All Blues

by Marie Wathen

  “I’m lost,” I confess, drying my face with a scratchy hand towel.

  “Truthfully, I wouldn’t have known anything about you if it wasn’t for my connection with Sam.”

  “Wait, what? You’re related? I thought that she was in foster care.” Suddenly interested in knowing everything about the mysterious beauty, I prattle off a bunch of questions, “Does she have more family? Does she know you? How is she not going to know that I’m there? Won’t she be able to see me?”

  “Sam’s story is for her to tell, Mr. Sloane,” he advises, holding up a hand to stop my rant. “And when the time is right, you will know everything. Concerning her knowing about me, the answer is no. For now, it is vital to our agreement that she continues not knowing of my existence. As for your last question, she was injured a few hours ago. She is currently in the hospital, unconscious, but alive.”

  “You fucking asshole!” I lose my shit on the bastard. “The whole damn time that I’ve been here, that you’ve kept me here, Angel has been in the goddamn hospital?”

  “I’ve been keeping tabs on her,” he defends, holding up his cell phone.

  “Take me to her now!” Still grumbling, I grab my sport coat and rush toward the front door. “I should beat your ass for delaying me this long. Move!” I glare over my shoulder at him, grabbing up his stuff and following me. “And I’m driving.”

  Using my intoxicated state from earlier as an excuse, he glares at me and I hold it for 0.1 seconds before I snatch the keys out of his hand. The old man has lost his ever-loving mind if he thinks that I’ll ride shotgun and sit quietly while he drives like a blue-haired granny to see my girl. Resigning, he gets in the passenger side. I drop behind the steering wheel, starting up the black Crown Vic and smiling when I realize that it is a police outfitted model. There isn’t a governor on it to keep me from hauling ass down the lonesome interstate toward Canton Baptist Medical Center. My stomach twists into ropes of worry. Lord, I need Angel. Please don’t take her from me. This prayer repeats no less than fifty times on the drive.

  Inside, Max guides me through the hospital up to the fifth floor. The place is silent and the minimal night shift staff members are scattered throughout the floor doing rounds. We walk past the nurses’ station, and he stops outside of one of the rooms where the door is closed.

  “This is her room,” he tells me. “You’ll have five minutes. No more. Eyes are everywhere and I’m not risking anyone seeing us here. It will only endanger her more.”

  I know what he is saying is right, especially when I think about my two bodyguards possibly following us here, but I don’t know if I can keep my promise once I see her. Grudgingly, I nod. He pushes open the door and immediately we see the backside of a nurse, who glances up from the chart in her hand. She bends down, blocking our view of the patient, and speaks too softly for me to hear. Max nods at her and then moves around the privacy curtain, also obstructing our view. When I see Angel, lying lifeless in the bed, my breathing crystallizes inside my chest, killing me.

  “Sam, God, I’m so sorry,” Max laments, like he’s the one to lay blame for her being in the hospital.

  Rage stirs in my veins, hot and menacing because of the confusion about what happened to her tonight. Max moves toward her, but I rush around him, cutting his path off. Smartly, he yields.

  With a whispery voice that cracks from anguish, I ask, “What happened?”

  “The medics who brought her in last night said that she was in an accident.” The nurse shakes her head. “Motorcycles are terribly dangerous.”

  Bending down, my hand trembles as it lifts to touch the side of her face carefully. My fingers tip the edge of her jaw line. I look over every inch of her beautiful face, forcing down the rage threatening to consume me. Her head has a bulky bandage dotted with dark red blood stains. There isn’t significant injury to her face, only a few thin lines cut along her chin and a dried bloody spot on her forehead near her hairline, like it dripped from the part that is covered. Thank god for her motorcycle helmet, otherwise, this could have been the worst night of my life. I shake my head roughly, dismissing where that depressing thought was leading.

  “Doll,” I breathe out shakily. I’m afraid to wake her, because she can’t know that I am here, but I need so damn desperately to see her stellar grey eyes just to confirm that she really is okay.

  “Don’t fret, sugar, she’s gonna be just fine,” the nurse assures with a deep southern drawl. “She ain’t spoken, but that’s ‘cause she just did come out of surgery.” I wince, my eyebrows scrunching while biting on my lip, and she quickly adds, “Her arm was real nasty, but doc says it should heal nicely. That’s a pretty bad bump on her head too. We’ll take care of her though, I promise. Try not to worry your head too much. Your girl there is a fighter.” Because I’m balancing on a thin, frail tightrope of sanity, I can’t respond. I may not know much about Angel, but there is no doubt in my mind that she is tough. I just pray that after she recovers from this she will have the strength to endure our turbulent future too. Scooting around the foot of the hospital bed, the nurse says, “I’ll leave ya’ll with the sweet child.”

  Unable to break my concentration or my gaze from her angelic face, Max answers, “Thank you.”

  Seeing her like this renews my need to protect her. “Swear to me that nothing like this will ever happen to her again.”

  “Mr. Sloane, you know that is an impossible request.” When I cut a death stare at him, he sighs and shakes his head. “Sam isn’t exactly the type of person one can make do a damn thing.” A smile tips the corner of his lips, and there is definitely pride glowing from his grey eyes–eyes that match identically to Angel’s, or Sam’s. “You have three minutes,” he reminds me walking toward the doorway, “Make them count.”

  After he closes the door, I allow my eyes to roam over her, and my irritation with him withers away into the gloom of her pain. There are scratches covering her neck and a portion that I can see on her uncovered right shoulder. Straightening up, I tug the unsnapped hospital gown sleeve back over it and quickly press the four buttons together. Her left arm is lying across her stomach wrapped in a cast from the bend of her fingers to just below the crook in her elbow. The pads of my fingertips skim over the rough plaster traveling down to her fingers. The color isn’t natural; it’s too dark, like there is a problem with her circulation. As gently as possible, I lift her arm while bringing my face down too and kissing each finger softly. After placing it back down, I lift the sheet covering her body carefully and allow my hands to roam over her right hip, her thigh, her knee, and her foot, placing an innocent and loving kiss along each section. I cover her again, and then move around to the other side where I repeat the entire process. I need to ensure that she’s okay while promising her with my lips in a way that words can’t that I will do everything in my power to keep her from ever experiencing this much pain again.

  After journeying back to her face, I press my forearm against the cool bedrail so that I can lean in closely. Delicately, I kiss every inch, from forehead to chin, worshiping while whispering how sorry I am that I couldn’t stop this from happening. Swallowing down the thickness jammed in my throat, I tell her, “We don’t know each other well, but I’m going to change that as soon as you open your gorgeous eyes, doll.” Exhaling softly, I brush hair behind her ear and just stare at the tiny earlobe for several long seconds. Turning my attention back to her long lashes fanned out over the top curve of her cheek, I will her eyes to open and confess, “I need to see them, Angel. They ground me to this earth, and right now, I’m spinning out of control without you. Please, come back to me.” I beat back the sob working its way out of my constricted chest and look at her closed lids, willing the lord above to open them right this very second. “You have to wake up. I need you…I want you in my life, Sam,” I beg, my eyes settling on her full, bow-shaped lips.

  The door creaks open and then Max calls, “Mr. Sloane.”

  “One more minute,” I plead, movin
g my hands to the sides of her face, drawing closer while brushing away feathery strands from beside her cheeks with my thumbs.

  I don’t know if he leaves, but I hear the door shut, and then I offer a whisper of a kiss to the corner of her mouth. The whole time that I’ve been here, she hasn’t moved or made a sound, until now. Her lips part just the tiniest bit, allowing a puff of air combined with a soft whimper to pass over mine. It makes my heart race and my quivering chin threatens to interrupt this amazing moment.

  I warn, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  Quenching my immediate need, I deplete every single second of that one minute, brushing and coaxing her lips with a quiet attack. Right before I stop, her lips pucker slightly and she kisses me back. With a soft groan, I match her tenderness and keep the pace slow. It is almost too much to pull away, but I don’t want her waking up feeling creeped out by finding me taking advantage of her this way. With my mouth still grazing her cool lips, I promise with a faint smile tugging at one corner of my mouth, “I’ll be waiting for you, my love, always.” My brain, heart and conscious are in an epic battle over walking away from her, but for now, I must.

  Leaving the hospital, a blinding ray of sunlight crests on the distant horizon, its golden liquid ribbons peek between two tall buildings, and they bring a renewed affirmation. Love isn’t something that we shelter, it is the most important thing that we have in life and we are supposed flourish it. Starting today, my love will mend old and new wounds alike, and I will launch this new quest of healing with the person that I want to share it with the most, my Angel.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  My phone rings, and I hold my finger over the answer button allowing the third ring to end before answering, “What the hell have you found out? I’m going insane here, Jude.”

  “Need you to get your ass over to my house now,” he insists anxiously.

  “You son of a bitch, is she there with you?”

  “Yes” he heaves a defeated sigh, “I know that you’re pissed because I didn’t call you when I found her, but I have a good explanation.”

  “I don’t want to hear it! I’m in my car.” Before hanging up, I insist, “Leave when I get there.”

  Backing out of my garage, I calm myself as much as possible with a small pep talk, but really, even though I know where and how she is, I am a pathetic mess. “Angel is fine. You’ve kept a check on her for the past three days and soon she will be back in your arms again. Just relax.” Rolling down the interstate at ninety miles an hour while I carry on a conversation with myself is probably a little extreme. Okay it’s crazy, but I need to see her and hear from her mouth that she’s feeling well again, and the sooner the better. Max assures me that he will have answers soon about what happened to her.

  Jude meets me outside his door, blocking me from going inside. With wild eyes glancing from the front window to me and then back again, he lowers his voice and rushes, “She freaked out earlier, but she’s resting now.”

  “What caused her to freak?”

  Fearfully, he scrunches up his face and shakes his head. “Decks thought Angel’s disappearance was retaliation. He ordered a hit on Juan’s nephew back in Tayoltita. He’s dead and somehow she put it all together and figured out that he did it because of her. She’s feeling real guilty.” He cusses under his breath about needing a smoke.

  My body jerks with a weird spasm, like I just took a solid hit to the chest with this information. I hiss, “No! He told me yesterday morning that he would wait.”

  After two days without anyone on Decks’ crew discovering her location, I went to his place just to see where his head was because of her vanishing. Like I was expecting, he was losing his mind, but there was something strange going on too. He was extremely ill. One minute he was raving like a mad man and then a beat later he was puking his guts out.

  Exhaling loudly, Jude thrusts a hand through his hair and then pushes, “He fucking lied.”

  “Clearly,” I agree, staring at the front door. “I should have known better than to trust him. He confessed that he felt like Angel lied about her trip out of town last week. Apparently, he located the address for the friend in Savannah, but waited on checking out her story until after she failed to show up on New Year’s Eve. Jerrik drove down and then reported back that her friend definitely lives there. She was extremely concerned and insisted that she left on schedule, returning back here. With that information, Decks was instantly convinced that Juan went after her. Before I left, he was calm and assured me that he would keep searching. The fucking bastard!”

  “Yeah, he cussed me out and then threatened that if she dies he will deal with me for failing.”

  I growl, “He is the one who should have dealt with Juan in the first damn place!” Popping my neck, I take a deep breath and then ask, “Where has Angel been?”

  Cringing, he confesses, “She was in the hospital.”

  “Why in the hell couldn’t you find her before today?” Performing according to Max’s instructions, my eyes narrow on him accusingly and I see him gulp hard. It isn’t fair that I’m withholding things from him or making him feel like shit, but this isn’t about being reasonable and forthcoming. Not when his life is in danger from this same deadly scenario.

  “We searched everywhere,” he defends, “That damn hospital didn’t have an Angel Johnson. None of them did. I…” he pauses.

  “You what, Jude?”

  “I fucking forgot that her real name is Huldah Johnson.” There is absolutely no humor in his voice. Keeping my fake anger in control is a challenge when he mentions this, not just because of that ridiculous name, but because that isn’t even her real name. I thank fuck for that miracle too.

  He’s not telling me something, I can feel it. Impatiently, I demand, “What else?”

  “Angel called Nat, who didn’t tell me where we were going, just that I needed to go with her. Once I realized we were heading toward the hospital, I got pissed. Murph was with us, so I couldn’t call you. On the car ride back home, Angel asked if she could stay here and then begged us not to mention anything to Decks. After getting a look at her, Murph kind of went into a beastly protective mode, wouldn’t even let her walk the ten steps into the house. He knows Decks’ fragile mental state at the moment, and yet, for her, he agreed on keeping his mouth shut.”

  “Huh?” I grunt, completely shocked that Murph would disobey Decks, especially where a woman is concerned. His attraction to Angel is clear. Everyone knows his intentions are to make her his. Most importantly, no one in his crew ever defies one of his direct orders. “Murph is making a risky move, protecting her.”

  “Shocked the shit out of me too,” Jude agrees, forcing a small smile. Narrowing my eyes on him, I wait to see if there’s more. It still feels like he’s hiding something important from me.

  “Let her stay here one more day before you tell Decks.” He nods while exhaling loudly. “All right, I’m going up to see her.” Pushing open the door, I glare over my shoulder.

  Bobbing his head and walking toward the kitchen, he answers my silent order, “I know. We’re leaving.” Then he calls, “Nat, let’s go pick up dinner!”

  “I’m not leaving Angel alone,” she challenges from the other room, and he growls storming off to convince her otherwise.

  Upstairs, standing in front of her bedroom door, I recite the plan to myself once more while begging the lord above to never let her know about my deceit before I rap my knuckles softly on the rough wood.

  “Come in,” Angel’s hoarse voice calls through the door.

  Even though, I’m falling to pieces and want to drag her off like a caveman so I can protect her, I remind myself that I have a new mission, and Max assures me she isn’t in danger. Entering the room, I swallow hard and say, “Hey.”

  Weakly, she leans up on her elbow. I walk over and sit down on her bed, feeling calmer almost instantly just by being near her. For several seconds she just looks at me, like she can’t believe that I’m here. “What
are you doing here?”

  “I came by to see you, of course.” She continues to stare questioningly, and I hold her gaze for only another moment. Being away from her for so long, while knowing that she is hurt has been too much. The need to hold her is too damn strong to fight. I slide in behind her, pressing my back against the headboard, and then draw her down against my chest. Instantly, the crushing feeling in my chest subsides, and I place a kiss to her hair, closing my eyes to relish in the relief.

  “Blues…” her voice is warning. Alarmed, my eyes pop open, and I glance down at her. The cast on her left arm catches my attention, and I wince while touching it carefully. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to do this in Wise’s house.”

  “They went out. We’re all alone, Doll.”

  She turns her head, facing me, and asks with a smile spreading across her pale lips, “Are we now?”

  She looks better than the last time that I saw her, but her injuries are still very noticeable. Her uninjured hand reaches up and cups the side of my face. Her touch is an elixir to my tormented hell, and I let out an unsteady whoosh of breath.

  She becomes concerned for me, and I confess that when she didn’t show up at Holidays, I was worried. Drawing from every bit of my strength, I force away all the thoughts I have of confessing to working with Max, and that I came to see her at the hospital. Mostly though, I rein in my overwhelming urges to admit the feelings that I for her. It’s too soon, I admonish silently. Our time together grows quiet and we stay wrapped in each other’s arms until the Kingsley’s return home. She looks at me with sadness in her eyes, reflecting back everything that I’m feeling. Reluctantly, I leave and on the drive home I call Max, telling him about her temporary housing and giving an update on her condition.

  The next morning, I arrive at work around midmorning and make my way directly to Nelson. Since the break up with Lourdes, he has given me the cold shoulder. There’s no telling what lies she’s filled his head with, and I haven’t had the energy to deal with it. That’s all about to change. One final attempt. I must try at least once more to get his confession.