Charade (28 page)

             
“Live your life,” she finally says. I have to look up to see her because I don’t know what she means.

             
She sighs. Bites her chapped lip. “You can do anything you want, Colton. That’s all I’ve ever wanted you to know. You’re better than me. Better than your father. You can have anything. Be anything. Do anything…but live
your
life. If you decide college isn’t what you want, don’t do it because of me. I want you to find whatever you can that makes you happy and you hold it. You grab onto it with all your might. If I ever pushed you into anything it’s because I wanted you to know you’re better than selling drugs, going to jail. Nickle and diming it like I’ve had to do.”

             
Selling drugs. Going to jail.

             
Does that sound familiar? The things I hated my father for.

             
Her eyes hold mine intensely. “Just be good…be happy. That’s all I want for you. And for you to know how one-of-a-kind you are. You are strong, loyal, caring. You make that girl out there smile like she has the world in the palm of her hand.” She pauses, breathing hard from the effort of so much talking. Then she whispers, “You gave me the world.”

             
I’m begging myself to say something, but I can’t find the words. They’re locked inside me. Each time they try and slip through, a door closes on them, blocking them out.

             
“You gave me the world,” she says again. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever done that means something.”

             
“You made me who I am,” is what I manage to say. I hope it’s enough. Hope it’s right. When I look at her, her face is wet. Tears giving moisture to her lips that are turned up in a smile.

***
             

             
Hours go by. I don’t even know how the hell many. They pass as she sleeps and breath
e
s those raspy breaths. She hasn’t woken up again for so long. It’s the middle of the night now. All I have to do is look at the clock, but I don’t have the energy.

             
Cheyenne’s standing by the window, looking out at the darkness. There’s only a small light next to mom’s bed that’s on. A streetlight outside shines against my dancer.

             
Looking at her, I suddenly need her. To feel her and talk to her. She jumps when
the
chair squeaks as I stand. Without a word I walk over to her and pull her into my arms. Bury my face in her neck as she clutches at m
y
back.

             
And somehow…I feel better. Still broken and lost and angry, but not so alone too.

             
I step forward and Cheyenne backward. She leans against the wall and just lets me hold her. Holds me. “I’m losing her,” pushes past my lips, into her neck. “I’m fucking losing her. I don’t want to lose anyone else I love. I don’t want to lose you.” I don’t know where the words are suddenly coming from, but I can’t make them stop. Can’t reel them in. “I’m a prick half the time, but
you make me better. You make me
happy. I don’t want to lose you. I love you. I don’t want to lose you.”

             
“I love you too. I’m not going anywhere. We make each other better.”

             
I pull away from her. Put my hands on her hips. Dig my nails in because I need to hold her as tight as I can. And then lean forward and kiss her. It’s slow and healing. She moans and I swallow it down. Taste every part of her mouth. Give her mine. Push against her. Pull her to me.

             
“I want to be someone,” I say when I pull away. “I don’t know who. I just know I don’t want to be the guy who sells weed. The one who busts his phone against a tree when he realizes he fell for a girl. Who goes to jail and takes it out on her because she’s there for his mom when he wasn’t.”

             
“You are more than that,” she tells me.

             
“I don’t know if I am, but I want to be.”

             
“My mom loved me,” Cheyenne says, shocking me. “I don’t know if she meant to leave me, but she loved me. And I’m not perfect. I don’t want to be. I have panic attacks I don’t deal with, but I need to. I will.”

             
I kiss her again because she’s so fucking strong. In this moment, in the half-dark room while my mom sleeps on the bed next to us, we make our vows to each other. To stop pretending. To grow up. To do what the hell we need to do to not be the people who had to play a fucked up game of charades to fall in love.
 

We’re both quiet. Mom’s breathing is the only sound in the room. We lean against the wall, holding each other.

             
“I couldn’t do this without you, Tiny Dancer.”

             
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

             
I take a couple deep breaths before saying, “I don’t want to tell her goodbye.” But I have to. I know it. Know she’s probably waiting for it.

             
“I know. I’m sorry.”

             
I kiss her again. “I know.”

***

             
Daylight has come and passed again. It’s the next night. Mom hasn’t woken up anymore. Maggie and the hospice nurse come in and out. Give medicine. Sad smiles. Her hand doesn’t hold mine anymore, but I try to hold on tight enough for both of us.

             
I know what I need to do. Every time I open my mouth it won’t come out. So I sit here. Watching her die. Watching her suffer. Waiting.

             
Mom doesn’t make any sounds beside the breaths that sound almost painful.

             
Fucking do it.

             
I look over at Cheyenne and she’s watching me. I try to tell her with my eyes. Let her know that I’m letting her go. She gives me a small nod.

             
I’m scared to fucking death to do this, but proud too. Proud because I’m setting her free. Letting her be in the sunshine.

             
I lean forward, my mouth next to her ear. My words are soft, only for her and
me
.

             
“I lied to you last time you asked, but I want you to know, I’m happy. You never pushed me unless I needed to be pushed. You gave me everything and I swear to God, I’ll make you proud of me. For you…and for me too. I love you…” My voice breaks. The words unlock the damn that held my tears back and I finally cry. Cry for her. For me. For the whole fucking world who is losing her. “I’m
happy
. I’ll be okay. I’ll live for me, but for you too. You don’t have to worry about me. You can go… I have Cheyenne and I fucking love her. Christ. I shouldn’t be cursing right now, but I love her. I do. We’ll be okay.”

             
I swear her hand tightens on mine. Nothing else moves. Her breathing doesn’t change, but I know she hears me. I know she’s proud of me. I’m proud of me.

             
“I love you. I’m okay,” I say again.

             
I lace my fingers with hers and sit on the edge of the bed. I look at Chey and she comes over. She sits behind me, one hand on me and one on Mom.

             
And we wait.

             
Seconds.

             
Minutes.

             
Half an hour.

             
Her breathing slows. Softens.

             
“I’m okay,” I say again. Pick up her wrist. Kiss my name there.

             
One more breath.

             
I wait.

             
And wait.

             
She doesn’t breathe again.

             
She’s gone.

~CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX~

Cheyenne

             
Colt’s silent as the hospice nurse makes a phone call. He’s quiet as Maggie cries. I’m scared to death he’s going to pull away. That he’s going to run. Then I feel like a jerk for even thinking about that. Bev is gone. His mom just died. He just let her go.

             
“I need to get out of here,” he finally says. We leave the apartment and climb into the car. “Can you call Adrian?” He doesn’t look at me when he speaks, so he doesn’t see my nod.

I pick up my cell, call him. “Can you make sure the house is empty?” I ask. I can understand why Colt would want to make sure no one’s there when we get home.

             
“Already done,” Adrian replies.

             
I don’t know how he knew, but it doesn’t matter. “Thanks. We appreciate it.”

             
“Take care of my boy,” I hear him inhale, shake my head, knowing he’s probably sucking weed into his lungs right now.

             
“I will.” I try to put the phone in the cup holder, but it falls between the seats and to the floor. I leave it. It doesn’t matter right now. Nothing does except for Colt.

             
His hand is on my leg the whole way home. I wonder if he needs that connection as much as I do? To know that even though it hurts, there’s still someone by my side. And it has to be even worse for him.

             
As promised, the house looks empty when we get home. Dark. The porch light isn’t even on.

             
Colt lets go of my leg and gets out of the car, but doesn’t move. I wish I knew what to do for him. A way to lessen the pain.

             
Getting out, I walk to the other side of the car.

             
“I can’t believe she’s fucking gone.” He leans me against my car like he did the wall earlier and holds me.

             
His grip eases me. How easy would it be for him to run right now? I did when I found out about my mom and our situation was completely different. But he’s here. With me. Leaning on me and holding me.

             
“I love you,” I tell him.

             
“I—”

             
“—Isn’t that fucking sweet?” A male voice comes from behind us. Colt instantly tenses.

             
“She’s got him whipped. At least you were smart enough to keep someone fun on the side, G.”

             
Colt whips around. I feel the anger rolling off of him.

             
Gregory and three of his friends stand behind us. I smell beer. One of them has a bottle in his hand that he drinks from.

             
I try to wrap my arms around Colt from behind. We don’t need this right now. “Let’s just go.”

He shakes me off.

             
“Going to listen to your girl? Don’t have a big mouth like you did the other day?” This from Gregory.

             
“Please fucking hit me, Pretty Boy. I’m begging you. I won’t even fight back at first,” Colt steps forward. Again I grab his arm and he pulls away.

             
“Don’t do this.” I know this isn’t even fully about Gregory. He wants to hurt because of his mom. He wants to hurt someone else because of her. I look at Gregory and shout, “You have the worst timing ever. Leave him alone.”

             
“Get in the car, Tiny Dancer.” Another step, but I’m right behind him.

             
“What are you guys even doing here?” I stand next to Colt who again tries to push me behind him.

             
“He’s always showing up where we party. Getting in our business so we thought it was time we returned the favor.” My stomach rolls at the sound of Gregory’s voice. I can’t even believe this is him. Was he always like this? Something college has done to him?

             
“Are we just gonna sit around and talk or did you guys come here for a reason?” Colt’s voice is tight as he eggs them on. A few steps and he’s right in front of Gregory, almost nose to nose with him. “You wanted to teach me a lesson, Pretty Boy? Do it.” And then he pushes Gregory.

             
Gregory stumbles backward.

             
“What the fuck. Kick his ass, G!” One of his friends yells.

             
“Don’t let that pussy get the best of you again!” Another says.

             
It all happens so fast from there. Colt pushes me back as Gregory charges, hitting Colt across the middle. They both stumble. Fall backward. I watch him fall in slow motion…down…down. His head cracks loudly on the curb, Gregory on top of him. I scream, but it’s like my body’s gone into some sort of shock from disbelief. This cannot be happening.