Brooke & Ben: Before Fate Interrupted (25 page)

Chapter
Twenty-Six

Ben saw the
white guy in the puffy coat advancing on him just in time, but he never saw the
guy with the aluminum bat. It all happened so fast. People always talk about
seconds turning into minutes during life and death situations, but not this
time. When Ben hit the ground Brooke screamed so loud the two guys took off running
for the car, leaving their tall buddy lying in a pool of his own blood. She
fumbled with Ben’s cell phone, her fingers numb with cold and shock, and
shakily dialed 911. Her breath squirted out in white waves, clouding her view
of Ben and the tall guy. Neither made a move or a sound, lifeless and surreal,
the ringing in her ear so loud now she thought she might join them on the
sidewalk herself.

The dispatcher
answered, his tone way too uncaring for the gravity of the situation at hand.
In between heavy gulps of oxygen, Brooke spit words into the phone. She
described what had happened, the blood, and their location in a run-on-sentence
without punctuation. At first the dispatcher didn’t respond and she thought the
call had dropped but she could hear typing in the background. He asked her
questions like someone would inquiring about a used car for sale on Craigslist.
The world around her began to spin as she reached the conclusion she had told
him everything she could. She hung up on the unsympathetic operator and rushed
to Ben’s side. She dropped to her knees and stared at his back, her chest
rising and falling.

“Baby, are you
okay?” She shook his arm, afraid to roll him over for what she might find.

He didn’t
respond, his body as limp as a wet noodle. She inhaled a deep breath and held
onto it, bracing herself for what she was about to do, and rolled him over. He
flopped onto his back and she fell onto her butt, a scream caught in her
throat. The dent above his hairline was deep and, with all of the blood, there
was no doubt he was dead.

***

They let her
ride in the back of the ambulance. The screaming sirens and frantic way the
paramedic worked on Ben scared her to death. The large cab was bright and warm
but she couldn’t stop shivering. Her teeth chattered inside her colorless
cheeks. The oxygen mask and blood covering Ben’s face made him unrecognizable.

“Is he alive?”

The medic hooked
up an IV and glanced up at a monitor mounted up in the corner.

She pounded the
bench seat she was sitting on against the wall. “Is he alive?”

“He’s alive,”
the man calmly replied from his single seat next to the stretcher, not taking
the time to make eye contact with her. This scared her even more. “But his
vitals are weak.”

“Weak?” She looked
to the monitor, which, in her mind, appeared to be in Japanese. “How weak?”

The medic slipped
a stethoscope into his ears and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Ben’s arm.
“What’s your name?” he asked, pumping the inflation bulb and studying the
aneroid gauge.

At that moment,
for some stupid reason (probably shock), she couldn’t stop thinking about how
much the medic looked like Tyrese Gibson. “Brooke.”

“Brooke, I’m Roy
and I’m going to need you to think good thoughts for your friend here, okay?”

She blinked at
Roy, barely able to process what he was saying let alone think good thoughts. “His
name is Ben.” She stared at Ben’s unmoving body laid out on the yellow
stretcher with his arms strapped across his chest in the funeral pose. If he
was dead, she would never be the same, forever scarred by what might have been.
Damaged goods. Always comparing everyone after to
the one
who came before. The one named Ben. The sweetest man she
had ever known. The one who didn’t deserve this. Anger pushed her sorrow to the
far corners of her mind, but not for long. Her sorrow was too strong and ran
too deep to go unnoticed for long.

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

Ben was in surgery
for what seemed like an eternity. During that time, Brooke watched the sun rise
and set before finally falling asleep on Evy’s wet shoulder in the ICU waiting
room. When she awoke, her first impression was it had all been a bad dream. Relief
washed over her, until she saw Ben’s mom sitting across from her. Irene looked
tired and ten years older and Brooke’s heart broke all over again.

“Brooke.”

She realized
someone was gently shaking her arm, but her eyelids were too heavy and puffy to
see who it was. Everything was a blur. She crack her eyes open a little wider
and saw Evy still sitting in the chair next to her. Evy said something but
Brooke couldn’t make out a single word. Everywhere she looked, people were
staring at her with eyes too big to be real. Her mom and dad, Evy, Irene, and
people she didn’t know watched her, waiting for her to say something. Anything.

Evy raised her
voice. “Brooke?”

“Huh?”

“There’s a
detective here to ask you a few questions. Are you up for talking with her? It
won’t take long.”

The look on
Evy’s face made Brooke’s heart sink. This was no bad dream. It was real and
apparently Evy knew more than she did. Brooke tried to swallow but her mouth
was too dry, tried to wake up but couldn’t move.

“I already
talked to them,” she said bleakly.

“This is
somebody different.”

Brooke studied
Evy, her eye little more than sleepy slits. “How is he?”

The lines in
Evy’s face deepened. Black flesh rimmed her sunken eyes like she hadn’t slept
in days. Brooke could only imagine what she must look like, but didn’t care and
repeated the question.

Evy took her
hand. “He’s hanging in there, sweetie.”

Brooke knew that
tone. “Is he going to make it?”

Evy struggled to
maintain eye contact with her sister and finally looked away.

The conversation
level and beeping noises around them faded to a far off murmur even though the
room felt as if it were shrinking. The tears came swift and hard. Evy wrapped
her in her arms, cooing softly in her ear, saying things like:
it’s okay
,
you can’t give up now
, and
he
needs you
as Brooke soaked her shoulder again.

Brooke struggled
from Evy’s tight embrace. “Is he awake?”

Evy ran a hand
through her tangled hair, trying to buy some more time to come up with a better
answer. “Not yet.”

“I have to see
him.” Brooke got to her feet, instantly dizzy from the abrupt motion.

Somebody
steadied her by the arm and said: “We’re going to have to wait just a little bit
longer before they let us see him, pumpkin. Okay?”

Brooke turned to
the soft voice behind her. The look on her father’s face sent an ice pick
through the middle of her already broken heart. He eased her back into the
chair and crouched down beside her.

Her voice came
out as a frightened whisper. “It was horrible.”

Will’s pallid
complexion made the rings circling his eyes look like tractor tires. “I know it
was, honey. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, and so sorry that…” he trailed
off to look past the nurses’ station down the hall, “that Ben did, too.”

She hugged him
so hard he nearly toppled over. Brooke sobbed into his neck, cutting off his
windpipe. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

“Hey, hey, this
isn’t your fault.” He rubbed her back, trading frightful looks with Evy and
Laura. “You didn’t do anything, baby girl, but help him.”

She pulled back
and shook her head defiantly. “You always said that if someone wants to find
trouble stay out past midnight and trouble will find you.” Brooke inhaled a wet
breath. “I should have listened!”

He held her out
at arm’s length. “Listen to me, Brooke, you and Ben have every right to be out
on that sidewalk, day or night. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong
time, but it’s no one’s fault but the thugs who did this.”

She wiped her
face, uncertainty swimming in her bloodshot eyes.

“Are you sure
you’re okay?” Laura asked from the other side of Evy, her eyes scanning
Brooke’s body for signs of trauma.

“I have to see
him.”

Will squeezed
her leg and stood up. “Let me track the doctor down. Okay?”

She replied with
a faint nod.

“We will get
through this together, just like we always do.”

Brooke wiped away
more tears.

“Hi Brooke.”

She looked up to
see a pretty woman with long black hair and even longer legs. Her olive skin
brought out her blue top and there was unmistakable concern in her eyes.
Brooke’s wounded gaze dropped to the silver badge clipped to her belt. The handgun
hiding beneath her gray blazer triggered a flashback of the tall man that made Brooke
flinch with pain.

“I know this
isn’t a good time but I’m Detective Angela Diamond, and I need to ask you a few
questions so we can get these other two scumbags off the streets before they
hurt anyone else.”

Laura got up and
gestured to her seat. “I’m going down to the cafeteria. You two want coffee?”
Her eyes darted from Evy to Brooke.

“Please,” Evy
answered for both of them.

Laura turned to
Ben’s mom. “Irene?”

Irene stared at
Detective Diamond with flat-eyed consideration, her mouth collecting flies.

Laura leaned down
a little closer. “Irene?”

Irene’s cold
blue eyes looked up. “Some tea would be nice, dear.”

Laura patted her
hand before disappearing down a wide hallway bustling with nurses, doctors and
carts on wheels.

The detective
took Laura’s seat, crossed her legs and rested a notepad on her knee. “Now, we
have one man in custody but he’s not talking.” A tight-lipped smile flattened
her pink lips. “Broken jaw,” she explained. “Thanks to your friend, he’ll be
eating through a straw for the next few months, but he won’t even write
anything down for us. We need your help, Brooke.”

“Boyfriend,”
Brooke mumbled, staring down the hall where her father had looked, the attack
playing out in her mind again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop
it from happening and wished she could never hear that crunching sound again.
The one the bat made when it crushed Ben’s skull. Wished she could never see
the way his body fell to the ground in a heap of limp muscles.

“I’m sorry?”

“He’s my
boyfriend.”

Detective
Diamond tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and readied a pen on the
notepad. “Can you start from the beginning, Brooke? What’s the first thing you
remember?”

“I-I can’t. Not
right now. I have to see him.”

“They’re not letting
anyone see him yet, Brooke.” Evy held Brooke’s hand and tried on a comforting
smile. “I know it hurts but they have to catch these bastards before they do
this again.”

Irene stared
dully at Brooke, patiently awaiting her response. Or perhaps not hearing a
single word anyone was saying. It was hard to know for sure.

They were all
looking at Brooke again. She made them go away by shutting her eyes, taking
temporary solace in the darkness. She didn’t want to do this, would give
anything to never go back there again. Every now and then down the road, however,
she supposed she would whether she wanted to or not. After inhaling a heavy
breath, Brooke Burnett bravely stepped foot back into the scene of the crime.
She could feel the cold on her cheeks and see Ben’s smiling face. Then she saw
the white guy step out from the bank’s cubby hole.

She opened her
eyes and started from the beginning, Detective Diamond’s pen wiggling through
the air.

***

Diamond slipped
the pen inside her blazer and uncrossed her legs. “It’s called
Apple picking
and it’s happening all
across the country.” She smoothed her matching slacks. “It’s a growing
problem.”

Brooke blurred
the detective’s high heels into black blobs, her mind playing catch up. “
Apple picking
?”

“Thieves will
sneak up from behind and snatch whatever Apple product you have in your hand
and then take off running. Most of the time we’re lucky to get much of a
description.”

“I told you, they
didn’t want our phones.”

The detective
hesitated before going any further, studying Brooke through intense eyes,
chewing on the tip of her pen. “And you’re sure it was the same three men from
Wooly’s.”

“Positive.”

Diamond sighed.
“Well, you’ve given us some good information to go on, Brooke, and my money
says we will catch these animals.” She paused to lower her voice – including
her professional disposition. “And that’s exactly what these pieces of shit
are: wild animals. No better than fucking terrorists.”

Unlike the 911
operator, Brooke could hear the contempt in the detective’s voice and it gave
her hope, though she didn’t know why. Ben was lying in a coma in intensive
care, the damage already done. Hope seemed like a thing of the past now. Like
payphones and CDs.

The pretty detective
turned to watch a nurse wheel a very pregnant lady down the hall. “Believe it
or not, I never get used to seeing this happen. Never understood how one person
can do such horrible things to another, and I see it almost every day.”

Brooke turned to
her with pleading eyes made bigger by her tears. “Is he going to live?”

Diamond set a
warm hand on Brooke’s knee. “I hope so, honey. He’s in my prayers.” She got to
her feet and handed a card to Brooke. “You all are in my prayers tonight.” She
seemed at a momentary loss for words that Brooke bet was a part of her
professional courtesy. “I’ll be in touch, Brooke.”

Brooke watched
her fade down the hall, despair gripping her insides with razor sharp talons,
making it difficult to breathe. “Why is this happening?”

Irene slowly
rose from her chair and approached Brooke. The morose look on her face told
Brooke she was about to drop off a big ole’ bag of blame at her doorstep. Irene
looked down at her, hands clasped in front of her mom jeans bursting at the
zipper.

Brooke stared into
her tired eyes, imagining what was about to come out of her mouth, hearing her
blameful words before she could even speak them.

Irene set a
wrinkled hand on Brooke’s shoulder and gave her a soft smile that took everything
she had, which wasn’t much. “Would you like to pray with me, Brooke?”

The air fled
Brooke’s lungs. It was the first time Irene had called her by her name. Brooke
didn’t know what to say so she just stared up at her.

Irene squeezed
her shoulder. “If you change your mind, I’ll be in the chapel.”

She watched Ben’s
mom carefully traverse the shiny floor, like it had been mopped with oil. One
white New Balance in front of the other.

Brooke called
out Irene’s name.

Irene stopped
and slowly turned around.