Misty (35 page)

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Authors: Allison Hobbs

BOOK: Misty
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Anya and Brick held hands on the drive back to the city. They rode in silence except for the soft music that played from the radio. Each was in a state of bliss and conversation wasn't necessary. At the wheel, Brick smoothly veered off I-495 at exit 5, and glided onto Township Line Road, which would take them directly into Philadelphia.

“As you know, I'm not comfortable being in your apartment, so why don't you stay in the hotel with me tonight?”

“That's not a problem, Anya. Whatever makes you happy. Where are you staying?”

“The Omni, Fourth and Chestnut.”

“That's perfect. It's near my work site. I'll call Thomasina and let her know she has to take our son to school tomorrow.”

“Do you think she'll mind?”

“Not at all. But without me overseeing things, she might dress him like a mini college professor,” Brick said with laughter.

“I'm glad you two are getting along and co-parenting.”

“We're getting better,” Brick said pensively. “It's gonna take some time before all the wounds are healed.”

Anya nodded. “Do you have to stop at your apartment to pick up a change of clothes or toiletries?”

“Nope, I'm always prepared with extra work clothes and a bag of essentials in my trunk.”

“Okay, then let's head to the hotel.”

•  •  •

Brick and Anya pulled into the hotel's secured indoor garage and surprisingly found a spot immediately. Brick cut the engine and turned to look at her. “It seems too good to be true, the way everything is working out for us now that we're back together.”

“We've been through a lot; don't you think it's time for things to finally flow smoothly? I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a blissfully happy life,” Anya replied as they both got out of the car. She moved close to him and slipped her hand in his.

“Yeah, it's time for me to let go of the past and all the hurt that I experienced as a child. That was the hand I was dealt, and—”

“And now you've replaced those cards with a different hand,” Anya interjected wisely. “In this moment and from now on, no more regret. We're living in the moment.”

“You're right, and I'm gonna make it my business to enjoy every moment I spend with you,” Brick said cheerfully, although he had a vague feeling that the harmony they were experiencing was only the quiet before the storm.

A car rolled into the garage and Brick protectively pulled Anya close as the car whizzed past. Suddenly, tires squealed as the car came to an abrupt halt, and then began speedily backing up, causing Brick and Anya to have to jump out of the way.

“What the fuck!” Brick exploded. The window to the passenger's side rolled down and Brick was stunned to see Misty. Her nurse, Audrey, was driving.

“Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here, Brick,” Misty said sarcastically as she got out of the car.

Anya recognized her immediately as the woman she'd seen in the hotel elevator. And then with a sinking heart, she realized why she'd seemed so familiar. This gorgeous woman was Misty. She was Brick's childhood sweetheart and the love of his life. Anya had sat in Misty's hospital room, checking on her on Brick's behalf while she was still in a coma. She'd also seen pictures of what Misty had looked like before she was beaten and disfigured. A surgeon's diligent work had restored her looks, but her carefully crafted features were now distorted by rage.

“Who's this bitch?” Misty scowled at Anya.

“You're the fuckin' bitch,” Anya barked, stepping toward Misty.

“No, baby. Don't get into it with her.” Brick grabbed Anya by the arm, holding her back.

“I must be hearing things? You've been treating me like a pariah, but you call this average-looking slut
baby!”

“You got a lot of mouth, bitch!” Infuriated, Anya tried to yank away from Brick, but he held her firmly. “Let's walk away. Come on, think about the future we're planning together, and you'll realize it's not worth it,” Brick said sensibly.

With his arm around Anya, Brick turned her around and guided her away from Misty who was fuming mad and cursing up a storm. Enraged, Misty ran behind the couple and sucker-punched Anya in the back of her head. The blow from Misty's small fist was more annoying than painful, but it was degrading.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Misty?” Brick shouted.

Going around Brick, Anya quickly retaliated, drawing her hand back and landing a punch in Misty's face, knocking her on her ass.

“Oh, my God. Are you all right, Misty?” Audrey screamed and leapt out of the car. But instead of running to Misty's aid, she attacked Anya with a sharp object, stabbing her with amazing speed, puncturing her neck, her side, and then plunging what turned out to be a long screwdriver in the center of Anya's chest.

Brick ripped Audrey away from Anya and tossed her in the air. Her body hit the hood of her car with a loud thud. But he hadn't acted swiftly enough. The damage to Anya had already been done. Anya lay gasping and bleeding profusely as her life appeared to be slipping away.

Brick dropped down to the ground, trying to staunch the blood from the deep wound in her neck with a bandana he wore on the job that had been stuffed in his back pocket. The screwdriver, covered in blood, rolled ominously across the concrete and under Audrey's car.

“I'm gonna get you help, baby. Stay with me,” he pleaded to Anya as he called 9-1-1. “I need help. My girl got stabbed in her neck, her chest—all over. I don't think she's gonna make it. Send an ambulance. Please. Hurry!”

“Where are you, sir?” asked the dispatcher.

“Inside the garage at the Omni Hotel on Chestnut Street. Hurry up and get here before she stops breathing,” Brick yelled and hung up.

Sitting on the ground and cradling Anya, Brick gave a sharp intake of breath when he noticed Anya's eyes roll into the back of her head. “Anya! Come on, baby, stay with me. Please, baby, please.”

“Why're you crying over her, when you can have me?” Misty asked. She got up and dusted herself off before slithering over to Brick with a look of triumph in her eyes.

“Why's the fucking ambulance taking so long?” Brick shouted hoarsely, looking wild-eyed. “You have to help her, Misty. Lay hands on her.”

“Fuck that shit,” Misty said fiercely. “Let her go, Brick. Stop worrying about that random bitch. I can't help her; she's already dead.”

“No, she's not. There's life still inside her; I can feel it. Please, Misty,” he begged with tears pouring from his eyes. “Heal her. Do it for me—for old time's sake.”

“She's dead,” Misty insisted.

Brick gazed upon Anya and her eyes were half-closed and vacant. Her mouth was open, as if she'd tried to take a final breath of air.

Sobbing, Brick began bargaining with Misty. “Touch her; you can at least try to heal her.”

“And what do I get out of it?”

“I'll come back to you. I'll be the man I used to be. Dedicated to you and only you. I'll place you above all others, Misty—even my son,” Brick said, bargaining with everything that was dear to him. He glanced down at Anya again and her complexion was turning a ghastly gray. Fearing she would soon utter her last breath, he was prepared to make a deal with the devil if that's what it took to spare Anya's life.

Misty arched her brow suspiciously. “So…what you're saying is, all I have to do is lay hands on this dead bitch and you'll be humble and devoted the way you were before my mother ruined you and got you to thinking you're God's gift to women?”

“Yes, I swear. I'm all yours, Misty. All you have to do is lay hands on Anya, and I'll become the old Brick—your faithful lover, exactly the way you trained me to be,” Brick pleaded urgently.

Misty had a look of excitement in her eyes. “Okay, but I'm curious
about when you started seeing this chick. Who the hell is she?”

“Her name is Anya. She's a friend who helped me out when I was down. She financed the trip we made to L.A.; she helped me get inside Smash Hitz's world. I would have never got my hands on Horatio and gotten revenge for what he did to you if it wasn't for her. She even visited you in the hospital when your mother wouldn't allow me anywhere near you.”

“Oh!” Misty said, suddenly enlightened. “So that's where I know her from. She was lurking in my hospital room, talking to me while I was in the coma. I remember that now but, at the time, I didn't know who the hell she was, and couldn't understand why she was talking to me.” Misty shrugged. “It didn't matter since I couldn't respond anyway.”

“You're wasting precious time, Misty! Her pulse is getting weak. You have to heal her before she stops breathing.”

Misty sighed. “Okay, I'll try, Brick.”

“Stop talking and do it!”

Misty placed a hand on the open wound on Anya's neck, and it miraculously closed.

“Touch her chest and touch the spot where she was stabbed on her right side,” Brick prompted, his words coming out in a rush of desperation. Misty complied, and although the wounds closed, Anya continued to lie still and lifeless in Brick's arms.

Misty shrugged. “I tried, but it was too late. I told you she was dead.” Misty removed her hand, and was about to stand up when Anya took a deep, strangled breath.

“Anya!” Brick cried out. “Breathe, baby. Take a deep breath.”

“Don't be talking that
baby
shit to her. We have a deal, Brick,” Misty said, her eyes brimming with fury.

“I know,” he said, nodding grimly as he caressed Anya's face.

Misty attempted to stand, but her legs gave out. “Ohmigod, something's wrong with my legs,” she said, her eyes wide with alarm. She lifted her arms to reach for Brick, but they fell uselessly at her sides. “I can't move, Brick.” Misty looked around in abject fear. Unable to sit up any longer, she toppled to her side. “Oh, no! I can't walk and I can't move. I'm fucking paralyzed again. Fucking with that dying bitch took everything out of me.”

She shot a hateful look at Anya whose clothes were bloodstained, yet she miraculously had no wounds.

Misty began struggling to breathe. “I'm scared, Brick. Everything's getting dark. I can feel my soul leaving, but I'm not ready to die. Oh, no. Shane is here and he's beckoning me, telling me it's time. Make him go away, Brick,” Misty whimpered.

Her eyelids fluttered vigorously as she struggled to hold on to the life that was quickly slipping away.

“Can you help her, Brick?” Anya asked in a weak voice.

Kneeling over Misty, Brick spoke her name softly, afraid that the sheer volume of his natural voice might hasten her demise. “The ambulance is on the way. You're gonna be all right, Misty.”

“I don't think I'm gonna make it—not this time.”

“Don't say that, babe.”

“You called me, babe,” she murmured dreamily.

Brick caressed Misty's face and stroked her hair. “Ain't nothing changed, you'll always be my baby.”

“Really, Brick? You still love me?”

“I never stopped.”

Through sheer will, and despite her irregular and shallow breathing, Misty forced her eyes open and scrutinized Brick's face, searching for something she could trust. Maintaining a loving and reassuring expression, Brick tried to give her what she needed.

“I love you, too, Brick, and I'm not scared anymore. I'm ready.”

“Ready for what, Misty?” There was fear in Brick's voice. Despite her many flaws, Misty was a part of him, and he wasn't ready to lose his former lover, his sister, his friend.

“I'm ready to go back,” she said with a faint smile. With one last, croaking gasp, her body went limp.

“Misty!” Frantic, Brick checked but couldn't find a pulse. Misty's eyes were wide open and staring vacantly, and it was obvious that she was dead.

“Where's the ambulance?” Anya asked, looking around. “Maybe she can be revived.”

“She's beyond help. She's gone,” Brick said, teary-eyed.

He reached beneath the car and using the clean part of his bloodied bandana, he wiped Anya's blood from the weapon. “You're not gonna like this, Anya—I don't like it, either—but it's something I have to do. I'll explain later.”

The muscles in his face visibly tightened as he savagely drove the screwdriver in and out of Misty's body.

“Why'd you do that?” Anya asked, horrified.

“To cover our tracks. When I made the nine-one-one call to get you help, I told them you'd been stabbed, but Misty healed you, and I need that call to make sense when the police get here,” Brick explained. He moved to the hood of Audrey's car, where she remained knocked out. He placed the handle of the screwdriver in Audrey's hand and folded her fingers around it.

Regaining consciousness, Audrey slid off the hood of the car, and jumped to her feet, ready to resume battle. Audrey shrieked when she glanced at Misty, who was deathly still and covered in blood. “You killed her,” she accused, wielding the deadly screwdriver as she stalked toward Brick, looking at him with outright loathing.

At that precise moment, the dual sirens of an ambulance followed by a police car filled the parking garage.

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