by Devon Ashley
My body became heavy-footed, fearful of nearing that winking knife. But still, even as my heart tried to burst from my chest and painful stings coursed rapidly through me, I refused to let it immobilize me, sliding my feet along the floor.
“The money’s gone. There isn’t anything left.”
“Bullshit!” Brad’s lips curled inside his mouth and he bit down, his face becoming irate. Jake cried in pain as he was jerked completely in front of him like a shield, the knife settling atop his shoulder. Panic attacked my insides, and I squeaked and came to a dead stop, my head beginning to erratically shake. “Don’t!” I shouted quickly.
Brad’s attention suddenly shifted to my right and I dared a glance myself. Shane was slipping past the corner into the room with us, his eyes set hard on Brad. “Don’t do this man,” he said firmly. “This’ll only end with jail time.”
Brad just stood there staring for a moment, his jaw hung in the air, taking in Shane in his flannel bottoms and me in nothing but a grey t-shirt way oversized for my frame. Wiping beads of sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, the knife swiped the air again. “YOU FUCKED HER?! ARE YOU GODDAMN KIDDING ME?!” I had no idea what Shane’s facial response was because I was too fixated on Jake, his eyes pleading with my own. It’ll be okay, I mouthed, forcing a smile. “You’ve got sluts begging you to shove your dick inside them, but you just had to fuck MY GIRL, didn’t you?! You’re supposed to me on MY SIDE, not THAT FUCKING CUNT’S!”
“I’ve been putting up with your sorry ass for five years!” Shane yelled back. “Look at what you’re doing! He’s just a kid, Brad!”
“I. Want. My FUCKING MONEY!” he shouted, his whole body jerking, and Jake right along with him, who squeezed his eyes shut, too terrified to move, his mouth open and trembling, silently screaming.
“Okay!” I shouted, drawing everyone’s attention, my hands out in front of me, patting against the air. “Okay,” I said more softly. “You’re right. I still have it,” I lied. “I’ll take you to it, but you have to leave Jake here with Shane.”
“What? No!” I heard Shane snap. “No one leaves this room!” he angrily demanded.
“Shut up, Shane,” I threatened. There was no way in hell I was letting that asshole hold my baby any longer. I’d gladly take him on – tell him I buried it in the woods for a rainy day, then run off and try to lose him in the darkness. He was three sheets to the wind and seriously dehydrated. No way he wouldn’t collapse with a little effort. And he was so twitchy he could barely keep a grip on the knife, which was already too close to my baby’s throat. “I’m serious,” I said to the maniac glaring me down. “Just you and me. Otherwise that money never sees the light of day again.”
“Mel!” Shane hissed, but I put my hand out between us, silently telling him to shut up.
Brad considered it a moment, looking back and forth between me and Shane. Then I remembered. As drunk and ill as he seemed physically, he was still one of those damn functioning drunks, who were so used to the alcohol that they were capable of some level of critical thinking and physical strength.
This may not be as easy as I originally thought.
I swallowed hard, awaiting his decision. Shane also became quiet, hopefully calculating a better plan than I was. “Alright,” Brad said, pushing himself and Jake closer to my side of the sofa. Glaring hard towards Shane, he added, “Any tricks and I will stab her. All I want is my money. When I have it, she can go.”
I saw it coming, but I was in no way prepared to have the side of that cold, shiny piece of metal pressing against my neck. I automatically turned my head the opposite way, grateful to see Jake rushing for Shane’s arms but horrified to have a slick hand yanking my upper arm. The irony of how I once felt protected in this man’s arms wasn’t lost on me.
I wanted to see Shane once more, to express how much I appreciated him if this all went south, especially since my baby was probably burying himself within his grasp, but I was viciously spun towards the front door before my eyes could find him again. My arm was throbbing where he gripped, making the pounding in my chest all the more obvious. My heart realized this was an incredibly stupid idea, so why the hell hadn’t my brain figure it out before I opened my mouth?
Suddenly, I was yanked back and screaming, slamming onto limbs and God knows what. The knife no longer against my skin, I instinctively rolled, but in my panic I went the wrong way and got blindsided by the back of the sofa. I groaned as I twisted myself up on my knees and hands, getting a swift kick to the side from one of the two bodies scuffling on the floor. Jake was on his butt at the edge of the hallway, looking like he had been shoved away from the fight as well.
Shane and Brad were cursing and grunting, swinging and kicking at anything and everything. All I could think of was getting to Jake, whose tears were pouring down his reddened face, calling out for me as he clung to the wall. I took the long way around the sofa and threw myself into his outstretched arms. I wasn’t sure who had a tighter death grip, my arms around his waist or his around my neck, both of us threatening to cut off the other’s air supply.
I was right about Brad being scrappy despite the poisons flowing within. If anything, his desperation drove him more. Shane was finally in control, sitting atop Brad, who just laid there and took a few punches. And I suddenly realized why as I saw that his hand was twitching on the ground, reaching for the knife.
“Baby, let go.” If anything, that only made Jake squeeze harder. “Baby, let go!” I cried, ripping his arms from my body and leaving him on the hall floor. I felt horrible making him scream and bawl, probably terrifying him even more in the process, but no way in hell was I taking him into that fight. I ran over and stomped on Brad’s wrist just as he snatched the butcher’s knife. He roared, but it wasn’t enough to get him to drop it.
He ripped his arm out from under me and a second later I felt an acute stinging sensation. Looking down, I saw blood trickling down my ankle, the skin just above it slashed open at least three inches. That’s all it took for the pain to register and my leg to give way. Shane yelled at me to run and get out of there, but that wasn’t an option anymore. I fell back on my hands, scooching myself awkwardly around the kitchen island and out of sight, dripping blood all the way. Jake bolted in from the opposite side and slammed into me, burying his eyes in my lap, his body trembling in fear. All I could do to comfort him was rub his back. I deepened my breaths and stilled my leg, trying desperately to bite back the burning pain. I squeezed the tears from my eyes, then glanced helplessly at the knife block out of reach on the counter – the one with a butcher knife missing.
I was preparing myself for the pain of rising to reach for it when all went silent. Then nothing but heavy breathing. I was completely helpless and just ten feet away, and utterly afraid to call out to see if it was Shane who answered. Panic mode set in like never before and I twisted to reach into the cabinet beside me, yanking out the largest skillet I had, not caring about the clamoring metal echoes that followed.
I swallowed hard as the one left standing – or in this case laying – groaned painfully. I sighed with relief the moment a mop of brown hair surfaced instead of blond, and let the pan fall to the floor. Wrapping both arms around Jake, I shushed him and whispered sweetly that it was alright now. Probably because I needed to be convinced of it as much as he did.
Shane limped towards us, favoring his left side. He was bloody in places and he had a busted lip, but it didn’t look like he got stabbed anywhere. Unlike me.
“You okay?” he asked as he dumped the knife on the counter, swiped the kitchen towel and kneeled down before me. I shook my head with a pained expression, still holding my breath a bit, trying to focus on anything but the searing pain that felt like fire licking relentlessly against my skin. Shane folded the towel lengthwise a few times, then wrapped it around my cut and yanked tightly to knot it. I screamed and cursed, my chest jerking as my exhalation came out in tearful bursts. This time I didn’t stop my eyes from flowin
g.
He grabbed my chin. Not forcefully, but he made sure my saturated eyes could see him through the blur. “Don’t you ever do that again. You get Jake to safety and let me deal with the piece of shit in the house.”
“He was going for the knife,” I rebutted weakly. Hell, I knew he was right. I had the injury to prove it.
“I knew what he was doing! But I can’t focus on fighting him when you’re close enough to get hurt. Next time you get the hell out of the way and stay gone until I come for you. Got it?”
I nodded, squeezing my eyes to squish out the pooled tears. He calmed and released me, kissing my forehead and stroking Jake’s head, whose face was buried in my body.
I could hear sirens wail in the distance. Shane didn’t seem surprised like me, so I figured he must’ve figured out what was going on and called the police before coming down the hallway tonight. He stood up to open the front door, which had a busted window and glass nearby that he had to sidestep with his bare feet, then he went to check on Brad.
“Is he dead?” I asked in a whisper.
He shook his head solemnly. “Just knocked out.” Coming to sit beside me, he stroked Jake’s back. “Hey little man,” he said soothingly, “why don’t you sit in my lap so Mommy can rest, huh?” Jake’s head tilted just enough to uncover one teary eye. “Come on,” Shane encouraged. “She’s not going anywhere right now.”
It took about ten seconds for the two of them to come to understanding through their eyes, but eventually, Jake’s grip began to slip. I sighed as the pressure released from my tightened muscles. I rolled my head their way and smiled. Jake’s body looked like it was meant to be wrapped up in Shane’s arms, and although he continued to hold my hand, he seemed content resting his head on Shane’s far shoulder.
“Where’s your cape?” Jake asked softly.
“My cape?” Shane asked with confusion.
“You didn’t change into your super clothes. How come you won?”
“Oh,” he replied, readjusting the two into a more comfortable position. “Well, it’s not the clothes that make the superhero,” Shane explained thoughtfully. He gently poked at Jake’s heart. “It’s you. The strength will always be inside you. But not everyone chooses to hide their identity when they use it.”
“Oh. Are you going to leave now?” he asked sadly, looking up at Shane, seeming a little scared by his question.
“What?” we both asked quickly.
“Superheroes always leave once they save the day.”
Shane hugged him tighter and began to sway gently side to side. It pulled our hands apart but Jake didn’t seem to mind now. “No, little man. I’m not going to leave you. Or your mother.” He kissed Jake on top of his head, whispering, “Never.”
He turned his head to me then, silently mouthing, “You okay?”
I looked down to my leg, the fiery pain intensified now that a towel was tied snuggly around it. I was screaming inside, fighting the pain with every fiber of my being, but I still turned his way and nodded yes. Officer Mike came through the front door then, gun drawn as he swept the room visually. He spotted me and nodded, but bent down out of my view, somewhere on the other side of the island, and Sheriff Litskin entered in behind him.
He headed our way, immediately assessing our bodies. “You three alright?”
I nodded, and I assumed Shane did, too. Sheriff Litskin confirmed with dispatch through his walkie-talkie that an EMT was on its way and then went back to assist the two officers now standing over Brad. Ten minutes later Brad was lifted onto a stretcher and rolled out, still unconscious. Charlie, the same guy who dressed my wound last week, was still wrapping my foot with gauze to keep me covered until I got to the hospital myself. Brad just cost me more stitches.
Turned out Shane also got swiped with the knife, but the wound to his backside was superficial, so all he was going to get was a dressing taped to his skin. Jake had fallen asleep in his lap, so he carried him to the sofa for the time being. He had just covered him up with a blanket when a shot pierced the air. Everyone in the room jerked their heads for the front door. Charlie and I sat still, waiting for the all-clear. Outside, several voices began yelling with heated voices all at once. Shane took off before I could stop him, hurrying for the door. “Shane! No!”
He disappeared outside, right when more shots popped and echoed through the air. And I knew. The way my heart stopped in that moment… I just knew.
I felt numb, my stomach tied in so many knots I just wanted to throw up. Again.
I sat on the edge of my bed in a simple black dress that had seen way too many of these days. I was ready to burn the thing. Maybe that would end the constant death around me. I wasn’t crying anymore, but I had a tissue in my right hand, my fingers twisting and rolling it up on itself.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
“Are you ready to go?” Karen asked from the opening of my bedroom. “Funeral begins in thirty minutes.”
I sighed and continued twisting the tissue in my hand. “Where’s Jake?” I softly asked. It was sad really. I should’ve known where my kid was. But he had been so quiet these past few days, hardly speaking, hardly eating. Hardly doing anything. His pediatrician said it was normal after something like this. Post-traumatic stress disorder. Hell, I knew what it was. It happened to him after Joyce died. Took him months before he truly got back to himself.
“He’s out front already. Susie’s watching him.”
I let out one more heavy sigh before I got to my feet. I was still limping from the cut in my leg, but at least with the pain killers, I was able to walk on it now. Standing before the dresser mirror, I leaned in to examine my red, puffy eyes. I dabbed with the tissue, trying to wipe my smeared mascara. I probably shouldn’t have put that on today, but oh well.
“I’m really getting tired of funerals, Karen.”
Her reflection grimaced beside me. “You’ve definitely had your fair share. I mean, what are we supposed to do? Never get to know people? Never love people? We’ve got to take the good with the bad.”
“Well, I definitely feel ready to shut myself down for a bit.”
“Come on,” she said gently, wrapping her arm around my shoulder to pull me into motion. “Let’s do this as quickly as possible. It’ll be easier once we lay him to rest and get it behind us.”
I knew she was right, so I let her guide me all the way outside and into her Jeep. I sat beside Jake in the back seat, my arm wrapped around him. I’d ask him if he was ready to talk about it, but I knew he wasn’t even without asking. He understood death now and what it meant at the end of the day.
Karen drove us to the cemetery on the edge of town, where there were so many trees it was hard for sunlight to penetrate the ground. It made the cemetery moist, the overgrowth of moss making the air smell musty, like wet earth. Like death.
There was a collection of chairs near the freshly dug ground, an awning popped overhead, but for what purpose, I didn’t know. The three of us just sat in silence on the front row, with Jake in between us, until a group of guys began carrying the casket over. I recognized quite a few of them, all team members of Shane’s from high school. Like Matt, they were all still local, or close enough to swing by and pay their respects to an old friend. They set the casket above the earth that would become its new permanent home, then settled in the seats around us.
Before he sat down on the far end by Chelsie, Matt and I exchanged a horrible excuse for a smile. I immediately leaned into the body that sat beside me, his arm wrapping around me as I rested my head against his shoulder. Shane kissed my temple and whispered that it would be alright. He knew how much the guilt was eating me alive. Despite all the things Brad had done as of late, I never would’ve wished him death. But he didn’t really give the officers much of a choice when he awoke in the ambulance and snatched the officer’s gun, who was preparing to handcuff him to the railing. He didn’t shoot that officer, and that I gave him credit for, but when he stumbled out of the ambulance and
faced a standoff with the remaining officers, he wasn’t going to go quietly. Brad actually opened fire. Probably just to scare them off, seeing as how he didn’t hit anyone, but it didn’t matter at that point. He had opened fire against them, and when he wouldn’t put the gun down, they had to put him down. Poor Shane got outside just in time to watch his best friend die. I couldn’t even imagine… Just knowing what happened haunted my dreams.
So many things could’ve kept this from happening. At so many points in my life I could’ve checked on him, tried to be there for him, tried to heal the pain between him and Joyce. But I did nothing. I let him keep running, let him keep deteriorating until the point he was hardly recognizable. And it hurt that someone I used to love so dearly fell apart on me. That Jake’s biological father would never be there for him on any level.
After a few minutes, Jake stood and moved to climb into Shane’s lap, burying his little head into the opposite side of his neck. Seeing how comfortable Jake had become with him earned me my first smile in days. I could hardly say how long the service was or what was spoken, just that I was there. Along with a few others. Not surprisingly, Brad didn’t have a lot of fans in the end. But some of his high school friends who heard about it were willing to come and say goodbye to the version of him they used to know – the all-star pitcher who led them to multiple winning seasons. And of course, everyone in town eventually heard about the robbery and shootout. We hadn’t seen this much crime in twenty years. From what little gossip I caught while out these past few days, I was suddenly glad I had officially changed Jake’s last name to match mine after Joyce died. The last thing I wanted was for people to realize Jake was his kid and attach him indefinitely to this nightmare. And since Brad never actually gave his sample inside the clinic that day, no one but a few would ever know the truth.