Angel Dreams (An Angel Falls Book 2)

by Jody A. Kessler

  “Go see who it is,” I say, but she ignores it and the next round of knocking.

  She reaches for another one of the capsules out of the baggie.

  “Stop doing that. This is the universe telling you there are other options.”

  “Corrine? I know you’re home. It’s me, Juliana. Open the door.”

  Juliana is here! What is she doing? Has she lost her mind? My gaze is fixed to Corrine’s face. After Juliana announces her arrival, Corrine squeezes her eyes closed. Her fingers turn white as she clutches the glass.

  “I have something to tell you. It’s about your mom. Come on, open up!”

  Corrine’s eyes quiver beneath her eyelids. She hasn’t swallowed another pill, but she hasn’t moved to answer the door either. My initial shock passes as quickly as it had come and I practically fly through the house to get outside. The walls mean nothing to me. I pass through them like gliding through the air. Startling Juliana, however, is a bit more dramatic. Albeit was not my intention to do so, the appeal of watching her jump has its own value. When she realizes it’s me, her face morphs through a few different emotions. I don’t have time to dwell on it.

  “She’s in the kitchen swallowing pills. Go inside and stop her,” I say. I didn’t realize it would be so difficult to speak to Juliana again. Two short sentences felt like being strangled while trying to talk. We’re not supposed to see each other again. I swore to myself I would quit bringing her pain, and now here she is helping my client.

  Juliana doesn’t say anything, but I know she heard me because she immediately reaches for the doorknob. Her wrist turns and her body moves forward but the door doesn’t give. It’s locked. She slaps a hand on the weathered wood and her eyes close for a longer than necessary blink.

  “Corrine, I have to tell you about your mom. Please open the door.”

  She pounds her fist against the door. Chips of the crackling brown paint fleck off and flitter to the ground around her feet.

  “She’s on her way here, Corrine. I talked to her and she’s coming to get you.”

  “Her mom? You spoke with her? That’s incredible.” This is the answer to Corrine’s problems. Her mother is coming for her.

  My helplessness is a pitiful disaster. I feel like I can’t do anything but watch.

  “Is there another way in?” Juliana asks as she takes a few panicked steps back and looks around the side of the house.

  “I’m sure it’s locked too. Travis is a paranoid freak. Break a window if you have to.”

  Juliana looks down at the ground for a rock, or something else to throw. We’re running out of time. It may already be too late. I don’t know what the large dose of drugs is going to do to Corrine, but my imagination is scaring the piss out of me.

  Juliana pries one of the stones loose from an old flower bed in front of the house. It’s bigger than a brick and should do a good job on one of the front windows.

  “I’m going back inside,” I say.

  Then we hear the doorknob. We both watch as the tarnished brass jiggles and then turns. Jules drops her rock and runs to the door.

  “Corrine, what did you do?” she asks, as she pushes her way inside.

  “My mom?” Corrine asks weakly.

  “Yes, she’s only a few hours away. What did you take, Corrine?”

  “Take? I, uh…Oh, Jules.”

  Corrine is looking up at Juliana with fear and horror plastered all over her petite face.

  “I don’t feel so well,” Corrine says as she sways dangerously to one side.

  “The pills are in the kitchen,” I say.

  Juliana steers Corrine to the couch and then runs into the kitchen. “Where’s your phone?” she yells from the other room.

  “There isn’t one,” I answer. “Only cells. Travis has them. Are you going to call an ambulance?” I ask as Juliana picks up the baggie and the pill bottle on the counter. She shakes it lightly and the rattling sound seems to echo in the small room. Corrine only swallowed the capsules then.

  “Darn! I don’t have a phone with me either,” she says. Then she looks at me and adds, “She has to vomit.”

  Juliana opens every cabinet. Standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, I watch Jules rush around the kitchen as Corrine begins to bawl her eyes out on the couch.

  “What are you looking for?” I ask. “Maybe I’ve seen it.”

  “Ipecac? Or spices?” she says, as she continues to search the kitchen.

  “Spices are above the stove and to the right, but there isn’t much, and probably no ipecac.”

  Juliana halts, one hand floating in mid-air as it reaches for a drawer and her other hand is on a cupboard knob. Then without warning, she smacks her forehead with an open palm and a loud “thwap.”

  “What am I doing in here? It’s in my car,” she says as she spins on a heel and runs out of the house.

  Confused, I shake my head and go over to Corrine. Tears stream out of her eyes. She lays on her side, curled up like a sad little hedgehog.

  “Who are you?” she asks as I approach.

  “Nathaniel,” I answer slowly. This is it then. She sees me. She must be very close to death. It happens to many people. Their body is still alive but the spirit is beginning to vacate and becomes aware of other dimensions.

  “I’ve got it,” Juliana says in a breathy rush through the living room. She’s holding her purple shoulder bag. The same one she takes hiking, or camping. It’s not very large but seems to be a one-and-all, and everything in-between, multipurpose catch-all. She runs straight into the kitchen with it. “Keep her awake,” she commands as if she’s forgotten I’m invisible.

  I hear running water and then a few seconds later Juliana is next to us, holding a glass of water and a small brown bottle.

  “Sit up, Corrine. This is going to help.”

  “Can’t. Too tired.”

  “Don’t you dare fall asleep. You have to stay awake for your mom.”

  “My mom’s alive? Are you sure?” Corrine asks through a series of sniffles.

  “Yes. Now, drink this,” Jules says as she pries Corrine off her side and props her up against the couch.

  “Nooo,” she moans. “Everyone will be better without me.”

  “Stop it. Open your mouth.”

  “She’s not doing well. She can already see me. Do you understand what that means?”

  “Is he your boyfriend?” Corrine says sleepily to Juliana. “Congratulations,” she slurs. “He’s super cute.”

  “Corrine, I mean it. Open up.”

  Corrine’s small pink lips part as she sits staring at me. Her pale blue eyes go in and out of focus. Jules tips about half of the small bottle’s contents into her mouth.

  Juliana didn’t answer Corrine’s question about my status in her life. I can feel her purposely not making eye contact with me, but the slight flush creeping over her ivory face is telling enough. I don’t say anything about our feelings for one another either. If things were less complicated, the answer would be easier than breathing, but I don’t even breathe, so how can I claim a girlfriend.

  “Now, swallow it.”

  She holds up the water to Corrine’s mouth and lets her drink.

  “That’s disgusting,” Corrine complains after taking about half of the water.

  “Can you stand up, Corrine? We’re going to the emergency room.”

  “No. I won’t go.”

  “I guess I’ll have to drag you then.”

  “No. Just let me sleep for a while and then I’ll go.”

  “Yeah, right. If you fall asleep you’re probably not going to wake up.”

  “Oh. Well, that’ll be for the best, I think.”

  “No, it’s not. Stay awake. Can you crawl? We have to get out of here.”

  “No,” Corrine says. Then she moans and puts her hand up to her mouth.

  “Don’t let her sleep,” Juliana says to me as she darts into the kitchen again.

  “What did you give her?” I call
out.

  “Lobelia. Its other name is puke weed,” she says as she returns with a trash can.

  As soon as the bin is under Corrine’s face, she heaves and an explosive geyser of liquid shoots out of her mouth and nose and splashes all over the plastic. I watch with amazement as the blood drains from Corrine’s face until she is roughly the same color as snow. As she tries to catch her breath, a shaky hand wipes at the fluid around her nose and mouth. Her color is alarming but the swiftness of her hands grabbing the trash can in time for the ensuing torrent of water, stomach acid, and partially dissolved capsules is somewhat reassuring.

  “Corrine, just get it out. Let it all go, and you’ll feel better,” I say trying to find any words of comfort.

  An unearthly roar from depths I didn’t know existed in someone so tiny wrench out of her again and again until the last bits of whatever was in her stomach comes up and out. Juliana keeps an arm wrapped around Corrine’s back for support while also holding her gold hair to the side so it doesn’t get wet.

  “We need to get her out of here,” Juliana says to me.

  “I know, and before Travis comes home.”

  “I think she’s about done. I’ll drag her to the car if I have to.”

  “Shit! I hate feeling so useless. Juliana, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t have come here. What if Travis comes home and finds you?”

  “I know it’s bad, but I talked to Jared before I left my house and he told me Travis was going out. We need to get her in the car, but I want to grab her things.”

  “Let’s go right now. Hurry,” I say.

  “Corrine, I’m going to take you to your mom. Can you try to stand?”

  Her throat sounds raw as she says, “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Watch her. There are still drugs in her system, but I think most of it came out. Her pulse feels steady and she’s breathing okay. I don’t think she’s in serious danger, for right now. I’ll grab her stuff and then we’ll leave.”

  “Corrine, is everything you own in your bedroom?” Jules asks.

  “Yes, but Travis will never let me go.”

  “We’re getting you out here,” Juliana says. She takes the soiled can from Corrine’s fingers and sets it to the side. She gently pushes Corrine back against the cushions and then stands up.

  “I’ll be fast.”

  Juliana dashes down the hall and returns with an armload of Corrine’s clothes. She runs out to her car and then back into the living room. After a second trip, she says, “We’re ready. Are you feeling any better?”

  “I’m so screwed. You should have let me do it. Travis is going to kill me after he sees his caps missing.”

  “I don’t know if she’s tripping, or passing out, but she’s higher than a kite,” I say as Juliana leans down and tries to help Corrine to her feet.

  “It’s both. Travis’s special blend. He sells them for thirty dollars a cap. I swallowed like,” Corrine pauses as her jumbled mind tries to calculate. She gives up and says, “hundreds of dollars’ worth. You should let me finish what I started,” she says again.

  She leans heavily against Juliana and the two of them make a slow trek toward the door. Corrine’s eyes are closed as she continues to babble. “He’ll murder me and steal my soul. Then use it to do wicked things.”

  Juliana uses Corrine’s words as motivation to move faster. “No, he won’t. You’re getting out of here for good.”

  “He’ll find another seeker. Poor thing, no one deserves to live with Travis.”

  “It’s got to be the drugs talking,” Juliana says and looks over her shoulder at me.

  “I think so. We want her to stay awake, right?”

  “Yeah, definitely. Talking is good.”

  “Why is your boyfriend so shady? He looks strange. Kinda see through. I think the pills are affecting my eyes, or something. Um, Nathaniel? Can you help us? My legs aren’t working so great.”

  I stare right into Corrine’s half open eyes. “I will do anything for you if I’m able. But we’re both having a rough day.”

  “Yeah? Life sucks, doesn’t it?” Corrine says, and then somehow the two of them have made it to Jules’ blue Saab.

  As she opens the door, Corrine nearly falls to the ground, but with a grunt of effort, Juliana manages to get Corrine onto the passenger seat.

  Juliana runs around to the driver’s side and it dawns on me that I may not be invited to tag along. Seeing her and being near her is a kind of agony I thought people made up and over exaggerated about. To have her this close and not be a part of her life anymore feels like I am dying all over again. I step away, not even realizing I’ve backed up into and through the side of Travis’s other BMW parked in the drive.

  As Juliana is about to duck into the car, she looks over at me and frowns. “What are you doing? We have to go.”

  I break eye contact with her immediately. I don’t want her to see my damaged ego. Then I’m inside the car before she realizes I’ve moved. Stay with Corrine and worry about everything else later.

  We back out of the driveway and with every few passing yards, my anxiety grows that Travis is going to pull up and see us getting away. As I’m about to suggest I get out of the car and go ahead to watch for him, Corrine breaks my train of thought.

  “He’ll find me when he realizes I’m gone.”

  “He won’t find you this time,” I say.

  “He will,” she says with absolute certainty. Or as absolute as one can sound while high on pills. Then she continues as if she needs to explain something important.

  “He always does. You know what? He forced me and my brother to move away with him. He said my mom died in the hospital after her gallbladder surgery. I didn’t want to believe it. I tried to run away and find out the truth, but he always found me. I don’t know how he does it. Then he called the succubus and after she was inside of me, I didn’t have control of my body. He’s coming. I know it.”

  My anxiety spikes as I listen to Corrine’s garbled, slow speech. She may have vomited some of the drugs but a lot has made it into her bloodstream.

  “I can watch the road ahead and then we’ll know if he’s getting close. I can move faster than any car. If I see him then I’ll come back. Corrine, you should slide down in your seat.”

  She’s so small that she doesn’t have to move down very far to be almost completely hidden from passing cars. She rests her head to one side and her eyelids droop all the way closed.

  “We’re going to the hospital, first. My mom’s a nurse there. She’ll help us.”

  We both look over at Corrine expecting a protest, but she doesn’t say anything. Juliana reaches a hand over to her shoulder and gives her a light shake.

  “Corrine,” Juliana says, jerking her with more force the second time, but she doesn’t respond.

  Then Juliana reaches over and slides her fingers under Corrine’s jaw.

  “How’s her pulse?” I ask even though I’m not sure I want to know the answer.

  “I think it’s not so great,” Juliana says. “Not strong enough.”

  “Corrine, wake up!” she tries again.

  “Hey, we’re about to see your mom, so wake up, sleepy head.” My words have absolutely no effect on her. “Come on, don’t do this.” She can’t die now. She’s about to see her mother again. This is the change she needs to get her will to live back.

  I take my eyes off Corrine for a second and notice Juliana is very pale and tight-lipped. Her hands grip the steering wheel as if she’s holding onto the thread of Corrine’s life.

  We’re on the highway and moving at the normally unacceptable speed of sound, but in this case, it seems reasonable.

  “How much farther?” I ask.

  “Two minutes,” she says.

  Juliana presses the gas pedal and the car speeds forward. Then she reaches over to feel under Corrine’s jaw again. I can see Corrine’s chest move with every breath, but the movement seems shallow. Juliana’s tension is also easy to see. I wish I could help
relieve some of her stress. If I was my old self I could use energy to calm her but I’m once again reminded how useless I have become. All of this is my fault.

  I see the sign for the emergency room and the parking lot comes into view. Medical help is only seconds away.

  Juliana breaks the sudden silence in the car. “Look behind us.”

  “F-ing crack head. How did he find us already?”

  “This is bad,” Juliana says, stating the obvious.

  She whips the car around a turn and into the parking lot, speeding toward the emergency room entrance.

  “I’ll try to stall him,” I say and then I’m instantly inside the BMW with Travis.

  “She needs a doctor, Dawson.”

  I catch the slightest shift of a dark eye in my direction and then nothing. He doesn’t say anything, or slow down his car. Instead he accelerates across the lot, taking the most direct path to Juliana’s car. He races toward her, the engine revving high, the tires squeal as he jerks the wheel to miss a parked SUV.

  “You insane bastard. Stop this. Corrine’s sick.” I grab for his hands, willing with all of my soul that I can actually get a hold on him. Of course I can’t.

  “I decide what happens to her,” Travis snarls.

  He narrows his eyes and makes a beeline for Juliana and Corrine. I have the instant realization he’s going to ram Juliana’s car.

  “Stop!” I scream, as I appear back inside the car with Juliana and Corrine.

  She slams on the brake and Corrine slides to the floor in a crumpled heap.

  The black BMW skids to a stop in front of our car. Before Jules has a chance to unclench her hands from the wheel, Travis yanks the door open and lifts Corrine out. She whimpers in his arms and then I hear her speak.

  “I’m sorry, Travis. I won’t do it again. I’m really sorry.”

  “Get inside, Juliana,” I order as she watches Travis take Corrine. The mask of shock on her face is startling. I don’t think she even heard me. The entrance to the hospital is only yards away. She has to get to people, and she has to do it now while Travis is preoccupied.

  “Corrine,” Jules gasps.

  “Run, Juliana!”

  Her hands shake as she fumbles to open the door. It opens an inch then she slams it closed again.