“Later,” he whispered. “When these two,” he turned his head and looked at our children, “are asleep, I’ve got something I want to show you.” He smiled his rakish smile and I closed my thighs tighter as the familiar rush left me heady and famished. “Here this came for you. I don’t recognize the handwriting.”
He handed me an envelope handwritten, obviously by a female. The penmanship, although a little loopy, was easy to read.
I opened the letter and placed the envelope down on the table next to me. Cole leaned over and placed a kiss on Evey’s sleeping blonde head before walking over to where Kyle played.
“Da-da,” Kyle said as he extended his little chubby arms for Cole to pick him up.
“Hey, little man,” Cole said as he lifted Kyle and kissed him. “You been a good boy for mommy?”
The sound of his giggle made me smile. I looked up to see Cole holding Kyle high as he pressed his mouth over his little chubby belly. That sound is one I’ll never tire of hearing.
I opened the sheet of pretty stationary and shivered…remembering the last time I received a handwritten note, but looked down at the curvy childish writing.
Dear Ms. Preston,
I wish there were words I knew to tell you how thankful I am for you and Ms. Maloney. I hope someday to meet you and tell you in person how much I appreciate what you both did for me. If it weren’t for the two of you and your selflessness and braveness, I wouldn’t be here and my family would be devastated and empty.
I know all about the chance you both took and the danger you placed yourselves in, and if there were words to show you how grateful I am I would use them. But for now, it seems that all I can do is offer you words that seem by any measurement to fall terribly short for the sacrifice and brave actions the two of you took.
Until the dictionary is rewritten, I’m afraid all I have is ‘thank you’.
Thank you for my life.
Thank you for my family.
And thank God for bringing you to my side...
And last but not least, thank you for taking care of my medical expenses.
I feel sad that I am not able to describe what your generosity and selflessness has done for my family and me.
I looked up and watched as Cole, holding Kyle in one arm, as he walked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and with his free hand, poured juice into the red sippy cup. He tightened the top, and handed it back to Kyle, who gleefully brought the cup to his mouth and eagerly drank from it.
I didn’t know until now that Cole had paid all of her expenses and I smiled. Of course he would, and I would expect nothing less. He was after all perfect.
I hope to someday thank you both in person and only hope my hug will convey what my words cannot. I am convinced you are both my guardian angels and I pray I could somehow, someday, show you how much you are both appreciated.
Love,
Lily Stevenson
The girl we saved from…what is it Michelle called him…dickwad.
“Who’s the letter from?” Cole asked.
“Lily,” I answered as I looked at him.
“Oh. How is she?”
“She’s well, thanks to you,” I said, my pride beaming.
“She’s only well because the of you two took the chance to save her.” He looked directly at me.
“No, she’s only well because you are a good man, and that’s that,” I declared.
“Okay, well I guess that’s that,” he smiled.
“I love you, you know that don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His eyes sparkled and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. God, I loved that smile.
Epilogue
“Hold him up.”
He felt someone grab his arms and yank him to his feet. The arms felt like steel bands around his neck and stomach, crushing him. They were tight, too tight. It hurt to breathe. He tried to struggle, but was unable to move.
“Got him man…fucking do it now.”
Something hard and cold plunged into him and was dragged down his body from his chest to his waist. The pain felt like a hot poker burning a hole through his skin. The searing heat caused him to double over.
He panicked, and tried to get to the bed. He wrapped his arms around himself and clutched his body trying to reach the wall, needing something to lean into, to hold himself up, but he took one step forward and fell to his knees.
“What the fuck,” he whispered as the air left his lungs.
A sharp pain ran the length of his stomach and he grabbed himself tighter, trying to hold in the parts that were slipping out. The agonizing sting shot throughout his body.
He was getting dizzy and nauseous. Unable to speak, he knelt on the cold concrete floor. An odd hissing replaced the sound of his cry as he tried desperately to call out. He could feel his heartbeat as it pulsed through the long wet, slimy, hose wrapped around and tightly held between his fingers.
The shaking started low…in his foot he thought, and slowly crept up his legs. He shook violently like he was freezing, but he wasn’t cold. He wasn’t anything really. He was just pain. Hollow pain. The burning in his gut was intense, and he could barely stand it as he writhed in agony on the floor.
The moonlight was dim in the dank room, but he held his hand up to the pale light and saw the dark gray warmth that coated his hand and ran down his arm.
The shaking got up to his belly and then stopped. The pulsing was getting slower. The pain was getting worse. A numbness spread from his feet to his waist, but unmercifully stopped there. He prayed the numbness would crawl up his belly and make the pain go away.
He saw a low light through the door and could make out someone standing there. He heard them but didn’t have the strength to call out. Breathing was getting more and more difficult.
“Did it?” he heard someone ask.
“Yup.”
“Dead.”
“Yup…or just about.”
“Good.”
“Yup.”
“Do we tell him now?”
“Don’t give a fuck.”
“Yo…” Someone tapped on the metal door. His head blocked the light outside from coming into the room through the small window in the door.
“Johnny… you still alive?”
He wanted to say yes. He wanted to ask for help, but the pain was too much, too intense, and he couldn’t breath. He tried to call out but was barely able to grunt.
“I’m gonna tell him.”
“Do what the fuck you want. I’m going to sleep.”
He looked up. The silhouette of the man’s head still loomed in the small window.
“Johnny, ” he paused, “the man on fire said ‘see you in hell’.”
“Dude, what’s that shit mean?”
“Fuck if I know, just said what he told me to say.”
Jonathan lay on the cold damp cell floor in a spreading pool of dark gray and remembered a small boy, caught in the arms of a fireman trying hard to pry himself loose as the fire reached into the night sky, licking at the branches of the trees above his head.
He watched the boy scream, kick and cry. He could see the boy’s pain, and he smiled. He smiled thinking of the fireman’s arms tight around the boy’s middle. Pulling him closer, tighter. He felt the pain shoot up into his brain and tried to cry out, but a gurgling sound got stuck in his throat…he was drowning…he spat and tried to catch his breath. No good. Psssst…was all he was able to utter. He wanted to remember the boy who lost everything…wanted to feel his pain…and just before he blacked out…he did.
The End
Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer?
Thanks!
C.E. Hansen
About the author:
C.E. Hansen is an American writer. She also writes under the pseudonyms C.E. O'Brien for her young adult series, Hero. Hansen has international rights licensed in 15 territories a
s of May 2013.
C.E. wrote her first romance novel at age fourteen when she discovered writing about boys and girls was way easier than actually having a relationship of her own. Since that time, her communication skills haven't improved, but she likes to think her writing has. After earning an associates degree in literature from WC, she worked in a bus company, a law office and a wine/gourmet food shoppe, but she never abandoned writing. She's a proud mother of a beautiful daughter, lives in New Jersey with her husband and Maltese Zoe, and if she's not working on her latest sexy story, you can find her reading, watching television, or indulging in her unhealthy addiction to chocolate. C.E. Hansen's debut novel IT'S A CRIME was released May 2013, her follow up novel IT'S A SHAME, was released November 11th, 2013.
If you want to read more posts like this one or follow her insane journey to debut authorhood, you can find her here...indulging in her passions...whether they be writing, eating chocolate, or twitter/facebook/c-e-hansen.me
Other Titles by C.E. Hansen
It’s A Crime
Unlikely Hero
Act Accordingly – Due out 2014
Connect with Me:
Follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/CynthiaEHansen
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It's A Shame Page 25