Scared of Beautiful (24 page)

She understands. We just stare at each other for a while. “If I wasn’t so worried about you almost being dead, I would probably kill you,” she says sternly. I prepare for the verbal assault. “What the hell were you thinking, Jackson? You could have been killed! You might still end up in jail! What the fuck man?” Jade stands and walks over to the door.

“Where are you going?” I ask hoarsely.

“To get you some water!” she practically screams, and shuts the door.

I really did fuck up good and proper this time. The nurse that comes in to give me my medication and check my vitals looks down at the handcuffs and immediately her attitude changes to one of contempt. She doesn’t need to say anything, and she doesn’t.
We both know I’m scum
. The Valium she gives me takes effect, and I fall asleep reliving the blood bath I had a hand in.

Maia

I decided to tidy the apartment before Blake brings dinner over. I even manage to apply the smallest amount of makeup, and change out of my Ugg boots and track pants. Just as I’m about to vacuum the floors, the shrill ring of my cell startles me.
JADE
. The name flashes across the screen. I should answer it. I’ve been stewing over the way our conversation ended yesterday, and just before the unanswered call diverts to my voicemail, I pick up the phone and press answer.

“Hi,” I say in a small voice.

“Thank God you answered Maia!” Jade’s voice is high pitched. Panicked.

My stomach immediately bottoms out. Nothing usually perturbs Jade in this way. “What’s wrong Jade?” I ask quickly.

“It’s Jackson,” she begins. Before she can continue, the phone slides from my hands and lands with a thump on the carpet. I scramble to retrieve it with my trembling hands, hoping she’s still on the line.

“He’s been shot. He’s okay but he’s in the hospital,” she says somberly. “But he’s okay?” I repeat. The thought of Jackson hurt causes an ache in my heart that threatens to rip open inside my chest.

“There’s something else, Maia,” Jade continues. I listen in tortured silence. “He’s being charged with armed robbery. As soon as he is well enough, they’ll move him to the prison and formally charge him in court. There were two people killed. He may also be looking at accessory to murder…” Jade’s voice breaks as she trails off the end of the sentence.

Jackson didn’t do that. Not my Jackson. I know him, he’s too good. He would never do that
.

“Maia, please come down here. I need you. He needs you,” Jade begs.

“Okay,” I say, almost crying at the desperation in Jade’s voice. “I’ll fly out in the morning, I promise.”

“Thank you,” she says softly.

“Jade,” I say quickly before she hangs up, “tell him I’m coming, and tell him…” I can’t finish the sentence. I want to say
tell him I love him,
but the words don’t come out.

“I know,” Jade says, before ending the call.

Screw the vacuuming
. I grab my cell and dial my corporate attorney’s private line, telling her to send her best criminal lawyer to Atlanta in the morning to represent Jackson. After authorizing coverage of all expenses incurred, I text Jade to get the hospital and room details before relaying the information to the law firm.
Jackson will come home with me.
He’s alive, and I can fix everything else. I may hate my money at times, but today I will gladly use every cent to buy his shot at freedom and our last chance together.

As I’m yanking an overnight bag from the closet, the doorbell chimes.
Shit!
I forgot all about Blake. I walk over to the door and open it with every intention of asking him to leave.

“Hi,” I say pleasantly.

Blake eyes the bag in my hands before replying. “Hi. Going somewhere?” he asks.

“In the morning. It’s kind of an emergency.” I reply. “I’m sorry, Blake. I have to pack.”

“You can’t let the best Indian food in Providence go to waste,” he says, holding up a white paper bag with the divine smell of coriander and cumin permeating from within.

My stomach growls in anticipation. “Okay,” I say moving aside for him to enter. “But not too long.”

Blake nods before following me in to the dining room. I feel bad for Blake. I have treated him horribly since he was unfortunate enough to run into me. Yet he still insists on seeking out my company. He’s right about one thing. The Indian takeout is easily the best in the city, possibly even the country. I forgot how much I had missed eating these past few days.

“You’re really distracted,” Blake says.

“I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind,” I apologize.

“Will this help?” he asks, holding up a very expensive bottle of red wine.

“No thanks, “ I say, remembering how lacking in inhibition I was the last time I drank.

“Look, Maia,” Blake says seriously, eying me from across the table. “I can tell you’re really into this Jackson guy. I’m not trying to intrude on that. I promise. I think that you are smart and funny and absolutely beautiful, but I also know that your feelings are somewhere else. I just want us to be friends.” I look at Blake to gauge if this is a roundabout way of inciting the removal of my clothing via sweet words, but he looks truly sincere. I nod, grateful for the offer.

Blake and I continue to talk across the table. As promised, he is the perfect gentleman, and before long I actually start to feel comfortable. As we’re moving the plates into the kitchen, we hear a sharp knocking at the door.

“Expecting someone?” Blake asks.

“No,” I say, confused. I dry my hands and walk over to the door. Nothing could prepare me for what stands on the other side.

“There’s the illegitimate little girl I raised.” My father’s voice drips with hate and sarcasm. As he speaks, the acrid smell of whiskey and cigars wafts across the threshold.

“What do you want?” I ask though gritted teeth. “And how did you find me?”

“I, no, I should say we, have an announcement,” my father sneers before reaching into the hallway and pulling my mother next to him. Her cheeks are tear stained, her eyes bloodshot and she trembles as he grips her wrist. I glance backwards to see Blake end a call on his phone and walk over to the door.

“Everything okay?” he asks dubiously as he spies my mother.

My father pushes past us, dragging my mother along with him. She looks utterly destroyed, broken in every way possible, and my heart breaks when her eyes meet mine. Her eyes send a thousand silent apologies. I know how this goes. I’ve lived it so many times before. My heart beats uncomfortably in my chest as I wait for the escalation to happen.

“Well, well, are we entertaining?” my father scoffs sardonically. “Guess it’s true what they say, whoredom is genetic. Like mother like daughter, I see.”

Blake takes a step forward and I catch his hand, noticing the handle of a pistol tucked into my father’s waistband. I look up at him, pleading for him to stop, and thankfully he gets the message.

My father stands and casts an eye over the apartment. “Nice to see what my money buys,” he laughs. “Or is it his?” He points at Blake and addresses him. “How much does she charge an hour?”

Blake’s jaw tightens, and I panic as I wonder how much self-control he has left. His eyes are furious, murderous even.

“Well, since the whole family is here, time for the news. We’re getting remarried. Renewing our vows. Putting on a big party and you’re all invited,” my father continues, sweeping his free hand out in a mock fervor. “See I have a reputation to uphold, and your mother here is fucking it up by being a runaway.”

I have stayed silent for too long, and pistol or not, I have to speak. I ignore him and talk directly to my mother. “Walk away, you don’t need to do this,” I say to her simply.

“Oh but she does,” my father retorts. “Because if she doesn’t, this will happen.” He yanks her into him and pushes her into the wall, before delivering a slap so violent that it causes her to fall sideways. The world moves in slow motion as her head connects with the corner of my marble hallway table. A small trickle of blood drips from her temple onto the carpet as she lands. A scream gets caught in my throat. “You bitch!” my father yells as Blake rushes over to my mother. He grabs the pistol and waves it unsteadily towards my face. “You’re going to tell them you did this. And I tried to stop you. After we get rid of the witnesses.” He motions with the gun to Blake. I avert my eyes so as not to look over my father’s shoulder at the two armed policemen flanking the doorway.

“Put the weapon down!” one of them yells.

Blake immediately pulls out his phone and dials for an ambulance, as my father startles and drops the gun to the ground with a hard thud. Blake continues to check my mother’s vital signs as I rush over, tears streaming down my face.

“Is she okay?” I sob.

“I can’t say yet,” he says solemnly. “The ambulance is on the way.” He reassures me minutely that she still has a pulse, and I hold her hand. The minutes feel like hours as we wait for the paramedics. When they arrive, they immediately move her to a stretcher and into the ambulance.

Blake and I scramble down to his BMW parked out on the street and race behind the ambulance to the hospital. When we arrive, they tell me that she will go straight to get a CT scan, and that I should wait in the designated area. Blake grabs my hand and leads me through the locked doors using his access card, and we situate ourselves in one of the intern lounges to wait.

“How did the police know to come?” I say vacantly, trying to sip on a coffee. Then it hits me. “That call you made. You called them.”

Blake nods. “I have seen my share of aggressive people in hospitals,” he says. “Plus, I was all out of heavy duty sedatives.”

I laugh at his joke. “Thank you for being there,” I say, my eyes welling up with tears. Blake pulls me into a warm hug and just holds me there.
My knight in shining armor
. Too bad I can never love him.
Jackson
. I had forgotten all about him with everything going on. My heart seizes painfully. He can’t be my priority. Not now.

After about an hour of waiting, a nurse pops her head into the door and I jump up anxiously. It’s not news about my mother. It’s two detectives there to take our statements. They inform me that many of my father’s threats were overheard by the two policemen who arrested him as they came up the stairs. Blake gives an informal statement, as do I. The detectives tell me that it is almost certain that he’ll do time for assault and grievous bodily harm. What he says next stops my heart. That if she dies, the charge will be upgraded to murder. If she
dies
.

Blake puts an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s not make assumptions like that detective, not until we hear from the doctors,” he says flatly. After they tell us to make our way to the police station to give a formal statement when we can, the detectives leave.

I fall asleep curled on the couch in Blake’s arms. It’s so easy here with him. So easy to imagine a life of being loved in simplicity. No baggage, just a fresh start.
Jackson
. Before I drift off, his face floats into my mind. I push it out.
He didn’t want me. He didn’t care enough to stay here, and by leaving he put himself in a situation where he could land in jail. He didn’t care enough about me to make sure he came back.
The lawyer will help him. Jade will understand.

The next thing I feel is a small nudge against my arm. “Maia,” Blake whispers.

I open my eyes to see an older, grey haired man with a pleasant demeanor and a concerned look on his face. “Maia, I’m Dr. Carson.”

I shake his outstretched hand. “Dr Carson?” I say looking at Blake.

“My father,” he nods with a smile.

“Your mother is out of surgery, Maia, and she has been moved to the ICU,” Dr Carson says clinically.

“Is she okay, can I see her?” I ask anxiously.

“Not just yet,” he continues. “The fall caused a bleed in her brain. We managed to drain it and relieve the pressure, but she’s in an induced coma so that we can monitor for any further effects of the trauma. In a few days when we’re satisfied, we will attempt to take her out of the coma, and pray for the best.”

“The best?” I ask.

“At the moment, with the drugs she’s on and after the recent trauma, she is showing less brain activity than we’d like to see. But it’s early still. Too soon to tell much. Take her home, you can come back in the morning,” Dr Carson says to Blake. He nods and gives his father a brief hug before we leave.

Blake insists on staying in my apartment, and relegates himself to the couch after he’s sure that I’m resting.
He really is the perfect gentleman
, I think as sleep eludes me.
Jackson
. I push the thought away.
No.
Worrying about Jackson and his games is the reason why I was so self-absorbed that I forgot about my mother. He was right. We are no good for each other. Before I drift off, I take the sim card out of my phone and place it into my bedside drawer, and as I close the drawer, I ceremoniously close off any contact I have with Jackson. The idea forces my gut to wrench, but my priorities have been wrong for too long. Maybe in time, Blake will become something more than a friend. And I could learn to love him, too.