RUINING ANGEL

by S. Pratt

  ‘Just tell me one thing Bails, why the fuck did you bring him here with you?’

  ‘I … ah …’

  ‘I mean, is it just to torture me? Because it’s working you know!’ She looks crushed at the harsh tone I’m using with her. Without intending to I am coming across as a complete and utter asshole.

  ‘What the hell are you talking about? I’m with Carron because you insisted on it in first place! You said to me I could never be with you. You said that I should move on and be with someone else. You practically forced me to be with him because you refuse to be with me! The last time you cut off contact it almost killed me!’ A sob catches in the back of her throat and she looks close to tears.

  Christ! The last thing I want to do is hurt her. The first day I ever laid eyes on her I knew I wanted to protect her, and now is no different. As I take in her trembling lip, she melts my anger away like a soft serve ice-cream on a summer’s day.

  Unable to resist her charms over me any longer, I grab her around the waist and force my lips on hers, pulling her tightly to me so that I can drink in everything that is Bailey. She smells amazing and it tantalizes my senses as my tongue finds hers. Hard hands find her belly and I groan as I remember what it felt like to run my hands down the flat of it earlier in the day, trailing towards her pussy and fingering her till she came.

  ‘I can’t stand it any longer, Bails. I want you all to myself,’ I growl. The gasp that omits from her lips makes me happy. Good, I have her attention. Now all I need to do is convince her that I’ll never send her away from me again. The next time I hold her in my arms, it’s for keeps.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Mine Forever

  Having Bailey come and spend the weekend with me satisfied me like nothing else – and I’m not talking about the sex either. I’ve had an almost caveman-like reaction to her being in my house with me, claiming what’s mine and mentally beating my hands on my chest. Even though she’s technically still with Carron, I know it won’t be for much longer. I want her, need her, and I know that nothing, not even my parents, will get in the way of taking what I deem to be mine.

  The complexity of our relationship still gnaws at some insidious part of my brain and won’t let go. I try to ignore it when these thoughts come knocking. They are not conducive to our relationship and I know from experience that ultimately my heart will always win out – right or wrong.

  This morning I’m sitting on my porch with a steaming hot cup of coffee. She’s on my mind, as usual, because I’m about to get in my truck and drive across the country to claim what’s mine.

  I really do feel like I am suffocating without her. It still amazes me that another human being can so intricately work their way into your bones so that every single breath without them feels like a labored case of emphysema. The stereo plays softly through the wooden door of the cabin. Hunter Hayes’ song, Wanted, trickles out to meet my ears. It’s a little cheesy, but totally fitting for how I feel about Bailey right now. I re-read her last email to me.

  To: thurmontlumberyard@wizzmail.net

  From: bails@quickmail.com

  Subject: With bells on

  Need I say more LOL.

  Bails xx

  A satisfied grin dances across my lips. When Bailey was nineteen she’d been brave enough to buy a see-through red thong that had little silver bells sewn all across the ass of the panties. She’d worn them the year we spent Christmas hiding in Vancouver. She still thinks she lost them. I know better … they’ve been hidden in my drawer for the last seven years.

  I down the last of my coffee and lock up the cabin. My heart is beating a million miles a minute as I turn the key in the ignition of my truck. Today’s the day our lives are going to change forever. There’s no going back and I’m okay with that because, for once in my life, I know I’m doing the right thing.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN – Fuck

  I just want to close my eyes, but my purpose and determination are forcing me onwards. I’ve already had to change my route to avoid an accident but there’s ice on all of the roads leading into Astoria. Being in the driver’s seat for more than two days has exhausted me. My plan is to grab Bailey and then hole up with her in the first motel we come to for the next 24 hours at least.

  The thought of a nice warm bed and stretching my body out does horrible things to my state of awareness. Having the heater running full blast also isn’t helping. I shake my head like a dog, as though the action will clear some of the cobwebs that have started to take up residence in my head. Ignoring the blast of cold air, I wind my window all the way down, the frigid air instantly startling me awake. Gripping the steering wheel, I ignore my chattering teeth and put up with it for another couple of miles.

  The Astoria-Megler Bridge comes into view and I almost sigh with relief. Almost there, almost there. She’ll be waiting – there’s no doubt about that. I wind my window back up and let the heater do its job by filling the cab with warm air once more. Again I’m lulled into a false sense of reality. I fight with a horrible feeling as it grips me and tries to make me succumb to the sleep I so desperately need. Just a minute, I will just let my eyes close for a fraction longer.

  Blinking rapidly I peel my eyes open and grip the steering wheel fiercely. I’m on the bridge, on the home stretch to get my girl. Her face springs forth in my mind – it’s a happy Bailey, the one who reserves a certain look, just for me.

  I feel like I’m rocking – back and forth, unable to stop my head from falling forward as my body fights for sleep. Snapping my head back, I re-focus on the road. There is a sedan and a truck in front of me. Focusing on the sedan’s bumper I follow them onto the bridge across the large expanse of water.

  It’s funny, because I don’t even realize I have closed my eyes again. There is one teeny tiny part of my brain that is struggling to scream at me to wake up, but I can barely be bothered listening. The sounds of tires squealing are what finally shake me. In the blink of an eye, I’m suddenly very aware that I’m in deep fucking shit.

  The large truck in front of the sedan is skidding sideways down the bridge, its break lights on, smoke spewing from both rear tires as its momentum thrusts it into oncoming traffic. The sedan has swerved to the far left guard rail of the bridge and I’m amazed I have the clarity in this split-second to wonder if it’s possible they could break it and go clean over. Lost in my thoughts, I completely miss the car on the opposite side of the yellow lines that is coming for me head on.

  Sleep deprivation has dulled my reflexes, my reaction time is way too slow. While my hands are on the wheel, they won’t cooperate in time to get out of the path of the oncoming vehicle. In horror I watch the slow motion of the car coming at me. Funnily enough, my brain is convinced that if I accelerate then the car will miss me.

  My foot reacts accordingly and slams down hard on the accelerator pedal. The truck lurches forward, the sedan that was heading right for me misses the front driver’s side door, instead clipping the tail of my truck. It jack-knife’s me, leaving nowhere to go but up the ass of the large truck in front.

  I know I’m going to hit. There’s nowhere left to go. No time for thoughts of the future, only a glimpse into the past. Of course Bailey is there – she always has been. She’s the light when the rest of the world is darkness.

  I feel nothing. Sound, smell and all my senses leave me the minute metal starts to crush. There is something oddly wrong with my leg, but I couldn’t tell you what it is. All I know is that it’s not right. The brunt of the impact hits the front right side of my truck, which snaps my head to the left – where the glass window awaits.

  My whole body starts to leave the seat, but the seatbelt does its job, grounding my ass where I sit. Arms flail – no amount of gripping the steering wheel will help keep me rooted. My head collides with the driver’s side window. For a second, I feel it give. The impact brings the darkness. It’s deceiving. There will be no dreams, no nightmares. No thoughts of any kind. This can’t be good, because the darkness means th
ere will also be no Bailey. This kind of darkness – well, there’s no telling whether you come back from this sort of thing. As I succumb to my injuries, I realize my fate now lies with my maker.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN – The Good Girl

  Waking up was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Even that sweet voice wasn’t going to lull me out of the drug-induced haze so easily. The first time my eyes flutter open, the brightness of the room assaults me. I allow my body to be dragged back under, to the comfort of darkness where nothing hurts, where I can’t feel the uncomfortable tubes poking out of every orifice of my body, and where I don’t have to think about the state of Bailey’s and my relationship.

  Bailey, sweet Bailey. Her voice finds me, wherever I am. I know I’m becoming more lucid as times goes on, because now the darkness allows dreams. They are filled with Bailey, but not all good. My mind is playing tricks on me. It’s doubting everything. There are questions that need answering, yet I press my lips firmly together. I’ve heard mom and dad here. It wouldn’t do to say something I shouldn’t. In my present state I just don’t trust myself.

  Somebody touches me. The tubes have been removed, one by one from my mouth, arms and chest. There is still something uncomfortable poking up the eye of my cock, but I’m trying not to think about that. Cool fingers find my skin, they are dressing my leg. I must have a cut there. I keep my eyes shut and let them go about their business. They finish, and when silence fills the room once more I pluck up the courage to open my eyes properly for the first time since the accident.

  I’m in the hospital, there’s no doubt about that. Everything is white on white in a small private room. Sheer curtains cover the windows but I can still hear the noise of the outside world. A car passing, rain pouring, people talking – it’s all muffled into this very satisfying hum. My line of vision is straight ahead. I’m lying so very still, assessing which parts of my body hurt the most. The air is so thick with tension that for a moment I’m unaware that I have company.

  Ever so slowly my head turns to the left. My brain throbs terribly with the action and I instantly feel like I want to vomit. My head pounds viciously in my skull and I realize when I look sideways I have double vision in my right eye.

  Two of Bailey is by no means a bad thing, although I’m not sure how I feel about seeing two of everyone else. She sits slumped in the visitor’s chair, neck hanging slackly over the back of it making her look uncomfortable as hell. She’s asleep, but by no means looks peaceful. Seeing two of her compounds her stressed expression, as though she’s so worried that she’s pulling herself apart.

  She looks gaunt, her thin frame even skinnier than I remember. Her eyelids are puffy and red, but it does nothing to diminish her beauty. I still love her, still want her. I’m suddenly aware that I may not look like I used to. Maybe she won’t want me anymore. My head still throbs like crazy, but I’m distracted from the pain as she stirs beside me.

  A small groan escapes her lips, her ‘rest’ doing nothing for her neck. Slowly, slowly she opens her eyes and stares straight into mine. She gasps and her hand quickly covers her mouth. Those big blue eyes of hers are wide as saucers, unable to contain her surprise. They quickly fill with tears, which gives me pause to think that I really must look a whole lot shittier than I was first expecting. My hand reaches towards my face. I can feel a big scar running down my cheek to my jaw – there are metal staples holding the skin together. I suddenly have images of myself looking like Frankenstein.

  ‘Pretty bad, huh?’ My voice can barely get out past my lips. It’s raspy as all hell and I don’t even recognize it as myself talking. She immediately jumps up from her chair and throws her arms around me. It hurts like hell, but there is no way I’m asking her to stop. I close my eyes and breathe in her scent. My Bailey. She’s here. She’s waiting. She loves me – still.

  ‘Don’t you dare, Angel. You’re just as handsome as you always were,’ she whispers.

  ‘I’m gonna be a lot of hard work to fix, aren’t I?’

  ‘I don’t care. I’m here – I’ll always be here. Don’t you think for a second that this is going to push me away. You’ve been doing that yourself all these years and you promised me that nothing is going to change your mind about us anymore. No more pushing me away. You promised.’ She sounds like she is trying to convince herself more than me. I can feel her wet tears on my cheeks, sliding down my neck.

  ‘I love you more than my own life, you know that?’ I rasp.

  ‘I know. I feel exactly the same way about you.’ Her words buzz around me, making me feel better than any morphine or rehab possibly could. I would later find out that I’d been in an induced coma for almost a month but I felt like life was just beginning.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN – Honeymoon

  It hasn’t been easy. Some days I just wanted to stay in bed and skip the rehab altogether, but the sight of her each day at the foot of my bed ensured I always got my ass up and moving. It’s incredible to think that just a short while ago it was Carron who was living with Bailey in her house. Now I’m in his place while he’s living with a friend nearby. The irony is not lost on me.

  Thankfully I was able to hire a laborer to pick up the slack back at the lumber yard – the guy’s even renting out the cabin while I’m gone. I can’t wait to get back there, though.

  Eight fucking months of this shit and I feel like I’m going crazy. Some days the unspent energy buzzes around my body, anxious to escape, but the release never comes. I’m fidgety, uncomfortable and restless. I’ve had two surgeries on my broken leg, and finally I’ll be weight-bearing in a few more days. The injuries have taken a long while to fully heal. The ophthalmologist gave the all clear after three months, but there are still spots where the double vision lingers. I’m told this is a direct result of the stroke and may never heal properly. In the beginning I wore an eye patch so I didn’t have to see two of everything. My head and heart were given the all clear before they even let me out of the hospital. These days the biggest pain in my ass is my leg. I want to run – fast.

  Eventually my parents headed back home. They seemed quite happy that my ‘sister’ was going to look after me. They promised to visit the minute I returned to Thurmont. Bailey and I still have plans to move there once I’m fully recovered, but there is no intention to tell anyone anything at this stage. I know what I want, but I’m not stupid. Confidence in knowing what the aftermath of such a talk would be keeps my lips well and truly shut.

  Bailey is at work today. Her boss was gracious enough to allow her to change her plans again and remain in the office in Astoria until she notified them otherwise. I miss her during the day, but the internet has kept me company. I’m amazed I never knew how many freaking awesome videos there are on YouTube. The other thing the net is great for is shopping. No – not for me. For Bailey. She has no idea what I’ve been planning.

  This little near death experience has been the biggest wake up call. Do I still feel guilty about our relationship? Fuck yeah! But I’m not gonna let it run my life. I’m going to live it exactly the way I want to, which of course includes Bailey. I found a ring. Not just any ring. The ring. The one I’m going to propose to her with.

  I’m not into pretty sparkly things, but even I was tongue tied when I saw it online. It has a center solitaire diamond, with six branches of white gold trailing off from the middle, three tiny diamonds placed on each piece to give the illusion that the whole thing looks like a snowflake. It’s goddamn fucking perfect, just like her. When I was a child I learnt that snowflakes are all individual, never to be replicated. This notion has always stuck with me. Now I see Bailey as my snowflake. She’s one of a kind.

  I booked the marriage celebrant and honeymoon in Cancun. I’m going to propose when she gets home from work today.

  Using my crutches for support, I slowly make my way up the stairs to go and shower. It’s still taking some getting used to the new reflection that stares back at me in the mirror. The scar that runs down my face to my jaw
makes me look a little mean. Bailey says that’s okay, so long as my heart is good. I promise her it is.

  Slowly I shave, brush my teeth and then shower. Thankfully I have one good leg to stand on or this whole process would be a lot harder. Even though there are fresh scars on my leg from the recent surgery, they are stapled shut, so I only bother with a waterproof dressing to keep it from getting the wound wet. Quickly dressing, I realize I’m running out of time. Back in the bedroom I light the candles Bailey has scattered across the furniture tops and draw the curtains closed. The jewelry box with the ring in it is placed under my pillow, waiting for the right moment.

  Taking up space on my side of the bed, I settle down to wait. She won’t be long. As the clock ticks noisily beside me, my mind drifts to who used to occupy this side of the bed. I’m beyond amazed at Carron. The guy has class, I’ll give him that. If the shoe were on the other foot, he’d be six foot under with my boot up his ass. He’s dropped by a few times. Bailey always squirms uncomfortably, but he’s as kind to her as he’s always been. I wonder if he ever thinks he might get her back. He won’t, that I’m sure of, because I’m never going to give her permission to leave me again. She’s mine.

  I hear her car on the driveway so I feign sleep. The door slams and the jingle of keys can be heard. Jezebel is meowing on the stairs, but I know she won’t keep Bailey from me for long.