“I need to examine you,” Ty said. “Can you stand up?” I nodded, wincing in pain as I got to my feet, heavily supported by Ty. He had one arm around me in a comforting embrace, and for a moment, I wished he would never let go. He pointed at the back of the ambulance, and I took a seat, unsure of whether I should have been feeling embarrassed or relieved. He scanned my eyes and face, gently brushing the dirt from my chin. I winced, and his touch became even softer.
“Christ,” he said. “Take off your shirt, Khloe.”
“Hey now,” I said, forcing amusement into my tone. It hurt to talk almost as much as it hurt to breathe. “Do you ask all your female patients to undress?” Ty didn’t look the least bit amused as he helped me shrug off my jacket, and then the blood and dirt streaked t-shirt. I leaned forward, hugging my knees, now only covered by jeans and a bra. The female medic draped a blanket over my shoulders as Ty examined my bruised abdomen and chest. It hurt too much to breathe, so I made a few unsuccessful attempts to hold my breath to ease the pain. I felt Ty’s fingers trail over my skin, but even his gentle touch didn’t ease my discomfort. I couldn’t cry, though, not in front of them. Crying was a weakness, and I couldn’t be weak. With Carter gone, I had to be the strong one.
“Fuck,” said Ava from where she was standing. She was lighting her third cigarette, observing us from behind Ty’s shoulder as if wary of getting too close. “Whoever this guy is, he did a number on you, Khloe.”
I forced a chuckle and then regretted it as my body screamed with pain. I grimaced and gritted my teeth.
“That he did,” I whispered. Ty shook his head as he examined what I assumed were bruises all up and down my side, back, and mid-section.
“You need to go to the hospital,” he said after a moment. “I’m not a doctor, Khloe, but you could have internal bleeding.”
“Oh, please.” I reached for my shirt and pulled it over my head, resisting the urge to flinch or throw up. “I’ll just, you know, rub some dirt in it.”
“In my professional, medical opinion, I think you need to let us take you to the ER,” Ty said. I forced a smile and took a breath, trying to play off the pain.
“No. I’m fine. I’m going home.”
“She’s refusing medical care?” the female paramedic asked Ty. “She has to sign a medical refusal form.” She looked irritated, but I didn’t care. I was embarrassed enough without being poked and prodded by doctors and nurses.
“Don’t do this, Khloe,” Ty said. Since I’d known him, this was the most serious expression I’d seen him give. I forced a smile for him.
“Nice try. But I need to go home now.” I slid down from the back of the ambulance and signed the paper the other medic shoved in my face. Jay was still talking to the cop, but I knew not much could be done without disclosing more information about my attacker. The cop spotted me getting ready to go and stepped around Jay.
“Do you know who did this?” he asked. “Was it a friend of yours?”
“No,” I said. “I’d never seen that man before in my life.”
“Did you get a good look at him? Any physical traits you remember?”
“No,” I lied. “I didn’t even see his face. Sorry.” I turned and waved to Ty, who was putting his medical supplies back into the bag, still looking crestfallen that I’d denied proper medical treatment.
“Will you go on a date with me now?” he called as I took Ava’s arm in one hand. Jay joined us then, wrapping an arm around my waist for better support. “Aren’t women supposed to like the knight in shining armor?”
“No,” I called, and then laughed. “Now you’re just trying too hard.”
Ty waved a hand over his head as if to dismiss me, but he was smiling as he and his partner loaded up the ambulance and pulled away. I answered a few more questions for the cop, careful not to give him any information that would force me to be questioned at the station. By the time we were finally done, I was exhausted and ready for bed. “Walk me home?” I asked Ava and Jay. As we headed back toward my place, I knew I had to tell them what really happened. Ava, I knew, would find out eventually, anyway.
“It was his dealer?” Jay asked when I’d finished. “His drug dealer?”
“That’s what he said.”
“Why didn’t you tell the cop?” Jay asked. “They could have caught this guy with that information alone!”
“That’s not how it works around here, dude,” Ava said before I could answer him. “Had this jerk been caught, he would have eventually been released…”
“… and once he was released, he would have come after me again,” I continued for her, taking another painful breath. “This is reality, Jay. This is our world of imperfection. It’s not cozy, and it’s not fair. It’s just… life.”
“What makes you both think that the law can’t protect you?” Jay asked. Ava laughed, but it was humorless.
“The law protects people like you, Jay. Not people like us.” Before he could respond to that, she changed the subject. “Where in the hell is Jesse, anyway?” She was riled up again, and I almost regretted telling her anything. She stubbed out her cigarette on the sidewalk and scowled at me as if I was the one at fault now. “That little prick needs to see what he’s gotten you into.”
“Forget about it,” I muttered. “He probably caught wind of this and is making it a point to stay far away.”
“Maybe that’s for the better,” Jay said gently, and Ava scoffed.
“Sure is,” she said. “If he wants to live.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” I tried not to make another sour face as I stepped stiffly off the curb, wishing the pain that was shooting through my body would tone down, even a little bit. But despite the pain, despite the assault, despite the possibility of fractured bones, I knew I couldn’t go to the hospital. The fear of being assumed a drug addict outweighed any fear of injury. Had Carter been there, he would have bound and gagged me himself just to get me into the ER to make sure nothing was wrong. I wasn’t that responsible.
“Khloe, I’m serious when I say that maybe we should talk to the police again,” Jay said. “If you knew who it was, they could catch the guy, and I promise I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” Both Ava and I glanced in his direction at the same time. Ava looked at me, a sneer lighting up on her face.
“He’s kidding, right?” she asked. I looked at Jay.
“Sure,” I said. “Tell her you’re kidding.”
“No. I’m not kidding.” He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, crossing his arms like a stubborn child amid a tantrum. “If getting you into the hospital means turning this jackass in, you need to do it. He’ll be thrown in jail in an instant.”
“Yeah,” Ava agreed. “Right alongside us.” She stopped walking and glared at Jay. “If you haven’t already noticed, we’re not exactly model citizens. Having the cops there tonight was enough of a close call for me.”
“He could have killed her!” Jay snapped. It was the first time I’d seen him convey such an intense emotion. “You’re more concerned with being busted than taking care of yourself and your friend?”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like you know anything about our lives.” Ava was in his face now, eyes burning with livid rage. For a moment, I considered stepping between them, but I was too tired to care. It was difficult to handle Ava when she wasn’t riled up, so I’d let Jay have fun with this one. “You don’t know anything about us, Jay. You can’t just come waltzing into other people’s lives acting like you know what’s best for them.”
“Actually. I took it upon myself to waltz into his life,” I said meekly. Neither of them paid me any attention. I wondered if they realized I was still standing there.
“Excuse me for giving a shit,” Jay said. “But now that Carter’s dead, I may be the best person here for you guys right now.” There was a moment of silence. I looked down at my hands, pretending to be absorbed in the tiny cuts and scrapes in my palm. Ava placed her han
ds on her hips, nostrils flaring as they did when she was nearing the point of a breakdown. I knew it was only a matter of time before she’d start throwing shit and screaming at us in Spanish, so I cleared my throat and looked over at Jay, but not before Ava spoke.
“Do you really think you can waltz in here and take Carter’s place?” she seethed. “I’ll tell you now that you’ve got another thing coming.” She didn’t look at me, but her jaw twitched with anger. “Carter left behind some big shoes to fill, dude, and you won’t fit. So, stop trying so hard.”
Silence settled over the three of us, and anguish rose like bile in my throat. It was the first time I’d ever heard Ava say anything remotely close to kind about Carter, and only then did I realize how much of a light he was in both of our lives, not just mine.
“I think we’ve got it from here,” I said quietly. “It’s been a rough night.” I expected Jay to argue, but he didn’t. In fact, he looked defeated as he squeezed my shoulder and went in for a hug.
“Goodnight, ladies,” he said. His eyes flickered between Ava and me and then rested on me. “Call me tomorrow, okay?” I watched him go, feeling sick, wondering how Carter would have reacted to my rudeness and Ava’s temper. I could almost see it in my head.
“Apologize to him, Khloe,” he’d say. “And Ava, pull your head out of your ass. There are good people in this world who aren’t me, I promise. You just need to let them in.”
But despite my regret, Ava only rolled her eyes. She’d won this round. The shrieking would be put on hold until the next thing riled her up.
“What a drama queen,” she said. She linked her arm in mine and pulled me forward. I flinched in pain but masked it the best I could.
“He’s just trying to look out for us,” I said. “It’s kind of sweet.”
“You won’t think that when he turns us in.” Ava handed me my phone, and I glanced down at it, wondering if by some small miracle, I would have a call or a text from Jesse. I wondered if he’d even heard I’d been attacked by his dealer. Asshole.
“I’m going to bed,” I told Ava as we approached the apartment. I unlocked the front door and stepped in, anxious to crawl under the covers and hide until I could face the world again. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m just really tired.” For a moment, Ava tested me with those pathetic puppy-dog eyes. But when she realized I was serious, she hugged me.
“Call me tomorrow.”
“Of course.” I watched her leave from the window, walking toward the bus stop without a care in the world. When she was out of sight and no longer alone on the street, I drew the curtains, locked the door, and headed up to bed. As I slipped out of my soiled clothes and into a ragged t-shirt, one from high school which had once been Carter’s. The journal sitting on the comforter on my bed taunted me. I slid beneath the covers, holding the book to my chest, wishing, just like every other moment of every day, that he was here to talk to, to cry to, to be comforted by. Flipping on the lamp next to my bed, I opened the journal. I was surprised to find that the next entry hadn’t been written until nearly a year after Carter had met Jay. The date was April 18, 2015, which means they had been together for nearly a year at this point. And even then, I still hadn’t known about it.
He’s so good to me. Jay, I mean. He cares for me the way I care for Khloe. It’s nice to have that kind of person in your life… and that goes for everybody. We all need somebody to lean on, especially in our darkest moments. Jay is my angel.
I hope i’m somebody’s angel, too.
I didn’t hear from Jesse or Jay for two weeks, but I practiced my self-control and refused to text or call either of them. I hadn’t been approached again by the dealer, so I could only assume that he’d gotten his money, whether from Jesse or someone else, I didn’t care, as long as I was left alone. I figured Jay was still upset at Ava flipping out on him, so I knew I needed to give him some space. Truth be told, it wasn’t Jesse whom I missed the most. It was Jay. Besides the journal, Jay was the last thing I had left of Carter. Being around Jay was like being back around my best friend. He was a breath of fresh air, a moment of relief, the light at the end of the tunnel.
Despite my greatest efforts, I couldn’t go day-to-day without getting high or drunk. This world was the world Carter had rescued me from. He’d grabbed my hand and pulled me to the top until we were both stable on our feet, on dry land. For a while, I’d been happy. Content. Sober. But without Carter there to hold me up, everything had fallen apart again. There was no one left to please. There was no one around to say ‘no, Khloe, do better.’ My world was in shambles, my life a black hole of emptiness. Every day felt like another sixteen-hour struggle for air. Moment by moment, I was dragged further and further down, into the depths of black, murky water. Eventually, I assumed, I would just drown, and the misery would end.
Hopefully.
There was one person who did not stop calling, though, and that was Frank, who, by all rights, was still my father. But since the day Mom had died, he’d been nothing to me. In fact, I’d avoided him at all costs. Though he’d never been into the strong drugs that I’d stumbled into, whiskey was his best friend, and when Frank was drunk, he wasn’t Frank. I had no desire to answer his phone calls, no need to talk and make up and listen to his empty promises of sobriety. It was a difficult enough task holding myself together, and I knew I couldn’t do it for someone else.
On Saturday night, Ava called once, but I ignored it and turned off my phone. I wasn’t in the mood for people, not even my closest friend. I hadn’t read more of Carter’s journal, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wanted to find and kill the person who said time heals all wounds. I had come to the very quick conclusion that it was bullshit. If anything, the more time that passed, the harder it became to wake up every day knowing he was still gone.
Huddling up with a chilled bottle of vodka and a blanket, I flipped on the television and surfed through the channels, avoiding letting my gaze wander over the journal sitting on the coffee table. I could see my phone light up from where I had left it on the entertainment center, but I had no desire to get up and check it. I was a long way from caring about anything, and even a longer way from giving a shit while still sober.
The straight vodka burned my throat going down, but I embraced it. I’d run out of juice for a mixer, but at this point, I couldn’t bring myself to care. The sting of the alcohol was worth the eventual numbing of the pain. Sure enough, by seven or eight shots of booze, I hardly tasted it anymore, but I was feeling it in my head.
The television droned on in the background, but my mind was restless. The journal seemed to be mocking me from where it sat. On the entertainment center, my phone was blinking, alerting me of a missed call or text or both. With heroic effort, I sat up, my head spinning. My body ached and stung from where I’d been hit, and it was a difficult feat to force myself across the living room floor. Twice, I almost ate the floor on account of the booze or the injuries, I’m not sure, but I was still standing steady as I reached for my phone and skimmed through the messages, reading one from Ava.
Ava: Come see me @ the party. Jesse’s house.
I typed back a quick reply, feeling irritated. Of course, she’d be over there, probably just to spite me.
Khloe: Y R U there? He’s a dick.
I slipped the phone into my pocket and resumed my position on the couch, taking another shot of booze as I did so. Wallowing in my own self-pity seemed to be the only thing I was good at these days. Carter would have dumped a bucket of ice water over my head and then poured the rest of the vodka down the sink.
“Stop wasting your life, Ladybug. You only get one. Choose wisely.”
I took another swig and glanced at my phone waiting for Ava’s reply. I was surprised when a few minutes passed, and nothing came in. Sometimes, I was certain that the phone was welded to her hand. It was unlike her to keep me waiting for a reply. Aggravated, I pushed the green button and listened to the ring-tone buzz in my ear, e
xpecting her to pick up.
“Esto es Ava! Usted ya sabe qué hacer. Bye!”
“Ava!” I sat up, flinching, taking another swig of vodka. “Where are you? You should come over. Call me back, dude.” I hung up the phone and leaned back into the couch, feeling some overwhelming desire to have Ava around. I found myself getting extra dependent on her after a drink, or eight. She may not have been the most sympathetic, understanding of souls, but she was company when company was needed, and she was now my best friend.
I dialed her number again and let it ring, feeling a moment of wariness creep into my chest when it cut to voicemail. I jammed the phone into my pocket and stood up, fighting the wave of nausea that hit me like a bag of bricks. If she weren’t going to call me back, I would go to her, even if I was nearly shit-faced and only halfway coherent.
I collected the car keys from the nail by the door and made my way to the carport. Twice my toe caught on the wet grass, and I nearly stumbled head first into the pavement, which I’m sure would have done wonders for my already bruised ribs and pride. I slid into the front seat of Missus Betty and cranked the engine, listening to the squeal of the belt grate at my ears. I had meant to get the car in, like, months ago, but other things had happened—things that had derailed my life and made waking up every day almost intolerable. But even then, even when I was about to quit, I knew I still needed to get the car checked. So, not thinking twice about it, I dug the cell phone from my pocket and dialed Jay’s number. He answered on the fourth ring, sounding half-asleep and groggy.
“Hullo?”
“Jay!” I slammed my fist on the wheel with excitement, feeling giddy for some unknown, drunken reason. “It’s meee.”
“Khloe,” Jay said. I could imagine him rubbing his face and rolling his eyes, regretting the fact that he’d answered the phone. “What are you doing?”
“You’re a mechanic, right?” I slammed the car into reverse and pulled out, dropping the phone once from my ear. It bounced off the seat and landed face-up, still connected. I picked it up, mumbling something that not even I could understand or decipher.
If I Fall Page 11