Heartbreaker (21 page)

I wake. I’m sweating. Or I think I am. I feel wet. I open my eyes to the dark room. I reach across and switch on the lamp beside my bed. The dampness is coming from the lower half of my body.

Oh no. My baby.

I suck in a breath and pull down the covers and there
’s blood. A lot of blood.

I scream, "No! No! No!"

A sob escapes and I’m dry heaving. It hurts. This really hurts. My stomach is clenching with each sob and I’m sweating and crying. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not now I’ve worked it all out.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry baby. I did want you
.

This is all my fault.

I made this happen.

I should have taken more vitamins, looked after myself better.

I keep crying. I don’t move. I can’t move.

No. No. No.

Please no.

I can’t have lost my baby.

I’m up and dressed ready for work. I need to be normal. To have routine. I don’t want to think about anything else. It’s been two days since it happened. I went to the clinic and they checked me over and confirmed the worst. Said I might bleed for a few more days. Looked at me with a fraction of sympathy for about thirty seconds, and then moved on to the next patient. That’s all I deserved. I didn’t deserve the privilege to be a mom. And it is a privilege. A privilege I wish with all my heart I still had. I feel like a part of me has died, and I can’t mourn. I have nothing to mourn. I’m numb. So numb.

I move robotically about the apartment gathering my things for work. I haven’t cried since the night it happened. The tears won’t come. I won’t let them. I’m about to walk out the door when my cell buzzes. It’s Bennett.

“Hey, you alright pretty girl?”

“Yeah. Just had a migraine yesterday.”

“I was going to come over, but thought you’d want to sleep.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Did you have a good trip?” I try and sound upbeat, but I know my voice is flat.

“Not sure about good, but it was interesting. Anyway I’m just calling to let you know I heard from the police.”

“The police?”

“Yeah. They’ve got your purse from that night you were attacked.”

“No kidding.”

“Usually. But not now. It’s too early.”

I check my cell and realize it’s only half past seven. “Oh, yeah, didn’t realize the time.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“Um … no. I’m ready now, so I’ll go to the precinct before work.”

“Why are you such an early bird? Did you get too much sleep?”

I try to laugh, but don’t really pull it off. “Yeah, lazy, huh?”

“You sure you’re alright, Bales, you sound off.”

I bite my lip to hold back the tears.
Do not cry. Do not cry
.

“Yeah. Look I better go, I’ll see you later.”

I press end, and suck in a large sob, the tears start to fall and I wipe them away quickly.

Hold it together Bailey Ryan.

I go to the bathroom and wash my pasty, ghost like face. There are dark circles under my eyes, but I don’t have the energy to apply much make up. I gloss my lips and pinch my cheeks. I’m not sure if I’ll go into work again today.

After locking the door I head out into the cold winter morning. It’s three buses to get to the police precinct near where I used to live. It takes me nearly an hour and a half to get there. I can’t believe I used to live out here and commute. I go into the old building and find the reception desk. There’s a kind looking white haired police officer behind the counter who greets me with a smile. “Can I help you, young lady?”

I explain about my purse and he walks away and disappears into a back room, returning with my tattered black purse. I nearly cry when I see it. It’s like getting an old friend back again.

“You okay, dear,” the police offi
cer asks. “Is that the wrong purse?”

“No. No. It’s perfect. Thank you so much.”

I don’t want to start crying again, especially not here. I quickly scrawl my signature on the paperwork and make my way out the door, when a voice shouts out from behind, “Bailey. Bailey Ryan.”

Shit. That sounds like … God why is he here?

Not today. I can’t deal with him today. I pretend like I don’t hear him an
d quicken my pace, when I hear footsteps pounding right behind me.

“Hey, Bailey.”

I can’t ignore him any longer, so I turn and try really hard not to roll my eyes. “Luke. Fancy seeing you here.”

He looks terrible. Worse than I do. I presume he’s been involved in some brawl or other. There are purple bruises and dry cuts marking his face. His clothes are dirty and there’s a tear in his black shirt.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

I cross my arms. I don’t have time for his flirtations. “Yeah. What about?”

“You remember those little pink pills.”

Shit. I forgot all about those.

I frown and glance over to see a couple of police officers trudge down the steps. I walk a little further away and Luke follows me.

“I got rid of them,” I whisper.

“Good. That was some wacky shit. Knocked me out for a few days. Felt good at the time, but boy did it give me a massive headache for three days. Just thought I’d warn you. You know in case you wanted to party.”

I scoff and shake my head. That is the absolute last thing on my mind. “Noted. Thanks for the update.”

“Why are you here anyway?” he asks with a frown.

He must think it’s obvious why he is. I hold up my purse. “Got some stolen property back.”

“No shit. I didn't think that ever happened.”

“Must be my lucky day.”

“Must be. You need a ride to work?”

As much as I’m not looking forward to being on a stinky bus for the next hour, I’d rather that, than go anywhere with Luke.

“I’m alright. Looks like you need to go home and change first. I’ll see you round, Luke.”

“Yeah. Guess so
. Oh and Bailey,” I was almost three footsteps away, but out of politeness I turn and wait. “Don’t forget what I said. If you still have the candy, get rid of it. I can always hook you up with better shit.”

I nod. “Thanks for the offer, but not likely. Bye Luke.”

I hop on the next bus and high tail it out of there. I don’t expect I’ll ever return here.

I really have no
desire or reason to now.

I didn’t go into work. I couldn’t. I’ve cleaned the apartment five times. Now I’m standing and staring at the trash pack with my bed linen and pj’s from
that
night. I have to throw it away, but I can’t do it. It would be like throwing away ... I refuse to finish that thought.

My stomach clenches and I rub my hand over my empty stomach. I hug my arms around my middle and fall to the floor. This is hard. It’s really hard. I want to forget. I want the pain to go away.

And image of pink pills pops into my mind.

What did Luke say?
...
Knock you out...

I want to be knocked out.

Without another thought I race to my closet and pull out everything till I find the purse I was using that night. Eventually I find it hidden under a pile of clothes. I’d forgotten all about it till now. And right now I need it, like I need my next breath. I quickly unfasten the clasp and see the plastic bag. I rip it out and go to the kitchen. I’ll need to wash it down with something. I only have a little bottle of margarita mix Bennett gave me for my birthday. That will do. There are four little pink pills, but I don’t want to take too many. I want a trip to the stars not to hospital. I put one on my tongue and swallow a hit of margarita straight from the bottle. I smack my lips together, that seems like an appropriate thing to do. Like I’m a bad ass who does this kind of thing all the time. Yeah right!

I’m on edge, I have no idea how long this will take, but I need to move. Dancing. Yeah, dancing seems like a great idea. I plug in my cell to the little speaker I bought, and crank it up as high as it will go, which I didn’t think was all that high. When suddenly my ears explode. The track pumps out and I imagine a whole series of strobe lights flicking over me. I strip down to my bra and panties. It’s really hot in here. The music consumes me and I sway and start to step out around the room. God, this feels so good. I giggle at the sensation of being near naked in my apartment shaking my ass around, like I'm some disco diva. My whole body is pumped. The energy buzzing all over me is incredible. I start to sing and dance and move and the whole world is exploding with color and light and I’m so, so happy...

Ew ... what is that awful smell? What is that awful taste in my mouth? Holy hell my head feels like I’ve been sledged with an almighty hammer. My mouth is dry and I’m so thirsty. I need to open my eyes. Come on, it's not that hard. But it is. I try really hard to make it happen, but nothing.

“Bales, Bales...”

Bennett? What the hell is he doing here? What happened to the music? To the dancing? I was having a good time. Wasn’t I?

I’m not having a good time now.

Come on eyes, do it. Do it now. I make them flutter and a small glint of bright white light slips in, and it's like I’m being stabbed in the eye with a needle. Ouch! I shut them tight again. That hurts. Everything hurts. I think I’m going to be sick, and judging from the disgusting taste in my mouth, I’m betting I already have been.