Fighting the Odds

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Fighting the Odds Page 2

by Hilary Storm


  "I did this. I killed my baby." I pull away from her and guide her face to mine. She won’t look at me.

  "Listen to me. This is not your fault. That asshole did this."

  "I was supposed to leave yesterday." Her voice sounds choked and I can see she's completely blaming herself for this. Guilt is something that takes time to deal with. I should know, I'm still trying to figure out how to live with myself.

  "Where were you going?"

  "As far away as I could possibly get. I didn't want him to know about the baby."

  "I'm guessing the asshole in the alley was the father." Her nod confirms my suspicion and her life begins to make sense to me. She's just as lost as I am right now. Someone who is willing to leave everything behind like she's talking about doing is going through some shit that can't be easily dealt with.

  The doctor comes in and confirms the fate of the baby. "Mrs. Reynolds, it looks like you were only a few weeks pregnant. You'll need to check back with a doctor if you have any complications, but I believe you're early enough that you won't require a DNC." She gives Kimber instructions and handles the conversation much better than I could have. I guess that comes with the experience of giving bad news to families every day.

  Kimber's tears never stop running down her face. She's devastated and I wish so badly that I could do something to change the outcome of this night. I reach to wipe the remaining tears after the doctor leaves the room.

  "Let me take you home."

  "I'm not going back there."

  "Do you have someone that I should call or take you to?"

  "Just take me to a hotel and I'll be fine." She says this right as she begins to cramp again. I have no intentions of dropping a woman who is in the middle of miscarrying off at a hotel. It's apparent that I'm coming off as a real douche bag if she thinks that I'd even consider that. The nurse comes in with her paperwork and some medicine to help with the pain.

  "You need to rest and take it easy for the next few days. Please call us if the pain gets any worse."

  "Can you go to the Jeep and get the small blue bag behind the driver's seat?"

  "Sure. I'll be right back." I take my time getting her bag because I can tell she wants some privacy.

  The nurse asks for the bag and I wait outside the room until I get some sign that she's ready for company again. The nurse opens the door and backs out with Kimber in a wheelchair. At this point she looks numb again. She's here, but her mind is a million miles away. The nurse pushes her through the exit doors and I rush to get the Jeep. We help her in and I know I have only one place to take her. My one room apartment is getting ready to be invaded.

  Kimber

  I've done this. What kind of mother puts her baby in danger before it ever has the chance to take its first breath? The whole reason for staying an extra day fell through when Greg caught me with the money before the fight. He of course assumed even worse than he should have when he saw it. I knew he would win that fight. It was an easy way to double my money and have a better chance at starting a new life with my baby. It seemed like a chance worth taking at the time.

  All of that doesn't matter now. I'm back to square one and depending on my father. At this point, anything is better than crawling back to Greg.

  "Where are you taking me?"

  "To my apartment."

  "I told you to take me to a hotel."

  "Someone needs to stay with you."

  "I'll be fine."

  "Look. I'm not sure what to say here. You need someone and I have nothing better to do, so just let me do this." I don't quite know how to take that. It's a good thing he's bored tonight.

  Greg will be furious once he realizes most of my things are packed. He has a key to my house and I'm sure he went there once he left the fight. He'll be out for the kill the first time he sees me.

  "I appreciate you trying to help, but I don't want to put you out any more than I already have."

  "It's really the only option I'll consider at this point. You need to rest and I have a place for you to crash." It doesn't take him long to park in front of an apartment building. I step out of my Jeep and look up at the building, trying to recognize where we're at. I should've paid closer attention on the drive over because nothing looks familiar. Trying to pull my bag from the back seat, I begin to feel very awkward about all of this.

  "Where are we?"

  "My apartment building. Come on, I'll take you up." He pulls the bag out and holds out his arm to guide me. It takes me a few seconds to give in, but I eventually do. What if he's a serial killer out to find his next victim? It's a fine time for me to finally think about something like this, but this night has been out of control.

  "What if you're a murderer?" He stops mid-step and turns his head to stare at me. His face is saying everything that I can tell he's biting his tongue over. Like, 'Are you fucking kidding me right now?' and 'that's the stupidest bullshit I've ever heard.' He takes a deep breath and begins to slowly move forward again.

  "If I was going to kill you, you'd already be dead. Now let's get you upstairs and rest like the doctor told you to." I know he's right and besides, it's not like I have a choice at this point. It's sad that I'm taking my chances with a complete stranger versus the man that I've been with for years, or even my father.

  I'll stay the night on this guy's couch and then I'll go to see my father in the morning to get my winnings. After that, I'm out of here. There is absolutely nothing holding me here. I'm going to have to figure out how to live with myself after this.

  "Can I at least get your name first?"

  "Luke." He continues to guide me once we're inside the apartment building until we're in the elevator. The building is old, and this elevator feels unsafe and ancient. The way this night is going, it'll probably stall out on us between levels.

  "Kimber." He hasn't asked for my name, but under the circumstances, I feel the need to tell him.

  "Nice to meet you, Kimber." The clanking and creaking of the elevator pulls my attention away from the conversation, but we make it to the eighth floor without it breaking.

  "This elevator sounds terrible."

  "Yeah. I usually take the stairs. This piece of shit is on its last leg." He steps out of the cage and stops at the first door on the right. He opens the door to the smallest apartment in the world. It's a one room apartment with a small bed and a metal chair as furniture. One wall makes up the kitchen and there's a small dorm sized fridge. I don't even know what to say as I look around. 'Nice apartment' isn't an option.

  He moves to clear a folded pile of laundry from his bed in an attempt to tidy up the place. There's nothing to tidy. Talk about simplicity. This man has nothing that isn't considered a necessity in his apartment. My eyes stop at the two guitars in the corner. They seem odd and out of place in this space.

  I notice a small door to my left and pray that there's at least a toilet behind that door.

  "Is this your restroom?"

  "Yeah. It isn't much, but it serves the purpose."

  "It'll be fine. Thanks." I pull the door closed and take a minute to look at myself in the small mirror. What am I doing? What's happened to me? It's like life is fighting me and my efforts to become the person I want to be. My swollen face and tear drunk eyes are all I see in the reflection.

  How did I become this disgusting woman who can't stand up for herself and move on? Greg seems to always have a way to get me to stay and I knew the baby was the most important reason for me to leave. I'll never forgive myself for staying for the money. I should've left a few days ago when I found out I was pregnant.

  Money means nothing when you lose every reason to fight. I loved the idea of becoming a mother. I was even willing to do it all by myself to shelter the baby from the life I've always known.

  My heart is breaking and I can't stop the tears from falling anymore. I grip each side of the sink and begin to cry through the torture I've been holding in. How could I let this happen?

  Chapter Three
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br />   Luke

  The last thing I ever planned to do was bring someone back to this shithole apartment. Living in California is expensive and I've been doing it all without using any of my money from Rebel Walking. If I plan to stay under the radar, I need to keep it that way.

  I can hear her crying and I don't know how to handle it. She's lost a baby and that tears me up inside. I can't imagine the pain that would cause me if it were my own. That asshole will pay for what he's done to her if it's the last thing I do before I leave.

  I knock on the door and listen for her to say something. Her sobs are all I hear and they're only getting louder. Turning the knob slowly, I ease into the space behind her. Her grip on my sink is tight and I can tell she's seriously about to have a panic attack by the way her gasping breaths are echoing through the small room. She needs to be grounded and I'm hoping I can handle this.

  I wrap my arms around her and watch her through the mirror. I stand there until her sobbing becomes a cry and then hold her when she turns to bury her face into my chest. Minutes go by and we remain just like this until she pulls away from my hold.

  "I'm sorry. I just can't believe this happened. I wanted that baby more than anything I've wanted in my entire life." She turns around and begins to run water over her face.

  "I'm sorry. I wish I would've gotten there sooner." She looks into the mirror and looks straight into my eyes. Her expression of guilt screams through the mirror.

  "You didn't do this. He did this to you."

  "I'll forever blame myself for not acting fast enough. That's something I'll have to deal with." I know she's going to feel the weight of this for a very long time. I struggle with something to say to help, but nothing comes to mind. This seems to be an issue for me lately.

  "I'll give you the bed." She has no idea how her words hit home for me. I know how it is to feel the guilt from something you wish you could've changed. Guilt can ruin you, consume you, and impair you from moving forward in life. I should know.

  Sitting in the metal chair I watch her slowly edge into the sheets. She sits up against the pillows and watches me.

  "I won’t be able to sleep with you staring at me, besides that, I'm not tired right now. You should at least be comfortable too."

  "It's alright, I'll be fine."

  "No, I insist. Just sit with me and keep me company while I try to figure out a plan."

  "What kind of plan are you talking about?"

  "I need to go get my money tomorrow morning so I can leave just like I had planned. I can't stay here. Tonight proves that I need to get as far away from here as possible."

  "Where is your money?"

  "My father will have it." I wonder how clean this money is that she's referring to. After tonight, there's no way that I'm getting into bed with that asshole. He wants me to fight in this next match up, but after seeing her like this, there's no way. She doesn't even feel comfortable going home to her own father when a real tragedy happens. That's all the information I need to prove he's a shady fucker of some sort.

  "Greg's reaction is what I worry about. He must know that I'm packed by now. He won't like it and I'm scared to see how he'll react if he sees me."

  "I'll go with you. That fucker won't touch you while I'm with you."

  "I have to fight my own battles and I can't ask you to do more than you already have." As if stepping away from her before she reaches safety is an option. She has no idea who I am or how I roll. In my eyes, there's no lower scum than a man who would hit a woman or a child.

  "It's not really an option at this point. I've watched you fall apart tonight at the hands of a huge asshole. If I have a chance to help you prevent another scene like last night, I will. I'm pretty positive that me being there will keep him away from you all together, but if he decides to go for round two, then I'll be more than happy to beat his ass all over again." Her eyes fill with tears again and I watch her attempt to turn away before they fall. She rolls over to face the wall and it takes everything in me not to hold her like she needs to be held.

  I do slide onto the bed and put my arm around her hoping this is enough for her.

  "I'm sorry." Her words barely a whisper.

  "No need to be sorry."

  "Thank you, Luke." The sounds of her cries continue for a few minutes before she rolls over and tucks herself into my side. I lay back and she rests her head on my chest. My eyes shift to the ceiling and I focus on it for what feels like an hour.

  I don't move until I know she's asleep. The back and forth emotions that I'm feeling are fucking my life up and I'm not sure how to deal with all of this. I just met her and she's had the worst night of her life. Here I am in the bed next to her and actually feeling my heart beat for the first time in months. Knowing I'm keeping her safe as she sleeps makes me happy, but the guilt is getting to me as I hold her this closely.

  I miss Lilly. Memories of my last night with her begin to torture me, just like every other sleepless night since the accident. How many times can I wish to change just one thing from that night? If I could go back and just stop her in the parking lot, I'd tell her exactly how I feel and I'm sure it would have been no struggle to pass even more time up against that car. Unfortunately, our paths crossed with a drunk driver and nothing will ever be the same again.

  Time was all I needed. Time is what I no longer have. Along with the memories comes the pressure in my chest and I have no choice but to get up out of this bed. For the first time in months tears actually fall for her. I stand by Lilly's guitar and let my head fall back against the wall. The slide down the wall shifts my shirt up my back and I wish the scratch was deeper so my focus could shift, but my pain remains deep inside.

  I sit against the wall and lose it. All the numbness gone and the horrible pain taking over every feeling in my body.

  I feel her hand run through my hair just as I inhale a deep breath. Her touch sends tingles across my scalp and I pause to just feel. It's been so long since I've been touched.

  "Luke, who hurt you?" I refuse to answer her. There's only one answer. I did this to myself.

  She lowers until she's sitting with me along the wall. Her simple gesture of holding my hand goes so much further than anything else she could've done. What's wrong with me? This girl lost a baby tonight, and I'm falling the fuck apart.

  Neither of us say anything. We sit in the dark and I feel the swipe of her thumb across my fingers the entire time. It's oddly calming and that comforts me, but she doesn't need to be down here like this.

  "You need to get off the floor and back in bed."

  "I will when you do."

  I decide to make it easy on us both and rise from the floor, pulling her up by the hand once I do. There's not many hours left to get some sleep, but a few hours will be better than nothing at this point.

  We lie side by side; she pulls my hand into hers and begins to rub her thumb across mine.

  Kimber

  I wake to silence and an empty apartment. It doesn't surprise me, but knowing he feels comfortable leaving me in his apartment is strange. He's a little too trusting, not that I'd do anything, but many people would. This is California. If I ever see him again, I need to remind him of that.

  I need to get out of here and get to my father before Greg decides to come looking for me. The thought of what he'd do if he saw me in this apartment has me jumping up to get ready. Trying to appear somewhat decent, I try to clean up. After everything I've been through, this could be difficult. My cramps remain dull and not near as bad as they were in the hospital last night. I know I passed the baby last night at the hospital. I sent Luke to the car when I felt it happening. He didn't need to witness my complete breakdown.

  Looking in the mirror, you'd never know that my life was ruined last night. My cheek is slightly swollen, which doesn't reflect how sore it truly is. My eyes are a little puffy, but overall I look like I just had a rough night.

  I can't believe the baby is gone. I had just come to terms with raising it on
my own. Greg has been getting really territorial and over bearing the last few weeks. He has never hit me like this before, but he has pushed me a few times. Things have been progressing and I knew it was time to leave. I wanted to keep the baby safe and I wasn't sure how he'd react to me being pregnant in the first place.

  I slide the shower door open in hopes of finding soap of some sort. Talk about basics. I've never seen anything like Luke's apartment. I almost feel sorry for his lack of belongings. It's as if he's moved in here with a duffle bag and two guitars.

  I guess I should appreciate it, since this is exactly where I was headed with a baby in tow. To me, this meansl he's running from something. After his breakdown last night, I can only assume it's a girl that has him running. When a guy reacts like this, his heart is taken. There's no doubt in my mind there's a very lucky lady out there that has that man's heart, I just hope she knows how to handle it with the care he seems to need right now.

  The water pressure feels good and I take a longer shower than I should have. The scent of his soap opens up my senses and for the first time since last night I feel like I can breathe. It isn't long and the cold water begins to force me out of the shower and I grab the only towel from the cabinet.

  Getting dressed is challenging in this cramped space, but I manage. Once I'm fully covered, I open the door to let some of the steam escape and notice him in the metal chair.

  "Hey. I didn't hear you come in."

  "Yeah. You were in the shower."

  "You know you really shouldn't just leave a stranger in your apartment."

  "I didn't." His answer is matter of fact and quick.

  "We just met yesterday."

  "And we've been through more than some people go through in a lifetime." I can't even argue with that.

  "Yeah, I guess you're right."

  "I bought some eggs and a few things if you want something before you head out." I notice the 'you' in that sentence and begin to plan my path out of this place. I've inconvenienced him enough and it's time I let this guy have his space back.

 

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