Falling Hard

by J. K. Coi

  A whoosh of noise.

  Gabriel quickly glanced left and then right, but David reacted first and threw his body in front of him. He tried pushing them both back inside the building, but the door had already swung closed—and locked.

  The car that was supposed to pick them up was indeed parked and waiting, but the windshield had been smashed and, inside, Gabriel’s long-time driver was covered in blood, his eyes held open in a sightless stare.

  “Oh, God,” David moaned as he too searched the dark shadows of the car. “Oh, hell no. Gabriel. That’s Larry. He’s dead.”

  One minute there was nothing but darkness and devastation, and the next a figure took shape within the shadows. A figure that rushed them both so quickly Gabriel barely had time to move.

  He took a blow to the cheekbone that rocked his head back into the hard brick wall of the building. Stars exploded behind his eyes. Grunting against the pain, he blinked them away and grabbed David. He tried to shove his friend down to the dirty asphalt so they could crawl behind the car. The stubborn idiot resisted, recklessly insisting on pushing himself in front of Gabriel just as a thin beam of moonlight bounced off a razor-edged length of steel slicing toward them.

  The blade whistled in the air before meeting flesh. Not his.

  Gabriel yelled as David’s body slumped forward and his head hit the pavement with a hard smack.

  Blood. Holy shit, immediately there was blood everywhere. On David’s clothes and face. Trickling from the corner of his mouth and spilling from the deep gash across his throat to the ground, over the glittering broken glass from the limousine’s windshield.

  “Oh no, David. Ah, Jesus.” Looking up, Gabriel tried to pinpoint who had jumped them, but saw only indistinct shapes, like looking through thick lenses tinted red and black.

  Lunging toward the fuzzy figure, Gabriel put himself between his friend’s body and their attacker, all the while swearing a blue streak and praying silently but desperately for David’s life. He sought to look his enemy in the eye, but the bastard wore a heavily cowled black cloak and, when combined with the shadows of the darkened alley, was having no problem keeping his face covered.

  “Bastard. Show yourself, damn you,” Gabriel growled. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

  “No. You won’t.” The man’s slow, deep voice echoed. “But you are welcome to try.”

  Gabriel shook his head to clear it of the unwelcome, almost musical cadence that melted into his brain like a cloud of doped-up smoke.

  “Fuck you.” Gabriel gritted his teeth. Although it had been years, he’d been in enough street fights during his less-than-stellar past. His fist instinctively clenched tight and his quick, hard jab landed true.

  He hit the guy again fast, before the shadowy attacker retaliated. Trouble was his fists weren’t having any measurable effect. The guy didn’t go down. Didn’t so much as flinch.

  And his next shot didn’t even connect. As if he’d been toying with Gabriel up to this point, the faceless spook raised his free arm in a block and aimed the bloody sword in his other hand at Gabriel’s chest.

  Just enough time to twist sharply to the right, but the blade still slid into Gabriel’s midsection. All too easily. Agony flared as the length of steel scraped his rib before passing through. He cried out when the weapon was yanked back out again, impotent rage a thick sludge that pounded in his veins.

  Falling to his knees, he pressed a fist into the wound, taking ragged breaths. Pain spiked in his side, a hundred times worse than any runner’s stitch. Deep red blood had already spilled over his hand and spread across his white shirt. He couldn’t stop it. It ran down into the waistband of his jeans. He could feel it, warm and wet and sticky.

  He struggled to stay upright, to protect David. Black ink spots swam in front of his eyes, but he could still see the dark figure poised over him, ready to strike another, this time final, blow.

  His life’s blood flowing between his fingers, Gabriel found it hard to imagine that less than five minutes ago he’d been teasing David and making plans to spend a lazy week hanging out with him and Lila before settling in to get started on the new album.

  Oh God, David.

  As Gabriel’s eyelids drooped a little more, he whispered an apology, one he feared his friend couldn’t hear.

  Just then a rustling sounded from somewhere close, but he couldn’t tell whether it came from in front or behind. Gabriel forced his eyes back open in time to catch sight of another figure landing between him and his attacker, as if falling from directly above.

  Warmth bathed his upturned face and it took him a moment to realize it wasn’t blood splashing across his skin. A woman stood with her back to him. Blond hair fell to her shoulders. While his vision was spotty and blurred, he couldn’t mistake the bright glow that surrounded her, a visible aura of white light extending outward and enfolding him in its sphere. Awestruck, he held his breath.

  She looked over her shoulder, big blue eyes examining him with a taciturn expression.

  Blue eyes. Blond hair.

  Gabriel’s mouth opened and closed as he fought to call out a warning, but the words came as a harsh groan of pain. Struggling through the nausea and dizziness, he reached for her, trying to grab her and pull her back, but she shrugged off his hand as if he were a nuisance getting in her way.

  The last of his strength bled away. Gabriel’s final image before consciousness deserted him was of a golden warrior goddess dressed in silver armor and bathed in light, brandishing a gleaming sword in his defense as great white wings spread out from her shoulder blades—

  Angel wings.

  But that was impossible…

  Chapter Two

  Gabriel woke, knowing before he opened his eyes that he was in a hospital bed. There was no mistaking the beeping of the monitors, the smells that assailed him, turning his stomach, or the feel of an IV stuck in his hand.

  His crusty eyelids cracked open and lifted very slowly. He waited a few moments for his eyesight to adjust to the darkened room and tried to remember what had happened.

  The alley. An attacker garbed in shadows. Too much blood.

  David.

  The memories came crashing in on him as he saw his best friend’s slack, bloodied face in his mind. He choked out a hoarse cry.

  Needing to find David, Gabriel struggled to sit so his next move could be a careful reach for the call button, but that was easier said than done. His head pounded so hard, echoing the harsh beat of his heart. He felt like he was going to throw up.

  “Don’t move. You’ll tear the stitches.”

  Having believed himself alone, Gabriel started at the sound of a woman’s soft, lilting voice. He turned and groaned at the sharp pain that stabbed him in the side, falling back into the pancake-flat hospital pillows with a muttered curse.

  She was sitting in a chair beside his bed. Her features were masked by the dark of the room, but he could make out the light color of her shoulder-length hair. He’d bet his three platinum records it glowed a pale blond under stage lights.

  “Who—” His dry lips cracked and his parched throat hurt. Swallowing carefully, he tried again. “Who are you?”

  What was she doing here? Digging his elbow into the mattress, he pushed himself up again, trying once more to sit. The pain rocked him and he felt his eyes roll up in his head. Taking deep breaths, he waited for it to pass but it didn’t seem to want to go anywhere.

  She approached his side and, placing one hand on his shoulder, reached over to a panel of buttons along the side arm of the hospital bed.

  Her scent took him off guard. Spicy and sweet. Intoxicating but casual—the most dedicated virgin and the most celebrated siren wrapped up in one deceptive little package. Gabriel doubted anyone could harness and bottle a perfume that would have the same effect as she immediately had on him. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, bringing to mind images of quiet moonlit bays, reeds knocking together in a soft breeze, and millions of twinkling
stars reflected in a rippling pool. At the same time, it made him think of glistening naked bodies entwined, hot and sweaty, sliding against each other…

  As she leaned farther over him and pushed the button to lift the head of his bed, Gabriel became aware of more. The indent of her slim waist pressing into the mattress, her sleekly muscled arms and fine-boned wrists. If he were standing beside her, he doubted the top of her head would reach his sternum. She was a tiny one.

  The bed started to move. By the time he was lying half upright with his legs stretched out in front of him, Gabriel’s side screamed in protest. He hissed and reached for her hand to stop her from lifting the bed any higher. The calm look on her face didn’t change as she slowly straightened away from him.

  “Are you in pain?” Her soft whisper soothed him.

  He was surprised how much energy simply sitting up had taken, leaving him short of breath and feeling weak as a newborn babe. Wondering how badly David had been hurt, he could only nod. She lifted a hard plastic control box from the mattress. It was attached to a wire that fed under his arm, and he assumed it was connected to a medicinal console. He wanted to tell her to drop it, he’d rather the pain than the drugs, but the words wouldn’t come.

  A click sounded as she depressed a button and, sure enough, within moments he felt the fuzzy rush of morphine entering his system. A sickly familiar sensation he’d hoped never to experience again.

  “Are you going…to answer…me?” He fought through the haze, pushing aside the guilt and self-loathing. It wouldn’t help him now. “Who the hell…are you?” His voice sounded muddled and rough, as though the insides of his throat had been left to bake in the sun. His tongue felt thick and his eyes grew heavy—the damn drugs were quick.

  The woman continued to ignore him, acting for all the world as if she hadn’t heard him speak. Exactly what was going on here? Who was she?

  Inching back, she returned to her spot in the chair beside his bed. Gabriel sighed. So tired. He wished the light was better. He wanted to see her more clearly. There was something he was missing. Something more he should remember about…all of this. But he could barely keep his eyes open.

  He lay still for a few tense minutes, trying to hold on to the crazy thoughts and images flitting in and out of his head, but the drugs had him now and he knew he’d be out of it for the next few hours.

  The beautiful mystery woman got up again and went to the door. He tried calling her back, but the words tripped over his thickened tongue. Then she was gone, having slipped out of the room.

  A slim brown-haired woman dressed in crisp nursing whites quickly appeared, taking the place of his cool, silent guardian angel.

  His angel.

  When Gabriel stirred again, daytime sunshine warmed his cheeks. He opened his eyes—much easier this time—and was rewarded with only a slight throbbing in his temples instead of the violent, brain-leaking headache of before.

  The lamps were still off. Light filtered into the room through the cracks made by unevenly spaced vertical blinds hanging over the large window.

  Gabriel turned his head, looking for his soft, beautiful angel. Instead, he found someone else clocking time in the hospital chair beside his bed.

  With a groan and a scowl, he swallowed. “That’s one hell of a face to be waking up to.” His voice came out as a broken croak, and he tried to clear his throat.

  Sam—his shaggy head tilted back against the rear of the chair—opened his eyes and looked at him with a thin smile. Dark circles shadowed his pale, freckled face. “Hey, dumbass,” he mumbled sleepily. “Nice to see you awake, man. How do you feel?”

  Pressing a hand delicately to his side, Gabriel winced. His girl must have been a dream. “Like I got bashed over the head and stabbed in the ribs by a psychopath.”

  “Considering that’s exactly what happened…Jesus, Gabe. If we hadn’t gone off without you that night—”

  He shook his head. “Bullshit. Don’t do that to yourself, Sammy.” The two of them had known each other since they were unruly troublemaking teens, and Gabriel understood what was going through his friend’s head. Sam had always been the serious one, the most responsible of them. He wouldn’t think twice about taking on the blame for not being there, but Gabriel couldn’t let him do it. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I—” A shadow passed over Sam’s face. He took a deep breath and stood. “I better go get the bloody doctor and the nurse. They all insisted on knowing the minute you were coherent again.”

  “Wait. First, tell me how David’s doing. I need to see him. He took a pretty hard clip from whoever it was that jumped us.”

  Sam paused. He sat back down and dropped his head into his hands with a heavy sigh.

  No.

  Gabriel’s jaw tightened and his hands clenched into fists. He clamped his teeth together as he fought the shout that crawled up his throat.

  No. No. No.

  When Sam finally looked at him again, tears glistened in his eyes. “Shit, Gabe. He—I’m so sorry. He was dead before the ambulance could get you guys to the hospital.”

  “No. Ah. No. That’s not…he can’t—”

  Sam’s expression didn’t change.

  Dead. Just like that, one of his closest friends was gone forever through an act of senseless violence.

  The scream stuck in his throat. He struggled to swallow it back, but it remained lodged there, a thick ball of guilt and pain. Oh, no. “Lila?”

  Sam shook his head. “God, she’s devastated. Her doctor had to put her on some pretty heavy meds to keep her calm enough to get through the funeral today. Remmie and Jackson went home with David’s body. They’re in Chicago now to be with her, lending a hand as much as they can and helping her take care of little Tony.”

  David’s son would never know his father—a man who’d been so grateful for the gift of a child, he’d broken down and cried on Gabriel’s shoulder the night of Tony’s birth.

  “The funeral is today?” He had to be there. Instead he was in the goddamn hospital.

  “Yeah, Gabe. I’m sorry. Lila’s in-laws planned everything. We tried to get them to hold off until you could make it, but your wound became infected and you tossed in and out of consciousness for so long, a little under a week…Finally, they had to get it done, you know?”

  A lead blanket of guilt and sorrow settled over Gabriel’s chest, so heavy it physically hurt. He nodded. “Sure. Of course, I know.” Goddamn. “And Larry’s funeral?”

  “It was a few days ago. I made the drive out to be with his mum.” He pointed to the ledge beneath the hospital room window, which was covered in bouquets and balloons. “She sent some flowers and wants you to know she’s praying for you.”

  Sam stood again. He was at the door when Gabriel stopped him once more. “By the way, where’s the girl?”

  “Girl? Oh, do you mean from that night? Ms. White? Amelia?”

  Amelia White? That’s her name?

  Not a dream. “Yeah, the blonde from the concert. The one I saw behind the curtain. I think she was also in the alley when we were attacked. I think she…” Bright blue eyes. White light. Glowing all over. “I think she saved my life.”

  “No doubt about it, dude,” he replied with a nod. “You’re damn lucky she found you when she did. For some reason the security recording from the camera at the rear entrance of the club went all wonky and snowy right around the time you and David were attacked. It picked up the two of you being struck down by the bastard in the alley, then nothing. When the manager came outside a few minutes later to go home, he said he found Amelia kneeling on the ground at your side. He called the police and an ambulance, and here you are.”

  Wings. Soft. White. Large, feathered angel wings.

  Jesus, just how hard had that blow to the head been? “Amelia, was she here? In the hospital, I mean?” He hadn’t imagined that part too, had he?

  “Yes, she’s around here somewhere. She hasn’t gone far since the ambulance brought you in. The police
took a statement from her, and she’s been standing guard at your door ever since, making everyone think we’ve got the president locked up in this room or some shit.”

  “Where did she come from?”

  “She says she was part of the security detail for the concert, although we couldn’t find her name on the official list. Not many people remember seeing her there. Except for you.”

  Yes, Gabriel remembered her. “And nobody finds that odd?”

  “It was a large venue, and the manager vouched for her. You and I both know these things don’t always run smoothly.” Sam shrugged but there was an underlying anger to his expression, because they both knew the consequences of a poorly run show had been too high this time. Much too high.

  “Okay, but what’s she still doing hanging around?”

  “It’s my guess the conveners are worried about being sued—and they damn well should be shitting their pants—so they might have hired her to stick around and keep an eye on you to make sure nothing else happens.”

  “Did they get the guy?”

  “No, man, I’m sorry. Now that you’re awake, though, the police are going to start harassing you with their questions too. Hopefully, you’ll be able to give them something more to work with. This guy—whoever he is—seems to have vanished into thin air like he never existed in the first place.”

  Gabriel sighed, feeling exhausted again already. He dropped his head back into the pillow, his eyes closing under their own magnified weight. “Sam?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Call Lila and tell her I’ll be there as soon as I get out of this shithole.”

  Sam paused. “Sure. Of course.”

  Gabriel suffered being poked and prodded for the next few hours.

  As the doctor ripped the blood pressure monitor from his arm and finally confirmed he would be fine after a few more days of rest, the attending nurse turned to Gabriel with a perky smile. “Good as new in no time at all. As long as you aren’t planning on getting jumped in any more dark alleys,” she scolded, as if he were an unruly teen caught playing a prank that had backfired on him.