Bitter Angel (29 page)

One of the officers speaks in a measured command. “Lower your weapon, or we will take you down.”

Is this for real?
I’ve never heard cops talk like that. Maybe in the movies, but like I deduced earlier, this is no movie. They won’t shoot at us, not when he’s got a gun to my head.

“Lower. Your. Weapon!”

“I said back. The fuck. Off. Or I’ll shoot her. Right now. I won’t think twice!”
Alpha wipes his eyes with his arm. He’s sweating like a farm animal. This grip he has on me is all he has left. I wonder how he’s going to defend himself now. Just the idea makes me laugh. Again.

A tiny giggle becomes a full on body shake. I must be losing it—for real this time.
Well, everyone else is, why not me?

The butt slams into my head. “What the fuck are you laughing at?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

He rubs the sweat off his forehead again. “You want something to laugh at? Here goes, bitch.” He jams the gun into my belly.

I don’t know what he means by this. Maybe he wants to hurt me now instead of kill me. Maybe this way he won’t have a murder charge on his rap?

The laugh plunges right out of me, and my eyes dart for Jay’s again just as I hear the shot and feel a rupture. The bullet hits my lower abdomen. I’m too shocked to make a sound.

A second shot rings out, and Alpha’s arm goes slack around my ribs. I’m free of him. Police are coming at us, Jay is…
where is Jay?
I take two steps to the side, my hands robotically pressed to the hemorrhaging hole in my middle.

Then my focus is suddenly on the ceiling, knees buckling in time for soft hands to catch me and lower me to the ground. Blue eyes capture mine. I want to live there—in those blue eyes. I never want to look away.

Other hands touch me, voices speak through thick layers, and all I know are those blue eyes.

I’m going to pass out.
Aren’t I supposed to be cold or something?
Isn’t that what they always say when the bleeding person is dying on the ground—that they’re cold? I don’t feel cold. I’m just tired. I want to sleep.

How long has it been since I’ve slept? Really slept?

Oh, right. Hours. Since Jay knocked me out.

Jay is saying something.
What are you saying, Jay?
I can’t hear you anymore
. I can’t hear anyone.
Why can’t I hear you, Jay?
No one shot me in the ears.

I feel like I’m about to sink through the floor, not float up out of my body. Is this the end? Are my bitter angel days upon me already? This has always been a possibility, the forefront risk of today’s mania. I even wished for it at one point. Although, I was secretly hoping God would spare me. However, I got my biggest wish. Alpha will be put away, if he lives, and they’ll get the other guys, too. The police have to have found them by now.

I say a prayer in my draining consciousness.

We did it. We stopped him, God, if that is your real name. No disrespect. He won’t be hurting anyone ever again. I hope I did good.

Hello, blue, blue eyes.

I could say a few things to Jay right now. I could relive some precious memory or recite words from the private letter I wrote for him in my mind earlier, but I don’t. I have three words for him. The only ones I know he needs to hear because I don’t have time for more.

While he strokes my hair and says things I can’t hear, I whisper, “I forgive you.”

I don’t hear my voice, but I know I said it by the look in his eyes, the change in his face, the stubborn tears that finally fall. His forehead meets mine, and a tear plops onto each of my cheeks. It reminds me of the dream I had of Heather and Nilah and the bloody tears in my hands that wouldn’t wash away.

Goodbye, blue, blue eyes.

I close my eyes and feel a sudden presence around my shoulders. Again, I’m reminded of the dream. But this presence isn’t like Jay’s hands condemning me. This presence is holding me, embracing me, soothing me as it carries me away into a new dream. Of hands filled with tears and a mournful symphony surrounding mud on a fresh grave. Only now the tears are not bloody. They’re clear. And the grave is not Heather’s or Nilah’s. It’s mine.

My story ends exactly how it began—by waking up. As my eyes adjust to bright white light, I listen first, waiting for new sensations to flood this rockin’ angelical body that I’m supposed to have. But if you think that when you die, it doesn’t hurt like hell, you’re wrong. It does. Holy Mother of God does it hurt.

Um, hello? Aren’t we supposed to leave behind our human bodies in exchange for a brand-spanking-new pain-free one? Where are all the celestial beings hanging from the rafters with their harps and lyres and stuff?

Something isn’t right. Everything is blurry and white. My entire body radiates with pain, but I can’t really move it.

Maybe your not dead, doofus
.

There’s that damn voice again, trying to tell me what to do.
Isn’t that supposed to go away once you’re dead?

Unless…

Huh.

Sensations do come back to me, one by one. I can move my fingertips. Beneath them is a cotton knit blanket, the very kind I was hoping to feel not so long ago.

Holy crap, I’m in the hospital!

What I’d longed to hear before—that first morning after—finally comes to me. The pressure of the pulse ox on my index finger, medical tape plucking at the fine hairs on my arm, the needle of an IV stinging from my movement, the beeping of some monitor to my right. There’s a pressure from a hand holding my left. As I wiggle my fingers, the pressure increases.

“Guys, she’s waking up.” He’s excited, but he tries to keep his voice low.

Jay? I hear you. Where are you?

I wiggle my toes. I’m not paralyzed, but—
oh mama
—there’s a deep ache sitting on top of me. I want to pop my eyes open, but they won’t, so I peel
them apart one at a time. I see colors, swirling smudges like a Renoir
painting.

I hear a whisper from the most beautiful voice in the world. “It’s me, Lil. I’m here.” His nose is pressed against my cheek. “We’re all here.”

Who’s all?

I blink Jay into focus. “Hi,” I barely croak. I try to clear my throat. That small action makes the ache burn.

“Hi, baby.” He smiles big, but the rest of his face is set with worry. “Don’t move too much. They’ve got you on a lot of painkillers, but you’re still pretty fragile.”

Fragile. Ugh.
Never much cared for that word. It doesn’t fit me.

I blink a few more times and see two clusters of people. Heather and Nilah are at the foot of the bed. My parents are to my right.

“Mom? Dad?”

Mom strokes my IV arm. Dad is just behind her, tightly gripping her shoulders.

“Jay called us,” Mom says.

Dad pipes in. “We’ve been here since Saturday morning.”

Their eyes are ringed in red, and their faces are tired, rivaling their appearance after a heavy-duty scuffle. Though I have a feeling they haven’t been fighting for once.

“Us too,” Heather adds.

Her face and Nilah’s match my parents. Nilah is quiet, looking totally traumatized just having to be here. I can’t imagine what’s going through her mind right now after the way I acted yesterday.
Yesterday?

I glance back at Jay. “What is today?”

“Monday.”

I’ve been asleep for two days?

Then I remember. “Your leg.”

He knocks on the giant black plastic brace doohickey wrapped around his leg. “I was only in surgery a couple hours. Not like you.” He touches my face. “They had you in there for over eight.”

“But you’re going to be just fine,” Mom’s loud voice interjects.

I wince from the volume.

“Leslie,” Dad barks.

Tears spring to my eyes. “Don’t. Please. Not here.”

Jay shoots them a look that says,
Get lost
. He’s defended me in the past, and my parents know this is his turf. I’d choose him over them any day.

They shrink away from my bedside.

Mom says in a softer tone, “We’ll give you two some time.” She takes Dad’s hand, which surprises me. They’re almost never affectionate. “Let’s go get something to eat,” she says to Dad. He seems hesitant to leave.

Jay tells them, “I’ll call you in a bit.”

Even though they’ve fought my entire life, I know they love me, and they love each other in their own twisted way. I’ve just never figured out why. Is what they have worth fighting for? I mean, fighting in a good way, not what comes naturally. It’s been the giant mystery of my life.

“We’ll go eat too,” Heather offers. “Back in like an hour?” She looks to Jay for approval.

“Sure,” he says.

She tosses me a famous big-hearted Heather smile and takes Nilah’s hand. Nilah follows like an obedient child, her eyes trailing me until she’s gone.

I return my attention to Jay, unshed tears still clinging to my lower lids. “I’ve been asleep for two days?”

He nods and strokes my hair like he did when I thought I was bleeding to death. “Yeah.”

Wow. It’s been two days since I thought my life was over, since I was…well, it’s too much to think about really.

“And…?” I can’t say their names.

“Turner’s still here. He has a couple of broken ribs, a broken nose, and I don’t know what else. They said they’ll probably release him in a few days. He keeps asking about you. Said he’d come see you. And…” He can’t say it either.
Alpha.
“He’s on watch at another hospital. They pumped that drug out of him, whatever it was. No permanent damage. He has a gunshot wound in the shoulder. As soon as he’s physically capable, they’re prepping him for arraignment, a bail hearing, and then a trial. Eventually. The charges aren’t official yet. The police are waiting for our statements, then they’ll put it all together with the DA.” He pauses to make sure I’m getting everything. The corners of his eyes crease.

“It’s okay,” I tell him. Tears streak my cheeks.

He sighs, carefully snuggling my shoulder. “God, Lil,” he groans. “I thought I lost you.”

I weakly squeeze his hand, noticing my wrist has a ring of bruises around it. It was the one that couldn’t support me when Alpha took me down that last time in the alley. I wonder how many other bruises I have that my eyes don’t have access to right now.

My voice is shaky. “But you didn’t. We survived.”

So to speak. The real damage—emotional and mental stuff—will take more than a hospital stay to heal. And more than time.

He tips his head back and gazes into my eyes. “Yeah. We did.”

So many emotions, hovering just under the surface, are waiting to spill. I’m tired all of a sudden.

A nurse pops in. “Well, hello there.” She’s older and plump, wearing a smile so bright I want to shield my eyes. I would if I could move my arms. I can’t take this much happiness right now. She totters around, tinkering with the IV, my chart, and the monitors. “How ya feelin’, darlin’?”

“Like shit.”

Jay laughs softly, shaking his head. I can tell he’s thinking,
Same old Lil
.

The nurse doesn’t laugh. Her smile remains pasted. I wonder if she heard me. Finally, she stops making dizzying circles around me and stills by the side where my parents were a minute ago. “How’s the pain? We’ve got you on a medium dose of morphine right now, ten milligrams every couple of hours. We can certainly increase that if need be, but it’ll make you sleepy.”

Too late. I don’t think a dump truck of morphine will dull this pain anyway. “I’m okay for now. I’ll let you know.”

She shows off a set of perfectly white teeth. “Sure. Just press that buzzer if you need anything.” She pops a pen back in her pocket. “I’ll page the doctor to let her know you’re awake. She’ll stop in and go over the extent of your injuries with you as well as recovery and such.”

“Okay.”
Now please leave so I can be alone with my boyfriend.

She nods. “Okay.” Then she leaves the room.

Jay chuckles again. “She’s a jolly one. Hell of a lot more than the night one. Can’t fault the woman though. At least she manages a smile after an entire day in this place.”