Sacrifice

by Adriana Locke

  “Take your shirt off,” I order.

  She grabs the hemline and wastes little time removing the fabric, leaving her full breasts on display in a black lacy bra. The round tops of her tits makes my dick rock fucking solid.

  I slip a condom out of my wallet and unbutton my pants. She lays back, her eyes wild, the scent of her vanilla perfume everywhere. I roll the condom over myself and then grab the waistband of her pants and yank them off her body, her shoes hitting the floor first.

  My fingertips dig into her hips as I scoot her to the end of the table, guiding myself towards her opening. The initial contact has her panting, her back arched, waiting for the next move.

  I slide into her with one thrust, her pussy so wet for me that it makes my cock throb. I groan as she constricts around my length. I pause when I hit the back, slide out, and then push inside her as far as it’ll go.

  She moans again, her voice filling the room as I fill her. I slide in and out, driving into her harder with each push. I take one hand and pull down the lace covering her tits and watch them spring free. I palm one, squeezing it as I continue to bounce in and out of her sweet little pussy.

  She yells my name, arching her back, tossing her head back and forth.

  The table is rocking, the dishes clamoring on the other side. One plate slips off the end and smashes onto the floor. The destruction just amplifies the animalistic feeling in the room.

  I press down on her stomach, preventing her from lifting off the table. I slam into her, the angle allowing me to get even deeper inside.

  She begins to moan and I know that means she’s getting close. I rub her nipple a few times before returning my hand to her hip. I drive into her over and over, watching her tits rock on top of her creamy white skin.

  Her phone begins to ring from her purse in the hallway. Knowing it’s probably Elijah or some other fucker from the bar, I decide to tattoo my fucking name in the back of her pussy.

  “Crew!” she yells as I slam into her, holding her down. “Fuck!”

  Her muscles tighten and pulse around me as she shouts nonsense. I find my release at the same time, holding her still, my hands holding her down.

  She lies back lifelessly onto the table. Our jagged breaths fill the air, the smell of sex overpowering her perfume.

  I scoop her back up with one arm and kiss her mouth hard. She moans against my lips and I know she can barely move.

  I love it.

  I pull out and head to the bathroom, removing the condom and tossing it in the trash. She comes in behind me with her clothes in her hand. She puts them back on and runs her fingers through her hair.

  “How’d that feel?” I ask.

  “Like I got fucked.” She smiles before leaving me standing in the bathroom alone. I hear her rummaging around in the hallway. “See ya, Crew,” she calls out before the door opens and shuts.

  And that’s why I like her.

  I jump in the shower, letting the hot water do its thing. I soap up and just finish rinsing when I hear the phone ring. I slide the curtain open and see Julia’s name on the screen.

  My gut twists. There’s something about her calling that makes me uneasy, because she never calls me. Never. I flip the water off and wrap a towel around me quickly.

  “Hello?” I ask, wiping the fog off the mirror.

  The line is silent.

  “Jules? You there?”

  I think I hear her crying, but I can’t be sure.

  “Julia? What’s going on?”

  “Crew . . .” Her voice, barely above a whisper, drifts quietly through the phone.

  I can hear it in her voice. Something is very fucking wrong.

  JULIA

  I click the phone off and literally drop it onto the coffee table. It lands with a thud that sounds like it’s in another world. I sit with my arms on my knees and try to remember what the doctors said. I struggle to remember his words.

  I feel like I should be reacting to this, but I can’t. I feel like the tears are there but they won’t come.

  My breath comes out staggered. I hear the air going in and out of my mouth, the only noise in the room, and it sounds like I’m shivering. I look to my hands and see them shaking.

  “Mrs. Gentry, your daughter has cancer.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut as the room begins to spin. Round and round and round. I raise a hand and touch the top of my head. It feels light, like I’ve been hit over the head with a board.

  I think I’m going to be sick.

  There’s a knock at the door, but it sounds so far away. I’m not even sure, really, if it’s my door. I hear it louder and I know I need to answer it, but I don’t. I just sit with my eyes shut and rock back and forth.

  I hear Crew calling my name. I vaguely remember calling him.

  How long ago was that?

  The door bursts open so loudly that it breaks through the haze. I open my eyes and see Crew storm into the room. His eyes are wild, his forehead marred with frustration. He spots me and then scans the room. “Where’s Ever?”

  My throat feels lined with gauze, thick, and I make myself swallow just so I can speak. But I still can’t. Words are impossible now; nothing that I would have to say is anything I want to ever mutter.

  Crew takes off through the house, calling Ever’s name. I squeeze my eyes shut again, listening to him say it.

  What if a time comes when he doesn’t have to say it anymore?

  I feel my stomach roll, twisting and knotting, churning with bile at the thought.

  No! I won’t think that way! This is a mistake!

  I take a deep breath like I was taught to do when I was pregnant. I fill my lungs with air and blow it out, the air coming out in rickety spurts. The breathing is supposed to calm you, keep you from panicking.

  It doesn’t work.

  “What the fuck, Jules? What’s going on?”

  He stands next to the sofa, the vein in his temple pulsing. He’s looking at me like I’m ready to jump off a cliff.

  Maybe I am.

  I can’t answer his question because I don’t know. I don’t know what the last couple of days have been about. I know my little girl had a fever and an upset stomach and I took her to the doctor. I know they told me not to worry. I know the bomb that was dropped on my lap today was more than I ever imagined.

  It’s more than I can take.

  I can’t comprehend it. I can’t believe it. They have to be wrong. They are wrong. My beautiful baby girl isn’t sick.

  She isn’t. She can’t be.

  He moves quickly around the furniture and is in front of me before I can process it. “Jules? Where’s Ever?”

  “She’s . . .” I start, but I can’t finish it. As soon as I say something, the dialogue is open and I’ll have to tell him all of it. If I can just keep quiet, maybe it won’t be real.

  “Damn it, Julia.” He grabs me, his large hands covering my shoulders completely, and shakes me. “Fucking talk to me!”

  I hear the panic start to take over his voice. I want to save him from the panic he’s going to feel when I speak. But I can’t save anyone right now.

  I’ve never been able to save anyone . . .

  “She’s with Olivia.” I feel my bottom lip quiver but I can’t stop it as much as I try. My teeth begin to chatter as Crew’s hands leave my shoulders.

  A shiver tears through me and, for the first time, I feel like I can cry. But the tears still don’t come. I will them to, try to blink my eyes and force them over my lids. If I could just cry, I could feel something. I just feel so . . . numb. And with the numbness comes a sense of not being able to process what’s going on, not being alert enough to make the quick decisions that need to be made.

  That have to be made.

  Life or death decisions.

  I know I need to wake up and get out of this fog. I also know that when I do, I can never come back here. To this place where I feel a bit protected, a bit cushioned by the haze around me. It’s like I’m sitting in a c
age of lions and have this bubble around me that has to be popped. As soon as it does, I’m going to be eaten alive.

  “She’s all right, right?” He kneels in front of me, his hands now on my knees. “Jules? I need you to say something. You’re freaking me out here. What in the hell is going on?”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You better find the words pretty fucking quick. You never call me and now I’m here and I can’t find Ever and you won’t talk.” He narrows his eyes and I know he’s about at his wits end. “Fucking now, Jules.” His tone is soft, but there’s no denying the command.

  “We went to the doctor today. She . . .”

  And I can’t say it. I can’t say the words.

  I watch his face fall, every muscle dropping in slow motion.

  Everything feels like I’m watching it from another vantage point, an out-of-body experience. I see his pupils dilate. I can see the fabric of his shirt bounce with his increased heartbeat. I see the stubble dotting his face move as he clenches his jaw.

  He’s trying to stay calm. His hands are squeezing my knees and I think it’s starting to hurt, but I’m not sure.

  “Julia, you’re gonna have to tell me what’s going on.”

  The sob that I’ve needed to release, but now needs to stay away so I can speak, creeps up my throat like a thief. I open my mouth and it robs me of words. I take in a shaky breath and feel the tears start to trickle down my cheeks. They scald my skin, leaving trails of hot liquid down my face.

  “She . . .” I look from his hands on my legs to his face. “She has cancer.”

  Crew shudders. His jaw drops, his skin pales. His eyes go wide and he shakes his head. The look on his face is pure disbelief. “She what?”

  I only nod, unable to say the words again. I won’t. I watch him absorb them, wrestle with the idea I’ve just tossed onto him in much the same way it was forced onto me earlier. Like a serpent tossed into a room with you. ‘Here you go. Deal with this. Good luck. We’ll be right outside if you need us.’

  “My God, Jules.” He rocks back on his heels and takes off his hat. He smoothes his hands down his face, his mouth falling open as his fingers drag across it. “I . . .”

  “We just got home from the hospital a little while ago.”

  “Is she going to be all right?”

  “She has to be,” I say, my voice shaking.

  “My God.” He bows his head before standing. “What do we do now?”

  “I don’t know. The final lab results aren’t in yet, so they haven’t put together a treatment plan. They won’t do that until they know exactly what they’re working with.”

  “What will they do? Chemo? Fuck, Jules. Can they do that on a little kid? She’s a baby.”

  I choke back a sob. He’s right. She is a baby. She’s just a little baby girl that doesn’t deserve this. I want to scream, to tell the universe to mess with someone else for once. I want to wrap my daughter in my arms and run away from this mess. I want to hide her from the ugliness touching her. I want to protect her like a mother should.

  “They mentioned that,” I say quietly. “They said if it hasn’t spread, they might just try to remove it in one piece. We have to wait and see.”

  “When will they know?”

  “On Monday.”

  His eyes go wide. “We have to wait all weekend? Shouldn’t they be doing something now?”

  My phone rings and we both jump. He grabs it off the table where I dropped it earlier and hands it to me. I answer without even looking at the screen. “Hello?”

  “Everleigh woke up and wants to come home. I told her I’d call—”

  “I’ll come and get her.”

  “No, sweetheart. I’ll bring her over. You’ve had a mess of a day.”

  A lump forms in my throat as I hear her disconnect the call. “That was Olivia,” I say to Crew, who’s watching me like a hawk. “She’s bringing Ever home.”

  He stands and paces a circle. He pulls his hat over his head and then removes it again. I stand, too, and watch him, feeling completely defeated.

  Crew is to the door before I can register the sound of someone knocking. I hear his voice and Olivia’s, then the sound of the door closing again. He walks through the room, my daughter lying in his arms. He has her pulled to his chest, her black hair sprawled across his left shoulder.

  He presses his lips together and looks at me. I walk to them and touch Ever’s cheek. Her eyes are closed but she smiles.

  “I’m so sleepy, Mommy.”

  “Come here and I’ll put you to bed.” I start to take her out of Crew’s arms, but he doesn’t relent.

  He gives me a sad smile. He squeezes the blanket wrapped around Everleigh.

  He clears his throat and says gently, “I’ll lay her down. Wash your face and get something to eat.”

  He takes Ever to her room and I let myself cry again. I want to chase them in there and squeeze my daughter; every minute seems so precious right now. I know as much as I want to, I can’t go in there bawling. She’s finally resting and needs her strength.

  I take a deep breath and remind myself that I don’t know anything for sure. The doctor’s could be wrong, just like Crew says they were wrong about his injury. And I can’t let Everleigh see me like this. It’ll scare her and I’m scared enough for both of us. I am her mother, her safe place. I have to be strong for her, carry us both through this.

  Somehow.

  The bathroom is bright when I flip the light on. I look in the mirror. My eyes are puffy, the whites now a pinkish red. There are bags beneath them and I know they’ll only get worse. There’s no way I’ll be resting anytime soon.

  I splash some cool water on my skin and pat it dry with a towel.

  “Mrs. Gentry, your daughter’s urine tests show very high levels of chemicals called HVA and VMA. The early MRI results also showed a tumor in her abdominal region.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means when we take that, coupled with the biopsy results, I’m sorry to tell you that things don’t look good. Mrs. Gentry, your daughter has cancer.”

  My legs go weak, my knees buckling beneath me. I grab the counter and force air into my lungs. I can hear the air wheeze and tremble as it enters and leaves my chest. I scoot back until my legs touch the stool and I collapse onto it, letting it hold me up.

  I can’t do this. I can’t break down.

  I hold a breath and blow it slowly.

  Panicking won’t get us anywhere. I have to get my head on straight. I have to think.

  I take a deep breath and rise. I grab an elastic hair tie.

  Get yourself together. Keep moving. Sitting is only going to give you time to overthink. You know nothing for sure at this point.

  I pile my hair on top of my head and secure it. I rinse my face again, the cool water calming my startled skin. I just need to figure out how to deal with this.

  Please, Gage. Help me. You’d know what to do. Tell me. What do I do?

  A few minutes later, I pad down the hall to Ever’s room. I’m sure Crew’s ready to go. I wonder if it was the right thing to do to call him and just heave this onto him. I know he’d want to know, but my reasoning for calling him was more about me than about him. I needed him and that makes me feel guilty.

  I peek my head around the corner and stifle a gasp.

  Crew is stretched out on Ever’s little bed. His feet are hanging off the end, his neck crammed in an awkward angle against the headboard. Ever and her monkey are tucked against his side, her head nestled in the crook of his arm, his cheek is pressed against the top of her head. She has her hand clutched around something yellow.

  I cover my mouth with my hand and shut the door softly behind me. I shuffle across the hall to my room and close the door.

  I throw myself on my bed and cry myself to sleep.

  CREW

  The engine of my truck roars as I gun it through traffic and pull into a spot in the back of the parking lot. It is
dark, the sky blacker than normal. Shenanigan’s sign is only half-lit and I feel its pain; I feel like I’m only half-conscious right now.

  The shock is just starting to wear off.

  I woke up around two a.m. in Everleigh’s bed. My back was hurting so damn bad but I almost didn’t want to get up. I lay there a long time, watching her little chest rise and fall, wondering where in that beautiful little girl the sickness was. She looked so perfect, so beautiful, so not sick. It was so hard to believe.

  Maybe she’s not . . .

  I spent the day trying to wrap my brain around what Jules said. My entire body aches, feels like it’s been through a war. It has, I guess. A war of emotions. Disbelief, sadness, numbness, and now a blip of anger are beginning to form in the pit of my stomach. It’s raw, my spirit bruised, and that only adds to the rage simmering right beneath the surface.

  I get out and slam the door behind me, hearing the hinges creak as the door whips closed. There’s a couple of guys milling around near the side door to the kitchen, the one I usually come out of when I stay late with Jordyn when she closes. They’re dressed all gangster with their baggy jeans and long shirts. They look at me out of the corner of their eyes and I know I haven’t seen them around before.

  I walk in the bar and Jordyn gives me a smile. I don’t return it. I don’t have it in me.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she calls from behind the bar.

  “Bring me a beer.”

  I don’t look her way as I head to the corner table. The place isn’t very busy and I’m kind of disappointed. I wanted to blend into the scenery, not have to talk to anyone.

  Will is sitting at the table alone, his arms stretched across the neighboring chair, watching television. He looks up and sees me and starts to speak, but stops.

  I pull back a chair and sit down.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asks, sitting up. He wraps his hands around the bottle in front of him.

  I laugh angrily. Before I can respond, a bottle is plopped in front of me.

  “You all right?” Jordyn asks.

  “I just asked him that.” Will takes a sip, eyeing me carefully.

  “I’m fine.”