Page 100 of Road to Absolution

Just like that, his nightly battle roared to life… and let me in.

Wailing, absolutely howling in pain, Maverick suddenly released me and scurried backward. I rolled over as fast as I could, but by the time I got my belly to follow, Maverick had already fallen to the floor. I expected him to wake from the harsh landing, but instead, he sat there, in his pajama pants, tugging on a seatbelt that didn’t exist. “Oh God, I’m stuck. I’m stuck.”

It was like his dream—his night terror—had simply started over. How many times can someone relive the same nightmare in one night? I don’t know. But Maverick was stuck in some sort of replaying loop. Maybe his tortured mind was simply trying to create a different ending, but couldn’t manage it, therefore, forced my poor husband to relive his ordeal, over and over.

Witnessing this horror, I could practically see parts of his broken spirit blowing in the wind of his personal hurricane.

My bedroom door flew open, but Maverick didn’t react. He sat on the floor, yanking desperately at the seatbelt, nervously looking up as if something was catching his attention.

Diesel, plus many more half-dressed men with disheveled hair, due to running from their own beds, lowered their guns. They now gaped at what I was seeing.

Maverick was staring through me. “Diesel? Is that you?”

Realizing my husband was hoping for him to help the night of the accident, Diesel held on to the door jamb and slowly slid down. Squatting in disbelief, he watched the suffering continue.

Maverick leaned his head back. “No.” He frantically tugged at his seatbelt again. “Fuck. It’s him.” Then he froze, stricken with fear, staring as if something was coming at him. “Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot.”

Oh my God.

He peered up and spoke to someone I couldn’t see. “I’m not unlucky…”

My whole body trembled. He was talking to the man trying to kill him.

“Lilah.”

On the bed, I had to watch my husband call out for me, but not see me. God had answered my prayer. I was now with Maverick, but he wasn’t with me. My shaky hand reached out for him, but Scorch, standing over Diesel, shook his head in warning. He tapped his head and mouthed, “Could hurt you.” He opened his hands, trying to explain Maverick’s state of anxiety. I knew he was speaking of personal knowledge.

If I hadn’t been pregnant, I wouldn’t have cared for my own safety. I would have ignored Scorch’s warning and stepped into Maverick’s ring of fire.

Maverick’s face melted to sadness. “Home,” he cried, “I’m sorry, baby.”

Then his words and thoughts became random. “Crazy love… But I won the fight… Of course, she is!... Lilah… Fuck you, Ref… Son? I’m no one’s son now… Dance with me, my Lilah…”

His mouth started to move as if it were being filled with something—

I seized.

In the hospital, when I had seen him for the first time, nurses were cleaning dried blood from all over his face and—He’s remembering his mouth filling with blood.

As if it was dripping from his mouth again, Maverick sadly said, “I need my wife.”

His turmoil was so palpable, I was struggling to breathe.

Preparing to lurch and rush to him, the men all held up their hands, begging me not to interfere. My hesitancy bought them the time needed for Tucker to reach me. On the bed, he wrapped his arms around me from behind and started rocking my body. I hadn’t realized I was mewing in anguish until he held me, whispering, “I got you. I got you.”

Stuck in a firm embrace, I had no choice but to watch, and not assist my husband. He weakly shook his head as it hung. “No… Not unlucky… I have Light.”

My arms were folded and held to my chest, my hands wringing as I cried. I’m yours. Your Light. I’m yours.

Trapped in a truck that had burnt away weeks ago, Maverick quietly said, “Fight, Boxer Boy.”

The room went eerily quiet. I think all of us now felt his anguish, over a dream dying…

Before I even had time to contemplate such suffering, it compounded. Maverick’s face winced. “It hurts… I’m burning!” He started gasping and choking on smoke that was only in his mind. “I’m on fire!I’m on—Dad! Help me! I’m on fire!”

Fear vibrated off him like flares from the sun. I could see it. I was with him.

I set free a wail of my own.

To a God, whom I now felt was crueler than I ever thought He could be, I screamed!