by Jane Lark
I had a shower to wake myself up, using her shampoo and soap. Then I got dressed. My shirt stunk. I’d been wearing it for two days, but I didn’t have anything else to wear.
I was slipping my boots on, sitting on the edge of the bed when Portia woke up.
“You okay?” Her voice was husky.
I looked back. There was a line of moonlight across her middle, falling over the sheets, outlining her body as she sat up. Her hand pushed back her hair. “Yeah. I’m gonna go back to the hospital, Portia.”
“Do you want me to come?”
“Only if you want to, you don’t have to.” But actually I’d like it. “Yeah.”
She shifted instantly, getting up and hurrying around in order to get dressed.
I leaned back on the bed waiting. She was ready in fifteen minutes, her hair brushed and braided, her jeans on, and a loose sweater covering the top she’d put on. She tossed me my coat, then pulled on hers. We’d be at the hospital for about quarter past five. Mom and the boys would probably be asleep, and we wouldn’t be allowed to disturb Jake. Even so, I just had to be there.
The woman on reception nodded at us. As did a nurse sitting at the desk leading into the ICU ward. I gripped Portia’s hand tighter.
But when we rounded the corner of the corridor, leading to the alcove where we’d spent the last two days, I saw something odd.
There was guy at the end of it. A black guy. I was black and I shouldn’t judge but… It didn’t feel right. His hand was behind his back, as if he gripped something, hiding it; it was something tucked into his pants beneath his leather jacket.
My fingers clasped Portia’s tighter as I followed.
He can’t have heard us, he didn’t turn ‘round, just kept walking, with a street swagger.
He had an attitude. I could feel it radiating from him. He wasn’t young. He looked late twenties. But everything about him made my skin itch.
This wasn’t right.
He kept walking.
I kept walking, lifting a finger to my lips to silence Portia as we walked past the alcove. Shit. This was not right.
He still had his hand at the back of his pants and was striding along in a chilled out pace, but he didn’t look chilled. He looked nervous. His muscles moved stiffly.
I kept going, pulling Portia with me.
Then the mother-fucker turned toward the door Jake lay behind. Fricking … He didn’t look back at us even then, and I knew why, because he was hiding his face from the hospital’s security cameras and trying to make out like it was perfectly normal for him to stroll into Jake’s room. There was no way he was a doctor, and no way was he a plain clothes cop.
I looked back at Portia, letting her fingers go. “Go for help, that’s Jake’s room and that isn’t right.”
Her mouth opened in shock, but it only took her a second to react before turning and running back toward the nurses’ desk. I carried on.
It never occurred to me to think of myself–to not run toward Jake’s room. Not for an instant. I never even slowed at the door, just shoved it open.
The mother-fucker!
The guy was leaning over Jake, pressing the barrel of a gun into Jake’s forehead. Jakes eyes turned to me, full of terror. Jake never looked to me for help–never–he’d hated me taking Dad’s place. He’d even blamed me for Dad leaving. But now… Now he looked at me like he was drowning in the sea, and I was the only boat in sight. I could think of nothing to do but go at the guy. Portia had all the talk. I just had my fists. I charged at him, shouting.
A loud sharp bang resonated in the air around me as I powered into him and the gun went off; deafening me for an instant and leaving my ears ringing.
The guy fell backwards and I came down on top of him. His head hit the hard floor-tiles and rebounded. The force drove the air from his lungs. Pulling back on to my knees, I thrust my fist at his jaw. Sirens screamed outside the hospital and Jake’s machine was going off, sending out a distress call.
I struck the guy’s jaw again, my mind screening out the noise, and gripped his collar pulling him up. His head lolled back, but I still hit him one more time. Then someone was in the room, in scrubs, hauling me off and a guy’s arms pinned me, while behind me voices spoke to Jake, moving about the bed.
Shit.
Consciousness crowded back in on me as the room filled up.
The guy had had a gun pointed at Jake.
Jake was dead. I’d heard the gun fire. I couldn’t hear him; all I could hear was his machine screaming that he’d flat-lined.
Shit.
The guy who’d pulled me up was still gripping both my arms behind my back. “Let me go! Let me go! He’s my brother!” The guy’s grip eased and I turned. “Jake!” I expected to see his brains blown out… I expected… I feared…
He was looking at me, his eyes wide, dark orbs with the lights in the room still out.
I shut my eyes. Thank you God. Whichever God you really are. If you’re there… Thanks.
“Justin…” He said weakly, I opened my eyes. Jake was looking at the guy who held me. “He is my brother.”
The guy let me go and I went to Jake and gripped his hand. “What the fuck, Jake?”
“He uses the gang to move drugs. He was checking I hadn’t told the cops.”
“Jake…”
“I’m sorry.”
I gripped his hand. “It’s okay. You’re out of it now, and you were trying to get out of it.”
Tears slipped from his eyes. “I messed up.”
“You did. But you can put it right now.”
And shit, I’d have to put it right too; there was no choice anymore.
There was a load of noise outside. People. Someone stopped the sound Jake’s machine was making. Then I saw the sticky pad that had been on his chest, dangling by the bed. He’d pulled it off to make out he’d flat-lined, to get someone in here.
I pressed his shoulder again and a tear ran from his eye. I wiped it away.
“It’s gonna be okay.” I said as three cops pushed through the door.
The burly medics in the room moved the guy on the floor so the cops could cuff him. There would be more painful interviews now.
“I better go see Mom.”
Jake nodded. But a cop stopped me before I could get out.
“You’re not going anywhere, son.”
“I just wanna tell my Mom, he’s okay. Then I’ll come back.”
“We’ll tell your mother. You need to speak to us first.”
Mom was gonna be left worrying. Portia… The boys…
~
I wished they’d let us see Justin. He’d been gone for nearly two hours. Dillon was sitting with me. Robin and Justin’s Mom were too anxious to entertain him. We’d been told some guy had taken a gun into Jake’s room, that Jake wasn’t injured and that Justin wasn’t injured, but nothing else.
My heart was pounding out a rhythm as if I was standing against a base speaker and it reverberated through me. I could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips. I turned another page of the book Dillon was reading to me.
I’d lost patience with waiting. Come on, let him go. He must be so tired.
I thought of Jake too. Lying in that bed all alone, he’d had a shock. He probably wanted to see his mom.
Come on.
I focused back on Dillon. At least I was helping in some small way. Justin’s mom smiled at me, she’d kept smiling. I smiled back.
When Justin finally walked down the hall ten minutes later, his fingers were rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache and his knuckles were split open.
Dillon jumped up and rushed toward him, hugging him around the waist when he got there. Justin’s hand came down on Dillon’s shoulder and squeezed it.
His mom and Robin stood, and went to meet him in the hall.
I stayed back.
“What happened?” his mom asked.
“A guy was using the gang Jake got caught up in to deliver drugs. He didn’t want Jake tellin
g. He thought he’d scare him into silence. Unfortunately for him, I caught him doing it… He’s been arrested. It means that Jake’s gonna have to go to court twice though. Have you seen him?”
Mrs. Preston shook her head.
“We better go see him.” Justin looked at me, his eyes saying sorry. I smiled. I wanted to hold him but he had to see his brother first. I respected that. I respected him.
“Dillon…” Justin looked down. “Be good, stay with Robin, we’ll be back in a bit. Then you can come in and see Jake, yeah?”
Dillon sighed, the poor kid so was bored of waiting out here, but he turned to Robin.
Justin turned away, his arm bracing his mom’s shoulders.
“Why don’t we go down to the restaurant or the shop or something…?” I suggested to Dillon.
Robin looked at me. “Don’t leave me on my own up here.” He was tired, worried–we all were.
“Then come.”
Robin gripped Dillon’s hand. I walked on the other side of him. I loved how close these brothers were. I’d built up a ton of respect for Justin’s mom too.
“What’s between you and Justin?” Robin asked as we walked up the corridor.
I looked at him, and his question echoed in my head. What were we? Boyfriend and girlfriend. Dating. It didn’t feel like just that, anymore.
“You’ve hung out here a lot,” Robin added, meeting my gaze. His eyes were the same shade as Justin’s, same long dark eyelashes.
“Yeah. But we’re only dating.” As I said it there was an ache in my chest that said that was an utter lie, there was no only about it.
~
I was itching to see Portia. Literally itching. My hands hurt to be able to touch her. That was how I’d felt last night when I’d raced out of the hospital and headed over to hers. But now it was more than just a sexual itch–it was a soul deep itch. My spirit longed for her.
When I came out of Jake’s room, leaving Mom with him, my heart was thumping, like some guy was banging a fist against my ribcage in my chest. But she wasn’t there. None of them were.
My heart clenched. God, if Portia had got caught up in my family’s shit…
I headed for the nurses’ desk at the end of the hall and leaned over it pinning the woman with my gaze. “Where’s my family?”
She gave me a placating smile; she knew what we’d gone through this morning. “They’re downstairs, probably getting a drink or something…”
My heart pounded. I wanted to know Robin and Dillon were safe… but her, Portia in particular. No girl had come higher than my family before.
My feet shifted in the elevator and my hands curled into fists and then released about a dozen times with impatience and worry.
I followed the signs to the restaurant in the basement level… If they weren’t there…
I threw the door wide as I walked in, my eyes scanning the place. They were there. It hurt to look at her. She was leaning toward Robin, and they were laughing, and Dillon was sitting next to Robin playing with something they must have got him in the shop.
Relief flooded my veins followed by an intense flow of need. Something attached me to Portia, something binding. I was well and truly caught now.
I walked over to them. Portia was the first to notice me. She leaned back, when she saw me and her face lit up, no exaggeration, she literally glowed with joy, showing as much relief as I felt, then concern clouded her expression as she stood. “You okay?”
“Okay now,” I answered as I hugged her fiercely, lifting her off her feet. Then I put her down and kissed her.
When I let her go Robin was looking away awkwardly, and she was blushing as Dillon stared up at us.
Portia’s fingers brushed my cheek and then ran up over my head. I was still holding her waist.
“You really okay?”
“Yeah, honest.”
She smiled. “Robin’s been dishing some dirt on you.”
“Like what?”
Her fingers pressed against my cheek and her smile grew. “He’s told me about your ex-girlfriends.”
My eyebrows lifted and I looked at Robin. He shrugged. The sneak.
“He said you’ve never had a serious thing with anyone. He thinks we’re serious.”
I laughed. “Nice of him to tell you.”
Robin’s eyebrows lifted at me now. “Well, you don’t want to lose this one do you…?” Life advice from my seventeen year old brother–crazy.
“Take Dillon upstairs, you can go in and see Jake. Mom’s in there. He’s okay, tired, and shaken up, but okay. He’s learned his lesson.”
Robin nodded and Dillon scrambled out of his seat, looking up at me.
“You alright, kid? Jake’s gonna be okay.”
“He nodded grinning at me.” I caught him in a loose headlock and rubbed his head with my sore knuckles before letting him go. He was laughing when he slipped away and ran off ahead of Robin.
I turned back to Portia.
“You’re so good with them,” she said.
“You’ve been pretty good with them too. Thank you. You being around made this easier.” Now I knew I had to say something, but the words were sticking in my throat. Pride. But I had common sense too.
“Sit down, Portia, and finish your coffee.” My voice came out more serious than I intended, callous probably, but it was due to my inner battle, not her. Common sense.
The pleasure in her expression collapsed. She did sit down though.
I rubbed a hand over my face; feeling the pressure, worry and exhaustion of the last forty-eight hours hit me. My hand fell to the table and she gripped it.
“Do you want me to get you a coffee?”
I shook my head. “No the cops got me one.” I turned my hand in hers, so our palms touched, that was where our colors collided. Then I looked up at her blue eyes. She was not the girl I’d thought she was months ago, she was all things good.
“I want to accept your offer of the flat to rent. I’m sorry I got so angry over it. It’s a good idea. Sensible. No way can we go back to the Bronx. Mom is going to have to accept it. Your help is a God send. Thank you.” She knew how much it cut me to say it. I could see the understanding in her eyes–and thank God she didn’t gloat.
“Okay. Everything’s still going through, I didn’t call it off. I’d have bought it anyway.”
“Well it’s not going to be easy convincing Mom. But you were right. As this morning proved, those guys are going to keep looking for Jake, and us. All of us. We need to start again somewhere, and your help means we can.”
I looked down out our hands, then up again. “I feel shit about it…”
She smiled gently. “I know.”
“And if anything happens between us…”
“We’ll deal with it then, Justin, but right now, we can’t know the future, but I do know that all I want is you in it. Just you…” Her fingers curled around my hand.
Yeah. “That’s how I feel too.”
Chapter Fourteen
Portia laughed throwing my coat at me. “We’re late. If Mr. Rees is in, we’re gonna be in a whole pile of shit.”
“Well you shouldn’t look so sexy when you wake up and I wouldn’t want to do you.”
“Do me… Romantic.”
I smiled at her as I pulled on my coat. “I’ll romance you anytime, baby.”
She grimaced at me over her shoulder as she opened the door. “For that, you can cook tonight.”
“For that, I will, but I’ll blindfold you when you eat it.”
“Fuck off with all your kinky shit … ”
“You love kinky…”
She gave me an evil eye as she grabbed an umbrella and walked out. Rain was hammering down on the skylight above.
I laughed.
We’d been living together for two months. I’d stayed with Mom and the others for a month after Jake got out of hospital, making sure they settled. But Mom had changed her shifts now, she only worked when Dillon and Jake were at school, and she w
alked to and from school with them. They were in new schools; on the far side of Queens, well away from any of the rough areas in the Bronx. It hadn’t really been a decision to move in with Portia; it had just happened. I’d started staying over, and then I’d just never left and moved more and more of my clothes across.
I’d never lived with a girl before but now that we were a couple, I was with her 24-7. Still, I kept shaking things up with a bit of kinky stuff and silly dates to make sure we didn’t get boring. Portia hadn’t got with me because I was boring and I didn’t want to lose her.
When we got down to the street, we hit the rain. It was pouring down, hard and fast. She opened the umbrella before stepping out and raised it. She was in in-office, clothing. The in-office personality was getting left behind more and more, but she still looked different at work than she did at home.
“Come under,” she said, as I flicked up my hood. Couple-y.
“I’m alright.”
“You’re getting wet.”
“I can cope with wet.”
She rolled her eyes at me, but then a gust of wind blew the rain sideways right up under her umbrella, catching the thing and trying to pull it from her hand. She squealed. I gripped the handle, my hand over hers and my other hand caught the brim to hold it steady. See, now I was cowering under an umbrella with her. But the look I got for it was worth it. The prim perfect Portia was still at her core, the one that had to have everything right because she’d been shouted at too many times for getting things wrong as a kid. She’d hate going into work soaked.
I told her every day that she was perfect to me.
She laughed and stopped walking, her gaze tangling up with mine. Her blue eyes made me forget we were in the middle of a busy street getting in people’s way. I let go of the rim of the umbrella as her mouth opened.
“I love you.” She said it like it was a discovery.
My other hand loosened from over hers as they gripped the handle of the umbrella.
“I think I’ve felt it for ages,” she whispered, her eyes shining at me. “But just now, the words leaked out of my heart and they were everywhere. I love you, Justin, seriously. I hope we last… You’re all I want.”