaze scans the merriment of their expressions. I’m glad I can give them something to smile about in spite of the emotional turmoil their lives have become over the last few weeks.
Little Jimmy makes a delicate noise and my eyes fall back to the tiny one in my arms. I see a new life—a small defenseless being dependent on us to get everything just right. I skip ahead to the next several years and I see Jace and the need for his stability. And finally, I see Cecelia—an innocent little girl who’s never had either of those things. An unfamiliar feeling settles over me, then I look up and see Loretta and the girls watching my interaction with the baby. I really want to be the stand-up guy they’ll need. I want to be the type of man and mentor to them that Jimmy was to me.
“I’ll bet he’ll be the spitting image of his dad,” Loretta says, when I eventually pass him back to her. “God wouldn’t have it any other way.” She looks at the baby and then at each of her daughters. “He’s given me the most precious parts of my Jimmy.”
AFTER A TWO WEEK STINT at Fannin Regiona
l Hospital, I finally get my walking papers. My face still looks as if it was used as a punching bag. And I suppose it kinda was. The two broken ribs are healing nicely according to the X-rays, but it’s still a bitch to sit or stand. I’ll be out of work for the next three to four weeks at least.
My ex is in jail where he belongs…with quite a hefty bail. I have a feeling Branch had something to do with that. No way can the Tylers come up with enough money to get Ethan out any time soon. And with that worry off my mind, I can focus on getting better and taking care of CeeCee.
I slide my feet into the pink fuzzy slippers Branch bought me the week before, then pull my new jacket—another gift from Branch—from the closet.
A knock sounds at the door as I step toward the bed. “Come in.”
“Are you about ready to go?” Branch asks.
My heart flip-flops each time I look at him, so of course I’m happy he’s here but he’s not who I expected to walk through the door. “I thought Dad and Aunt Sophie were coming for me.”
“They were.”
I stuff the last of my toiletries in the bag. “So why are you here?”
He shrugs. “I offered to do it.”
“And why did you do that?”
“Ragan, as strange as it is, we’re friends now. And friends help friends. How often must I repeat that before it sinks in?”
I stare at him, unsure how to reply.
“You do know what a friend is right?” he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Before Ethan? Yes. During and after Ethan? No. It’s almost as if I’m learning to walk amongst the living again. How could I have not seen what he was doing to me? Or maybe I’d seen it all along, but I was just in too deep to fight my way out.
The orderly comes in with a wheelchair before I can answer. “If you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride downstairs.”
“I’ve got it,” Branch tells him.
“I kinda have to do it,” the orderly replies. “Hospital policy.”
“Well, in this case, I’ll be the one to do it. Branch McGuire policy.”
