by Jenn Hype
Before I could spit out a snarky retort, my body went on high alert. It was a subconscious reaction to something in Greg’s eyes that warned me our game of cat and mouse was about to come to an abrupt end. A massive dose of adrenaline released into my bloodstream and the affect led to what I can only describe as an out of body experience.
Time slowed itself down turning seconds into minutes. The sounds of the rest of the world were drowned out by my pounding heart as blood raced through my veins at dangerous speeds. My vision honed in on the danger, blurring everything other than Greg and the path that led him to me. (Side note: Does everyone’s tunnel vision look like they’re tripping on acid? Because seriously, even though everything was blurry, it was all in technicolor. Like I was trapped inside a rainbow. Or Elton John’s closet.)
By the time Greg lunged for me, I was prepared. He raised his fist at the same time I reared back my knife-wielding hand. His battered and bloody hand was aimed straight at my face. Those damn survival instincts tried to take over and force me to dodge him, but the instinct to protect Michelle overpowered my body’s demand for self-preservation. The sharp blade of the knife sliced through his abdomen at the same time his fist connected with my cheek. He hit me with enough force to make me lose my grip on the knife and stumble backwards. I was disoriented from the blow, but I recovered quickly. I looked up just in time to see Greg slowly pulling the knife out of his stomach, drenching Michelle’s white carpet with his blood.
I’m not sure why the sight of his blood pooling on the floor lured me into a trance, but my quick distraction was the very opening he needed. I never even saw him coming. Not until I was on the ground, taking hit after hit did I even realize what was happening. The punching stopped and I thought maybe it was over. Then I felt the slice of a blade being jammed into my side. Worse than the pain was the feeling of drowning. My blood gurgled in my throat, spraying out of my mouth as I coughed and choked.
Everything hurt. And then nothing hurt. When the pain vanished, that’s when I knew for certain I was going to die. The darkness was pulling me under, and I was helpless to fight it, so I closed my eyes and prayed. Prayed that Greg didn’t get to Michelle. Prayed that she wasn’t the one who found my body. Prayed that CJ knew I loved him even though I’d never said the words, despite all the times I wanted to.
My life didn’t flash before my eyes, but rather the life that could have been. The one I might have had if I hadn’t died young. One that included CJ, a house full of kids and big family gatherings with ugly Christmas sweaters and illegal fireworks that nearly took off CJ’s head as he lit them and tried to run away before they exploded.
In the seconds before my world went away, I mourned the life I’d never have.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CJ
“There is a madness in loving you, a lack of reason that makes it feel so flawless.”
- Leo Christopher
“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you don’t quit pacing like that.”
I ignored Malcolm. I ignored everyone.
All the people who loved Blake had taken over the ER waiting room. I wondered if she even knew how many people cared about her. How many lives she’d touched.
Sebastian had ridden in the ambulance with Michelle, who had a mild concussion and slight hangover, but was otherwise perfectly fine. Brady, Sebastian’s brother, had apparently been at the hospital already visiting his son. He came down and sat with Michelle after she was admitted so Sebastian could give the police his statement. He was a good man. Michelle had been clinging to him like a lifeline since he’d shown up, and he never once acted like he was being put out; I knew Brady cared as much about Blake as everyone else did.
Liam, Malcolm and Reed arrived around the same time as Josi and Clara. Liam took Clara to get stuff from both Blake and Michelle’s apartments in case they needed anything. Josi and Malcolm went down to the cafeteria to get snacks and drinks, since no one planned on leaving. Reed was talking to the police, offering our services to help track down Greg.
Because yeah, the fucker was gone. I’d been in and out, only hearing bits and pieces of conversations, but I caught enough to know that Greg was in the wind. If I wasn’t so consumed with worry for Blake, I would have lost my shit on those dumbass cops for losing a man who was leaking blood like a sieve. He left them a goddamn trail of breadcrumbs and based on the amount of blood loss, he was likely moving very slowly. They claimed he ran into a wooded area and with it being dark, they’d lost his trail. By the time they picked it up again and backup arrived, he was gone. The trail ended abruptly at the edge of the interstate. Even the police dogs they’d brought out couldn’t pick up his scent.
Every ER and clinic within a fifty mile radius had been instructed to call the police right away if he tried to get treatment.
No one knew for certain exactly what had happened. Only Blake would be able to fill in the missing details. What we did know was that the idiot jumped out of a second story window. He left Blake bleeding out in the living room and had just yanked Michelle out of bed and slammed her head into a wall when he heard Sebastian trying to break down the door. If Sebastian hadn’t shown up when he did…
I couldn’t even go there. Every time my mind started to wander to the what-ifs, I almost lost my shit. The worst thing I could do right now is get tossed out of the hospital when Blake was fighting just to stay alive. The second she was out of surgery and placed into a room, my ass wasn’t leaving. I’d fucking chain myself to her bed if I had to. She was going to pull through, and when she woke up, I was going to be right there. I wanted my face to be the first thing she saw. And I wanted my voice to be the first thing she heard. I’d failed her tonight, but she needed to know it would never happen again.
Fuck Jade Securities. Yelling at Blake and putting a client before her was mistake number one. She could have reacted better, but if the situation were reversed, I’d likely have wound up in jail. Just the idea of walking into a room where Blake was alone with a man who had his hands on her… I had to take deep, steadying breaths just to keep from losing my shit over something completely hypothetical and only in my head.
Fuck my pride. Not going to her immediately was mistake number two. Even though Blake had conspired with my mom and pretty much everyone else in my life to get me worked up, I knew Blake didn’t play games. And really, if I thought about it, nothing Blake had done was abnormal for her. She was crazy before she’d ever even met my mom. All mom did was motivate her not to give up when I acted like the world’s biggest dick.
And finally, fuck me. The one thing getting in the way the most was myself. For so long I thought I’d gotten over what happened in that fucking desert. I thought I’d come to terms with losing part of my leg. I’d fooled myself into believing watching those men die hadn’t darkened part of my soul just enough to dim my vision, forcing me to see the world in a darker light. Denial had enabled me to trick myself into thinking I was perfectly fine. I wasn’t fucking fine.
Since starting Jade Securities, I preached to my men about talking to the therapist I provided and seeking help for any and all issues they were struggling with. I stood on my fucking pedestal and spouted out the most hypocritical bullshit imaginable. I genuinely wanted all my employees to be happy and healthy, and now I knew why I fought so hard for them - I’d given up on myself. I was living vicariously through their healing and their lives. As long as they were okay, I was able to trick myself into believing I was okay too.
From the second Blake entered my life, my world as I knew it started to unravel. Even when I told myself I was okay with letting her in, that my feelings for her were acceptable, I never truly believed it. For years I’d played the part of the stoic veteran whose armor was impenetrable. With Blake I played the part of healed soldier who was opening up to the world again. And it wasn’t all fake. Each role I acted out through the years came from somewhere inside of me, but I was only letting parts of myself out at a time.
; No more holding back. I’d been a coward masquerading as a hero, but no more. I had a long ways to go, but I would get there. And I would do it with Blake by my side. She belonged there, and more than wanting her with me every step of my journey, I needed her. Needing her didn’t make me feel vulnerable or afraid like I had thought. It just felt right. Everyone needed backup in dangerous, unpredictable situations. We were trained not to deal with threats in the field without backup. It was drilled into our heads. Why would I think life was any different?
Blake was my teammate, my soulmate, my everything. And needing to tell her that the second she opened her eyes was the only thing keeping the fear at bay. I wouldn’t lose her. I couldn’t.
“She’s too stubborn to die, ya know,” Michelle said quietly, approaching me like I was lit match about to set fire to a stick of dynamite.
My shoulders tensed. Die. She said the word like it was nothing. I hadn’t even been able to let myself consider the possibility. Not consciously, anyway. The sureness in Michelle’s voice and the unwavering look in her eyes made my body sag in relief.
“I keep thinking this is all my fault.” Michelle held her hand up when I opened my mouth to argue. “I know it’s not,” she went on. “Greg is the only person who can be held accountable for his actions. My therapist has been repeating that to me over and over for months.”
My eyebrows shot up and Michelle chuckled. She gestured to a seat nearby. Everyone else was gathering around a section of chairs several feet away. I didn’t want to sit. I wanted to keep pacing. But Michelle shot me that stubborn look Blake used all the time that meant I better cave because I was about to enter an argument I would surely lose. Resigned, I sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair Michelle was pointing at. She sat down across from me. For a few minutes, neither of us talked. We just stared straight at the ground, both lost in our own thoughts.
“How much has Blake told you about what happened with Greg?”
My head snapped up. “According to Blake she doesn’t really know much about what happened. I think she learned more from the police report than from what you told her.”
Michelle winced. I was being harsh. I didn’t have it in me to apologize. I was wound too tightly to use kiddie gloves. If Michelle was going to force me to talk, then she’d have to deal.
“I thought I was protecting her.” Michelle sighed. “She blamed herself enough already. If she knew how bad things had gotten…”
I jerked my chin in understanding.
“I see now I just should have been up front. We always told each other everything. She knows me too well to believe I was completely fine. So instead of making it better, I made it worse.” She reached up to run her hand through her hair and winced when she touched the spot where she’d hit her head. Or rather, where Greg had slammed her head into a wall before running away like a pussy.
“Blake always thought I was the strong one. I always did as I was told. Always lived up to everyone’s expectations. I never lost my cool or slipped up. She took that to mean I was stronger than her. It was the total opposite. Staying in line was easier. I didn’t have to take chances or risk making a mistake. The fear of failing the people who loved me kept me from ever really living. Blake,” Michelle laughed, “Blake always marched to the beat of her own drum. She just did what felt right and dealt with the consequences later. Everything from liberating the animals in the biology lab or starting a campaign to try and get the PE teacher, Mr. Arnold, to stop wearing obscenely short shorts.”
Despite the angst wound tight around my gut, I chuckled.
“I envied her,” Michelle said quietly, her smile turning somber. “I never told her. I should have. And I will,” she said with determination, like she were reminding herself that she’d have another chance.
“You guys talking about how awesome Blake is?” Josi asked, plopping down into the seat next to mine.
“You know what’s not awesome?” Clara asked, taking the seat on my other side. “Her cleaning skills. I’m not sure Blake even knows how to use a clothes hanger. All her clothes were shoved in draws or spread out all over the floor.”
Liam grunted. “Miss High Maintenance here insisted on cleaning the entire apartment before we left.” He hitched his thumb in Clara’s direction.
I shot her a the fuck he talking about look. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, like she wanted me to drop it. Clara was a lot of things, but high maintenance wasn’t one of them. For whatever reason, she wanted Liam to keep on believing she was, though. I made a note to talk to her about what the hell was going on there later, after everything with Blake settled down.
“Also not awesome about Blake,” Malcolm chimed in as he joined the group, sitting himself next to Michelle. “Her cooking skills. Don’t ever try to eat something Blake made if it required any type of heating.”
Reed and Sebastian approached. Sebastian was wearing clean clothes. I was thankful. The sight of all that blood made it impossible to look at him. It was a reminder of how bad of shape Blake was in, and I couldn’t handle it.
“Where’s Brady?” I asked, noticing he was the only one missing.
Sebastian grunted. “Went home to get some sleep. He has to get up for work at three a.m. He tried to call off, but he can’t afford to right now, so I had to practically force him out to his truck.”
I nodded. Brady was good people. In fact, I was surrounded by good people. It was late and everyone was exhausted, yet no one made any move to leave. They wanted to be there for Blake. For me. For each other. How had I gotten so damn lucky without even realizing it? My family had almost tripled in size, and I was just now appreciating it.
Speaking of family…
Mom and dad appeared at the entry to the ER. Dad was carrying a giant canvas bag and he headed our way. Mom stopped off at the receptionists desk and handed the woman sitting behind the computer a foil container, mostly likely full of brownies. The woman had been glaring daggers at me for the past hour, but she smiled at mom like she hung the moon. Guess that honey and vinegar saying had some truth to it.
“Sustenance,” dad announced, holding up the bag as he approached. Josi and Clara shot into action, clearing the waiting room tables of magazines and tissue boxes and other crap that had accumulated on them. Michelle pulled a container of Clorox wipes out of the bag in dad’s hands and started to sterilize every possible surface with Sebastian’s help. (Mom always thought of everything.) Reed and Malcolm started pulling plates, napkins and eating utensils from the bag while dad spread out whatever food it was mom had brought.
I was too distracted taking everything in to be of any help. Part of me wanted to scream at everyone for pretending Blake wasn’t severely hurt and in surgery, but I knew why they were doing it. Worrying ourselves sick wouldn’t help her any.
“We need our strength for when she comes to,” mom said to everyone, but her gaze was pointed at me like she knew what I’d been thinking.
Without over-thinking it, I stood and wrapped mom in a hug. She made a surprised noise, but returned my hug right away. She practically disappeared in my arms. Sometimes I forgot how small she was because her personality had always been so big. Mom was fierce and fearless, and it made it easy to overlook her tiny size.
“Family of Blake Myers,” a voice announced from behind us. I released mom in time to see Michelle jump to her feet and run over. Everyone went silent.
“I’m her sister,” Michelle told the man in scrubs, her voice thick with emotion.
The doctor introduced himself and looked past her to our group, all of which were staring with unabashed nosiness. “It’s fine,” Michelle assured them. “They’re family too.”
“Your sister has two fractured and suffered extensive blood loss. The knife that pierced her chest cavity narrowly missed any internal organs, so she’s very fortunate.”
The doctor went on to describe the rest of her injuries. Most of which he described as minor, but sounded pretty fucking major to me. It wasn’t until
the end of his fucking speech about all the ways that fucker messed up her body that he finally said she would be okay.
He couldn’t fucking lead with that? Doctors were such assholes.
“She’s in recovery now. As soon as she’s moved to a room, you’ll be able to go back and see her.”
The doctor said a few more things to Michelle before walking off. I was just barely processing everything.
Blake was okay. Her body was banged up, she would live. Full recovery. I was sure he’d said those words.
For the next hour, I merely existed. Everyone moved around me, but it was all a blur. I heard people talking, but the words were all muffled. Somewhere on the surface I knew Blake was okay. The doctor’s words replayed over and over in my head on an endless loop. Yet, until I saw it for myself, it just wouldn’t sink in. Part of me just couldn’t let go of the fear.
A hand on my arm jolted me out my head and back into the land of the living.
“It’s time,” Michelle said calmly.
I had to fight not to take off in a dead sprint. If I had any clue where her room was, I would have. Luckily it didn’t take long to reach her.
Michelle walked in first. She cried over Blake for a few minutes, stroking her hair and whispering too low for me to hear.
“I need to call my parents. You’ll sit with her?”
I nodded and swallowed thickly.
Blake looked so small and fragile. She had a tube down her throat and wires coming out of seemingly every part of her body. Her chest rose and fell steadily, the beeping of the monitor the only sound filling the room. I pulled the visitor chair from the corner over to her bedside and sat down. For a long time I just sat there, watching her breathe.