Starting Over Trilogy Boxset

by Kennedy, Brenda

  M: She’s here with me. I can’t really talk, but what is it?

  D: Dude, it’s not good. She dated a detective from the L.A. Police Dept. and he used to beat the fuck out of her. The hospital records show she was beaten so bad that she was in a coma. He was never prosecuted and was recently fired from his job.

  M: Do you know where he is now?

  D: No, but my guy Frank Medley is checking it out.

  M: Thanks, man. I owe you one.

  D: I’ll be in touch.

  I run my fingers into my hair while sitting on the edge of the bed. She’s safe right now, and I’ll figure the rest out when I hear more. I have an early morning shift tomorrow, then I’m off for a few days. My last day at the hospital is Friday. I needed a few weeks off between jobs to set up my new office.

  Angel is already on the couch when I walk into the living room. She is wearing a pink tank top and a pair of black yoga pants.

  She wants to watch The Notebook and I want to watch Saw IV. We decide on a happy medium and watch The Hangover. We sit side by side on the couch. Sharing popcorn and a blanket and watching a movie, she seems relaxed and at ease. She laughs easily while watching the movie, and the sparkle is back in her eyes.

  I’m not really watching the movie as much as I am watching her. I am thankful I was able to get her out of her house today and take her mind off of that spineless coward. When I went to her house earlier, I could see right away something was wrong. She was acting like she was sick, but her eyes revealed the truths that her words didn’t. My girl was broken. She was still wearing her work clothes from the day before. I knew I couldn’t walk away and leave her there alone. I damn near forced myself into her house. Thank God, she let me in. I have no idea what I was going to do if she didn’t. It was kind of a dickhead move to stop the door from closing with my foot. But I had no other choice.

  I sat there as calmly as I could while she talked about her shattered and broken life. My fist clenched at the anger I was feeling. I am thankful she opened up to me, but that was the hardest shit to have to hear. All I wanted to do was leave, find the spineless fuck, and beat him to a fucking pulp. I hate nothing more than a fucking coward. I can’t figure out why anyone would ever want to hurt her or any other woman for that matter.

  “Mason?”

  “I’m sorry, what is it?”

  I try to smile at her and act like I was paying attention.

  “Are you all right?”

  I hold her hand and place the empty popcorn bowl on the table.

  “I’m fine, Beauty. Come here,” I say, pulling her into me so she can rest her head on my chest.

  I wrap my arms around her and breathe in her relaxing scent. Cinnamon and peaches. My new favorite scent.

  I wake up to the credits rolling at the end of the movie. Angel is snuggled into my chest, arms wrapped tightly around me. For my own selfish reasons, I don’t wake her. I like the way she feels in my arms. I move as little as possible to reach the remote so I can turn the TV off. Without loosening my hold on her, I slouch back into the couch, bury my nose into her hair, and drift off to sleep.

  I wake up to the sound of my alarm. Angel stirs and is still wrapped in my arms. I kiss the top of her head and take a deep breath. The aroma of coffee filters through from the kitchen. God, how I love the automatic timer on the coffee pot. Angel raises her head and looks up at me.

  “Good morning, Beauty,” I say, smiling and excited that she is here with me.

  “Good morning, Handsome,” she says, pulling herself away from me and stretching.

  “Sleep well?” I ask, trying to get the kinks out of my stiff neck.

  “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you last night.”

  “Are you kidding me? I loved every minute of it,” I say honestly.

  She laughs.

  “Even with a stiff neck?”

  “Even with a stiff neck. There’s coffee ready or you can go back to bed. I have to shower for work, but it will take me only a few minutes to get ready.”

  “I’ll have coffee, thank you.”

  She leans over and kisses me quickly on my lips before standing up.

  I stand and head into the kitchen to pull two mugs from the cabinet and place the cream and sugar on the counter. I fill the mugs with coffee and take mine into the bedroom with me. Angel is taking her coffee out to the lanai. That is exactly where I would have my coffee, time permitting.

  I shower and dress quickly. I walk into the kitchen and set out the toaster with some bagels and English muffins. I refill my mug of coffee and head out to the balcony where Angel is sitting and appears to be in deep thought. I move a chair and startle her. She is always so easy to startle.

  “I’m sorry. I thought I would have my coffee out here with you before heading to work.”

  “Well, don’t you look handsome in dark blue scrubs,” she says, eyeing me up and down.

  “Thank you, but I didn’t think anybody looked good in scrubs.”

  “Normally I would agree; however, you are the exception.”

  Laughing, I ask her what her plans are for today. I tell her I think it’s a good idea she hangs out here until she hears from her uncle. I can’t tell her what to do, but I damn sure want to. I suggest she stay in and cook me something delicious.

  She says she needs to run home and grab her laptop and if she cooks she needs to go to the grocery store for some ingredients. She says she plans on calling her uncle later to see if he has heard anything.

  Trying to keep her from leaving the house, I tell her she can use my laptop and we can skip the home-cooked meal and order out when I get home from work. I would really feel safer with her here until we hear something, but I can’t tell her that.

  “I have to get going if I want to make it to work on time,” I say.

  She stands with me and walks into the kitchen with me. I rinse out my coffee mug, grab my workbag, and head to the front door. I wrap my arms around her and lean down to kiss her. She stands on her tiptoes to reach me, and I lift her up until our lips touch. She giggles, and it’s the sweetest sound I have ever heard.

  After our kiss, I lower her to the floor gently. I look her into her eyes.

  “Angel, please make yourself at home. If you need to leave for anything, wait until I get back and we can go together.”

  I search her eyes, and I already know she isn’t going to listen.

  “Thank you. I’ll be fine. I was just overreacting; it’s probably my period or something.”

  “Really? I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Will you let me go home now and stop worrying about me?”

  “I have a sister. You’re going to have to do better than that, if you’re trying to scare me off.”

  She leans up and kisses me again before opening the foyer door.

  “Fine, I’ll work on something else. Have a good day at work, dear.”

  She waves me off and closes the door behind me.

  “Lock up.”

  These are the only words I have time to say before the door closes behind me. I know why she did that; she knew I would argue with her about leaving today. I can’t help but laugh at her playfulness in calling me “dear.”

  I left her my spare key, my passcode, and a note on the table before leaving. If she should decide to leave, I want her to be able to return without difficulty.

  I walk into work, and I am automatically greeted by charge nurse Carla with a hot cup of black coffee. She smiles, hands it to me, and asks, “Are you ready to get the day over with?”

  I smile back at her while taking the coffee from her.

  “Thank you, but don’t you mean get this day started with?”

  “No, I have plans today. I want to get it over with as quickly as possible.”

  “Now that’s my kind of thinking. Oh, and Carla?”

  She stops and looks back at me. “Yes?”

  Holding the coffee up in front of me, I say, “You know I am taking you
with me to run my private practice.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  She winks at me.

  We listen intently to report from the previous shift. We take notes on certain patients. Some are waiting for rooms to be admitted, some are waiting for labs to be drawn, and a few are waiting for discharge paperwork.

  We say our goodbyes to our coworkers and immediately start on our shift. Carla and I walk through the patients’ rooms, introducing ourselves and checking their charts. We work into a comfortable routine, and it is lunch before I know it.

  I call Angel and it goes right to voicemail. I leave a very flirty message about us being roommates. I tell her to text me if she wants me to bring dinner home. Carla and I finish lunch and get a page from the E.R. that they are bringing in a trauma patient from a hit-and-run accident on Midnight Pass Road.

  We get the trauma room ready with the crash cart on hand and the trauma team is on standby. We have a neurologist and a surgeon on standby as well. We get a report that the victim is unconscious, in serious condition with life-threatening injuries. She has coded once during transport and her blood pressure is dangerously low. She has sustained a serious head injury with possible internal bleeding and multiple fractures.

  The ambulance pulls up with a police car behind them. We run out to help transport the victim into the E.R. An IV is placed in her left hand administering fluids. A paramedic is applying pressure to her right leg with a blood-soaked towel. Bloodied gauze is wrapped around the victim’s head. Carla and the other trauma team take over, and I get report from the paramedics.

  I run behind the gurney into the trauma room. We transport the victim from the gurney to the E.R. bed. She has a cervical collar in place on her neck in case of neck or back fractures. Her head is severely bleeding, and her right arm is lying in an unnatural position. She has a compound fracture to her right leg; bone is protruding through the skin. Blood is everywhere and her pulse is faint. We hook her up to a sphygmomanometer that is attached to a wall monitor so we can keep a close eye on her vitals. I call in a surgeon and a neurologist to assess her head injuries and fractures. We get a full-body-imaging scan and a C.T. scan. We maintain her blood pressure, minimize her bleeding, and get her ready to be transported to surgery. We administer fluids and give an IV bolus of Phenytoin prophylactically in case of seizures from the head trauma.

  We determine she has internal bleeding, a fractured humerus, and a compound fracture to her femur, along with a severe head injury. We stabilize her, and they take her to the operating room. I turn around sighing a deep cleansing breath when I see a police officer standing at the trauma room door holding Angel’s purse.

  The blood drains from my face, and I can’t fucking move.

  “Angel?”

  I hold onto the wall for support. I can’t stand. I slide down the wall that was holding me up. I fist my hands into my hair. Carla is in the room with me; she walks over to the officer. I can’t hear the words coming from their mouths. I feel bile rise to my throat. Carla takes Angel’s purse and walks over to me. Tears fill my eyes, and I can’t fucking see. She kneels down in front of me.

  “Do you know her, Mason?”

  I nod.

  “You didn’t recognize her.”

  I shake my head. I grab the trashcan beside me and lose the contents of my stomach into it.

  I have no idea how much time has passed. I am sitting in the surgery waiting room. I sit there in a daze, a fog. I look down to my lap and I am holding Angel’s purse. Her white purse is now splattered with dried blood. I look around. The same walls I used to find comfort in are now stark white, cold and sterile. The clock on the wall makes the only sound in the entire room. My vision is blurred and my mind foggy.

  Someone touches my arm and I have no idea why or who it is. I didn’t even know someone was there with me. I didn’t hear anyone come in. I look over, blink away the tears that threatened to fall, and see Carla sitting next to me. She has a sad smile on her face.

  She hands me my phone. I take it.

  “Your phone was lying on the floor after they brought you up here. Do you need something, some water?”

  I shake my head, unable to form words. They? They — who brought me up here? I think to myself, but don’t ask.

  I sit there lost in my own personal hell. How could I not have recognized her? I try to remember before they brought her in. The call was a hit-and-run. Is that right? Critical? Unstable? Brain trauma? How could I not have known who she was? I guess with all the blood on her face and the oxygen mask, it was almost impossible. I feel the bile starting to rise again. I try to swallow the lump in my throat but am unsuccessful. Do I normally treat patients without looking at them? Do I focus solely on their injuries and don’t put a face to their injuries or illness? Do I treat everyone as a medical case and not a real live person? I guess that’s how I separate myself from them so that I am able to provide the best possible care I can. If I had known it was Angel, would I have frozen, not been able to move, not been able to save her? I know I see their faces when they are released or no longer in serious or critical condition.

  I look back to Carla, and she just sits there. Not saying anything, just sitting there with me. I see her holding my hand, but I am numb. The elevator dings and I look up slowly, expressionless and emotionless. I can’t feel my arms or legs. Deep sorrow consumes my entire body. I have no idea how long it has been. Vincent walks over to me. I look at the clock, and it is 5:38. I look back to Vincent. I can’t speak. 5:38 a.m.? p.m.? I have no idea. Why do I care what time it is? How long has it been? Hours? Days? It feels like fucking years. I look back to the clock like it is my only friend. Why am I so fixated on the fucking time? I am holding onto Angel’s purse like a lifeline.

  Vincent is talking, but I have no idea to whom. I look at the fucking clock again. Someone touches my arm, and I look over. Carla is holding a small cone cup out for me. I take it and hold it. What am I supposed to do with it? I feel like I’m moving in slow motion.

  “Drink it,” Carla says lifting my hand with the cup to my mouth. I do. I hear other people come into the room. I don’t look, I don’t care.

  My mother sits beside me and lays my head on her shoulder. I let her. It feels comforting. She sits there and says nothing. She plays with my curly hair. My father kneels in front of me and hugs me like he does every time he sees me. He looks me in the eyes, pats my cheek with his hand, and then stands. I can hear other voices in the room. Madison is standing near the coffee maker.

  I hand Carla the empty cup, and she takes it. I start to recognize faces and can hear their voices. I look around the room. Sara and Brea are here. Mom, Dad, Madison, Vincent, and Donovan are also here. I lift my head trying to compose myself. I sit up straight and try to clear my head.

  Carla touches my arm and says, “Mason, I’m heading home. Please call me if you need me.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Call me anytime.”

  And she leaves.

  I look at the clock again, like it holds some secret message. 6:20, what does that mean? Day time or night time? I look outside. It’s light out. It is 6:20 p.m. The fucking mystery is solved. Get your shit together, Mason, you’re fucking losing it.

  I stand, and on shaky legs I walk to the water cooler. My mouth is bone dry. I down several cups of cold water. I look around the room and my eyes lock on every single person there. My friends. Angel’s friends. They are here for her. The seriousness of all this hits me.

  I walk back over to where I was sitting. Madison, Brea, Vincent, Sara, and Donovan come over and gather around us.

  “I need to call Angel’s family. They need to know,” I say, looking around.

  I grab Angel’s purse and start to look for her cell phone to get the phone number.

  Sara walks towards me and kneels down in front of me. She places her small hand on my knee.

  “Brea and I already called them. They are flying out on the first available flight. We gave them your
cell number to text when they get here, so you’ll know to look for them.”

  “Thank you.”

  She nods and gently pats my knee.

  I look around at all the somber faces.

  “Is there any news?”

  Vincent says, “The police were here; they want you to call them about her condition.”

  I nod. That’s formality.

  “Any news from her doctors or the surgeons?”

  Donovan says, “We have been here for a couple hours, and we haven’t seen or heard anything from anyone.”

  I stand and my father stands with me. I walk to the coffee pot and pour myself a cup. I take a deep breath and run my hands through my hair. Vincent and Donovan walk over to me. Sara and Brea take a seat next to my mother.

  “Son, what all do we know has happened?”

  I look at him.

  My father asks, “Do we know whether was this was an accident or intentional?”

  I clear my throat and lower my voice, not wanting to alarm the girls.

  “I don’t know. She left an abusive relationship a few months ago and was afraid he was going to find her.”

  I try to clear the knot in my throat again.

  “She stayed at my house last night. Her uncle and aunt were coming down on Tuesday to stay with her for a while. I didn’t know about any of this until yesterday. She literally just started opening up to me about any of this. I know the last few days she has been terrified.”

  Donovan adds, “He was a detective at the L.A. Police Department where her uncle worked. He was transferred six months ago to another precinct but has recently been fired. I had our private investigator at the law firm check him out. The P.I. is still trying to locate him.”

  The surgeon comes through the door asking for the family of Angel Perez.

  I look at him and then say to my Dad, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Son, are you sure you don’t want us to go with you?” he asks.

  “Yes, Dad, we aren’t her family. I have a better chance at finding something out if I’m alone. Colleague to colleague.”

  “I understand.”

  I walk over to the surgeon, thankful that I know him. His name is Alec Collins. He looks exhausted.