forty-two: in which she leaves

"Shadows creep, and want grows stronger - deeper than the truth" –Ruelle, War of Hearts

********************************

"I'll go get the doctor," said Baron, rounding the hospital bed and dashing out the room without so much as a backwards glance.

Actually, I wouldn't have known if he looked back, or not. I was too busy looking at him and he was looking back at me.

"Hey, sleepyhead," I said in a soft voice, not trusting myself to move. I was close enough to touch him, if I wanted to lean over and do it.

Jake's eyes were clouded over, with confusion, maybe, but then he rasped, "Silver." He grimaced, raising his left hand and putting it to his chest, never once taking his eyes off me.

Tears shone in his hazel eyes and maybe they were glistening in mine, too, because my vision was suddenly blurry.

"Ssh," I murmured. "It's okay."

He was trying to sit up now, looking annoyed when he looked down and saw the front of the hospital gown they'd put him in. But his face crumpled up when he looked down at me and noticed the wheelchair for the first time. The rhythmic beeping of the machines turned into frantic noise, and I knew his pulse was racing, too quickly, too suddenly.

"No," he groaned, and before I could say anything else to him, he was ripping out the IV in his arm, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He cursed, pressing his fingers against the side of his head, wincing, and then he was kneeling in front of me.

"You need to relax, Jacob," I whispered, making a sound of surprise when he lay his head in my lap. I felt his warm tears permeate the thin material of my gown, wetting the bare skin of my thighs underneath.

Almost hesitantly, I put my hands in his wild hair, caressing him, comforting him.

That was how Baron, the doctor, and a nurse I didn't know found us.

"Mr. Ford!" the doctor said sharply, rushing to Jake. "Mr. Ford, we're going to need to get you back into bed immediately."

"Jake," I said, bending slightly to whisper into his ear, "you need to get back onto the bed, okay?"

"Don't leave me."

His voice was muffled, so I almost didn't hear him, but when I did, I felt my heart shatter into a million tiny fragments, so tiny that they couldn't ever be pieced back together again.

"Babe," I said back to him, "I'm right here."

It took the doctor, Baron and the nurse to hoist Jake back up onto the hospital bed. I wheeled myself out of their way and Baron came to stand beside me, watching as they put in a new IV and likely gave Jake a sedative. He'd agreed to return to bed, but he was adamant about doing his own thing. He was still fighting to sit back up, even as the medicine started working, resilient to the end.

Dr. Langford – whom I recognized as one of Sallow County Memorial's resident trauma surgeons – turned in our direction. "He's a bit uncooperative," he remarked wryly, "so we'll wait for the sedative to wear off and then I'll come back in to run some more tests." He was saying this to Baron, but then his eyes focused on me. "You're supposed to be in bed, resting, Ms. Fenton."

I certainly didn't want to get Megan into trouble, wherever she was. "I know. I just wanted to make sure that he was fine. I wouldn't be okay until I knew he was, too."

Dr. Langford nodded, glancing at the nurse, who was adjusting the pillows beneath Jake's head. "Alright, then, Lisa. Why don't we leave the family be?"

After they left, Baron went to his brother's side, his finger on the red marks on the counterpane where Jake's blood had just spilled from tearing out the IV. "I guess uncooperative is a euphemism for a tough little shit, huh," he muttered dryly, glancing at Jake, who was now out cold.

"Yeah," I said, laughing through my tears.

"You're just as uncooperative, you know," Baron informed me, gifting me with a half-smile. "You're the best thing to happen to my brother and he knows it."

Fighting back tears was proving to be impossible. "I don't know if he is the best thing to happen to me, though. I don't know anymore," I said weakly, wiping at my eyes.

Baron's smile faltered. "Maya, please don't break my brother's heart. It's a fragile one to begin with."

"Look at me, Baron," I hissed. "Look at your brother. Look at everything that's happened. This is what happens when you love too much, when your love is toxic. Don't talk to me about breaking his heart when he's broken mine so many times before."

I could see that Baron was struggling to find something to say, but I wouldn't hear it. Not now. Talking about this was making my head and heart hurt, and only one of the two could be fixed with medicine.

"He asked me for Mom's ring."

I gave Baron a look. "What?"

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "I gave him our mother's wedding ring. He should've gotten it in the first place, anyway. That ring belongs to you, Maya."

My eyes went to the sleeping hulk of a man in bed who was completely oblivious to what was going on around him. I was too stunned to contemplate just what exactly Baron was telling me, but then, I didn't have to. It was obvious, wasn't it?

The door behind me opened, and heavy footsteps resounded. It sounded like a marching army, but it was only a handful of Phantoms, invading the room and taking up every inch of free space around Jake's bed.

Ghost and Sin spotted me in the corner, approaching me with twin looks of concern.

"How you feelin'?" Ghost wanted to know.

"You need anything?" Sin asked at the same time.

"Good, and no, thanks," I said in return, putting my hands in my lap. "I'm fine on both counts."

"Is this...permanent?" Ghost nodded at the wheelchair.

I shook my head.

"Thank fuck." He breathed an audible sigh of relief, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "Maya, you have no idea how fucked-up we all are over this. Shit like this should never have happened, not on my watch."

Sin clapped a hand on his back. "Not your fault. We were betrayed. That shit wasn't your fault."

My brow furrowed. "Betrayed?"

"Yeah," said Sin, a shadow passing his face. "Some wet-behind-the-ears kid trusted McNally over his brothers, got us away from the clubhouse with fake intel, and that's when those fucks struck."

Ghost scrubbed a hand down his face. "They took his sisters. Can't fault his logic."

"There's a code, Prez."

I shook my head, which only made my headache worse. "His sisters? Portia and Tamara? Are those his sisters?"

Sin nodded. "Yeah. The women you were with."

"Where's their brother?"

Sin looked at Ghost before looking back at me and saying, "He was killed in the crossfire."

I looked away, tears prickling at my eyes. So much loss, so much death. Even if my guilt was misguided, I still felt it acutely.

"Is Daisy okay?" I asked, turning back to look at Sin and Ghost.

Ghost let out a heavy sigh. "She's...fine. Physically. Not a scratch on her. But I don't know. She won't come out of her room, won't talk to anyone. Sin thinks –"

"It's that kid. Sticks," Sin cut in. "Pretty sure she had a crush on him."

My throat clogged up. "Oh, Daisy." She'd obviously taken his death the hardest. I had to talk to her, to tell her how much he actually cared for her. She had been his flower. "Did he... Has Sticks been buried?"

Sin nodded. "He earned his patch. He was one of us. Kid's on the other side now."

This sharp aching in my chest was quickly becoming unbearable. At some point, the pain would stop. My head would stop hurting, my body would heal. I would be 100% – physically. The pain inside my chest? That was going to be my forever pain.

I would forever think of Sticks, of everyone else who had lost their life because of love. I would forever remember my bloodlust for the McNally siblings, of how, in those vital moments, I had turned into them. I had wanted to kill, and that would forever weigh on my mind.

And I would forever remember what it felt like to be lying immobile and helpless, being sliced and diced like meat on a chopping block. I would never forget that fear – the fear that came from imagining the worst. In those moments, my own mind was my biggest terrorizer, and perhaps the nightmares would never go away, just like the scars on my body.

Sin, Ghost, Baron and the rest of the guys hung around a little while longer, mumbling among themselves. I asked about Sebastian, and received the same response I'd gotten from the cops: He hadn't been at McNally's fortress and no one had heard a peep from him since.

It was the strangest thing, but weirdly, I hoped that wherever he was, he was happy.

By the time Megan came in to fetch me, I was tired and hungry, and more than willing to return to my room. Baron came up with me, only opening his mouth once I was in bed.

"About the ring," he began, sticking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "don't tell Ripper I said anything. That'd just spoil the surprise, you know?"

"I wasn't going to say a word, Baron."

"Good," he said, looking visibly relieved. "But...do you know what you'll say...when he asks you to marry him?"

"Now's not a good time for this discussion," I told him, stifling a yawn. "I'm too tired, Baron."

He nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry. It's just... Don't hurt him, Maya. You're the only person I know who can do that."

I didn't fall asleep after he left. No, I stayed awake, watching the sun's descent outside the windows. My mind was too aware for my body to sleep.

***

It was my phone that woke me up, vibrating with a text under my pillow.

I stirred, blinking my eyes in the near-darkness. The light from the hallway outside my room came in through the glass slats above the closed door, and a sense of déjà vu blanketing me when I heard soft snoring coming from the chair at my bedside.

I stuck my hand under my pillow, retrieving my phone, and saw that it was 2:37 in the morning and someone had sent me a text that clearly wasn't meant for me. My name wasn't Mike and I so wasn't in the mood for a booty call. Sighing, I set my phone on the bedside table this time before moving aside slightly to make room for one other person on the narrow hospital cot.

"Jacob," I hissed, knowing that any yelling would ensure that any of the night staff would come running. "Jake, wake up."

The snoring continued. I reached under my pillow once again and took out one of the many Cosmopolitans my aunt, Aimee, thought I was into. I flung it at Jake, wincing when the magazine hit his head before hitting the floor.

"What the fuсk," he mumbled sleepily, rubbing at his forehead with the palm of his hand. His eyes focused on me. "What was that for?"

"You weren't waking up," I replied primly, throwing open the covers. "Come and lie on the bed with me."

I didn't have to tell him twice. With great effort, he heaved himself up onto his feet and onto the bed, hoisting his legs onto the bed and under the covers. He took up too much room, and I either had to latch myself onto him, or fall off the bed – and I just couldn't take any more pain. In the end, he pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me so that I was half on him, and half on the bed. I was absolutely positive that he was hurting himself badly by doing this, but then again, I knew he wanted it that way.

I threw my uninjured arm around him, my fingers clinging to his gown. "You really snuck out of your room to see me," I said – a statement, not a question. "Only you, Jacob. Only you."

He didn't say anything for the longest time. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath my ear and I could feel his fingers sifting through my tangled hair. I wanted to close my eyes and enjoy this, but I couldn't. I was too aware, too alert, and there was so much I wanted to say but I just didn't know where to start.

"I want to look at you." His voice still had that hoarseness to it, but I could still hear the emotion it. "Is that okay? Is it okay if I...if I look at you?"

"Look at me?" Confusion filled my voice. I raised my head, staring at him. "You're looking at me, Jacob."

"No," he said abruptly. "Underneath."

I swallowed, understanding. "Why?"

"I have to. I have to see what I did. I have to see how I hurt you."

I let out a breath. "You didn't hurt me."

"Yes," he growled. "I did this to you."

He was breathing heavily, his eyes filled with so much pain that I was positive was reflected in my own eyes. I wanted to say no, to say that it didn't matter, but I hadn't even mustered up the courage to examine my body yet. I was too scared. I was a coward.

So I nodded my assent, once, and I lay back down, flat on my back.

Jake turned onto his side, one hand gently drawing the covers down. He stopped mid-thigh. I closed my eyes when I felt his fingers on the hem of the flimsy gown and released a breath I didn't know I was holding when he raised the fabric up my thighs and the cold night air bit into my bare skin. I heard him inhale sharply, likely seeing the places where James McNally had knifed me. The cuts weren't that deep, Dr. Anderson had assured me, and so the bandages could come off. I was sure that there were ugly lines and bruising on my skin, and that was what Jacob would think he had done to me.

There was the place on my side where Roisin McNally had stabbed me and damaged my kidney. It was bandaged up, and Jake couldn't see what the stitching looked like underneath, but I felt his fingers there, feather-light.

There was the place on my upper right arm where Roisin McNally had cut me, drawing so much blood it was unreal. That was still covered in dressing, and when I moved, I could feel the stitches moving, too.

And then there was my face. It was unavoidable, looking at it. I saw my face in the glass panels of the elevator when Megan wheeled me up and down to the ICU. I saw the awful discoloration, the tiny cuts where the skin had broken when McNally had bashed my face repeatedly into concrete. Being in an induced coma for over a week meant that I had missed how swollen my face had certainly been.

I didn't want to have to see Jake's face when he looked at mine – really looked at mine – but then I heard him sobbing. It started off low in his chest, and soon enough it became the loud, agonized cries of a wounded animal. I had to open my eyes right then, and when I did, he buried his face into the crook of my neck, wetting my skin.

I lay there, as stiff as a plank, as he cried about everything. I stared up at the ceiling, at the shadows that played across it. I listened to him cry, I listened to him apologize, again and again, until the words began to not make any sense, until the words lost their meaning.

Eventually, I dug my fingers into his hair, holding him to me, whispering for him to ssh again and again, until that lost its meaning, too.

Only when the first streaks of the peach-and-gold dawn broke over the horizon did we both succumb to sleep once more.

***

Jake's visit to my room had taken its toll on him, so instead, I was the one who made the daily trips down to his room. I was on so many pain pills that I was scared that I would become addicted but nothing – nothing – took away my pain like being in Jake's arms did. It sounded like something cheesy out of a book or movie, but it was the truth. Simply being in bed with him, not saying anything, holding each other – that was the best medicine.

"Do you think you could ever forgive me?"

Breakfast had come and gone, and now we could lie in bed in peace – until, of course, he broke that peace by asking me something I didn't know how to answer.

I lay with my back to him and with each breath he took, I felt his chest press against my back.

"Forgive you for what, exactly, Jacob?"

"Everything."

"For going after the McNallys and starting all of this?" I swallowed hard. "I don't know if my nightmares will ever stop."

I was glad that he didn't apologize.

"Do you know what's crazy? I almost killed two people, Jacob." I squeezed my eyes shut from the memory. "It was either me, or them – kill, or be killed – and in those split seconds where I had to decide if I wanted to die, or not, I finally understood your world. I didn't want to die, and so I had to kill. For as long as I live, I'll never forget that."

Jake's arms around me tightened slightly at my revelation. I didn't know what was going on in his head. I turned so that we were lying face to face, and I put a hand out, letting my fingers wipe the tears glistening on his bristly cheeks.

We were both surprised when I moved my face closer and kissed him on the lips.

"Yes," I said after a while, "I can forgive you. I have forgiven you."

He released a breath. "Maya, I don't want to be this...person anymore. I don't want to have this anger in my heart when I'm not with you. I don't...I don't want to lose you."

"It doesn't just happen overnight," I whispered to him. I was only beginning to realize that.

"I know that," he said, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. "Just like I know how much I love you."

I smiled. "I love you, too, Ripper."

We stayed on the bed until his respiratory therapist came in – like clockwork, right before lunch – and I had to go. It was only the next day that I was being discharged and could go home – wherever that was now.

Don't leave me, Jake had said days ago, but I would.

Baron solved the question of where I was going to stay by showing up with Aimee and announcing that my bedroom at Jake's house was waiting. I could kiss my room in Iris's apartment goodbye, as far as he was concerned.

I didn't fight that.

"You gonna tell my brother you're being discharged?" Baron wanted to know, allowing me to lean against him as we made our way to the elevator, while my aunt carried the few items I had, including the few flowers that were still blooming strong.

I smiled. "I texted him, actually."

Being discharged today. Be good and get better. See you when you get out on good behavior. I love you, I'd sent to him, not expecting a text back.

I love you harder, silver, was what had made my phone buzz in the pocket of my sweats.

Author's Note

Next update: May 27

So yeah, Jake has learned that autocorrect can be your friend (+)

Jake isn't going to let go of this guilt anytime soon (-)

This book is ending soon! (+/-)

Now, a lot of people have asked me who I picture as Maya, and the truth is, I've never pictured a celebrity. When I'm writing, I want to create the character from scratch. But cutthisout once mentioned who she pictures as Maya, and the woman so closely resembles the description, that I've never forgotten her. Google the gorgeous Denise Vasi.

And before I go, you can now catch me on the fun writing/blogging site, Prose! It's super addictive! You can also check out a sneak-peek of a steamy, funny (weird combo, I know) quickie I'm sharing there called, 'Inferno'.

https://theprose.com/KimberLeeWP

https://theprose.com/post/63199/inferno-short-story-coming-soon