A Moment (6 page)

“Yes,” a sob rips from me. Grabbing his hands, I take them between my own, but he’s so big and slippery and I’m already holding onto the phone, so I mush them against my breasts. “I did it.”

“Good. Now where do you live?”

“Oh my God, I don’t know. This is their house. Oh please, hurry.”

“No problem, ma’am. What’s his name?”

“It’s Ryan. Ryan Cosgrove.”

***

Ryan

I hear things. Strange sounds. Beeps and whooshes.

That’s the first thing I remember.

The second thing is the pain that’s running like fire across my body, but mostly through my wrists. It hurts to move too much, but I do manage to peek. They’re bound and wrapped with hospital tape. Red spots dot the center of each.

“He’s waking up.”

I recognize Alex and I moan.

“Ryan?” A soft voice, it’s gentle, but the touch against my arm is even softer and it feels so good. I don’t ever want to wake up; I just want to stay in this place, this safe and warm place that doesn’t hurt.

But I can’t, because I’m awake now and I have to see who’s touching me.

It’s the girl from the club. Liliana. Her eyes are so green and huge in her small face. Her skin is more pale than I remember and there are purple spots under her eyes, like she hasn’t slept in a while.

Grunting, I glance down at myself.

There are tubes and wires attached all over me, a heart monitor is hooked up to my chest, and when I flex my hand I feel a needle beneath it. Swallowing with a throat that feels like someone shoved a melon into it, I look at Alex.

His face is grim and his eyes are pissed.

“Damn,” I mutter.

“You damn ingrate,” he grits out, then turns and walks out the room.

Liliana glances over her shoulder, to where he left. I hate that she looks worried. And it bothers me why she’s even here. Does she know what I tried to do?

Turning back to me, she grabs my hand and her fingers are so small I can close my entire fist around them. “He doesn’t mean it, you know. He’s just worried about you.”

She bites her bottom lip and something inside me wants to sooth the frown from between her brows.

“Angel?”

She smiles and it’s breathtaking. Literally takes mine away. I could get used to that smile.

“What are you doing here?”

She cocks her head, a spill of hair falls around her face like a curtain. Thick and brown, it’s gorgeous, a part of me wonders what it smells like. I love women’s hair, love the way it smells so good and looks so pretty and hers is the nicest I’ve seen.

“I’ve been here every day.”

Every day? My heart stutters at that. “How long have I been here?”

She crosses her legs and taps her finger on mine. I noticed her doing that at the bar the other night. She does it when she’s nervous. Is she nervous now?

“Five days.”

I frown. “What?”

“The doctors had to give you so much blood.” Her voice breaks and I have a terrible thought.

Please God tell me she wasn’t…

“When I found you,” she continues, “you lost so much. You needed a lot, Ryan.”

I focus on only one thing. Closing my eyes, I pull my hand out of hers. It is one thing to try and off myself, it’s another to have a stranger know one of the darkest secrets about you.

She wraps her hands together and clenches them to her chest.

“You found me?” My voice is dead, flat. But inside I’m angry.

I can’t even die right.

“Why would you do that?” she asks me, as if she has a right to know.

And maybe she does. Maybe the person who brings you back from death has the right to know why they did it in the first place. But if she knew the truth, she’d have let me die. Nothing like me deserves to live.

I roll my face to the side.

Sighing, she gets up from her chair. I can hear her pacing. I’m so aware of her every move. I can close my eyes right now and describe her down to exacting detail.

From the tiny cleft in her jaw, to the green eyes, to the thick dark hair, even to the three freckles she’s got scattered across the bridge of her nose, and how when it gets cold in a room, her nipples bead up into tiny points. Points I try hard to not get caught staring at, but I can’t help it. They’re perfect. She’s perfect.

Fuck.

I’m a mess.

“Alex told me you’re going to have to go under psychiatric evaluation.”

I laugh. Been there, done that. Got the t-shirt. It’s why I got politely booted from the damn Marines to begin with.

Too much baggage. Not worth saving. Get the hell out.

Of course the military could have gone the route of a dishonorable discharge, but I’d had a sergeant who cared. Told me it would have gone on my records and screwed up any chance I had on the outside to get a decent job. So, they did everything they could to make sure I didn’t walk out with that mar against me.

Because even though I’m a fighter, no one likes to spar with a psycho nut job. Who knows what they’ll do next? Right?

“Yeah, I figured,” I finally say, knowing I’m in for twelve weeks of psychobabble shit that won’t fix a damn thing. It never has.

She walks back to me and when she stares down I can’t explain it, but I feel longing and hope and so damn confused I want to suck my thumb and cry like a baby.

Then she runs her fingers through my hair. “Get better, Ryan. He really loves you. You have one life, whatever happened to you, whoever did that to you… don’t let them win.”

I still, every ounce of oxygen in my body literally seems to seep out my pores. She’ll never know just how close to home she’s hit.

“You’re worth so much more than this.”

With those last words, she exits my life.

I know I’ll never see her again and that thought is crippling.

Chapter 6

Liliana

Everything’s changed since the night I found him. And yet, things stay the same.

It’s been three months.

I know because I count them down on the calendar. I’m not obsessed with him.

Or maybe I am, but I don’t really think that’s it either. Ryan and I had had a convergence; we met in a place and time that would forever leave an indelible mark in the road map of my life.

It’s more than just my attraction to him. He’s mentally unstable, that’s clearly obvious and not something I need to bring into my life, or Javi’s. But I haven’t been like this about anyone. Ever.

Not even Javi’s dad-- which at fourteen, feelings can be pretty intense.

I thought I’d loved him. And he sworn he’d loved me. Until the baby came. Then it was hasta luego, it’s been good knowing ya. I’d cried rivers for nine months straight. I’m sure the pregnancy hormones hadn’t helped. But with time and age I realized what a little loser I’d slept with and am now happy he’s no longer a part of our lives.

I haven’t even been back to Chai Time. Maybe that makes me spineless. But that night haunts me. Seeing him in the tub, slumped forward, all that blood everywhere.

And then that morning in the hospital room, his voice soft, his eyes troubled and I’d asked him why. I’d seen the flash of hurt, the agony of a memory that plagued him still.

I don’t think it’s a girl.

A broken heart doesn’t do that to a person.

When Javier’s father had finally dumped me, I’d cried and wouldn’t eat and hid in the dark room, but I didn’t want to kill myself. When I’d crawled out of there, I’d come out stronger.

But Ryan’s demons are dark and dangerous and something I’m terrified to get involved in, problem is… I think I already am. Because I can’t stop wondering, can’t stop trying to make sense of the madness that was that night. Why had he done it? What had forced him to a point in his life that he really thought he had no other choice?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Stepping out of the shower, I run my hand across the steamed up mirror. My cheeks are pink, hair clings to my face.

And maybe part of the reason why I can never seem to forget him is the fact that I always have to shower. Though my bathroom is full of butterflies and flowers, I don’t see any of those things. I see a white fluttering curtain, wet tile, and blood.

“Apurate, mija,” my mother calls, urging me to hurry. “You’ll be late for class. Ade made tortillas.”

“Coming, mama.” Turning my back on the mirror, I hurriedly dress in a pair of white shorts and a light yellow halter top.

After breakfast I turn to my son. He’s dressed, sitting on the ground and flipping through a comic book. My heart pitter patters at the sight of his soft wet curls around the nape of his neck.

Thank God he looks nothing like his father.

A half-eaten peanut butter sandwich sits on a plate next to his booted foot.

“Baby, you ready for school?”

He stops turning the pages and looks up, his eyes halting at my chest. Javi never looks in my eyes.

Putting on a brave face, I turn to Ade and mom. “Okay, I’m off. Wish me luck. Today I get to articulate a skeleton.”

“Didn’t you do that before?” Mom asks.

I shrug on my back pack. “Yeah, but I did that freshman year, I think they want to make sure we haven’t forgotten. Anyway.” I kiss my fingers and blow it at them.

“C’mon, baby.” I hold out my hand to Javi.

Standing, he grabs his comic, unzips his book bag and gently slides it in. He ignores my hand completely.

Hand hanging in midair, I bring it slowly back to my thigh and smile like it doesn’t bother me, but it does, it always does.

Three hours later I’m done articulating the bones. But I hadn’t liked it. I nailed the test, I know it, but it was an infant skeleton. It’d felt macabre. Some of the guys in my class had laughed, calling the bones cute.

To me they weren’t cute. They were the bones of a child a mother had lost. So when I stepped out onto the campus lawns, I was grumpy.

The day is warm. Hotter than it’d been the last few weeks, with temperature’s soaring past one hundred an hour ago, and that only made me crankier.

I need a drink.

And I know immediately where I’m going.

There’s a good chance he’s not even there.

My stomach flutters.

Really I have nothing to worry about.

But if I’m being honest I’d known I was going to go there this morning. It’s why I’d taken such care to look nice. Why my hands had been shaking all day. Biting down on my tongue, I cross the street, smelling the coffee long before I open the door.

I moan in appreciation.

It’s so bright outside it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.

When they finally do, he’s there.

Not Alex.

But Ryan.

***

Ryan

I’m not ready to see her.

Maybe ever.

She walks into the coffee shop looking better than I’d remembered. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun and she’s wearing a yellow crop top that shows a flash of belly at the bottom.