I shoved him into a wall and said, “Do not yell in front of my mother.”
Dad reached out and shoved me back into the other wall. “She’s my wife, and this is my house and I’ll fucking do as I please.” That was it for me. That flipped the switch that had already been loose. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shoved him so hard into the wall that the plaster cracked.
“You don’t get to be the master of the house any longer. You’re a drunk piece of shit, and we don’t need you.” I shoved him into the crack in the wall and stormed out of the house. There was only one person who could calm me down. I needed to see Ariana.
*****
I picked up Ariana, and we were lying in each other’s arms in an old barn on her father’s property. She knew something was wrong, but I hadn’t told her what. I just told her that I needed her, and she didn’t hesitate to meet me there. Now I was just holding her, not talking. Probably an hour passed before I said anything and when I did it was, “Is it selfish of me to want her to go on living when she’s in so much pain?”
“It’s human,” she said. “You’re not ready to give her up. She’s your mother. That’s human.”
“So what if I’m never ready to give her up?”
“At some point we all have to accept that’s not always up to us. Maybe if you think of it that way, that her pain would finally stop, it won’t be as hard for you to accept when it happens.”
I ran my hand through her soft hair and brushed my lips against the side of her face. “It’s not fair. None of it is fair. It’s only been a year; she was supposed to have two.” I cried as she held me, and it was then that I made the decision that this was something I had to do.
******
When I got home, I sent the nurse on her dinner break and sat next to Mom’s bed again. She had her eyes closed and her breathing was shallow as it had been since she’d started taking the morphine. It was hard to tell sometimes when she was awake or asleep.
“Mom?” She didn’t answer, but when I took her hand in mine, she opened her eyes slowly. It always seemed to take her several seconds to focus lately. When she did, she offered me a weak smile.
“Hi baby.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry about earlier.”
“It’s okay. I know I’m asking way too much. I would do it myself if I could.”
“Shh, Mom. Don’t say that, I’d never let you do that.” I rested my head next to hers on the pillow. I felt her weakly place her lips against my forehead. I knew that I had to do this for her, but I’d never hated anything so badly in my life. When I finally had the strength to pull my head back up and look at her, I said, “You’re sure, Mom? This is what you want?”
She licked her dry lips. “I can’t stand the pain anymore, Tyler. I’m so sorry.” I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it.
“Don’t be sorry, Mom. Don’t be sorry for anything. All you have ever done is take care of everyone else. It’s time I did something for you.”
I laid her frail hand down gently on the bed and got up and went to the cabinet that held her medications. I took out the vial of morphine and held it in my hand. A chill ran through my body as I realized that I was holding my mother’s departure from this life in my hands. I held both my own pain and the relief of hers. I didn’t want to play God, but since He didn’t seem to be doing his job and Dad had proven himself useless once again, I would be forced to do it for them. I took a syringe down off of one of the shelves. I’d given her the medication many times by injecting it into the port she had in her chest. Her poor veins had been stripped from the chemotherapy long before all of her hair had fallen out and her bald little head still held the tattoos and scars of the thirty radiation treatments she’d had to endure.
I put a needle on the syringe and drew the thick liquid into it. I’d researched for hours the effects of a morphine overdose after the day I heard her ask Dad. I knew she would turn to me next. I wanted to make sure it would be a pain-free death for her if I decided to do it. I’d never imagined that I could go through with it, but the pain in her eyes was tearing me apart.
Once the syringe was full I twisted off the needle and dropped it into the sharps container and walked over next to the bed. Her eyes were closed again. I hoped that she was asleep and that she’d wake up and tell me that she’d changed her mind. I knelt down next to her again with the instrument of death in my hand and slid my free hand back into hers. As if she had heard my thoughts, she fluttered her eyes open and said my name.
“I’m here, Mom.”
She was dying, and in excruciating pain, yet again she managed a smile for me. “Where is the nurse?”
“She’s downstairs. I told her to take her dinner break. She’ll be gone for at least an hour.”
She nodded almost imperceptibly and said, “It’s time, my love. You’ve brought me nothing but joy and pride in my life, and I thank the Lord for giving you to me. You’ve always been the strongest one of us. Your father didn’t mean to leave all of this on you…he just wasn’t built to handle it like you were. Please forgive him, Tyler. Please take care of him.”
“I’m only worried about you right now, Mom.”
She smiled again. “I’m so lucky,” she said with tears in her eyes. “Please help your father move past this. He can’t do it on his own.”
“Mom…”
“Let me finish, honey. You and the family business will be all your father has left when I’m gone. Please help him, Tyler. Please help him rebuild it and please forgive him…don’t leave him alone.” She closed her eyes again, and I could see the evidence of the pain as it clouded her face. When she opened them back up, she said, “I can’t fight anymore, honey. I’m so sorry, but it’s time.”
I gently wiped away the tear that had escaped and was rolling down her cheek. “I know, Mom. I’m sorry that I’ve tried so hard to keep you here when you were hurting so badly. It was selfish, but I just don’t know what I’ll do without you.” I felt my own tears begin to well up, as I leaned forward and kissed her paper-thin cheek. She was a shell of the woman she used to be.
“You’ll be a great man,” she said. “That’s what you’ll do. You’ll make me as proud in death as I was in life.”
“I love you so much, Mom. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother.”
“I love you more,” she said with a little smile. It was what she used to always tell me when I was little. “Good-bye my heart.”
I put the syringe into the tube that came out of her chest and pressed down on the plunger. “Good-bye Mom. I love you.” When the syringe was empty, I pulled it out, put the cap back on her tube, and tucked it underneath her. Then I put the syringe in the same container as the needle and knelt back down by the bed. I laid my head down on the pillow next to her once more and listened to her breathe. The tears ran silently from my eyes as I lay there and her breaths became shallower and long, agonizing seconds stretched out in between them. They were agonizing for me anyways as I waited for her to die. It was less than ten minutes later when she slowly pulled in her last breath. I waited for the exhalation, but it didn’t happen and I knew she was gone. My quiet tears turned into deep, heart-wrenching sobs, as I wrapped her up in my arms and held her for the last time.
CHAPTER TEN
TYLER
It was a few days after the accident before I was alert enough to really grasp what had happened. My thoughts were jumbled up in my head, and I wasn’t sure what was real. I knew that I was in the hospital. I remembered that Sam had been there, but not Dad and not Ariana—and I knew why. First, I had killed my own mother, and then Dad threw me out of the house. Then I’d gotten drunk with Brandon, and now Brandon was dead. They probably all hated me. It was all so surreal; I wished that none of it was real.
When I first woke up in the hospital, I had just come out of surgery. I’d had a dislocated shoulder, a broken femur, a few broken ribs, and I’d lost my spleen and had a chest tube for a few days while my punctured lun
g healed. None of that mattered though when I finally got them to tell me what happened to Brandon.
A sheriff deputy came in to talk to me and told me that I had been thrown through the windshield and landed about twelve feet in front of the car on the pavement. That would explain all of the cuts and abrasions on my chest and stomach and arms. Brandon had his seatbelt on. When we impacted the tree, the car had crushed him, killing him instantly. The cop asked if we had been drinking, and I told him honestly, yes. There was a part of me that was hoping they would arrest me, a part of me that needed to be punished for killing my mom and my best friend. The cop said they knew Brandon was driving, and since he was the one that caused the accident, there wouldn’t be any charges brought against me.
“Can you do me a favor?” I asked the cop before he left.
“What’s that?”
“My mother died right before all of this happened. Can you call the mortuary for me and find out when her services are?”
“Sure,” the cop said with a sympathetic look in his eyes. I hated that. I didn’t deserve the man’s sympathy. I didn’t deserve anyone’s sympathy. A little while later, the cop came back and said, “It’s today, son, in a couple of hours.” I started to climb out of the bed. “Whoa, I don’t think they’ve discharged you yet.”
“I’m not missing my mother’s funeral!”
“Okay, stay in the bed for a second and let me get a nurse.” I watched the cop leave and then climbed out of the bed. There wasn’t a spot on or in my body that didn’t hurt, ache, or throb. I could barely hold myself up, as I searched the room for my clothes. I finally found a plastic bag that had the shirt and pants I’d been wearing the day of the accident. I pulled the shirt on over my head and looked down at it. It had holes in it and it was all bloody. I struggled with getting my jeans on because I couldn’t bend over. I had staples in my abdomen and shoulder, stitches in my face and arms and chest. I was a freaking mess…but still better off than Brandon and Mom.
I finally got my pants on and started looking for my shoes when the cop came back in. “I thought you were going to stay put.”
“My mother is dead. I’m going to the funeral.”
“You can’t go looking like that.”
I looked down at myself again. I remembered Dad throwing me out. I couldn’t go by there and change. I picked up the phone at the bedside and dialed in Sam’s number. When Sam answered, I said, “Man, I need a huge favor.”
*****
I found out from Sam that Brandon was being buried that afternoon as well, two hours after Mom. The parish was so small that they were being eulogized and buried both in the same place. By the time Sam brought me some decent, clean clothes and I showered and got back to town, I was too late for Mom’s church services. I got to the graveyard as the pastor was speaking. There were a lot of people there, and I stood in the back where I wouldn’t have to endure their stares, or worse yet, my father’s rage again. I knew that most of those people would be attending Brandon’s burial as well. His church services should be over soon, and they would bring his body out. I thought about Ariana. What must she be going through? What must she think of me? It suddenly dawned on me that I was in the hospital for three days and she never came. Her brother was dead and that was horrible…but wouldn’t she have come to see me if she knew that I was hurt? Jesus…what if she never wanted to see me again?
As Mom’s services came to an end and people lined up to file past the coffin and wish Dad well, Brandon’s family arrived for his burial. I didn’t see any of them at first. My eyes and mind were focused on the box they were going to seal my mother into the ground in. I just felt something on my arm all of a sudden, and I turned around. It was Ariana. I felt relief, until I saw the fire in her eyes.
“What happened, Tyler? Why was Brandon driving your car? Why was he drinking and driving? He never did that. Zoe said when she left him at Sam’s, he was completely sober.”
My head was still fuzzy about the details. I wasn’t sure where to start. I tried by saying, “My mother died…”
Ariana’s face softened. “I know. I’m so sorry for your loss. But Tyler, my family is devastated, and we need answers.”
“We don’t need any answers! Right here is your answer!” Ariana’s mother had arrived. “I told Brandon—and I told you too, Ariana—he’s bad. I told you both he would get you into trouble. I had no idea he’d kill your brother, my only son!”
I was looking at the two women, feeling like I was in a state of shock. Ariana’s eyes were accusing, and her mother’s were full of venom. Meanwhile, my own mother lay dead four feet away. Nothing could be worse than this.
“Mrs. Douglas…I’m so sorry about Brandon.”
She gritted her teeth and reached out like she was going to slap me. Ariana put her hand on her mother’s arm and stopped her. “I hate you. You should have died and not my son!” she spat out. I looked at Ariana again and wondered if she felt the same. She was still looking at me, but I couldn’t read her thoughts. I looked over towards my mother’s grave again, this time locking eyes with Dad. His eyes told me exactly what he was thinking. I’d never been in a place before where so many people despised me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, as I backed away. I walked as quickly as I could across the grass of the cemetery. I could hear Ariana and Dad yelling my name. There was nothing more they could say to me that I wasn’t saying to myself. I’d single-handedly destroyed two families in the space of three days. I had to get out of there and go where I wasn’t able to hurt anyone I loved ever again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SEVENTEEN YEARS LATER
TYLER
Mortar fire was so common that my teammates and I hardly even noticed it anymore…but that morning it was different. They were the last ones left in the Helmand Providence, Afghanistan. The Marines had just pulled out, and Special Ops was scheduled to pull out the following day. The war was over…or so they said. The insurgents hadn’t let up on their mortar fire, but it was so non-lethal that sometimes it was even laughable. That morning, I woke to the sound of it hitting close to the barracks. My feet were on the floor, and I was slipping into my boots next to my buddy Two-Finger Mac who slept on the bottom bunk. We were both wide-awake and ready to move in seconds.
“What the hell?” Mac asked me, like maybe I’d thrown the mortar.
“Hell if I know” was my standard reply to most of Mac’s questions.
We were pulling our gun straps across our shoulders when the second round hit. That one was a lot closer, too close, and even more unusual was that normally the insurgents were one-hit wonders. The third followed it almost immediately and shook the barracks like a massive quake.
“Shit!” Freddie hollered out again before I heard the sounds of gunshots outside. We headed for the door, but before we made it, there was an actual explosion. The lights went out, and we were both propelled backwards as smoke instantly filled the room. I landed on my back but immediately rolled onto my stomach. It was the position we were trained to take. Legs crossed and hands over my ears to save what hearing I could. The barracks were filled with the sounds of coughing and hacking. I couldn’t see anything except for the smoke that filled the room. I made a near fatal mistake by holding my head up and sucking in a deep breath. Whatever was in the air set my lungs on fire. My eyes were burning too and watering so badly that I could barely keep them open. It was a chemical bomb!
Over the sounds of coughing, I yelled out to my men, “Everyone okay?”
I tried to listen for the sounds of all of my team. There were only eight of us. We were one of two teams left. The other had gone into town before the sun had come up on foot patrol, so I knew we had to account for eight that morning. I heard Hawk and Grayson yell out in the affirmative, followed by a wheeze and a hack. A few seconds later came Stitch, Lane and Colfax. Then there was silence. “Timber! Mac!” the coughing continued and as my heart raced into a panic I tried talking myself down. They just can’t talk, they’r
e coughing. Louder this time with my lungs searing in my chest I said, “Mac! Timber! Damn it! Are you okay?”
A few feet from me I heard a gurgle. As I was dropping to my knees I heard Mac call out behind me, “I’m okay, Staff Sergeant.”
“Timber?” I could barely make out his silhouette. I used my hands to feel along his face and chest like a blind man until I felt the thick rush of warm blood bubbling up out of his chest. I felt sick to my stomach even as I said, “Hang on, Timber. We’re going to get you out of here.” My own voice was unrecognizable. My throat was like raw meat.
“All due respect, Staff Sergeant,” the sound of my second-in-command, Colfax, floated in with the smoke from the east side of the barracks. “We gonna stay in bed all day?”
As loudly as I was able to manage it, I yelled at my men to get out. I could hear them shuffling and moving as they did. A pair of boots stopped next to me, and I knew they were Mac’s before I looked up. “Top or bottom?” was all Mac said.
“I got the top,” I told him. I grabbed Timber underneath his arms and Mac scooped up his legs. Timber was six foot five and had to weigh close to three hundred pounds in his equipment, but we weren’t leaving him there.
As we got closer to the door, I could hear the sounds of rapid gunfire. I looked at Mac as soon as we hit daylight, and without another word, we both crouched down low, holding Timber only a foot or less off the ground as debris from the building and gunshots rained down onto all of our heads. The air outside wasn’t much better than inside. I decided that it must have been a suicide bomber with a truck filled with chlorine. Sneaky bastards. The rest of my men covered us, firing off shots of their own until we reached the man-made barrier along the edge of the base. We laid Timber down in the mud and called for transport. I knelt down next to him, and that was when I realized Timber was already gone. I didn’t have time to mourn him, but I offered him what respect I could by moving his body further down into the pit where it wouldn’t be tramped or fired on. Then I pressed my gun into my shoulder and began firing toward whatever was firing at us. I still couldn’t see anything though, we needed to get higher, above all this smoke.
TYLER (Blake Security Book 2) Page 6