“Lexie –”
I interrupted him. “My parents were crackheads, I was born addicted. Did you know that?” I asked and didn’t wait for an answer. “No. You didn’t. I don’t talk about it, I didn’t do it but still, it’s embarrassing. Baby born in a crackhouse addicted to crack. That was me. I made the papers just being born. Bad luck right off the bat. Luck so bad, it hit the papers day one I was on this earth. And Lady Luck wasn’t done. I told you my Mom OD’ed. And I told you she never held me. They took me away from her and she didn’t even notice, never came back to take a shot, never came back to see her baby, never came just to hold me. She probably held a million crack pipes to her mouth but she never held her baby. Not once. I also told you my Dad got killed by a loan shark, owed so many people for the dope he was smoking, he went to a loan shark and then couldn’t pay him. My grandfather hated him so much, he’d never let my Dad see me and he never did see me, my Dad didn’t. Then again, he never even tried. Then there was Granddad, you know all about him being a dick. My first boyfriend a pimp. His drug dealer best friend used me as an errand girl.” I shook my head. “I’m done. So fucking done. I have no more to give. And you. You need to find a woman who’s got a lot to give, see you through, whatever fucked up shit you decide to do, find a woman who’s got what it takes to stand by you.”
“I’m playin’ it Tate’s way,” he told me and my heart leaped.
But I didn’t let on.
Three week crash course in pokerface and I found I was a natural.
“Good,” I replied immediately but emotionlessly. “I’m glad for you. That’s smart.”
He responded to my tone or, more accurately, his body did and I knew this when I felt it go still all around me.
Then he whispered, “Lexie –” but I cut him off again.
“Ty, just go. This is done. It’s done. It was done the first time you told me my pussy came with a chain but that used to be me, thinking Lady Luck would eventually smile at me. She doesn’t. She hasn’t. She never will. I’m her favorite toy. Keep sticking my hand out hoping to grasp onto something good and she keeps slapping it. That shit stings. Not gonna stick my hand out there.”
His body again moved, drew me deeper and he started, “Mama –” but I didn’t let him continue.
“Tate found me, he can find Ella. You get the divorce papers to her; she’ll get them to me. I’ll give you one last thing, Ty, my signature but that’s the last thing you, or anyone, gets out of me.”
His head moved, his chin pulling my hair back then his mouth found my ear and he whispered, “Baby, please, God, just please fuckin’ listen to me.”
And that’s when I lost it. I couldn’t take much more. Not without breaking and I couldn’t break again. The last one left too many scars, too many wounds that didn’t heal in a way I knew they never would. I couldn’t be torn apart again. There was no way in hell I’d survive it.
So I lost it.
But a different way.
“Just go,” I hissed. “Fuck, Ty, if I make the decision that I want to just be, can’t I just fucking be without all this fucking bullshit? My grandfather controlled my life and with that, I had no choice. Then Ronnie did and with that, I did but did I make the right choice? No. Then Shift controlled it and my choices were limited but I still didn’t make the right ones. Can you give me one fucking thing in this nightmare and let me make my own fucking choice?”
When I was done speaking I felt his body had gone still again, stone still.
And silent.
Then he asked quietly, “Nightmare?”
“Nightmare,” I replied firmly.
Ty didn’t move.
By a miracle, I held it together.
Then he moved but it was to rest his chin on my shoulder and I closed my eyes because I needed him to go, go, go so I could fall apart again on my own.
Then he said, “Your nightmare, mama, was my dream.”
My heart clenched.
He kept going. “Never had a home until you gave me one.”
My breath started sticking.
“Never had anyone give to me the way you gave to me.”
My breath stopped sticking and clogged.
“Never thought of findin’ a woman who I wanted to have my baby.”
Oh God.
“Never had light in my life, never, not once, I lived wild but I didn’t burn bright until you shined your light on me.”
Oh God.
“Whacked, fuckin’ insane, but, at night, you curled in front of me, didn’t mind I did that time that wasn’t mine ‘cause it meant I walked out to you.”
He had to stop. He had to.
He didn’t.
“Your nightmare,” he whispered, turned his head and against my neck he finished, “my dream.”
Then he kissed my neck, gave me one last squeeze of his long, strong, powerful arms then he let me go, shifted back, got to his feet and I heard his footsteps walking away.
When I couldn’t hear them anymore I opened my eyes and saw sea.
I didn’t move for a long time and anyone studying me from the huge, cement patio with rusted lounge chairs would think I was lost in my thoughts not sitting in the sand with rivers of salt flowing down my face.
When the tears were spent, I let the breeze dry my cheeks until they felt scratchy and tight.
Then I got up and wandered up the beach, up the stairs to the patio and to my room. I needed to call Bessie in hers and talk about dinner. I didn’t eat much but she’d wait even if I picked at my food while she ate hers and I knew this because that’s what she’d been doing for weeks.
I dug my key out of my back pocket, put it in the lock, twisted it and walked into my room. The sun was setting but it was still light. When the door closed behind me, I couldn’t see anything because the drapes were pulled.
I flipped the switch, took two steps into the room then froze and stared at the bed.
A pile of rolled bills of cash sat in the center of my bed next to four, distinctive-colored boxes.
My eyes darted around the room, half expecting Ty to walk out of the bathroom, pop out from behind a curtain.
The other half, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, was hoping.
He didn’t walk out of the bathroom and he certainly didn’t pop out from behind a curtain.
And because he didn’t, my legs gave out from under me, I sunk again to my ass, shoved my face between my knees and cried fucking more fucking rivers of fucking salt.
��
Chapter Fifteen
Eleven Hours
Three weeks later…
My cell ringing woke me up.
I rolled, grabbed it from the nightstand, looked at the display and it said, “Ella Calling”.
I blinked, groggy, confused, it had to be the middle of the night.
Why was Ella calling?
Shit. This couldn’t be good.
I flipped it open and put it to my ear. “Ella, honey, what’s up? Is everything okay?”
Silence then, soft, gentle, trembling, “Oh baby.”
My heart skipped then stuttered to a halt, I shot up to sitting in the bed, the phone pressed tight to my ear.
“Ella?” I called when she said no more.
Now my voice was trembling.
“Lexie, precious…” she trailed off and again said no more.
“Ella,” now my body was trembling, “what’s happened? Is it Honey?”
Silence then, so soft it was near a coo, “No, baby, it’s Ty.”
My body stopped trembling because it had started shaking.
“What’s Ty?” I whispered.
I heard her draw in a deep breath then, “Got a call from a man named Julius.”
Oh God. Oh no. Oh God no.
“Told me Ty was out in that fancy car of his, goin’ too fast…”
Oh God. Oh no. Oh God no!
“Lost control, wasn’t wearin’ a seatbelt.”
He didn’t. Ty didn’t. I’d nag him and he’d
do it but I had to nag him.
Live wild, mama.
I closed my eyes.
Oh God.
Oh no.
Oh fucking God, no.
“Lexie, baby, you there?”
No. No. I wasn’t. I wasn’t anywhere. I was lost. Totally lost. More lost even than the lost I’d been for a month and a half.
Lost forever.
“Yes,” I lied, opening my eyes.
“He… he…” another audible breath, “he’s alive, precious, but they say he’s not gonna last long. This Julius man said that maybe you’d wanna see him before he… he…” another audible breath while my body shook the bed and my throat burned so bad I knew it would never feel normal again, “passes. But he said there isn’t a lot of time.”
Suddenly full of energy, I threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. “Where is he?”
“County hospital outside Carnal.”
“I’ll get the first flight,” I announced, glad for the first time I had fifty thousand dollars of my husband’s money.
My husband’s money.
My husband.
My throat constricted, cutting off my air.
I forced saliva down it and doing it fucking hurt. But it worked; I could again breathe though I was doing it shallowly.
“Did he give you a number?” I asked.
“Yes, baby,” she answered.
“Can you…” I grabbed my suitcase and tossed it on the bed. “Can you… will you, when I get my flight, will you talk to him for me?”
I couldn’t talk to Julius. I couldn’t connect, even over the phone, with anything that belonged to Ty.
I couldn’t.
“Anything, Lexie,” Ella whispered.
“Thank you, honey,” I whispered back then stopped dead, froze and I couldn’t stop it, it hit me, no controlling it, it was too strong, the feeling overwhelmed me and the sob tore out of my throat, the sound so loud, it filled the room, reverberating, bouncing back and beating into me like fists.
“Baby,” Ella cooed in my ear. “Get your suitcase, get your clothes,” she guided me. “Pack. I’ll call Bessie. She’ll call for tickets. Just get yourself packed. That’s all you have to do. Bessie’ll take care of you.”
Bessie would. She’d been doing it awhile. She would do it forever.
Three good things in my whole, fucking, entire life – Bessie, Honey and Ella.
And the fourth was dying in Colorado.
“I’ll get packed,” I whispered.
“That’s my baby,” she whispered back. “Now, I’m gonna let you go and call our Bess, yes?”
“Yes,” I replied quietly.
“Pack, baby.”
“Okay, Ella.”
I heard her disconnect. Then I felt it slice through me leaving nothing but raw in its wake.
Then I pulled my shit together and started packing.
* * * * *
One hour later…
“I saw him,” Bessie said.
We were in her car on the way to the airport.
“What?” I asked, my mind on other things, my head so full it was aching, about to explode.
“With you on the beach,” she went on.
I sucked in breath and stared out the windshield.
Then I whispered, “Bess –”
She kept going. “Watched,” she whispered. “Watched him with you. Didn’t go to you, the way he was…” She cleared her throat. “The way he was with you. I liked it, Lexie.”
I closed my eyes, clenched my teeth then opened them and begged, “Stop.”
She was silent.
Then she wasn’t.
“Thought you took so long to call me for dinner, he was gettin’ through to you. You called, I was surprised. All these weeks, kept thinkin’ how I could tell you, how I could talk you into –”
“Stop.”
She stopped.
Then she started again.
“Shoulda talked you into givin’ him another shot.”
She should have. She should have done that.
But even if she did, I wouldn’t have listened.
“Doesn’t matter now,” I whispered.
“No,” she said gently, “doesn’t matter now, Lexie.”
It didn’t matter now.
Nothing mattered now.
She fell silent and kept driving.
* * * * *
Ten hours later…
I’d run the gamut, convincing myself my voice would be the miracle healing elixir that would wake Ty up the minute I whispered in his ear in his hospital bed and set him to healing to knowing by the time my plane touched down at Denver International Airport that he’d be dead by the time I arrived.
I struggled through the stupid, insane, trying process of hauling my ass down a concourse and into a fucking subway to get to the terminal (who ever heard of such ridiculousness, you had to get somewhere, you got there, you didn’t need then to get on a fucking train in the fucking ground, hours in the air then you’re underground? Insane!) then that fucking train expelled me and what had to be seven thousand other people, I jockeyed for position with them to get to the fucking escalators, I finally got to the terminal and there was Julius and a very beautiful, slim, elegant but highly accessorized (and all of her accessories were pure gold) black woman.
He enfolded me in a hug and informed me gently that Ty was holding on. Then she (her name was Anana) enfolded me in a hug then we waited what felt like a year for my big bag, the only one I had so the one I had to use, to come out at baggage claim and then they led me out to Ty’s Cruiser.
I nearly lost it the minute I saw Ty’s car, a car we bought together, a car that, upon seeing, irrationally I had the thought I could not set my ass in because it wasn’t his, somehow it was ours and I couldn’t deal with a reminder of what used to be the beauty of us, an us I threw away. I had to get away from it, run, find a way to go back in time and make the right decision, turn in Ty’s arms on the beach, put mine around him and accept back into my life the us he came all the way to Florida to give back to me.
But both of them saw me losing it and took control, getting me in, getting me buckled and getting us on our way.
Shortly after, I hit a fog then shortly after that, I hit understanding – pure and undiluted.
What the fuck was I doing?
If Ty lived for me to see him die, he was still going to fucking die.
My tall, beautiful Ty with his amazing curly, thick lashed, light brown eyes and his fantastic tattoos and his defined muscles and his deep voice calling me “baby” and “mama” was going to die.
What did it matter if I saw him breathe again before he did it?
What did anything matter?
God, why couldn’t I have done it even when I tried? Why couldn’t I have found my way to nothing mattering before Lady Luck, the stupid fucking bitch, took my fucking Ty?
So I shut down because it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
Not anymore.
Except I’d be there for the funeral.
So, shut down, I didn’t notice it until Julius had already hit the garage door opener to the condo, the door was up and he was pulling in.
Seeing the Snake hit my eyes as we slid in beside her, a new slice traced though the ragged edges of raw leaving agony in its wake and my head, resting on the window, came up.
And I was so out of it, my mind so saturated with sorrow nothing penetrated, it didn’t occur to me that there was the Viper, right there, shining, in one piece, without even a scratch.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
“Need to get somethin’,” Julius mumbled.
I looked around, confused.
All this rush, me flying three quarters of a continent to get to Ty’s bedside in order to perform my wifely death vigil and we were making a pit stop at Ty’s house?
“Julius, I don’t mean to sound…” I paused, “but… I…” I hesitated then pulled it together when he turned and looked through
the seats at me. “I’d really like to get to Ty,” I finished on a whisper.
His eyes went out the side window and he looked at something. Then he looked at Anana. Then he looked at me.
Then, “I won’t be a second,” was his totally fucking unhinged reply.
I gawked at him.
He threw open his door and folded out of the car.
Anana spoke, “Honey, why don’t you go on up with Julius? You gotta use the bathroom?”
Actually, I did.
So, since we were making this fucking ridiculous stop to do whatever the fuck Julius had to do while my husband was dying somewhere close, I’d use this time to visit the bathroom. And during that time, I’d convince myself, after I watched my husband die, the husband I let go, the husband who tracked me down in order to try to win me back, the husband I told to go away, the husband who, the last thing he heard from me was me calling us a nightmare, after I watched that husband die, while I was taking a bathroom break before that happened, I’d convince myself I wouldn’t fucking kill Julius.
“Yeah, be back,” I muttered, threw open the door, got out and hustled to the door to the utility room, hoping to all that was holy Julius was hustling his tall, massive ass too.
Through the door to the stairs and up them, I saw Julius was standing a few feet from the opening at the top of the stairs and my eyes narrowed on his back as I alighted the stairs and they did this because he was not hustling.
And I heard him say, “Later, you’ll get this was the only play I had to make.”
I hit the top of the stairs, took three steps in, my eyes unnarrowed and my body froze solid when my eyes hit Ty standing five feet in front of Julius.
Vaguely, I noticed he was frozen solid too; his eyes on me like my eyes were on him.
Well, maybe not the same because I was sure my eyes communicated total, complete, body-rocking, earth-shattering shock that he was standing, breathing, in one piece, wearing faded jeans, a skintight white tee, looking as gorgeous as always and very, very, very healthy.
Healthy.
Alive.
Standing.
Gorgeous.
In one piece.
Breathing.
Ty.
“And baby doll,” I heard Julius say but didn’t tear my eyes from Ty, “you give it time, beautiful, you’ll get it too that this was the only play I had to make.”