Fighting the Fall

by J. B. Salsbury

  “Get out.”

  “Fuck that. I had to sit here and listen to you blab about shit you know nothing about. It’s my turn to talk, and you’re gonna listen even if that means I need to gag you to get you to do that.”

  Her eyes widen in shock. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would, and I’d enjoy the shit out of it.” I pace the small room. “You’re the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met.”

  “I know what I saw.”

  “What you saw was me listening to a very sick and sad woman.”

  “Shirtless.”

  I whirl on her, and in one long stride, I’m at her bedside. I lean over and brace my weight on the bed just above her shoulders so that our noses are mere inches away. “Final warning, Yvette. Shut. Up.”

  She rolls her lips between her teeth but glares in defiance.

  I push back up to standing and gaze down at her. “I took my shirt off because it was soaked in her tears. She pulled some fucked-up shit on me that I was not having. I was upset, told her to get the hell home, turned to go to bed, and she followed—”

  Her mouth gapes.

  “Don’t fucking do that. Do not go there in your head.”

  Her swollen eyelids flutter.

  “You want to know what I was thinking last night, what you saw on my face? I was thinking about you. How I should’ve never left you at that restaurant.” I watch and wait for what I’ve told her to sink in. “If I wanted her, why would I be here? Don’t you get it? I’m here. With you.”

  “But you’re here because I’m her. You want to fix her, and I remind you of her, so you want to fix me too.”

  I shake my head and step to the edge of her bed. “No, doll. I told you before you’re not her. Not even close. I’m here because you’re you.”

  She chews on her lip for a moment. “I went home thinking you were done with me, and when someone showed up at my door in the middle of the night, I thought . . .”

  She thought the loan shark was me? Makes sense; it’s exactly what I would’ve done had I been able to drop ’Li off. She opened the door, expecting me. If I’d called her, explained what was going on, she never would’ve answered the door and let that piece of shit in.

  Dammit, this is exactly the kind of crap I worried she’d be signing herself up for by being with me. No matter how hard I try, my head will always be a few steps behind. She’s lucky she was able to get away from that guy last night. If she hadn’t, who knows what he would’ve done in order to get his money?

  Holy fuck! If I’d called her last night or maybe never left the restaurant to chase after D’lilah, Eve would’ve been home safe with me all night and never would’ve gotten in a car accident.

  Jonah’s wife would still be pregnant, their baby growing in the safety of her mother’s belly rather than a plastic box hooked up to a dozen tubes. My pulse pounds in my ears. My knees go MIA, and I hold the guardrail of the hospital bed to stay standing.

  This is my fault. Not outwardly, but I made decisions last night that set a series of shit in motion. Just like with Rosie. Holy fuck!

  “I’m sorry.” The apology is weak, puny in comparison to what I’ve done. “I never should’ve left you at the restaurant. If I hadn’t . . .” None of this would’ve happened.

  “I was so sure it was you banging on my door, but when I realized it wasn’t . . .” A visible shiver wracks her body. “Thank God Jonah came when he did.”

  Now I know why she called Jonah instead of me. She thought I was hooking up with D’lilah. Dammit! I can understand why Jonah was giving me a look that he wanted to kill me during the meeting before he got the call about Raven.

  “Anyway, I’m moving in with Jonah and Raven for a little while.”

  They’ll keep her safe. She deserves that, and yet disappointment tightens my chest. “That’s a”—I clear the words I really want to say from my throat—“good idea.”

  “Raven and I were talking about it”—her eyes go unfocused over my shoulder and then narrow—“this morning when we were . . .” She stares thoughtfully at nothing. “We talked about our song.”

  “Eve?”

  “Barstow and then . . .” She blinks rapidly. Her chest rises and falls faster. “Oh God. No.” Her face goes pale.

  “What is it?” I cup her good cheek, the skin clammy against my palm. “Are you in pain?”

  “I think I . . .” Tears slide over her lower lids and mark trails down her cheeks. “No!”

  I cup her face with both hands to force her eyes to mine. “Talk to me. What?”

  “I . . . The accident.” Her breath comes faster and faster. She’s going to hyperventilate.

  “What about it?”

  Her expression goes from slack to twisted in agony. “It was me.” She chokes on a sob. “The Nova was my idea.”

  Thirty-Four

  Eve

  I’m being crushed from the inside. Heart, lungs, and stomach compacted in the vise grip of my memory.

  It was my idea to take out the Nova. Raven only agreed to make me feel better. Music. I remember the music was loud. The crash was quick. I can almost see it in slow motion. We were hit hard. My head slammed into the side window, and then everything went black.

  “Eve, doll, talk to me.”

  I look to the voice without seeing.

  “Let’s go for it.”

  “Oh, no. Jonah would kill me.”

  “Is he here?”

  “No.”

  “A ten-minute cruise around the neighborhood. We’ll roll the windows down, blast your crappy fifties music. It’ll be just like old times.”

  “I don’t know, Eve.”

  “Oh come on! It’ll be fun.”

  “Fine.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “I talked her into the Nova,” I whisper.

  The bed shifts, but I don’t feel any pain . . . only regret and stifling guilt.

  “Eve, listen to me right now.”

  I blink up to sympathetic . . . no, empathetic eyes?

  “This isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known you’d get hit.”

  “The Nova. Jonah didn’t want her driving it because it’s not safe. I talked her into it. She said no, but I talked her into it.”

  The panic wells in my chest. Sweat breaks out over my skin. I can’t suck in enough air. I’m dizzy. The baby. What if she doesn’t make it or if she has complications because of the accident? Raven will never forgive me. I’ll never forgive me.

  “I have to get out of here.” I pull at the monitoring wires. “I need to go.” Tears flow freely down my face.

  “Hold on; just calm down.” Cameron’s hands come to my shoulders.

  “No! Let me go.” I swing my legs over the bed and search for a way to get to air. “I can’t stay here. I can’t breathe.” I stand and take quick steps toward the door before the sting of my IV stops me.

  Strong arms wrap me up from behind, and a splinter of pain twists in my side, but it’s nothing compared to what I deserve. I savor it and take my punishment.

  “There’s no air.” A soul-deep sob rips from my throat; my body shakes with the force of it. “My chest hurts.”

  “Shh, I know.” He rubs soothing circles on my back. “I know.”

  I pull back and look him in the eyes. “You don’t know, Cameron! You have no fucking clue. I did this. The baby could die because of me.”

  His face gets hard.

  “How am I going tell Jonah it’s my fault he almost lost his wife and baby?” I press against my breastbone, the pain slicing through. “How will I explain that it’s my fault that he almost lost his wife and baby the same way he lost his father?”

  The entire weight of my body sinks, but I don’t hit the ground. Cameron’s hold keeps me upright, even though my legs are completely limp beneath me.

  “They’re my family.” I hiccup through my bawling and my head throbs. His arms drop around my waist, and he buries his nose in my shoulder.


  I cry with uncontrollable wails and pain. So much pain.

  Oh, God, what have I done? They’ll never forgive me.

  ~*~

  Cameron

  A nurse rushes into the room, her eyes wide on me. “What’s going on?” She quickly studies the beeping machine and then Eve, who’s falling apart in my arms. “Get her to the bed.” She jogs out of the room.

  “Come on, Eve.” It’s a waste of breath to speak because she’s so lost in her sadness and guilt that she’s not hearing a damn thing outside of her own agony.

  I lift her up as gently as I can, and her arms wrap around my neck, holding on while she whispers remorse-laden prayers into my neck. A sense of déjà vu makes my chest heavy, and the urge to run is overwhelming. Every cry from her lips pulls at a part of me that I’ve hidden deep. A part covered with years of avoidance and a shitload of work.

  The regret.

  Guilt.

  Loss.

  I lower her to the bed just at the nurse comes back in with a syringe. My first instinct is to crouch in front of Eve to protect her from the sting of the needle, but I know the anguish she’s going through. I’ve felt the same things she’s feeling.

  The nurse steps forward. “Hold her steady.” She injects what I’m assuming is a sedative into Eve’s IV. “That shouldn’t take long to kick in.” She crosses the room to drop the syringe in the sharps box. “I’ll be back in a minute, after she calms down.”

  Eve’s eyes slide closed and her breathing slows.

  “I won’t be here.” There’s no way I can do this shit.

  I’ve spent the last fourteen years of my life with my back to the pain. I’m not ready to turn and face it now.

  Not even for Eve.

  I’m not brave enough.

  The nurse checks Eve’s vitals, and it’s clear the meds have kicked in and she’s fallen asleep. “What set her off?”

  “She remembered the accident.”

  “Mm, okay, I could see how that would be disturbing.” She tucks Eve in and hits a couple buttons on the machine at her side.

  “What’s your name?”

  The nurse smiles in a way that, combined with her salt-and-pepper hair, reminds me of a grandmother. “Rose.”

  A vicious stab slices through my gut. I stand and fight to breathe through what I’m about to do. “Do me a favor?” I pull a wad of twenties from my wallet, no clue how many, but enough. “Make sure she has a ride home when she’s discharged.” I pull out more cash. “And some clean, comfortable clothes.”

  Rose fingers through the cash and tries to hand it back. “Sir, I can’t—”

  I hold up my hand. “Please. She doesn’t have family and”—I clear my throat and swallow the burn of remorse—“I won’t be around.”

  Her lips form a tight line, but she nods. “Okay.”

  She’s not stupid. I’m sure she can sense the coward in me running away with my tail between my legs.

  My gaze slides to Eve. She looks so peaceful now, not at all as she did minutes ago when the world was crumbling down around her. I lean in and place a soft kiss to her lips, mindful not to disturb her. God, I’m going to miss her.

  “Thank you.” And without another thought, I turn from the room and pat the dirt on the shredded and now recovered emotions from my past.

  She’ll realize after the drugs wear off that none of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for the decisions I made last night. Then she’ll hate me. Resent me. And we can both go back to being where we were when we started.

  She has people in her life who will take care of her: people who care for her like I do, but won’t fuck her up like I will.

  Like I already have.

  ~*~

  Eve

  Midnight and not a word from Cameron.

  After waking up from my drug-induced nap, I expected to see him here. I expected to open my eyes to him scowling at me from the corner. I expected . . .

  And ain’t that the shit that screws me over every time.

  I blink heavy eyelids and know that although my body demands rest my mind is too busy for it. Instead, I study the long triangle of light that slices through the dark hospital room floor. The eerie silence with the occasional murmur of nurses from the hallway lulls me to self-inspection.

  The accident was my fault. Guilt’s oppressive weight constricts my chest. Raven and the baby are alive, but they shouldn’t even be here. If I hadn’t been so caught up in my own life, my own pain, I never would’ve pushed so hard to take out the Nova.

  The low grumble of a man’s voice, followed by the soft whisper of a woman’s, filters in from the hallway. I shove up on an elbow, and my heart pounds wildly in my chest.

  Cameron?

  His shadow drowns out the light as he trudges through the door and into my room. I fish around my blankets for the remote that turns on the light and grunt through the throbbing in my shoulder.

  “You’re back.” Ah-ha! There it is. I click on the light to illuminate the towering fighter. “Oh, Jonah. Hey.” The hollow in my chest aches.

  He doesn’t speak but crosses to a chair that sits near the window. He drops down and slouches into the seat, his forehead to his palm.

  “What happened?” My breath freezes in my lungs. “Is it Sadie?”

  He scrubs his face and sets tired eyes on me. “No, they’re good.”

  I exhale a heavy breath that releases the tension in my muscles. “What’s going on?”

  “Raven told me what happened.”

  Stomach acid churns, and I clutch the hospital sheet to my chest. “Jonah, I—”

  “Too late. What’s done is done.” He shakes his head and looks out the window to the city lights. “She knew. I told her every day how fucking scared I was at the thought of losing her or Sadie.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “How could she do this?”

  “Jonah, no, it . . .” I swallow my panic and summon the courage to tell him the truth. “She wouldn’t.”

  “But she did.”

  “Because of me.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “She didn’t want to take the Nova. I talked her into it.”

  His eyes slide to mine, and confusion works behind them. “Why would you do that?”

  I fill my lungs with a steadying breath. “The chances of anything happening in that car were so slim. She knew you’d be upset, but she wanted that little taste of freedom again, just like I did.”

  His tortured expression morphs into something terrifying. “I thought you said you didn’t remember.”

  “I didn’t. And now I do.” I drop my chin, unable to hold his glare. “She didn’t want to go. I convinced her.”

  Silence.

  “I wouldn’t let up until she agreed.”

  I give that a moment to sink in and wait for the onslaught of fury that I know is coming.

  But it never does.

  I peek up to see Jonah’s eyes pointed back out the window. “Jonah, I’m sorry. If I could take it back, I—”

  “The worst day of my life was the day we got the call that my dad wasn’t coming home. I remember being sad, really fucking sad.” He blinks and turns toward me. “But what I remember the most is being scared, fucking terrified, because for the first time in my life, I saw the agony in my mom’s face. I remember thinking the pain would rip right through her flesh. She screamed, beat the walls, and crawled like a dying animal as the pain shredded her. I . . .” He leans forward and cradles his head in his hands. “I just want her safe. I need her to be safe. Always.”

  The sting of fresh tears in my wounds blares its agreement. “Me too. I can’t take back what happened, and I understand if you can’t forgive me.” I sag deeper into the bed. “I can’t forgive myself.”

  “You want to blame yourself, I get that. But Raven knew better. Anyway, what’s done is done.” He pushes up from his chair and heads for the door, stopping just before the privacy curtain. “I’m not happy about any of this, but it doesn’t change anything. We’re fami
ly.” He doesn’t look up but continues out of the room.

  I cough on a sob as it makes its way up my throat. How can he say that after all I’ve done? The only explanation is it hasn’t sunk in. Surely once he realizes I almost ripped his wife and daughter from his life, he’ll forbid Raven from having anything to do with me.

  He can’t possibly care enough to see past my offense.

  Can he?

  Thirty-Five

  Eve

  “You have all your shit ready to go?”

  My skin crawls, and I want to turn around and choke Mason with my old IV tubing. “I don’t have shit, Mase. All I have is what I have on.”

  It isn’t even mine. My nurse, Rose, brought me a Target bag filled with yoga pants, tank top, flip flops and a couple different sports bras. I should’ve been a little creeped out that there were even panties in the bag and strangely they were my size, but I’m too angry to be creeped. I just want the fuck out of here.

  It’s only been thirty-six hours, but every hour I’ve had to endure after waking up to no Cameron has been a whirling-fucking-dervish of emotional upheaval. He hasn’t stopped by again, called, nothing. I’d call him, but my phone was snagged by that piece of shit that showed up at my house last night.

  I grip my discharge papers to my chest. “I’m ready.”

  He nods to the wheelchair. “The orderly will be here in any minute to wheel you down. Get in.”

  “No way.”

  “Come on, Eve.” Mason’s pale blue eyes are set on mine. “It’s hospital protocol. You have to.” He’s trying to be cool, but there’s a hint of that anger I saw the last time we were together that still lurks behind his eyes.

  I groan and drop into the stupid thing. “Fine. This is stupid. I’m not a cripple for cryin’ out loud.”

  “Damn, you’re a regular Disney Princess. Now put your feet on the foot things.”

  I do what he says but make sure to slam my feet in so he knows I’m not at all happy about his sarcastic humor or having him push me around in this grown-up stroller.

  As much as I appreciate Jonah working out a ride for me, after my last visit with Mase at The Blackout, I think I’d rather walk.