He turns to me, his eyes filled with melancholy.
“I worked as hard as I could, to give the mother and baby a fighting chance. I tried everything.”
“What happened?” I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, scared of the next words coming out of his mouth.
“I could only save one of them.”
And then I understood what I haven't all along.
"The father, he was distraught but mad. I'd never seen a man that mad. He was hell-bent on making things right, even did CPR on the baby himself. And then his wife woke up a month later with no memory of the accident or anything that happened before then. And that's when he brought me another patient. I didn't quite get the relationship between the two, not until he asked me to do the unthinkable."
“The other woman, who was she?”
I knew the answer before he let the name slip from his slimy lips. I listen to his side of the story, and I am so appalled I have to stop in a restroom and throw up.
I return the items I stole from Sarah, write her a sorry note which I drop in her lap, and make my way back to Mrs. Gregory’s, but not before I slip an envelope in Mrs. Finch’s mailbox.
I pace the small living room that is over-cluttered with furniture. Mrs. G sits in her rocking chair, humming, and knitting a scarf she says compliments my eyes.
“What's the matter, dear?”
"It's nothing," I snap and instantly regret it. "I'm sorry." It doesn't help burning bridges.
“It always helps to get things off your chest,” she continues. This is why I sedate her. This chatter and her attempts at dissecting my life are tiresome. I need to go backhomeif that is what you can call that place. "I have some errands to run, I'll be back tonight, Mrs. G."
She nods and continues knitting. It must be wonderful to be old and unconcerned. I slip out back, jump into her old Datsun, and head off in the direction of Billy's house. I pull up outside and groan when I see Rob's car parked in the driveway. Just my luck.
I walk up the familiar pathway and knock at the door. I no longer just enter for no good reason. I've walked in on a lot of shit in my life. Music is blasting. Walking around back, I enter through the kitchen door. It reeks inside like a dead animal was left to rot. "Billy," I call out, covering my nose with my arm. Passing by the empty living room, I head upstairs. I just want my notebooks, and I'll get the fuck out of here. I hear Rob's disgusting grunts from behind their closed door. I don't know what makes me do it, but I fling the door open. He's stark naked, his disgusting hairy body on Billy, who is - "Is she unconscious?"
His head whips toward me, his eyes are red. "The fuck are you doing here?" he says mid-thrust but doesn't stop.
"Get off her, you fat fuck," I growl and rush forward. Her head is lulling off the bed at an awkward angle. She's got bruises all over her, her neck is covered in finger marks. I drag the fucker off her with all the strength I have. I manage to push him against the wall and lean in to check on Billy. "Fuck." Her pulse is so slight, it's scary.
“Call the ambulance, you fucker.”
"You watch that mouth, whore." He howls, but I am running on adrenaline and am not afraid to kick his ass. He pulls on his pants and leaves the room. The needle stuck in her arm is a clear indication she's been shooting.
"Come on, Billy, why you gotta be such a dumb bitch?"
I rush into the bathroom and get a damp cloth, wiping her face. I dress her in a sleep shirt and shorts, and I turn her onto her side, hoping that'll help with the shallow breathing.
After what feels like forever, the paramedics arrive. They ask me what happened, and I freeze, unable to get a word out. "Please miss, one of them says, we need to know what happened so we can help her."
"I found her like this with her boyfriend. They were shooting.” I point to the needles on the bedside table, including the one that I pulled out of her arm. "He was -." I can't bring myself to say it. "Ask him. He's downstairs."
“There’s nobody downstairs.”
Rob is such a bastard. Leaving her like this. They carry her onto a stretcher, and I follow behind them. "Is she going to be okay?"
The paramedic looks at me, sympathetically. "We will do everything we can."
When they leave, I grab my notebooks, and instead of going to the hospital, I go back to Mrs. G’s. I need some time. Whether Billy lives or dies is not up to me. Besides, she wouldn't want me there. Billy never wants me there. Now I have to figure out how to help Sin. She's worthy of it.
Chapter 20
Sinclair
Isit silently in the passenger seat beside Cohen Finley, a man who used to be my husband. He might still be that on paper, but he's nothing to me. I say nothing in response to his attempts to make conversation. I don't know what he thinks is wrong with me, but I don't really care. He is a lying, cheating scumbag, and I am being accused of murdering his missing whore. Sam got me bail, which was posted at three hundred dollars. Cohen paid it without blinking an eyelid, happy to get his wife out of that place. He had tears of joy when he picked me up.
