by Tijan
Her eyes were roaming over me and paused on my throat.
It was coming.
I felt it in my gut—FIGHT, SHELDON!
I stopped thinking and my elbow rammed up, hitting underneath her chin. She was stunned from the hit, but she twisted to the side. Her hand started to swing around. I saw the knife poised, ready to slice into me, but I grabbed ahold and tried to kick at her arm. My foot hit the underside. It was a clumsy hit, I got lucky, then I heard her grunt right next to my ear, and I looked again.
BAM!
I was hit across the cheek. A blast of pain blinded me, and I couldn’t move for a second, then I felt her coming and she was on me. I was pushed down to the floor, and her knee hit me in the chest. Oomph.
I couldn’t lie there. I heard yelling, and I looked around, trying to see who it was coming from, but it was me. I was the one yelling, and she was dead silent. Her elbow rammed into my head again, and this time the pain more than blinded me. It knocked the breath of out me. I looked up—here it was—it was coming.
Maria was half sprawled over me, but she tightened her hold on the knife, and her arm started coming toward me. The edge of it was going to slice open my throat.
I closed my eyes.
I love you, Corrigan.
BANG!
Maria stopped. The knife dropped. Her arm dropped, and a gurgling sound came from her. She looked up to the doorway then her eyes widened, and she started to point. “She—”
BANG!
BANG!
She was shot two more times. This time I watched as the bullets tore into her. The first one got her in the throat. The second one hit her in the chest, and the third was right in her forehead. She dropped after that one.
Then I looked up—Mena stood in the doorway holding a handgun.
Then everything went dark.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I awoke in a hospital bed, and my hands were interlaced with Corrigan’s. He was sleeping in the chair beside mine with his head resting on my bed. I became aware of two things right away. One, my body felt like it was being burned alive and two, I was damn thirsty. I looked around, but the movement had me gritting my teeth. Pain sliced through me. I was afraid to even think about moving, and I sighed in frustration. What the fuck? The room was dark. The door was open, and I heard soft conversation from down the hallway somewhere.
Call lights.
I was in the hospital. They had those magical buttons.
“You’re awake.”
I glanced back to the door. Bryce was there now. He ran a hand over his face, then let it drop to his side with a heavy thud. In his hand was a coffee.
My nose twitched. “If you wanted to torture me awake, you’re spot-on. Coffee’s the way to go. And you look like death.”
He grunted, moving around my bed and perching on the window frame. “Speak for yourself. You got stabbed by a crazy woman.”
“Hey.” I tried to smirk. It hurt too much so I grunted instead. “I took that bitch down.”
He laughed softly. “Uh, Mena took that bitch down.” The grin fled, and he grew somber. “Of which I’m always going to be grateful to her and I,” he cringed, “can’t believe I just said those two words in the same sentence. Mena. Grateful.”
“Hey. She turned out okay.”
He nodded, lifting his coffee for a sip, but he stopped. Then he put it on the nightstand between us. “She did.” He gestured to the door. “Do you need me to get a nurse or something?”
“No.” I glanced around, saw that I was hooked up to an IV pole and knew this was going to be a new form of torture, but I peeled back my bed sheets and started to push myself to the edge. “But I’ve gotta pee. Badly.”
Yep. I gritted my teeth again. Pain. Agony. I was being stabbed all over again. Then the cold air blasted my back, and I wanted to groan. First things first: pee, then complain. That’s what I did. When I came back from the bathroom, Corrigan was gone. I frowned. “Where’d he go?”
Bryce’s shoulders lifted in a silent breath.
I knew, but I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to do this now, not yet. “The door is shut. The door was open a few seconds ago.” An anchor dropped to the bottom of my stomach.
“It’s time.” He didn’t sound happy about it.
I knew what had happened. Replaying everything in my head, I knew what I had thought and waking up with my hand in Corrigan’s—I grimaced as I asked, “Did I say something?”
He nodded, looking down at the floor for a moment. Then he spoke, his voice gruff, “You called out for him a bunch.”
“I didn’t—”
He confirmed my fear. “You told him you loved him.”
Oh. Fuck. Horror filled my limbs, paralyzing them for a moment. I hadn’t wanted that. Not ever. My throat swelled from emotion and I whispered, “I’m so sorry, Bryce.”
He lifted a shoulder, but he couldn’t hide the agony. “Yeah, well . . .” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Then he cleared his throat and said, raspy, “What can I say? I mean . . .” He let out a loud sigh and turned away. I saw his jaw trembling; he was fighting to control his emotions. “I get it, Sheldon. I do. I—fuck. There’s no easy way to do this, right?”
“Yeah,” I bit out. “If a crazy person hadn’t attacked me, then I wouldn’t have been high on drugs or whatever, and I wouldn’t have blurted that out.” I grew quiet. I hadn’t known. Not really. I didn’t know until I thought I was going to die. That was when I knew. Corrigan was the one.
I felt tears on my cheeks. Goddamn. I was crying again.
“I’m sorry, Sheldon.”
“For what?”
“For not being the guy you wanted.”
Another wave of sadness rolled over me. “Bryce,” I started to say.
He shook his head, stopping me. “We went wrong. I don’t know where, exactly, but maybe I should’ve pushed harder for you. I don’t know. I lost you when I left for soccer. I keep trying to blame Marcus and what we did. Because that means it’s not my fault. That I didn’t do anything wrong. You know, the whole thing about what we did and how you didn’t want to deal with it so all those emotions you have about that moment got swept up with us, you and me. All of it got locked away in you, but it’s not true.”
I was crying. I wasn’t even going to try to stop. So I just let the tears fall.
“I lost you when I left, didn’t I? When I went to Europe for soccer. That’s when it happened. I left you then.”
I whispered, “I followed you.”
He shook his head. The pain was radiating off him. I felt it. It was choking me at the same time, and my god, I didn’t want this to be said. I didn’t want to choose. It wasn’t—how could I love two men? How . . . I couldn’t push past the pain. It was suffocating me.
“I’m so sorry, Bryce.” That was all I could say. “I’m so sorry.”
“I should’ve waited a year.” He spoke as if he were speaking to himself. “I shouldn’t have gone right after high school. Gone to college. Played there. I could’ve kept you. Kept my friendship with Corrigan the same. Everything would’ve been the same. And I wouldn’t have . . . lost you.”
I closed my eyes. It was hurting to see his regret. Hearing it was enough. I felt like I was continuously being stabbed again.
“Can you say something? Please?”
I looked back up. The anguish in his eyes broke me, and the words started to spill. “I don’t have anything to say that will make it better. I didn’t want to choose. I didn’t. I kept putting it off, and I don’t know if I ever would’ve if Maria hadn’t—” An image of her holding the knife flashed in my mind. It rattled me. “I—if she hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have known.”
“You did know. Don’t give me that bullshit. I know you knew. He was in your room the other night.”
“I was angry with you. I wanted someone to blame. I didn’t want to think Grace’s death was my fault, and you offered me an excuse to blame someone else.” I gentled my voice.
“I knew as soon as I shut the door that it was wrong. I told Corrigan that right away. He knew.”
“He still slept with you.”
“He . . .” I hesitated. “It was in case it was our only night, and we didn’t have sex.” A voice laughed in my head at me, But you made love. I held my tongue. “I’m sorry, Bryce. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah.” He hung his head. “You’ve said that already.”
“I—just.” I bit down on my lip. My mind was racing and two things kept blaring at me, but did I dare? Would that help him? I shook my head. I couldn’t hold anything back anymore. Honesty was what he needed. This had to be done the right way, and that’s what I would’ve wanted. So I started, “Corrigan was adamant that I have had a wall blocking you this whole time. He wanted me to chip at it and break it down. I think he thought that when I did that, my old feelings for you would come back, and I didn’t know what would happen then.” I glanced down at my lap. The blanket was tangled up in a ball around my hands and I began picking at a thread. “Maybe there’s a wall. I don’t know, but I’ve tried. I’ve tried breaking it down. I can’t. I just can’t and every time I do, it always comes back to me.” I looked back up. My throat was raw. “We had our time.”
His head folded back down to his chest.
God. I struggled to breathe. I continued, hoarse now, “We didn’t work and sometime in there, I fell in love with Corrigan. The only thing—” I broke off. Did I add this? Would this help him?
Be honest, Sheldon. It’s what he needs.
Grace’s voice drifted back to me. That’s what she would’ve said. So I whispered, “I’m like both you and Corrigan in different ways, but you and me, we’re fucked-up..”
I felt him looking at me again, but this time I was the one who looked away. This was the most honest I’ve ever been and I felt stripped and exposed. I continued, “We’re fuck-ups. We fucked up all the time. In high school. Afterwards. The only thing we did right was saving his life and killing Marcus. I loved you so much back then. I did. You and me, we were an indestructible team. No one was more powerful, but with loving each other, we failed.”
That was the truth.
So was this. “You failed me, and I failed you. And during that time, Corrigan became my rock. He’d do a lot of dark shit, but he’s never fucked-up when it came to being there for me. He was my shelter. Going back there, going through the same pain, it would happen again. If you and I tried again, it would never work. I’m not in love with you anymore.”
He let out a hissing sound.
I bit down on my lip, pausing for a moment.
Keep going, Sheldon. You owe him this moment of complete truth. Do not hold back, Grace’s voice whispered to me again. You wouldn’t want it held back either.
I grinned to myself. Even dead, she was a pain in the ass. She was right, though. I pulled even more at that thread. I kept winding it around my hand. “I think the thing that’s been holding me back is that Corrigan is better than us. I don’t know if I’m the woman for him. I’m sure there’s someone better for him, and that’s the truth about him. I don’t deserve him, but if he’ll have me, I’ll be a better person because of him.”
“Sheldon,” Bryce choked out, shaking his head. “He’s not better than you. Don’t talk about yourself like that. I don’t like hearing that. You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re the fiercest and most loyal person there is. If someone is loved by you, they are goddamn lucky.”
“Yeah.” I pulled harder at the thread. “Maybe. I’m supposed to be letting you down. Stop making me feel better about myself.”
He bit out an anguished laugh. “Yeah. So sorry. Go on breaking my heart.”
I grinned ruefully at him. He mirrored my look, right back at me. I murmured, “I do love you, Bryce. I always will.”
His head jerked up and down in an awkward motion. “I know. You’re just not in love with me.” He sighed. “That’s so fucking cliché.”
But it was true, and tears were rolling down my face again.
“There was no easy way to do this.” He was still half whispering and he gestured for the door. “We decided to get this over with. If we didn’t, it would just gut the other guy. That’s why Corrigan left, to give us this moment. Sheldon, I—” he choked off his words. “I can’t. I can’t do this right now. I—” He shoved upright from the window frame. “I love you. I love him. I love the three of us, and we’ll make it work, somehow. Just . . . give me time.”
“Bryce?” He was going. I didn’t want him to go, not yet. “Don’t—”
It didn’t matter. He crossed the room, cupped both sides of my face in his hands and gazed down at me. He was shattered. That’s all I could think, and then he leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead. He whispered against it, “I will always love you, but you’re right, our time was then. Your time with Corrigan is now.” He turned and pressed his cheek to my forehead, resting there a moment. “Make it work with him.”
My hand reached up, and I grabbed ahold of his arm. My fingers clamped down. I didn’t want him to go, but he pulled away. Moving out of my hold, he lifted the corner of his mouth in a small half-grin, but it looked like it was breaking him at the same time.
A sob erupted from me.
He was going.
The moment was here that I had been fighting for so long.
I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see him go.
“Bye, Sheldon.”
I felt him leave.
I curled over, pressing my face into my lap. No matter how much time would pass, I knew a part of me went with him. The part of me that had loved him in high school, that had been scared of being with him, been scared of losing him, the part of me that loved getting in trouble with him, that loved everything about the us we had been together.
That part went with him, and I would never get that part back.
I sat there and cried.
*
They told me things later.
The police. Officer Sheila. Even Miss Connors came. Everyone was there, everyone except Bryce, and they told me a lot of stuff, but I wasn’t listening. I heard words about how Maria had snuck into the community and somehow intercepted Denton’s car. She was in the trunk. That was how she got through and snuck into the house. There was mention about a stop that the driver did. They think that’s when she got into the trunk.
I didn’t care, but Maria’s words floated back to me. “I sucked a dick, got a ride to the gate.”
More explanations were thrown at me then. How Mena got Denton’s gun. She had snuck one out of Denton’s locked gun cabinet. Then she had heard my screams and came. I was the one who opened the door, when I was trying to escape. It was then, when I fell down and Maria was about to stab me again. That was when she shot her.
Mena killed her.
Mena saved me.
I didn’t care about that either.
As they kept explaining more and more, how they didn’t understand whose warehouse Maria had kept Guadalupe in. They were still figuring out who owned it. There was more. Neil was there. Then Beth. Then Denton and Mena. My dad was professing how happy he was that his daughter was alive. Then Mena was hugging me too, wrapping her skinny little arms around me. She told me to get better, then she looked at my dad. An odd look was in her eye and she reached out for my dad. He took her hand, squeezed it with a tear in his eye, and she professed, her other arm still holding me strong, “I will take care of her.”
He frowned briefly, then squeezed her hand again and smiled. “Thank you. Just thank you so much.” On the last day he came to visit, he said I was always welcomed to visit. They were going home. It was time, and he loved me. He would keep in touch. When he left, I could see that he was thankful to be done with this nightmare.
He never said the words, but I saw the relief on his face.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to visit my dad or not, but Beth, she glanced back and gave me a little wave. Beth hadn’t been that bad.
I m
ight visit her.
Then Carolina came.
She was more fun than the rest. Instead of asking how I was, she took one look at my face and plopped down in the chair beside me. I was told the Greek gossip instead. She talked. I listened, but I still wasn’t really listening. Half of me was in that room for the following days while they monitored me. The other half was gone. It was with Bryce, wherever he was.
He never came back.
Corrigan was there and he was the one I chose, but I was broken. Half of me was gone. I didn’t know how to explain that to him, but Corrigan did what Corrigan always did.
He never asked.
He never pressed.
He was my friend.
He wasn’t more, and that’s what I needed.
There were more visitors, but it was the same thing. I half listened, I half didn’t care they were there until the day I was released from the hospital.
Corrigan took me to a hotel. It was decided before we left the hospital. I didn’t want to go back to Denton’s. Too many memories. I didn’t want to go back to my dad’s either. Too many annoyances and my old home was out—way too many memories there. So a hotel was chosen, and my dad paid for the penthouse. It was his last parting gift. Mena had sighed then when she heard Corrigan talking to Neil over the phone. I heard the envy from her. In that moment, I saw her for the real her. Remembering how Denton shared his concerns about her, how her own father had never loved her, and their mother didn’t want to deal with her—I saw the real Mena. Her body was of a twenty-one year old, but she was a six year old. She was a little girl, one who wanted a family.
She wanted a father like mine.
She swung her gaze to mine, and she blinked, startled. Then she grinned, running a hand over her face. “Sorry. Did you say something?”
I shook my head. “You’re lucky.”
“I am?”
“To have a brother like Denton.” She did have good family. I wanted her to know. “He’s one of the best.”