I know I should be searching, chasing, freaking the fuck out over Abby leaving the coffee shop upset and I am…well freaking out anyway, but I don’t have that right. I have no business being with her. She’s way out of my fucking league. It is what it is.
I’ve done shit the devil would cringe away from. I have guilt in every hair of my body. The war I am fighting is an internal one. What I’ve done, what I’ve let happen. It’s all my fault, I don’t deny it. And if I’m honest, I knew this shit was going to go down eventually anyway.
I finish my last set and slam the weights to the padded floor. Fuck. I look over to the mirror. My veins are about to come out of my neck. I sit down on the bench and cover my face with my hands and rest my elbows on my knees.
I fucking love her so much. I have never felt this. Never. Have. I. Felt. This. She’s the only one that can save me from myself. The. Only. One. Others have tried, but please, the bitches I’ve had to deal with in my line of work are just that. No respect for themselves and get what they can get from everyone else. There can never be love in that dirty shit.
I get up from the bench and walk to the master bathroom. I’m going to take a shower and try to get some perspective.
After my shower I step out and grab the black towel from the decorative basket Abby put in here. Damn!
“Fuck!” Are you fucking kidding me? “What the fuck are you doing here? And how did you even get in here to begin with?”
This bitch has got a death wish for sure. She’s standing in the doorway of my bathroom and bedroom and she’s a fucking wreck. Her make-up is all fucked up, poor bitch has been crying. Oh she’s going to be crying all right.
“Evan, please just listen to me.”
Really? What the hell is wrong with her?
“Monica you have nothing to say that I want to hear.”
I want to wrap my hands around her throat. That’s what my father did to my mother. He couldn’t let her go. She wanted to leave him, but he wouldn’t let her. He squeezed the life out of her right in front of me.
I don’t honestly know if the defeat that is springing to life in my veins is from knowing I don’t want to be like my father or if it’s because I know I’m exactly like him.
“How the fuck did you know what my father did?” Anger from my thoughts and what Monica did is causing the demons to surface. I’m going to snap and she doesn’t want to be here when that happens. Trust. That.
“Evan please, listen to me.” What. The. Fuck. Is she for real right now? I have loved Abby ever since… My head falls as I remember.
“Tell me Monica! Now!” I’m screaming. I need to scream because if I don’t get rid of this feeling then I might take it out on her. As much as I want to kill her here and now, Abby wouldn’t want that. Yeah I know what you’re thinking. I’m an asshole and you’re right, but trust this, Monica is no lady.
She just stares at me. I throw on my jeans and a t-shirt. I know that she looks really unstable right now and I glance at the cabinet that holds my loaded .45 next to the bathroom. She doesn’t catch that either, thank fuck.
“The last night we were together you had a nightmare.” She’s crying now. “You were screaming Abby’s name and yelling at your dad. I eventually figured it out.” She looks up to me, her mascara running down her cheeks.
I need to get that gun. “Let’s go into the living room Monica, we will sit down and talk.”
I have no intention of sitting anywhere with her, but again I need to get that gun. I’m not scared of her, but being in the undercover situations I’ve been in, I know never to underestimate anyone. Ever!
A smile crosses her face. “Really? You will talk to me? Hear me out?” Fuck!
“Yeah, let me run a towel through my hair. I’ll be in there in a minute.”
She smiles brighter and turns to leave the bedroom.
I snatch up the .45 and tuck it in the back of my jeans. This shit is crazy. I pick up my phone.
Evan: M’s here?
Natalia: I know I have been texting you.
I look at my phone and sure enough I have twenty-two missed texts.
Natalia: I’m outside the apartment do I need to come in?
Evan: No I’ll deal with her.
I tuck my phone in my jeans pocket and pad down the long hallway into the living room. Monica is pacing in front of the windows. When she sees me, she has a look that makes me want to puke. She actually thinks that I want her. She knew from the very beginning this would never go anywhere. I have loved Abby since…
“Evan, I’m so happy you want to try.”
Are you fucking kidding me right now? “I don’t want to try with you Monica! I only love Abby, I have only ever loved Abby…No one else. EVER!” I yell the last part, hoping this crazy bitch gets a clue.
There was a time when there could have been more between us, but I found out she fucked someone we were investigating. What I didn’t like was that she didn’t care about the bad shit he did for a living. She just wanted his nuts, simple as that. I had nothing for her after that except a good fuck every once in a while. I never even purposely got her off. I imagined she was Abby and that was it.
“Are you serious? After everything, you’re going to deny that you love me E?” She starts to approach me and I snap, that’s it. End of!
I snatch her up by her throat. “Did you think you were going to have a chance to know what my love feels like, you stupid bitch? I can never love a fucking whore, that’s all you are. Abby has never hurt anyone, she’s the only woman I can ever love and no one else. You told her the most hurtful thing you could just because you think you love me.” I almost snap her neck.
Evan, Abby would not approve! My conscious is talking to me now. I toss this bitch. I have to let go or that’s it.
“Get out!”
She isn’t getting anywhere with those fake as hell tears. Please, she’s a great actress, but my beast is unleashed and if she doesn’t get out of here, she’s done. She hurt Abby. I can never forgive that, ever.
Monica runs out of the door almost falling on her ass. Good, maybe she will never come back.
My entire life has been ripped from my hands. BANG. The glass I hold in my hand hits the wall landing into a million tiny pieces. Abby is the only person in this whole fucking world I want. I want to save her from this pain. The second I was given the opportunity to be honest and make it right I was too much of a pussy. I run my hands through my hair in defeat. I should have ripped Monica’s heart out of her chest. I can go to Abby and beg her to forgive me. I want to be honest, and I want to tell her everything, apologize for the twisted bullshit that I hate myself for. I’m no better than my father. The abuse he inflicted onto me is wanted now. I would beg for that because he’s right, I’m not any better than him and I deserved it, I needed it.
She won’t answer her phone. There is nothing left of me without her, my angel.
Her eyes were poisoned with the truth, the truth that has eaten me alive like a chronic pain every day of my life. I’m my own worst enemy. I want to surrender to her, put my lips to hers and ingest the pain I saw inside of her. She wouldn’t even let me touch her.
My fist collides with something. I look down to see my hand inside the sheetrock with blood dripping.
We are so far away, so many mistakes have been made. Picking up the yellow kitchen towel Abby bought when she redecorated our, well my apartment, but she’s here so much I still consider it our apartment. I press it to the wound but I don’t really give a shit about it though.
I walk over to the window looking down. There she is, standing in the street next to her car. She stopped. I reach out, touching the window, contemplating breaking the glass and jumping down to her. She’s so fucking beautiful, clutching her bag in that adorable little skirt, with her long, dark hair pulled to the side. She’s beautiful in a t-shirt and jeans; she can pull anything off, fucking perfection. My angel.
She looks up as she starts to walk towards the building. I th
ink maybe she sees me through the window; a smile breaks out onto my face.
We fuck up as humans. “ It’s ok Evan, I know there is something you need to tell me. I will be here when the time comes.” She rubbed her hand down my face to let me know we were connected no matter what shit we had to deal with. I love that woman.
As I remembered what Abby had said to me I reach out to the glass wishing I could take her in my hands and kiss those full pink lips. My demons are dark and my angel is light.
A car speeds up out of nowhere, heading straight for Abby. She doesn’t see it. I can because of the advantage of being up high. She can’t see what’s coming. I scream and slam on the window.
“ABBY!” She doesn’t hear me.
I knew she wouldn’t be able to. The grey sedan makes contact with my angel right in front of me. I scream her name. I run the building layout in my mind trying to picture the fastest way out.
Abby’s body slams into the car, her head hitting the windshield and her lifeless body rolling to the ground. I can’t move, I can’t take my eyes off of her. There is nothing I can do. Like in a nightmare, when you know it can’t be real and any second you will wake up. I’m not waking up; I’m not fucking waking up.
Pedestrians stand near her watching the scene unfold. The car that hit her drives off faster now than when it had approached. I can’t see the license plate from here.
I pick up my cell dialing 911 as I run out the door. I push the elevator button, waiting. “Fuck this.” I run to the exit for the stairs throwing the door open.
There are so many people, I can’t see her. “ABBY? Where are you?” A pool of blood sits at my feet as I approach her lifeless body.
An older woman with grey hair is providing CPR. I can’t see Abby’s face; her hair covers it now. Blood covers her beautiful body.
I drop to my knees slowly placing my hand to hers. “Please don’t leave me Abby. God please don’t take her from me.” I look to the sky, trying to find heaven for answers. I have never been a man that prayed, but I pray now. I caress her limp hand as I search for a pulse in her wrist. I can’t feel one. The older woman repeats CPR over and over.
From the small medical training I have, I know even when chest compressions are done correctly, only twenty-five percent of the blood flow is moved through the body. The woman providing chest compressions on Abby now is small; she can’t keep my angel alive with those tiny arms.
I move in and around her picking her up and setting her in front of Abby’s head. I begin checking for a pulse, I can’t feel one in her neck either,
“Fuck!” I grip my hands together and apply as much force as I can. Her blood covers my hands. “Abby, don’t leave me baby. Abby don’t you dare leave me.” I search for a heartbeat and there is nothing. There is so much blood pooled on the ground and on her body I fear there is nothing left for me to move through with the compressions. “AED!” I scream as I begin to focus my thoughts. “Is there an AED machine close by?” No one seems to know what I’m screaming about. They all look to me with confusion covering their faces. “Where the fuck is the ambulance?”
The amount of blood coming from her head is unbelievable and I feel helpless, scared, and lost. I don’t know what to do for her.
“Hey, grab something and apply pressure to her head!” I demand of the grey-haired woman.
She quickly removes her sweater and places it to Abby’s head, careful not to move her neck. I’m so grateful to have this woman here.
I have never felt so alone in my life. In actuality, I have always been alone, no one ever knowing what is in my head or soul, until Abby. She doesn’t know what kind of a monster I really am. Can I ever let her in that door knowing the room it leads to doesn’t have an exit? Would she be repulsed by someone like me? I have been loved by the most amazing girl in the world, all because I portray something that isn’t true. Abby said that she loved me, but who is it she’s loving? She doesn’t truly know this monster, she only knows the man I want to be for her.
A man in the crowd yells into his phone with a Persian accent asking when the ambulance would be here. He argues with the voice on the other end as he describes the scene that unfolded around us. The watchers hold their mouths open in disbelief while others clutch their wives and husbands.
For the twenty-something time I search for Abby’s pulse, not finding it.
“Abby, I love you so much. God please…take me…please take me instead. She doesn’t deserve this. God please bring her back to me.”
I practically punch her chest now, feeling a few of her ribs crack. I know my compressions are doing what they need to do, I just don’t know if her poor fragile body can come back from this. She’s bleeding out, right in front of me. Other than knowing the blood is coming from her head, I can’t tell where the other damage is because of the amount of blood that covers her body, her tiny little body.
I glance up as I hear sirens to see a young version of Abby, long dark hair, white dress; just like the white dresses Abby wears. Same perfect smile, and bright green eyes. I gasp in horror as the young girl smiles. I’m looking at Abby. I close my eyes as I check her for a pulse and there is still nothing. I glance back to the young girl and she’s gone.
“We will take it from here, sir! We have it.” The ambulance is here. Applying a bag to her face, shocking her lifeless little body with that fucking AED machine I had begged for. “How long has she been laying here?”
“Twenty-three minutes,” the grey-haired woman answers.
The medics and police ask questions, but my mouth won’t move. I can’t help now. My world is closing in, becoming dark and cold. The lies and regret fill me with a sharp pain that gathers at my head and shoots through my body like a charge.
“Sir, can you tell us what happened here? Did you see what happened?” a voice asks, but I can’t take my eyes off of Abby.
I’m going to lose her. She’s so hurt by my actions, actions that led us here to a dark hole in the depths of hell. She wouldn’t have been standing in the street. She would have been at work, at her desk finishing her work.
“Sir, I know this is difficult, but I need you to tell me what happened.”
I search for the grey-haired woman that helped me so much through this, just by being here, but I can’t find her. She’s gone. She must have gone with the police to give her statement.
“Sir? Are you hurt? Is this your blood or the young lady’s?”
“Abigale Hayes, her name is Abigale Hayes. It’s her…blood,” I answer.
“Ok.” The police officer has a kind voice and he’s trying to help me; help that I don’t deserve.
“A grey sedan hit her and just drove away, he just drove the fuck away,” I hiss.
“You saw the driver? A male?” The police officer is collecting information in hopes of finding the son of a bitch responsible for my angel laying on the ground bleeding to death.
“No, I didn’t see, the windows were blacked out. I couldn’t see.”
And then it hits me, the motherfucking car sped up when she was standing in the street. Normal people would slow down, but this twisted fuck sped up. They hit her on purpose.
“Damn it!” I hit the pavement below me.
“Sir? Can I have your name, please?” the officer asks.
“Evan Young.”
This name is the only thing I have left of my mother and the only thing I have that isn’t connected to my father. For that, in this moment, I’m grateful. My mother’s presence is here even if only in spirit.
The officer continues to ask questions, but I’m not paying attention. They’re moving Abby onto a gurney to place her into the ambulance and I need to make sure they don’t hurt her.
“Mr. Young?” the officer asks again.
“Ask your stupid fucking questions to that lady.”
“Sir? What lady?” His confused tone says that he doesn’t know what the hell I’m talking about.
“The lady that you spoke with a few minutes ago.�
�� As I speak, the confusion says he thinks I’m crazy. “The lady that told you how long Abby has been laying here…since the accident.” Do I need to draw him a fucking picture?
“Mr. Young, you have been through a traumatic experience and I assure you we will do everything in our power to find the person that did this, but in the meantime I need you to help by cooperating. Slow down and think carefully. What woman are you referring to? If she’s a witness I will need to speak with her too,” he continues.
This young asshole is getting on my nerves with this think slowly bullshit. I point in the direction she had been sitting when the ambulance arrived. I gave him a description as he wrote down the information.
“Sir, there was no woman matching that description. Well, no woman at all sitting there when I approached the scene.” This idiot didn’t see the woman sitting right next to Abby when he arrived? What the hell?
“I spoke to her; I know she was here. She was providing CPR when I got to Abby. Ask any one of these people, they will tell you,” I demand.
“Ok, I will ask around and try to have her located.” He half smiles.
Maybe he doesn’t think I’m crazy after all or maybe that’s what they do right before they put you in the psych ward. Standing on my legs, I follow the gurney that holds my Abby, the medics working tirelessly on her helpless body. I want to hold her, to tell her everything is going to be ok, but I can’t do anything to make this right.
“I want to go with her,” I announce to the man and woman in the ambulance.
“Are you family?” The woman, about the same age as Abby, asks.
“I’m her boyfriend, I’m not leaving her.” My voice says everything that my words can’t. The two look to each other and nod their heads to me.
The ambulance moves quickly through traffic, blaring sirens, getting the attention of the drivers that share the road. Abby lays on the gurney with straps, tubes, and wires everywhere on and in her body. She has a pulse on the monitor, but it is so weak from the blood loss it doesn’t pick up several times as we drive to the hospital. My body is next to hers as my hand caresses hers.
His Angel: The Angel Trilogy Book One Page 20