by J. E. Parker
Unwilling to give her a second more of my time, I rounded Carmen's bed and plopped down in the small plastic chair next to her. Placing her palm atop mine, I caressed her knuckles with my thumb.
"I'm here, Mama C," I whispered so only she could hear. "And I'm not leaving you again."
The surrounding air grew lighter, and I looked over to the open door where I'd left an irate looking Deputy Johnson standing, expecting to see her still there, shooting daggers my way.
But to my surprise, she'd left.
Thankfully, she never came back.
For me, silence had become dangerous.
Especially the heavy kind that fell over the hospital in the dead of night, cloaking everyone, myself included, in its dark, freezing embrace.
Beyond exhausted and scared half to death, I didn't have the strength or resilience to fight my demons off as the quiet awakened them, calling them forth to wreak havoc.
And it was because of those demons and the unending stream of hurt, self-doubt, and raw fear they infused into my blood that I stood next to Carmen's bed at a little after three in the morning, holding her room phone in my hand.
It was the same phone I'd used to call Faye dozens of times over the past few weeks, but one that I could never get her on since her number no longer worked.
I didn't know whether Dominic had killed her and my sweet Amelia because of their association with us, or if they'd been lucky enough to escape his wrath.
The unknown was driving me mad.
I had to know if they were okay, but I also needed them to know that Carmen and I had made it out alive, along with where to find us when doing so was safe.
But it wasn't just them that my heart screamed for me to contact, no matter the lengths I had to go. As scared as I was to dial his number, which Carmen had given me the day after he'd given it to her, calling James was something that needed handling too.
He loved Carmen the way my late daddy had once loved my deceased mama. I'd seen that firsthand. And though I had no clue what he knew of our disappearance, I couldn't let him go on thinking the woman he loved was dead or had skipped town, leaving him behind.
The problem was, I didn't know how safe calling him was. There was no doubt in my mind that he'd run straight to us once I told him where we were. But what if El Diablo had eyes on him?
Back in Toluca, Dominic had known Carmen was sneaking around, seeing someone. He'd made that known the night he dragged her down to the trap house basement and hurt her in ways most couldn't imagine.
What if, by some cruel twist of fate, he'd learned exactly who James was—Hendrix too?
A whimper slipped past my lips at the thought. I liked Hendrix a lot. I couldn't put him or his pregnant fiancée in danger. Not when I knew Dominic would kill each of them without a second thought the second they came running.
That's after he killed Carmen and me.
My mind raced as I stared down at the numbers on the phone. Like always, I didn't know what to do. Trying to reach Faye had been risky enough.
Was calling James the wrong move?
It was a question I'd been grappling with since the very beginning, and with each day that passed, it was one I found harder to answer.
I looked at Carmen, still sleeping, her normally tanned skin ghostly pale, making her look sick and gaunt.
I hated it.
"Mama C." My chest tightened as my chin wobbled. "I need you to wake up because I don't know where to go from here."
Misplaced frustration mixed with desperation flowed through me, paralyzing my breaking heart when she didn't answer.
Without her, my doom was near.
I could feel it.
Lost in a world that had no room for a broken girl like me, if she died, I'd be alone again and without a family to call my own. That's not something I could cope with.
I'd lost so much already.
I couldn't handle losing more.
Carmen had to wake up.
Absolutely had to.
After slamming the plastic phone down on the rolling table next to me, I leaned over the bedside rail separating her side from my front. Hands cupping her colorless cheeks, I hovered my freckle-covered face over her ashen one.
"Alright, Miss Colombia," I said, steady voice hard and unyielding. "You've been playing the part of Sleeping Beauty long enough. It's time for you to wake up."
I watched each of her features for any sign of movement. Yet, stillness was all I saw.
Skin burning, my desperation grew, raging in my chest like a starving wildfire. "You have to wake up," I cried, belly twisting in so many painful knots I almost vomited on the spot. "Because I'm not giving you any other choice."
I bit back a scream and squeezed her face harder, my palms jerking against her icy skin when she gave me nothing. "Fight, Carmen! Frickin' fight to come back to me and wake up!" I demanded. "Right. Now!"
The same night shift nurse who'd overlooked me staying at Carmen's bedside well beyond visiting hours raced into the room, her blue eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. "Ms. Cole," she admonished, alarmed by my escalating voice and harsh tone. "You can't—"
"I said wake up!" Hysterics seized me, threatening to pull me chest-deep into lunacy. "And for once, listen to me!"
The nurse snuck up beside me, grabbed my wrists, and tried—keyword, tried—to pull them off Carmen's gorgeous face.
But I wasn't having it.
She needed me to touch her, needed my warmth bleeding into her. Maybe if she could feel me there, my heart shrieking at her to do as I said, she'd battle that much harder to wake.
"You promised you wouldn't leave me!" My tears cascaded onto her frozen face. "You swore it!" My shuddering cries morphed into full-fledged sobs, wracking my frame. "I've already lost Chiquita."
I rested my forehead against hers as memories of me searching the swamp for Ashley's body rushed forward, bringing with them even more pain. I'd never forgive myself for leaving her behind.
What if she'd still been alive like us?
What if I could've saved her?
Deep down, I knew it wasn’t possible.
Not after seeing the rage that flared in Dominic's stare a moment before he pistol-whipped her as punishment for standing between him and I, her body shielding my own from the gun he’d intended to kill me with.
Just as I heard firsthand the sound of the same gun as he bellowed and fired three times while I laid on the floor, eyes involuntarily closed, bleeding heavily and slipping into unconsciousness from a gunshot wound, helpless to stop him or help her.
No, there was no way she'd survived.
Unlike with Carmen and me, El Diablo would've watched Ashley take her last breath closely. For the betrayal she'd committed, he would have taken pleasure in watching the life leave her body.
He was sadistic like that.
For the things he'd done, and for the beautiful people he'd stolen away, I prayed with every fiber of my being that he would burn one day.
If I had anything to say about it, he would.
Needing to anchor myself before I splintered, I pushed the dark thoughts and nightmarish memories to the back of my head, where I locked them away.
Then I focused back on Carmen.
"Please, Mama C... don't l-leave me."
"Ms. Cole," the nurse tried again, "how about we—"
Her words died, and my chest froze, failing to rise as the high-pitched, steady beep of the machine that monitored Carmen's vitals quickened, racing faster with every beat of her mighty heart.
Dropping my hands, I stood straight, my confused gaze locked on the black screen mounted against the wall opposite me. "What's happening?" I swallowed, my throat clogged with both tears and what felt like a boulder of phlegm. "Is she—"
"She's waking up."
Releasing the hold she still had on my wrists, the nurse then raced around the bed. Her movements were lightning-quick as she dropped the bedside rail and pressed the bell end of her stethoscope to
Carmen's chest.
"Keep talking to her." Her gaze found mine. "Your voice is working, so use it."
I didn't need to be told twice.
Taking Carmen's hand in mine, I laced our fingers together. "That's it," I choked out, anxiously shifting my weight from one foot to the other. "Keep fighting and open your eyes."
The world around me slowed as medical staff spilled into the room. How they'd known what was going on, I didn't have the slightest clue.
With my attention focused solely on the woman who'd fought tooth and nail to become the mother I'd lost, and to protect me from the devil who'd snared Ashley and me in his inescapable trap, I didn't stop to ask and find out either.
"Come back to me, Mama C." I caressed her face, my touch featherlight. "You're all I've got left, and I refuse to lose you too."
More sobs.
One after another, they stripped my control.
"Please, Pixie." My pleading words were a bittersweet reminder of the pet name James had called her the night I'd played basketball with Hendrix and Tuck at the fire station. "I know it's hard, but don't you dare quit on me. Not now, and not when—"
I nearly collapsed when her fingers tightened around mine. The relief-driven sound that poured from me was animalistic and loud enough to trigger an avalanche.
"She's squeezing my hand!"
"Ms. Cole," the doctor who'd rushed in seconds before said, his voice gentle yet demanding. "If you can hear me, I'd like you to open your eyes."
Her grip on my hand tightened further, feeding the hope-fueled fire that blazed inside me. "Listen to him," I demanded, desperate for her to do as the doc said. "Now is not the time to be stubborn. I mean it, listen to your doctor right this second and—"
My words died mid-sentence when Carmen did as she was told and cracked her eyelids, giving me the tiniest glimpse of her irises. I didn't know if she could see me or if it was a coincidence that her unfocused stare had landed on my face, but I didn't care.
Carmen was alive.
And awake.
It was the moment I'd been praying for, and one that, no matter how long I lived, I'd never forget.
Lifting her hand to my chest, I freed my fingers from her grip and placed her palm against my pulsing heart, letting the steady rhythm soak into her.
"You did it, Mama C."
Thanks to my non-stop weeping, my words were barely audible, much less coherent.
"You kept your promise."
The ever-present knots that had my stomach twisted into a pretzel loosened the slightest bit, easing the hurt that radiated through my torso.
"Just like you always have."
Ignoring the bustle of the medical staff, I leaned over and pressed a kiss to her warming cheek.
"And just like I know you always will."
Every word was the truth.
No matter the depths she had to go, she would do everything in her power to keep her word, even if it meant crawling through the flames of Hell on bloodied hands and busted knees.
It was a truth she'd proven repeatedly.
And one I would never doubt again.
Carmen
I woke up to sunlight on my face.
Like warm silk, it blanketed my chilled skin, heating my flesh through to the bone as I cracked my heavy-lidded eyes and took in the blurred white walls that surrounded me, along with the familiar body curled softly into my throbbing side, a mess of wild red hair covering my shoulder.
Lightheaded, my confused mind spun.
Where am I?
A machine beeped to my right, pulling my attention away from the panic that simmered beneath my skin. My stiff neck screamed in protest when I tried to turn my head toward the high-pitched sound.
Throat parched, my dry lips parted, and a sharp gasp filled the room as pain streaked through my skull and down into my chest, rousing Little One, who rested beside me, her warm fingers entwined with mine.
Jerking upright, she stared down at me, a multitude of emotions I couldn't read dancing in their green depths. "Mama C." Her whisper-like voice was thick with sleep. "You're awake again."
Again? I didn't understand.
Moisture gathered behind my eyelids as I gazed at her. Her palm found my cheek, and I leaned into her soft touch, reveling in the added warmth that spread through me at having her so close.
"Please stay awake this time," she pleaded, her freckles dancing as her lower lip trembled. "Just for a bit, okay? I know you're tired and need to rest, but I've been alone so much. And I've missed you. Like, a lot."
"Jade, what… is g-going… on?"
Pulling away, she wiped away the lone tear that had spilled down her cheek. "Well, I guess I should explain some things since you've been in a coma for over three weeks, and I don't know how much you remember."
I froze, my body stiff as a board.
A coma?
What the hell had happened to me?
And why couldn't I remember anything?
A heavy frown tugged her lips down at the unspoken questions that flashed across my face.
"Don't worry," she added, reading my alarm. "The doctor said any short-term memory loss you may have is completely normal. Most likely temporary too."
"What"—I grimaced—"happened?"
Head dipping forward, she pulled in a deep breath. Her chin rose seconds later, and her reluctant stare crashed into mine. "Almost a month ago, Dominic tried to kill us."
One name and fear engulfed me. El Diablo. My frantic eyes darted around the room as I waited for the devil himself to appear, his sinister smile and black heart filled with the promise of both pain and death.
Little One pulled her hand from mine and traced her fingertips down the side of my face, snaring my attention. "It's okay," she cooed, trying her best to calm my rising panic. "He isn't here, and he doesn’t know where we are." Her cheeks reddened, darkening her peaches and cream complexion. "Or that we're even still alive."
Once again, I didn't understand.
Needing answers, I ignored the belt-like terror that whipped my insides and forced my chapped lips to work in time with my heavy tongue. "W-Where," I stuttered, the lone word clearer than the ones I'd spoken moments before. "Are we?"
"Charleston Memorial Hospital."
Confusion increasing tenfold, I blinked.
Before I could try to say the words I would struggle to speak, she explained further. "We're a little over an hour outside of Toluca and about thirty minutes from the swamp where Clyde dumped us after El Diablo shot me and stabbed you."
Shot her?
Stabbed me?
Memories hovered at the edge of my psyche at the sound of Clyde’s name. But as hard as I tried, I couldn't grasp them.
At least, not until something she'd said seconds earlier clicked in my mind, forming a question I forced myself to ask even though a voice in my head warned that my pounding heart wasn't ready for such an answer.
"You've been alone?" My exhaustion-lined eyelids drooped, partially hooding the sight of her beautiful, albeit hurt, face. "Where's Chiquita?" I swallowed, both the pain in my throat and dread crackling in my chest, reaching a fever pitch. "And Faye?"
I prayed they weren't still back in Toluca. Faye would be fine, she was tough, but without me there to protect her whenever I could, Chiquita wouldn't make it despite Dominic's sick fascination with her. Ashley was sensitive and vulnerable, her fractured heart tender.
She needed protection. She needed me.
Hell-bent on finding her, no matter the consequences, I gripped the stiff sheet blanketing me and prepared to toss it to the floor. But there was something about Jade's haunted face that made me pause.
And if possible, terrified me further.
"You really don't remember, do you?"
Close to screaming in frustration, I shook my head the slightest bit. The simple gesture was enough to shatter the dam holding back the rest of her tears, and like a castle built upon the sand, she crumbled.
Shoulders j
erking from the first of many sobs that spilled from her lips, she threw herself atop me and buried her face in the crook of my burning throat. The pain from the small collision was excruciating, but I wouldn't push her away.
Not for anything.
"I'm so sorry," she cried, trembling fingers clutching the front of the scratchy hospital gown cloaking my battered body. "Please don't hate me. I didn't mean for it to happen." Her voice, along with her cries, grew in both pitch and intensity. "And I looked for her the night I saved us, I swear I did, but I couldn't find her and—"
"Shh," I whispered, stroking her back through the cotton of the oversized grey t-shirt she wore. With my arms heavy and my muscles weak, moving was almost impossible, but to comfort her, I somehow found the strength. "It's okay." Her never-ending tears soaked my dry skin as I continued. "I could never hate you."
She lifted her head, and her red, bloodshot eyes locked with mine. I pulled in a quick breath, knowing that whatever she said next would knock the air straight from my lungs. "Not even when it's my fault that Ashley is dead?"
One question, one revelation.
That was all it took to shatter the barrier holding my memories captive and for my heart to break for what seemed like the millionth time in my life.
Agony raged through my chest, charring my soul, burning nearly every fragment of hope I'd ever had to smoldering ash as images of the night I had almost died rushed forward in an unstoppable wave of sorrow.
The fear on Faye's face as I left her standing in the mill, the anger I felt at seeing the blood staining Ashley's bullet-grazed shoulder, and the decision I made to end Dominic once and for all.
My failure to send El Diablo straight to Hell, where he belonged, the feel of my blade as it punctured my skin, draining my life away, one drop of blood at a time, and Chiquita’s warmth as she held my limp body against hers, begging me not to die.
Jade's screams as she watched me slip away, and the sound of James' beautiful voice as he'd promised to meet me at the shelter after Chiquita, Little One, and I had escaped El Diablo.
The smell of the swamp, the wail of ambulance sirens, and the tear-laden confession she had made as I lay sinking in the mud, dying.