Fighting the Fall

by J. B. Salsbury

  I drop my chin to my chest, and a desperate groan falls from my lips. “You sure you can handle it?”

  She steps closer and dips her head to meet my eyes. “I’m sure.”

  My heart beats frantically and I’m terrified. I roll my head back, my thoughts vacant except for five little words that are my confession.

  “I took my daughter’s life.”

  Forty

  Cameron

  Eve’s face drains of color. Her lips part and tears swell in her eyes. A myriad of emotions flashes in her eyes.

  Shock. Disappointment. And finally disgust.

  “You still think you’re strong enough to hold on?”

  She stumbles back, and her hand slips from my arm. Her head swivels from side to side in a slow shake that won’t do anything to erase my confession. This I’m sure of because I’ve done it myself more times than I can count.

  She swallows hard. “No.”

  I drop my chin to my chest, unable to hold her gaze when all I see in it is my failure. “You get the information you needed?”

  “I . . . How?”

  “Does it really matter?” I rub my eyes with my forefinger and thumb. “She’s gone because of me.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” she whispers. “I . . .”

  “Good night, Eve.” I can’t bear to look at her, but I hear the shuffling of her feet as she leaves the room.

  And closes the door behind her.

  ~*~

  Eve

  I move numbly down the hallway to the living room, lost in my thoughts, sorting through my feelings. I expected a thousand different stories, but never did I imagine the truth would be so hideous.

  I took my daughter’s life.

  His confession rings through my head, the desperation, sadness, guilt and agony, all so evident in his voice. If only—

  “Eve.”

  I jump at the sound of Ryder’s voice. He’s leaning against the couch, shrouded in the dark of the living room.

  “I’m, ah”—I fumble to pull up the right words, to think clearly—“sorry for waking you up.”

  He closes the space between us, his eyes narrowed on my face. “You okay?”

  “Am I?” I rub my forehead, pushing my bangs back. “I think so. I just found out about . . .”

  “Ah. So Dad finally opened up, huh?”

  I jerk my eyes to his. “Um . . .”

  “About Rosie?”

  “Rosie.” Her name. His sister. My heart cramps for the pain he must feel at her memory. “Yeah, I guess he did. I’m . . . I had no idea.”

  “Yeah, he doesn’t like to talk about the accident.” He shrugs and crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t really see what the big deal is. I mean it happened; can’t hide that shit, ya know?”

  I cringe at the easygoing way he speaks about his sister’s death at the hands of his own father, even if it was an accident. “How, uh, how long ago did she die?”

  His eyebrows drop low over his eyes. “Hmm.” He looks down the hallway toward Cameron’s bedroom then swings his eyes back to me. “You got any plans right now?”

  I shake my head. “It’s almost two a.m.”

  “Right. Let me grab my shoes. You drive.”

  I watch him disappear down the hallway and into his room. Drive? Where the hell are we going? Not that it matters. I’ve got nowhere else to be, and after Cameron’s confession, I’ll get no sleep with all the questions filtering through my mind. And something tells me Ryder has all the answers.

  ~*~

  Cameron

  It’s the middle of the day and my concentration’s for shit. After Eve’s visit last night, I’ve gone back and forth between showing up at her door and throwing myself at her mercy or locking myself up in a padded room. The more she knows about me and the further away she runs, the more I want to chase her down and keep her forever.

  I flip through my notebook again, absently taking in the list of to-dos and don’t-forgets, but only see her face, fear working behind those big blue eyes. A kind of fear I’ve never seen on the strong woman I’ve come to care for. The resilient woman I’ve come to love.

  A knock sounds on my office door. “Come in.”

  Killer mopes in, his eyes downcast. “Hey, Mr. Kyle.”

  “Killian, what’s up?”

  It isn’t until he gets closer that I realize he’s not just looking down, but he’s trying to hide his face behind long shags of hair. He takes a seat and keeps his head down, but that doesn’t keep me from seeing the color on his cheek.

  “Whoa, what the fuck happened to you?”

  His shoulders slump, and he lifts his chin to reveal a black eye and pretty decent knot on his forehead. “I probably should’ve come to talk to you sooner, but . . .”

  My muscles tense. “Who the fuck did this to you?”

  “Thinkin’ you already know who.” He swallows and avoids my eyes. “I overheard Reece and some of his guys blabbing a few months ago. They were talking shit about the UFL and how they were only here for a little while until they”—he motions with air quotes—“get what they need.”

  “This back when they started fucking with you?”

  “I tried to talk to them about it, ya know, get them to see things my way? These guys, Reece and his friends, they don’t respect the century-old fundamentals of MMA. To them, this UFL stuff isn’t a sport. It’s, I don’t know, a way to become famous by beating people up.”

  Damn, I seriously dig where this kid’s mind is at. “So you confronted them.”

  “Yeah, I told them they need to have more respect for the organization or go fight for someone else.”

  “Shit, Killer. They’re bullying you because you’re defending their sport.” I grind my teeth and withhold the rapid-fire curse words itching to be released.

  “They got pissed I’d heard whatever it is I heard.” He scratches his head. “I don’t even know what they were talking about, but ever since then, they’ve been threatening me, roughing me up if I talk.”

  “So they’re only here to get what they need. What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I didn’t come talk to you sooner. I thought once they realized I didn’t hear shit they’d back off.”

  “But they didn’t.” I motion to his face.

  “I walked into the locker room, and they were in there with a camera, like the handheld video kind?”

  I nod.

  “I told them they can’t have that in there, UFL rules, and I don’t know . . . They snapped.”

  What the fuck were they doing in there with a camera, and why would being reminded of league rules cause them to beat the shit out of an eighteen-year-old boy?

  “Makes me wonder what’s on that camera.” I scratch down a reminder in my notebook to call in Reece and the boys for a little talk and then let them all out of their contracts effective immediately.

  “No clue. Lopez took off and ran with it right after he finished videotaping.”

  My eyes snap to his. “He recorded the beating?”

  Killer’s forehead drops again. “Yeah.”

  As if an ass kicking isn’t enough, but they insist on humiliating the poor kid too? I’m fed up and ready to put an end to this shit.

  I hit the intercom on my phone. “Layla, get Reece and Lopez in my office now.”

  A soft knock on my door and Layla steps in with her eyes trained on a post-it note in her hand. “Vanessa gave this to me. It’s a message, but”—she hands me the little yellow note—“it’s kinda vague, not that I’m surprised.” Her eyes roll to the ceiling. “Vanessa’s as helpful as an STD.”

  In bold handwritten letters, the note says “URGENT” and below it is an address. It takes a quick scan of the address for me to know exactly who the note is about. I’m on my feet and fishing my keys out of my pocket before I make it to the door of my office.

  “Give me an hour,” I call over my shoulder to Killer and Layla as I move down the hallway.

  My
pulse throbs in my veins, is audible in my ears, and makes my heart race. There’s only one reason I’d be called to the nursing home, and God . . .

  I’m not ready to lose her.

  Forty-One

  Cameron

  My tires squeal as I pull into the parking lot of the Horizon Care Facility. Adrenaline fuels my muscles, and I sprint through the lot then squeeze through the sliding glass doors before they’re fully open. The sterile scent of the place turns my stomach and worry dampens my palms.

  Pam, who works the front desk, looks up with wide eyes. “Can I help—Oh, Mr. Kyle.”

  “Yeah, hey . . .”

  “We didn’t expect you ’til Sunday.” Her easy smile doesn’t communicate anything close to urgency.

  “I got your message.” I lean over to peer down the hallway. “Is she okay?”

  “Message?” She looks around her desk as if the answer is lying around haphazardly on some scrap of paper.

  “It said ‘urgent.’” I scour the area for any sign of disruption, my pulse pounding.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t see anything here about an urgent message.”

  “I received a message with this address.”

  “Oh, well it wasn’t from us. Rosie’s just fine.”

  I hear her words, but they don’t calm the fears. “I’d like to see her.”

  “Yes, of course.” A soft smile curves her lips. “Rosie’s very popular today. I’ll take you back.”

  Popular? I move around the circular desk to a door that leads to a long hallway: a hallway I’ve walked a million times, but today seems different somehow. Maybe it’s the leftover panic that still has my muscles twitching.

  I follow Pam to the door with a nameplate on it that says “Rosie” in script. “So you didn’t leave a message with my secretary today?”

  She shakes her head. “No, but I might have an idea who did.” She dips her forehead toward the square window in the door.

  My mind whirls and my gut tightens. I step up to the closed door and peek in through the window.

  The air around me stills along with my lungs. My daughter, smaller than the average eighteen-year-old, sits in her chair, head and legs locked into place by soft straps.

  But she’s not alone.

  Eve.

  Emotion clogs my throat, and I force myself to swallow. She’s in a chair, leaning forward so that her long hair veils most of her face. She has one of Rosie’s hands between her own, and she’s talking.

  My eyes track movement on the other side of the room. I look over to find Ryder, his eyes on mine through the window, and a pleased smile on his face.

  Without the conscious decision to do so, I push open the door and move into the room.

  Eve’s head swivels toward me. Her big blue eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, cheeks painted with tears. “I didn’t know.”

  “Now you do.” It’s all I can say, the only thing I can get out before I brace for her reaction: her disappointment, anger, revulsion that because of me my daughter’s living out her life brain dead in a hospital. All because of me.

  Eve turns sad eyes back to Rosie. “She’s beautiful, just like her mom.”

  I nod, even though she can’t see me, not trusting my voice.

  She holds Rosie’s curled-up hand, rubbing comforting circles on her knuckles, and the visual threatens to drop me. I look away and blink as my eyes focus on my son.

  “Hey, Dad.” Ryder plops down on Rosie’s bed, hands behind his head. “So I take it you got my message, huh?”

  I dip my chin toward Eve. “You do this?”

  He shrugs one shoulder. “It was time. Rosie and I were sick of watching you fall apart, so we took matters into our own hands.” He looks at his twin sister. “Ain’t that right, Rose?”

  “We? You haven’t been here in—”

  “Guess my secret’s out too.” Ryder steps closer to whisper. “Just because I haven’t been coming with you doesn’t mean I haven’t been coming.”

  Pride floods my chest with warmth. Here I thought he’d been abandoning his sister, but instead he’s been forging his own relationship with her. “How long?”

  “Couple months. I stopped coming with you and I missed her. I decided to come visit, and I liked it better being alone with her. When I used to come with you, it was so depressing.”

  “Sorry, son.” I rake a hand through my hair. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

  “Nothing to say.” He says it in such a casual way I have to wonder how I didn’t see this before.

  I turn my attention to my daughter. Eve moves away from her spot to give me room.

  “Hey, baby girl.” I lean in and press a kiss to her forehead before taking the seat that Eve just vacated. “Busy day, huh?”

  I watch for a reaction, a flicker of her eyelids, twitch of her lips, but get nothing. Her deep blue eyes stare blankly at me.

  I notice a picture lying on her lap. “What’s this?” I pick it up. It’s of me, Eve, and Ryder from the night Ataxia played at The Blackout. “Your brother bring you this?”

  “It’s a great picture,” Eve says in a soft way that gets my eyes.

  I get lost for a moment at the tenderness I see in her expression.

  “One of my favorites, although”—she reaches to a framed picture on the table next to her—“this one is the best.”

  I take the frame from her, and an instant smile pulls at my lips upon viewing the image of Ryder and Rosie just weeks before she drowned. They’re eating popsicles in the backyard, both of them with bright purple lips and sticky sweet dripping off their chins. Messy blond hair and sun-kissed toddler cheeks.

  “That was a good day.” My voice cracks with the memory.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I shake my head. “I guess the same reason you lied about your age. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

  She steps close, and I exhale hard with the soothing warmth of her hand on my shoulder. “I could never hate you. It was a mistake, Cameron.”

  “A mistake that cost her . . .” I swallow the lump forming in my throat and pull Rosie’s hand to my lips to kiss each one of her knuckles. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.”

  Still no response from Rosie, but the telltale sniff of silent tears from Eve shoots straight to my chest.

  I turn my head. “Now you know. It’s because of me she’s locked inside a body she can’t control. She’ll never have a life outside of this facility, and if all plays out the way it seems like it’s going to, she’ll die in here—”

  “Shhh.” Eve wipes her eyes and stands next to Rosie. “She can hear you.”

  “We don’t know what she can hear.”

  Her glistening eyes snap to mine. “I know she can hear you.”

  “Eve, there’s no way to know that. She’s no longer responding.”

  “She responds to me.” Her words seem to reverberate through the room.

  “What?”

  “It’s true, Dad.” Ryder sounds off from his place on the bed. “We’ve been here for hours, and a couple times she responded to us. It’s subtle, but it’s something.”

  “You’ve been here for hours?” I look between Ryder and Eve.

  “We’ve been in here with her since before the sun came up.”

  I look between Eve and Rosie. “Can you show me?”

  Eve nods and walks around to the front of Rosie’s chair. She bends at the waist and brings Rosie’s hand to her cheek. “Hey, Rosie. Do you remember me?”

  Rosie’s eyes stay fixed on nothing across the room.

  “You know your dad here thinks you won’t respond. I don’t know about you, but I really enjoy proving him wrong. What do you say? Can you help a sister out?”

  Still nothing.

  Unease churns in my gut. “Eve, it’s okay—”

  “No, we’re not giving up.” She cups my daughter’s jaw with one hand. “Are we Rosie? Come on. Look at me. I’m right here.”

  Rosie’s eyes shift toward Eve ever
so slightly.

  “Yeah, there it is!” Eve’s high-pitched voice is filled with pride. “Hey, pretty girl.”

  “Holy shit. You did it.” I stand and place a kiss on my daughter’s forehead.

  “I told you.” The triumph in Eve’s voice is contagious and sends shock waves of excitement through my body.

  “I’m proud of you, baby.” I smooth Rosie’s short blond hair. “You’re so smart.”

  “She’s amazing, Cameron.” Eve leans into my side.

  The door bursts open, and D’lilah comes rushing inside. “Is she okay? What happened, is she—oh!” Her eyes take in everyone in the room. “What’s everyone doing here?”

  I catch Ryder trying to hide a grin behind the back of his hand.

  “Yeah, she’s fine.” I nod to my son. “Ry, you mind filling your mom in before you give her a heart attack?”

  “Don’t mind if I do, Dad.” He steps forward and clears his throat. “Rosie’s fine. I left the urgent messages with you guys.”

  D’lilah’s hand on her heart, she blows out several breaths. “Ryder, you scared me to death.”

  “Drastic times. Here’s the thing. I’ve been watching you all dance around each other for months. Been watching Mom slowly kill herself for years. Figured it was time we had a family meeting.”

  “But—”

  Ryder holds his hand up to D’lilah. “Before you say anything, Mom, let me say that Eve is going to be part of our family eventually”—he fixes his eyes on mine—“as soon as Dad pulls his head out of his ass.”

  Eve snort-giggles at my side.

  “Eve, you love my dad. Dad, you love Eve.” He looks at his mom. “Mom, you’ve been sober now for a little while, and I know you love me. I don’t need a mom, but Rosie does. She needs all the love she can get, and I’ll be busy with college. It’s time you guys stop living in your mistakes and start looking forward.”

  “How’d he get so smart?” Eve grins up at me.

  I shake my head. “No fucking idea.”

  D’lilah slides her gaze from Ryder to Rosie. Her eyes fill up with tears. “She’s grown since the last time I saw her.” She wraps her arms around her stomach.