Wished Away: A Broken Fairy Tale (5 page)

“Run!” I yell to the girl as I wrestle with this murdering asshole. Who the hell kills a mother in front of her child? I’m going to make sure this man pays for this with his life.

Droves of officers come barreling through the door as I struggle to wrestle this lunatic to the ground. He must be hopped up on drugs with the amount of strength he is able to use against me, given I’m much bigger than he is. Just as I release the gun from his hand I hear a loud shot and my ears begin ringing painfully. Another shot. Three more. I look down to see blood pouring down the murders face and his body goes slack, rolling off to the side of me. The ringing in my ears is deafening, and I feel almost dizzy from the noise. My fellow officers begin swarming us, and it seems as if everything is moving in slow motion around me. My thoughts drift to Jess and Charlotte and their loving smiles. The thought of Jess’s warm touch is all I try to think of right now. Chaos is ensuing around me, and I’m trying to get up and out of the way but I can’t. Joey’s now standing over me, lifting my head in his lap, saying something to me, but I still can’t hear him because the ringing in my ears is too damn loud. When I look up at him and see the tears in his eyes, I realize something’s very wrong. I struggle to look down where I can feel others pulling and tugging on me, and see that my abdomen is covered in blood.
My blood
. I look up at my best friend having no idea how I’ve been shot. Only now do I realize what’s happened to me, and I can feel my life slipping away, but I won’t let it.

I begin chanting Jess and Charlotte’s name to give me strength. I
must
make it for them. I
have
to make it for them. My thoughts shoot to the gift my father gave me only hours ago of St. Michael and think if I’d only worn it, maybe my fate would’ve been different.

I don’t feel physical pain, the pain of being torn away from Jess is too consuming. I look up at Joey, mustering up the strength to speak through the blood that I continue to cough up when I’m lifted on the stretcher. He has my hand in his, so I squeeze it to let him know I have something to say.

“I’m here man. I got you. I’m not going to let you die. You hear me. You. Are. Not. Going. To. Die.” Joey’s voice is intense and I have no doubt he’ll do anything to keep me alive.

I nod and try to smile, but don’t know if I’m able to do any of it by the desperate way he’s looking at me. I open my mouth a few times before I’m able to get out the words. “My pocket.”

Joey searches my pocket and pulls the chain out and holds it up to me. I nod weakly and try to get the words out, but my breath is too short to say all I want to say. “Jess. Give it to her.”

“Of course man. Anything you want.”

“Tell…” I swallow hard, flinching at the iron taste of my own blood. “Jess I love her…Charlotte too.” I breathe hard, but am glad the words seemed to have gotten out when a tear drops from Joey’s eye onto my face.

“You tell them yourself, Motherfucker. We’ll be at the hospital in five minutes and you’ll be fine.”

We both know that’s not going to happen. With my last breath I say, “Tell her to be strong. Tell her to live.”

Jess

A
n hour late. Dave’s an hour late for his own birthday dinner and hasn’t even bothered to call. He isn’t usually this inconsiderate, but I can’t help but think he snuck away for a quick workout at Crossfit before coming home. I swear he’s freaking addicted, and while I don’t mind the results, I wish he’d have called instead of left Charlotte and me sitting here waiting.

I go to the kitchen to check that the prime rib I have resting isn’t completely destroyed when the doorbell rings. “Charlotte, will you get it?” I call from the kitchen knowing it’s probably Cam and Holden with the girls. I’d invited them over for some cake for dessert, but had also forgotten to tell them that we haven’t eaten dinner yet. Oh well, I have wine, and plenty of food if they want dinner too. I grab a dish towel and wipe the meat juices off my hands before going to greet my friends. I’ll have to use all my control not to show them how pissed I am at Dave right now. I never like to involve others in our arguments and don’t want to make for an awkward night. After the enjoyment he gave me last night, I think I can probably give him a pass. A devilish smile crosses my face just as I turn the corner to our entryway to see Kat, Joey, and Sarg. Kat is leading Charlotte down the steps and I fall to the ground, knowing what they are here to tell me. I can’t speak. I can’t move. For a moment I just sit there, clutching the damn dinner towel for life staring up at the two men before me. Sarg only comes to an officer’s house unannounced for one reason, and it’s never a good one.

Joey comes to my side and takes me in his arms. His touch is like acid on my skin and I flinch away. “Don’t you say it Joey. Don’t you fucking say it!” I scream up at him with tears bursting through my words. My insides feel like they’re tearing apart, each nerve splintering in agony.

“Come with us Jess. You need to come before it’s too late,” Sarg says from above us as Joey tenderly picks me up in his arms.

“Charlotte. Where’s Charlotte?” I ask frantically looking around.

“I called Kat from the ambulance and asked her to meet us here. She’s taking Char back to her house and will keep her there tonight so you can be with Dave.” Joey wipes my tear soaked hair from my face. “He’s been shot Jess. It’s not good. Not good at all.”

I feel like my own life is slipping away with his words. My life
is
Dave’s. “He can’t die Joey. I can’t live without him.”

The drive to Brick Memorial is painfully long. Even with the flashing lights of Sarg’s patrol car taking us speedily through the streets, every minute seems an hour. I’m resting up against Joey’s shoulder, staring blankly ahead, praying over and over for him to stay with us. I don’t care if he’s crippled, I don’t care if I have to take care of his every need for the rest of my life, as long as he’s with me, we can make it through anything. He’s always said that, and I believe that more now than ever. Just as my thoughts turn grave, Joey reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small pendant.

He begins slowly telling me the details of the shooting. How Dave was responding to a house alarm and came upon a murder and hostage situation. The hostage was a little girl. Of course Dave wouldn’t have waited for back up if a little girl was in danger. When trying to save the little girl, the intruder had another gun he didn’t know about and shot him once in the stomach and another time in the side of his head. Joey told me how he was there with Dave after he’d been shot, that he stayed with him the entire ride to the hospital, then came straight for me. The doctors have to get him stabilized before they perform surgery and I can only hope I will get there in time to see him before he is taken back. I’m suffocating with grief thinking of the love of my life fighting for his life alone in a hospital bed right now.

“Dave asked me to tell you he loves you and Char…” Joey chokes up before he can finish our daughter’s name. He grips me tightly and we both cry together. After a few moments he struggles to speak again. “I have to do this Jess. I promised him.” He takes a deep breath holding on to my shaking hands. “He said he wants you to be strong, to live, and to give you this.”

I take the necklace and know exactly what it is. I’ve seen it countless times on his father. “Was he wearing this?”

“No, it was in his pocket.”

Anger pushes through my sadness wondering if he’d only worn the pendant, he might have had a different fate, but I can’t allow myself to question him right now. Dave would’ve always done everything he could to keep safe for me and Charlotte. He doesn’t deserve my questions. I take the pendant and put it on immediately, praying to St. Michael that he’ll protect my husband, that he’ll save him from being taken from us far too soon. I know Dave wanted to protect me, but I would never feel safe without him.

We pull up to the hospital and Joey leads me inside and I feel like none of this is really happening. How can it be? Just this morning, we were lying in bed together planning out the rest of the weekend, and now he’s being kept alive by a machine. I have to see him. I have to touch him. One. Last. Time.

We are rushed through the lobby and come upon a small sterile waiting room where Cam and Holden are sitting huddled together in the corner with Dave’s parents. I look up at Joey, “I need to see him now.” I can’t look over at Cam and Holden again, it’ll make me crumble.

Before Joey can answer me I burst through the doors and am grateful when I hear Cam tell them to let me go. She knows me well enough to know when I need to be alone, and now is definitely one of those times. I need to see Dave and
now
. I begin walking aimlessly down the hallway looking for his room, praying they haven’t taken him into surgery yet. I fearfully look in every room that I pass, praying with each step that it’s all been a big misunderstanding, and he’ll be sitting up in his bed, drinking some juice with a few bumps and bruises. I’m not sure how many doors I’ve looked in when I come upon Dave. I freeze in the doorway when I see the tell-tale tattoo he has on his forearm that’s hanging lifelessly off the edge of the bed. I instinctively rub mine remembering when we had it permanently etched in our skin, just like we are etched in each other’s soul. I fall to the ground at the sight of my strong husband hooked up to all those machines. The reality of his fate is crushing me.

A hand grips my forearm, lifting me to me feet and leading me to a chair that’s placed next to Dave’s bed, but we do not speak to each other, and I don’t look up to see who it is…I don’t care. I reach for Dave’s hand, shocked by how cold it is, and sink deeper into despair.

I lean over and begin kissing his knuckles begging for him to fight for me. I take in the clean mint scent that always covers Dave’s hand and smile. He’s such a fanatic about using a mint scented hand sanitizer all the time, and most of the time it drives me crazy. But now--now it’s the one thing that makes him seem alive to me.

“We’ll be taking him back into surgery soon, but you can stay until they prep him. Can I bring you anything Mrs. Bosi?”

I still don’t look up or speak, I just nod my head no, and continue praying. I rub the pendant that Dave had left for me hoping that the power of St. Michael will bring him back to me, back to Charlotte. The eerie sounds of the machines beeping and the ventilator swooshing sending air into my husband’s lungs are like nails on chalk board, reminding me of the grave situation the love of my life’s in. I still can’t make sense of what happened tonight, nor do I really care to know the details, all want is for someone to bring him back to me.

I’m not sure how long I sit at Dave’s bedside before the deep raspy voice from before speaks again. “They’re going to need to prep your husband for surgery now Mrs. Bosi. Why don’t we go in the waiting room and I can inform you of what’s going to be happening, and have you sign some paperwork.”

I close my eyes tightly, trying not to let the anger bubbling up inside me explode all over this person who just won’t seem to leave me alone. I stand next to Dave, and lean over his stiff, cold body, and place a kiss on his forehead, my tears spilling over his perfect face. Even with all of these tubes, and his pale skin, he’s still perfect. He’s still my Dave. “I’ll be waiting for you,” I whisper in his ear before kissing him one more time and walk out the door to talk with the doctor.

The florescent lights in the hallway seem to make me feel even more like I’m trapped in some sort of nightmare. I look down the narrow hallway to see Dave’s parents huddled together with Cam and Holden and hastily turn and walk in the other direction. If I see them, if I talk with them, this will all be too real. I turn the corner, out of breath, trying to gain my composure, but I just can’t. I’m shaking violently and slide my back down the wall so that I’m sitting in a ball, with my head between my legs, taking deep breaths, trying to hold back the tears that just won’t stop.

“Mrs. Bosi?” the same deep voice from Dave’s room is talking, and once again, I feel a firm grip around my arm. “Jess, please come sit in here. You need to drink this.”