by SR Jones
“Pulse is weak. I think she’s in arrhythmia.” He turns to look at Damen.
“Fuck, Marina, come on,” Damen growls.
The man rubs my mom’s sternum with the knuckle of his pointer finger, hard. “Marina. Marina, come on.”
She doesn’t respond, but then her eyes flutter open and she takes a gasping breath.
“Damn it… Let me go.” She tries to move Damen’s hands, but he’s too strong. “I don’t want … don’t make me survive this to die in pain months down the line with nothing but terrible memories of my violation between now and then. Don’t you dare!”
She’s crying now. She looks at me. “Maya, please. I love you. I love you, I always did, but I was weak. Afraid. Please, be the woman I wasn’t. I need you to be strong for me. Let. Me. Go.”
I don’t know what comes over me. I don’t know where the strength comes from, but as if they are moving of their own accord, my hands cover Damen’s, and I gently lift them from Mother’s stomach.
The blood is coming faster now.
“I think she pierced the aorta, maybe not badly enough to bleed out in seconds, but enough to kill,” the man in the suit says to Damen. “Or maybe her spleen. She’s got minutes.”
I don’t want his clinical words to be the last thing Mom hears, so I hold her hands, and I start to sing to her. My voice isn’t good, but we used to sing together when I was a child. When we had a better relationship. She’d hoist me on her hips and dance around the house with me while she played her favorite music, usually Simon and Garfunkel, who she’s always loved. “Cecilia” and “Mrs. Robinson” were her favorites, so now I sing them to her. My voice is low as I hold her hand and brush her cheek with mine.
“I love you,” I tell her, stopping singing for a moment. “I love you, and you didn’t fail me. You were navigating your way through a world I only now understand. I never saw the dangers in the way you did. You understood. You knew what a war between Stamatis and Spiros would mean. You tried your best to keep me safe, and I don’t blame you for anything you did.”
I mean the words too. My mother was another victim of this sick, horrible life so far as I am concerned. She tried to keep the two of us safe by being quiet, appeasing the men around her, and I get it. She had me. I don’t have anyone else. I don’t have to be quiet and good. I can get my revenge, and the only person who gets hurt if it goes wrong is me.
None of these thoughts leave my mouth. Mom doesn’t need to hear them. I want her to have a semblance of peace in her final moments.
“I’m going to be okay, Mom,” I tell her. “Damen will keep me safe.”
He nods, and the expression on his face is almost enough to fool even me that he actually cares for me. I know different, though. He cares enough to save me because of his honor, his belief I am under his protection. He doesn’t love me, though, and that is a lesson I’ll never forget, because the one person who does truly love me, as flawed as that love is, will soon leave this world.
Then I’ll be alone.
Costas is dragged back into the room by Liam, and he picks up a knife. I don’t want Mom to witness any more death or violence, so I turn her face gently to me.
“I love you,” I tell her again.
Her eyes are closed now, and I don’t know if she can hear me.
Noise fills the room as people rush into the space we occupy. I’m torn away from my mother, and I try to cling onto her, but people in uniform are surrounding her. They are doing things to her, trying to breathe life back into a body that doesn’t want it.
Then hands are on me. A concerned man is shining a light in my eyes, inspecting my face, looking at the blood around my mouth. He feels my pulse. “Do you feel okay?” he asks me. “She’s tachycardic,” he says to someone else. “Probably trauma or shock. Might need a sedative, maybe a beta blocker. She definitely needs a ride in too.”
I look around me, wanting to find Damen. He might not love me, but I love him, and right now I need him. In the days and weeks to come, I’ll gather my strength and face my future alone, but right now, I need someone by me.
“Damen?” My voice is weird.
I glance around me wildly, only to see him being handcuffed by the police. What the hell? The man in the suit is too. So is the dark haired man who had been fighting with Costas, and yet Costas is being seen to by paramedics as if he’s innocent in this, while the men who tried to save me and Mom are being arrested? No, no, this is all wrong.
Heavy footsteps grab my attention as more men file into the room. Oh, hell. Stamatis.
His face is like nothing I’ve seen before. He’s thunder and lightning all bound into one terrible dark energy. An unexploded nuclear bomb about to go off. Then he sees me, the blood on my mouth, my ripped clothes. He sees my mother and his face falls, anguish replacing the rage.
He’s flanked by Alesso and Markos. Alesso mutters a curse under his breath. He glances at Damen, and then at Costas.
“Father. Oh, thank God.” Costas is coming closer. He’s being helped by a paramedic, who is holding him up as he drags his useless, still bloody leg behind him.
They near us, and I instinctively shrink back, I can’t help it. This is another emotional reaction I will control in the coming weeks and months. I won’t show Costas this weakness again, but right now, my body is its own master. My mind is half checked out.
“Damen, you are going down for this, and I hope you never see daylight again,” Costas sneers as he stares at Damen in cuffs.
“Father, your men need clearing out, top to bottom. We need to talk. Come, ride with me to the hospital.”
Stamatis stares at Costas, raises his hand, and caresses his cheek. Costas smiles into the touch. Stamatis pulls his hand back and slaps Costas so hard across the face his head snaps back.
The paramedic gives a gasp, but he doesn’t interfere. Clever them, they clearly don’t have a death wish. The police in the room hold back too. The man in charge of the small team is one I’ve seen at Stamatis’ gatherings before. Now he issues orders, and then they’re moving, hustling out of there as if they’re on fire. I get it, they don’t want to hear what goes down next because they will turn a blind eye to the machinations within our family. It’s safer for them this way. They are rank and file officers, not the organized crime unit, or the sort of law enforcement with the balls to go after Stamatis. I bite back a sob as Damen is dragged out of the room by them.
Stamatis pulls Costas’ head up by his hair, forcing his son to look him in the eye. “You are lucky these police and paramedics arrived when they did. As to your future, you are also lucky that your mother loves you so much me putting a hit out on you, or coming after you, would be a crime she won’t forgive. But you are no longer my son. If I ever see you again, I’ll put a bullet in you. If you touch a hair on Maya’s head or come near our family again, I’ll put a bullet in you. All my men know you aren’t to come near the house, you aren’t to contact your mother, your brother, none of us. You are dead to us all from this moment on.”
“What?” Costas starts to shake as he stares at his father. “I came here to help. Some men took Maya, and I found out about it. Then your goons … they … I can explain. It’s not what it seems.”
I laugh, the sound bitter and sharp, like twisted metal.
“I know it all; Alesso and Markos filled me in.” Stamatis’ face contorts into something anguished and broken. “You better become a ghost from this moment on, son. It is the only way you’ll survive. I promised your mother I wouldn’t personally come after you, and I am a man of my word … unless you try to worm your way back into any of our lives, or come near my daughter, then all bets are off. As for Damen, I can’t speak for him; you’ve made a deadly enemy. Disappear, use what little brains you have left to realize you lost. Your only hope is to go away. For good.”
“Sir,” the paramedic addresses Stamatis. “Your son is in urgent need of medical treatment.”
“Take him,” Stamatis says with a wave of his hand.
&nb
sp; “Father? Pappa?” Costas starts to call out for his father as the paramedics try to get him moving again.
Stamatis hardens his face, but I can see what this is costing him. He’s aged a decade in hours. Even his posture is coated in defeat. A man who ruled everything, but in the end couldn’t rule against his own son. A man who gave up the true love of his life to his brother and regretted it ever since. A man who denied his daughter her rightful place. I see all the regrets and loss etched in every line on his face.
“This won’t be the end of it,” Alesso says. “Costas won’t slink away with his tail between his legs.”
“You may be right,” Stamatis replies heavily. “I’m well aware the day may come when I have to take up arms against my own son, but that day isn’t today. And hopefully, this has scared him half to death. Damen won’t let him be, and if he has a brain cell left functioning, he’ll disappear. Go a long, long way from here.”
Alesso nods and says nothing else, but his frown tells me he’s not happy with this turn of events.
“Holy fuck, how the hell did I let this happen?” Stamatis hangs his head and rakes his hands viciously through his hair.
The men working on my mother are now hurrying her out of the room on a stretcher, still administering aid, whilst others carry her.
My paramedic takes my arm and starts to lead me from the room. I stare around me in a total panic. I can’t be alone in an ambulance. I can’t. My mind is fracturing. God, even my father would be a comfort now. I mean the one I grew up with, Spiros, not the sperm donor in front of me, who right now is a broken shell of a man.
“Alesso,” Damen calls out. Jesus, trust him to call out to his brother in arms, not me. “Stay with Maya. Don’t leave her side. Don’t let her ride in the ambulance alone.” Okay, so maybe he was thinking of me after all.
Alesso gives a jerk of his head. “I won’t leave her alone, I promise.”
“I’ll head down to the police station, try to sort this epic shit show out,” Stamatis tells Alesso. “They didn’t hear what went down, but they know my son turned on me. If it gets out, I am going to look weak. This is going to cost me a fortune in hush money. And I might need to make some threats too, in order to drive the point home.”
Alesso nods and claps Stamatis once on the shoulder.
Then I’m being moved hastily through the room and out of the door into the now dark night, and I don’t hear anymore. There are so many vehicles and lights when we step out it’s disorienting. The bright lights of an ambulance are jarring as I am led up the ramp and inside, where the paramedic gets me to sit on a bed.
“I’m riding with her,” Alesso says, jogging toward us.
“Who are you?” the man asks.
“Her brother-in-law,” Alesso lies glibly.
“Not really close family.”
Alesso fixes the guy with an intense and scary as hell stare. The man swallows and backs down. “Okay, you can come with us.”
“Thanks.”
The paramedic starts to stick ECG tracers on me, taking care to keep my tattered clothes covering me as much as he can. Once he’s done and the leads are attached, he runs an ECG strip.
Then he speaks to his driver. “We’re ready to go when you are. I’m going to get some fluids in her. I think she’s dehydrated, so take it easy on the corners while I’m getting a cannula in. She’s still tachy, pulse is 130, but sinus rhythm. If the fluids don’t bring her pulse down, I’ll make a judgement on administering a beta blocker.” He’s scribbling notes on a chart attached to a clipboard as he writes.
“Okay,” the female driver says. “Off we go.”
An ambulance roars out of the parking lot with the lights and sirens flashing, and I wonder if it is the one carrying my mother. I wanted to go with her, but she was surrounded by people trying to save her life. She doesn’t want to live, but I need her to, despite my earlier actions when I tried to let her go. Now the fear of being without her is building to a roar, and against her wishes, I pray they save her. It’s a selfish desire not to be abandoned and left alone in this world, to all intents and purposes an orphan.
Tears fill my eyes, and something warm covers my hand. I glance down and see Alesso’s hand over mine.
“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, Maya. I’m so sorry we weren’t in time to save you from this. Damen is going to beat himself up over this forever.”
The paramedic glances between us both, obviously intrigued.
“Damen doesn’t really care about me; he just needs to be a knight in shining armor.” I know I sound bitter, but I am feeling bitter. And hollow. And sad. So very, very sad.
I also wish my heart would stop racing this way; it’s making me faint and out of breath.
“You don’t think he cares?” Alesso’s voice rises, and the paramedic shoots him a warning glance.
“I don’t think the patient is in a fit state for any further emotional conversation right now.”
Alesso nods, but says to me. “We will have a talk, Maya. You seem to misunderstand some things.”
Misunderstand? I know what I heard. The memory makes the tears leaking from my eyes come all the faster. God, I’m so weak. Why can’t I be strong? Like Damen. Cold, closed off, but strong. Maybe he’s got the right idea after all. If you don’t love people, you can’t be hurt. If you can’t be hurt, you aren’t weak.
“Okay, can you try to relax for me, Maya?” the paramedic says as he gets the cannula in the back of my arm and hooks me up to a bag that I presume contains the fluids he talked about.
Relax. Relax? My life is out of control, I’m terrified, and I don’t even know what of. It’s as if thousands of volts of electricity are circulating around my body, and I don’t know how to turn them off.
“Only a few minutes out,” the female driver says. “How’s her heart rate?”
The paramedic places a small plastic thing on my finger and looks to the monitor. “Still pretty tachycardic.”
We take a turn and slow. “Okay, here we are.”
I’m relieved to be at the hospital, because this is where Mom is, and I want to be with her. What if she’s already gone? The thought has a sob tearing out of my throat. The paramedic looks uncomfortable, but Alesso reaches out to me and strokes my cheek.
“You’re going to be okay, Maya. You will, I promise. You might not think so now, but you’re strong, and you have Damen.”
His words, his lies, only make it worse.
The driver is out of the cab, and the doors of the back of the ambulance open. I go to get up, but the paramedic pushes me back down. “Oh no, your heart rate is too unstable; we’ll wheel you in.”
It’s disorientating to be wheeled out of the ambulance and into the hospital. Dark hits my eyes, then bright lights. We’re moving fast down a corridor. Lights blur, someone says hello to the paramedic pushing me, and then I’m in a bay.
A nurse is there before I get chance to catch my breath. She hooks up new electrodes to the ECG stickers and runs off another strip of results. She frowns. “How long has her heart rate been elevated this way?”
“The whole time. Possibly shock or trauma; she’s come from a violent crime scene.”
They keep on talking. The paramedic recounts everything, and it is like listening to an account of someone else’s life, someone else’s experience—not mine.
“Okay, a doctor will be with you in five minutes. I’m going to draw some blood for now.” The nurse efficiently gets some blood from my arm as I watch in fascination. So little, and she has to pull it out of me, but everywhere tonight I saw blood spill like a river. I don’t think I’ll ever wear red again. Not even red nails. I shudder.
“There’s a sick tray here if you need it.” She shoves a cardboard thing onto my lap, and with a swish of the curtains exists the bay.
It’s just me and Alesso. “You’ve got to get me to my mother.” I grab his sleeve and pull him toward me. “Alesso, please. I need to see her. I need to know if she’s s
till alive.”
“Give me a moment,” he says, and then he’s gone too, and I’m all alone. Nothing but myself and the weird silence of this cubicle as all around outside it the world hurries by.
He seems to be gone for hours. I know he hasn’t been, can’t have been, but that’s the way it seems. I look around for my bag, wanting my phone so at least I can keep track of the time, but I don’t see it anywhere. The panic is returning, squeezing my chest, stealing the air from my lungs, and cramping my stomach.
The curtain opens, and I almost weep with relief. It’s Alesso, but his face is drawn, grim.
“Maya.”
His one word, and the tone he uses to utter it, says it all.
She’s gone.
My mom is gone.
I start to cry, big heaving sobs, and my heart pounds harder in my chest. I need to calm down. I’m going to give myself a heart attack or something, but I can’t stop this feeling. This tsunami of grief and terror engulfing me won’t stop.
“It’s okay. Maya, it’s okay, shush, come on.” Alesso sits on the side of the bed and pulls me into his arms. He holds me tight, stroking my back, kissing the top of my head, talking to me, shushing me, telling me it will all somehow be okay. I don’t believe a word, but I can feel his touch soothing me a little, the warmth of him, the strength of him leaking into me, calming me.
I should hate him for the way he spoke about me to Damen, but I don’t. I can’t hate him because I don’t and never did love him. I liked him, crushed on him for a while, but I never loved him, not like I do Damen. As I once read, hate isn’t the opposite of love; indifference is. I can’t be indifferent to Damen, but I can to Alesso.
“Okay, Miss. Let’s get you sorted.” A doctor strides into the cubicle and hands me a tiny white cup with some tablets in. “Take these, and then we’ll get you onto a ward for observation.”
“How long do I have to stay?” I ask, my mouth trembling as I speak.
“Hopefully just tonight.”
“C-c-can I go and s-s-see my mother?” I ask.
He glances at Alesso.
“I’ll go with her,” he says to the doctor.
