by Belle Aurora
Wide-eyed and red-faced, Ling Nguyen knew what was coming.
She choked out, “Do it.”
Oh, I would.
But not before I said what I needed to say. “I’m sorry I ever met you.” Her breathing slowed. “I’m sorry I made you into this person.” She stilled in my arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t love you enough to let you go when you had the chance to move on.”
It would be one of my biggest regrets.
My grip on her throat tightened, and I uttered, “Say hi to Az for me,” a single moment before I pushed her back out of the window.
Leaning over the sill, I watched her fall.
I watched her arms flail as if she were a flightless bird. I watched her eyes bug out and her mouth round in a silent scream. I watched her fear life for once in her miserable life.
And I took immense pleasure in watching her hit the ground below.
Would you look at that?
She bounced.
My entire being lightened as the weight left my shoulders, but it didn’t last long. We needed to leave this place. We needed to leave fast. And as we did, I couldn’t help myself. As one car took off with my woman, son, and sister inside it, I hesitated.
I needed to get a closer look, to confirm her death.
The moment I approached Ling’s lifeless body, I felt a strong sadness leech into me. I knelt down by her still form and reached out to gently stroke her hair. She was bleeding from everywhere, the eyes, the nose, the ears. Her body was as broken as her soul. How fitting.
A lot of people had let this woman down in life. And I was one of them.
I stood, sparing a single glance for her before taking a deep breath and turning away from the dangerous woman I had created. In that moment, I felt sore in a place I shouldn’t have felt sore. Simultaneously, my chest ached as my stomach eased.
As I made my way back to my people, one odd thought went through my mind.
Just as she was born and as she had been her entire life, Ling Nguyen even died prettily.
It figured.
Chapter
Forty-Four
Lexi
As soon as the car slowed to a stop, I shot out of the back and into the emergency entrance with Manda on my heels and my son in my arms. “Help!” I panted as I ran. My voice croaked, “I need help!”
Two nurses rushed forward, and while the female pried open the little monster’s eyes, shining a light in them, the male asked, “What happened?”
What happened?
I had the insane urge to laugh out loud.
Jesus Christ. How much time did he have? Because, oh boy, did I have a story to tell.
Thankfully, Manda responded on my behalf. “He’s been given Phenergan and we don’t know how much.” She peered down at A.J. “Judging from his shallow breathing, I’m guessing a double dose at the very least.”
The female nurse put a stethoscope to my son’s chest and frowned before moving it around. When her frown deepened, the last few days of exhaustion caught up with me, and my arms began to shake as I struggled to hold my little boy in my arms.
My small stumble was noticed by all.
From my side, Manda uttered, “Let me take him, Lexi.”
But I took a step back.
No.
Nobody was taking him from me. I wouldn’t allow it.
When the male nurse held his arms out, my initial reaction was to open my mouth and spew out a long string of vicious obscenities. But my current state of exhaustion even made that too much. Instead, I simply shook my head as my eyes darted from nurse to nurse erratically.
The female nurse sighed loudly. “Listen.” Her tone told me she was done with my shit before it began. “I need to get that little boy onto a respirator. I also need to get an IV line into him, and I can’t do that with you pulling at him the way you are.”
I blinked down at my son, and for a solid moment, I was genuinely terrified of letting him go.
My shoulders shook as I lowered my face to A.J.’s cheek, pressing shaky kisses to it as I began to cry. Given the moment I had so desperately needed, I looked into her eyes and my breath hitched, as I croaked out, “Please don’t take him from me.”
Didn’t they understand?
I just got him back.
My biggest fear at the moment was A.J. waking up in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar place without me.
He needed me.
No.
You need him.
At my candid fear, the woman’s face softened. “You came to us for help. Now let us help him, love.”
When gentle hands came down on my shoulders, my head snapped up, and his soft brown eyes held me in place. “Let go, baby.”
I shook my head as my lips trembled. “No.”
Twitch moved slowly, and then he was at my side. His eyes never leaving mine, and with firm but gentle hands, he went about prying my son out of my arms.
It took me a second to react. Affronted, my lip curled as I recognized what he was doing. I tried to step back, but his free arm held me around the waist. “Let go.”
Why didn’t he get it?
I couldn’t.
I just couldn’t.
We struggled as he attempted to take my son from me. “No.”
And when he said what he said, my entire body weakened. “You’ll get him back this time, angel. I promise. Just let go.”
My fear spoken out loud, my breath left me all at once. Grief struck me hard like a punch to the gut.
In my declining state, he managed to force our son from me, and as I lifted my head and cried openly, my knees wobbled, but he held me tight. I heard him say, “Take him,” and I watched as the nurses took my son.
They took him from me a second time in as many days.
And I did the only thing I could at that moment.
I cried.
I cried my heart out.
“Antonio Julius Falco.”
The moment his name was called, I shot out of Twitch’s lap and rushed over to the fairly young doctor. Where I found the energy was anyone’s guess. “Yes. That’s me.”
I turned back to Twitch and couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes. Momentarily, I felt awful. In my manic state, I had forgotten about how he must be feeling. He had done such a good job of looking after me that I neglected to remember that this was not about me. It was about us. And perhaps, my usually strong man needed solace in my arms as much as I needed comfort from his.
Taking a small step back, I slipped my cold hand into his, held his eyes, and amended my statement. “That’s us.” I turned back to the doctor. “We’re his parents.”
“I’m Doctor Prahesh.” The doctor watched us both closely a second. “Your son was given a fairly high dose of Phenergan. The amount he was given has led to an overdose. We’ve administered activated charcoal. We use this to treat poisoning. What this does is stop any further absorption in the gut and trap the toxins to be expelled otherwise.” He looked over at Twitch. “Antonio has been placed in ICU.” The conversation took a turn when the doctor’s lips thinned, and he admitted, “We were hoping to see some kind of result by now, but so far, there’s no change in his vitals.” My gut sank as he went on. “His breathing is what we’re most concerned about.”
My heart thumped as I tried to make sense of what he was saying.
“But he hasn’t worsened.” I squeezed Twitch’s hand. “That’s something, right?”
Typical Lexi. Always looking for a silver lining.
Doctor Prahesh agreed, “Most definitely.” He looked between us, a pair of panicked parents, and took pity, as he uttered, “You’re welcome to sit with him if you like.”
“Yes,” I said immediately as my tight shoulders drooped. “We’d like that.”
It wasn’t past my notice that Twitch’s hand was as clammy as it was. His jaw tight, he nodded, and his whiskey-smooth voice sounded far too gravelly for my liking. “Lead the way.”
And as if the world
was against us being with our son, the voice coming from behind stopped us with a sharp, “Antonio Falco.” The both of us spun around to find Sergeant Gabriel Blanco wearing a tight expression, and it was focused solely on Tony. When he spoke again, he didn’t bother with niceties. “I need you to come with me.”
Twitch looked the man up and down. His tone was purely bored, as he replied, “What for?”
“A woman is dead. I need a statement.”
Gabe, the man I’d had coffee with a dozen times, the man who consoled me through the absence of my son, peered at my husband as though he was a piece of shit. And, for the life of me, I couldn’t help myself.
I slipped my hand out of Twitch’s and slid in front of him, a human barricade. My eyes full of rage, I ignored the staccato beat of my heart and stepped toward the sergeant. “That monster poisoned my son, Gabe. She poisoned him, and I don’t know if he’s going to wake up.” My voice was deceptively calm as I tried in vain to steady my breathing. My hands shook when I forced the words out. “You want a statement? Okay. I’ll give one.” Looking Gabriel Blanco deep in the eyes, I didn’t stutter as I let the accusation fly. “All the resources in the world, and you couldn’t do in days what my family managed in one night.” Oh, they could try all right, but nobody was coming for us. No way, no how. “Tonight of all nights.” I shook my head lightly. “Shame on you, Sergeant Blanco.”
A moment of silence went by, and the longer the moment lasted, I could see Gabe Blanco question himself. And I was glad for it.
Taking Twitch’s hand once more, I looked at Gabe but spoke to my man. “Come on, honey.” My voice was drab, dry. “We should be there when he wakes up.”
As we walked away from our impending doom, Gabe called out, “You can’t run from this. I’ll be back.”
His fiery statement didn’t scare me.
We weren’t running.
The villain in our fairytale had finally been vanquished, once and for all.
No. We were done with running.
Twitch pulled me into his side and pressed a soft kiss to my brow. I placed my hand on his chest and sighed deeply, lovingly, as we walked closer and closer to the glue that held us together.
Our son.
The silence came as a reprieve, and right then, I came to realize the only place we would run to in the future was each other’s arms.
Because we belonged together and nothing could keep us apart.
***
Twitch
It had been twenty-four hours.
I was officially freaking the fuck out. And as Lexi slept in the chair in the corner of the room, I lay by my son on the narrow hospital bed, observing the tubes coming out of his mouth and nose, wondering how I had managed to put the person I loved more than life itself into this position.
Guilt was a fairly new emotion for me. I didn’t love it; that was for sure.
I was desperate.
And so I begged.
“You gotta wake up, bud.” You gotta because I can’t live with the shame. “Just open your eyes.” Please. “Your mom needs you.” I need you. “Please, buddy.” I shut my eyes tightly and swallowed hard, as I whispered, “I’m so sorry, son.”
I cried silently so as not to wake her.
It was the least I could do in this shitstorm I formed.
***
Lexi
“What are you doing?” I asked as Doctor Prahesh moved around A.J.’s bedside and surveyed the respirator that was keeping my son alive.
He pressed buttons on the machine and stayed silent a while before responding. “I think it’s time to see how A.J. goes about breathing on his own.”
Twitch was suddenly not sleeping anymore. He sat up, blinking drowsily. “Say what now?”
“What?” My mind fizzled a moment before it completely blacked out. “You want to turn off the one thing keeping my son alive?” I couldn’t have scoffed even if I wanted to. I leaned into him, frowning, and seethed, “Over my dead body.”
“Doc.” Twitch frowned. “I get this is your job and all, but—nah.”
But Doctor Prahesh didn’t see the seriousness in this situation. Instead, he smiled kindly. “I know this is difficult for you both, but A.J.’s vitals have improved considerably. His color has returned. His fever has subsided. And now, I’d like to compare his breathing to when he first came in. But I can’t do that if we don’t take him off the respirator.”
Parents were supposed to know what to do in these situations. They were meant to be strong and have a plan and trust their doctors. But as Tony and I glanced at each other, we wore matching expressions of uncertainty, and his uncertainty fuelled my own to levels a parent should not have had.
Nobody spoke a while.
“Do it,” Twitch said, and my eyes widened in shock.
My mouth parted lightly. “What? No!”
Twitch shuffled to the edge of the seat. “Baby, they can’t keep him on it forever.” His expression softened, and I swear there was a distinct sadness in his eyes. “Got to let him fall so he can fly on his own.”
It was a beautiful sentiment spoken at the wrong time.
My throat tightened, and I whispered anxiously, “What if he doesn’t fly? What if he hits the ground?”
Twitch looked down at the ground, and as he did, he bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t respond a long moment, but when he lifted his head, he shrugged. “No better place to fall than right here, angel.”
“The longer he’s on the machine, the more of a chance he has of developing pneumonia,” Doctor Prahesh said. “It’s been thirty-six hours. With your permission, I’d really like to try to wean sooner rather than later.”
My heart was at war with my head.
My body cold, my eyes bleak, I paced the length of the room, placing my fingertips over my mouth and weighing up the possible outcomes. Out of the twelve possible outcomes my mind conjured, only one of them turned out happily.
I didn’t like those odds.
I hated those odds.
Running a hand through my hair, I paced some more until I stood right in front of Tony. My voice quivered as I blinked away tears, and rambled, “I usually know what to do in hard situations, and I don’t know what to do here, Twitch. What if he doesn’t want to breathe on his own? What if he was hurt worse than we thought? I can’t lose him, and right now—” My voice was little over a hush. “—we could lose him.”
Twitch reached out and took my fingers between his. He caressed them a second before I spotted the way his cheek ticked. “Don’t say that,” he spoke quietly but firmly. “He’s strong, raised by a solid mother with the genes of his stubborn-ass father.” He didn’t look at me, and I wondered if it was because he was worried I’d see his own fear splashed across those beautiful eyes. “He’s not going anywhere. He’s coming out of this, baby.”
My eyes swept over to the little boy who looked even smaller in the bright white sheets of his hospital bed. So many tubes coming out of him. I wasn’t ready to let go. And as Twitch squeezed my fingers between his, I realized that maybe I didn’t have to.
He was right.
I would have to let my baby bird fall if I wanted him to fly.
“Okay.” Swallowing past the knot in my throat, I said the words calmly, even though every part of my soul ached. “Do it.”
With a short nod, Doctor Prahesh left the room and returned with a nurse. They worked in tandem with the nurse at the machine as the Doc gently worked on detaching the tube from the breathing tube. “And,” he uttered as my heart stopped, “now we see what our little Antonio is capable of.”
He removed the tube and watched carefully as he put a stethoscope to my son’s chest. And his chest was the only thing I could focus on.
It wasn’t moving.
My voice shook. “He’s not breathing.”
Doctor Prahesh listened closely. “Give him a second.”
Completely terrified, my body went rigid, as I panted out, “He’s not breathing, Twitch.”
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We watched closely in complete shock and horror as our son lay lifeless on the bed.
Doctor Prahesh frowned. Seconds passed by and he looked at the nurse. I didn’t like the look that was exchanged.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
Neither of them spoke.
“What’s happening?” I croaked out in panic.
Doctor Prahesh removed the stethoscope from my son’s chest and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when Twitch shot up out of his chair. “There.”
I looked to where he was pointing.
He was pointing at A.J.
More specifically, at his chest.
“There,” he said, moving forward toward the narrow bed.
Doctor Prahesh placed the stethoscope back on A.J., but it didn’t matter.
I could see.
Oh my God.
I could see it moving.
Thank you, God.
He was breathing.
Doctor Prahesh smiled as he listened through the instrument. “That’s the way,” he spoke low, to himself, and his smile widened. “Nice and deep.”
A shocked laugh shot up out of my throat, and I fought to breathe through it. Twitch turned to face me, but he wasn’t smiling. He was still, an unbreakable tree lost in a fight against a fierce hurricane.
I needed him to bend.
I needed him to bend before he broke.
“Honey.” I took a step forward.
He didn’t respond.
“Honey.” I touched his arm, and he looked down at the spot I’d touched before resting his turbulent gaze on mine. I smiled and softened my voice. “He’s breathing.” I sniffled. My eyes blurred with unshed tears before I laughed out, “He’s breathing.”
“He’s breathing,” confirmed an ecstatic-looking Doctor Prahesh. “He’s off the ventilator and breathing on his own.” He twisted back to look at us. “That’s the best we could ask for.”
“Why—?” Twitch tried to speak but cut himself off. He tried again, slower this time, and the thick emotion I heard in his voice had me moving toward him, pressing myself into his side. “Why isn’t he awake?”