“No!” I shout. “You needed her, and she’s gone now, so go cry to someone else about your sorrow. You won’t get any sympathy out of me. Now, get out!”
He slowly rises, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Tessa, you’re angry, and I get it.” He rests his palm on my leg gently. “But I can help take care of you while you’re healing and your parents are at work.”
If I could spin my head around like the exorcist right now, I would. “Take care of me? I needed you to wait for me. I needed you to love me and be there for me, no matter what. And how did you take care of me? By sleeping with my best friend and betraying me and my trust for almost a year. You are dead to me. I don’t want to see you or hear your voice.” I sniffle.
“Tessa, I…”
“No, don’t call me Tessa. It’s Contessa. You’ve lost the right to call me by my nickname like we are friends, family, or lovers. You are nothing to me, and if you don’t leave this room right now, I’m going to scream.”
He grabs my head, pressing his forehead against mine. “Please, baby. I’ll die without you.”
“Good!” I shriek, pushing him back hard with two hands, knocking him down onto the hard tile. “You can join Maureen inhell and fuck her there. Enjoy.” I cross my arms and glare down at him as he stares at me, dumbstruck.
“You don’t mean that,” he staggers to a stand, brushing off the back side of his jeans.
For fuck’s sake. What does it take to get him the fuck out of my room?
I grip my call button tightly and slam my finger down on it.
The same nurse as before speeds into my room seconds later, carrying my ice water. She sets it on my table and says, “Did you remember what you called me for before?”
I grip her scrubs and say through clenched teeth, “Get him out of my room. I don’t want him to visit again.”
The nurse gazes down at my fingers wrapped around the material of her top and nods slowly. “No problem.”
I release the fabric, and she turns to Jayce. “You heard her—time to go.” She stands between us and points at the door. “Move.”
Jayce doesn’t move. He stands there like concrete is holding him in place. His face turns pale and gaunt. “No,” he whimpers, his voice like that of a whiny child whose favorite toy was just taken away. “She needs me.” His eyes lock on mine as a tear drips off his chin.
The nurse laughs outwardly. “Don’t test my patience today, kid. It’s been a long eight hours, and I still have eight more to go.” She positions herself closer to him, her body nearly touching his. “Do I need to have you removed by security?”
He puts his head down and shakes it. “No, ma’am.”
“Good.” The nurse keeps walking forward as Jayce walks backward out of the room. Once he’s completely out of sight, the nurse turns to me. Her mouth opens to say something, but immediately closes as the PA system crackles overhead. “Code Blue, Emergency Room. Code Blue, Emergency Room.” Itcrackles again and falls silent. The nurse vibrates her lips and turns away from me without another word.
I stroke the discolored, burned skin spots on my arms and wonder if they will scar. Tattoo cover-ups are always an option, and I may need to consider them in the future.
I’m so tired, but falling asleep scares me. I flick on the television. A newscaster is standing in front of a burnt-up vehicle sitting on the flat bed of a tow truck. My lips move as I read the tagline.
“One person is dead, and another is hospitalized after a fatal accident on Friday evening.”
They found Maureen.
A coroner’s vehicle flashes across the screen before the television goes from reporting tragedy to reporting about a local festival happening this weekend. How quickly they move on.
I force my eyes open wider with my fingers, trying desperately to stay awake. What if that’s where the demon lingers? He can send a message through a fiery piece of paper, but is that all? Is that what the contract states? There has to be more to this. Nothing in this life is free, and making a deal with the devil, a demon entity, or man-creature is no different. In fact, I’m sure the price of signing my life away in blood will be much greater.
Priceless even.
My head aches as I try to pull the memory of the moment he slapped the fiery page before me, asking me to sign it in blood. The blurry words, all foreign to me, were more like symbols. God, I wish I could remember and see the page clearly.
The PA system crackles overhead. “Code Red. Lobby. This is not a drill.”
Once again, my nurse flies into the room. She swings my door around, not quite closing it before racing down the hall, followed by two other nurses.
Seconds later, I hear it, faint at first but growing in intensity.
Screaming.
