Jaymes

My breath comes slow, loud in my ears as I exhale. My vision is blurry when I first open my eyes, but clears as my hearing does.

“. . . it’s a very nice purse, but she has no style. I’ll carry it around and everyone will think you gave it to me.” Shayna’s shrill voice. I close my eyes again, hoping to escape this nightmare and wake up. But this is it.

“I did.” The voice that follows is harsh and full of hate. Reggie. “Anything she has is mine. I wonder how much this ring is worth?”

My heart stops dead in my chest. I want to see my hand, look at my finger, but I fear I’m safer asleep. Like a spinning Rolodex, my thoughts roll out of control.

Derrick.

Ace.

My mom.

Phone.

Ring.

Pen.

Keys.

Nothing.

I’ve got nothing. It was all in my purse.

I’ve got nothing to fight with, nothing to protect myself with. Nothing.

Shayna’s voice is close when she says, “Let me have the ring, Reggie. We’ll get married—”

“Shut up. I can’t hear myself think. Go clean something.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.” By the clapping of her heels against the floor, she storms out.

He yells, “Leave the purse.”

My foot is hit and I can hear the jingle of my stuff falling out of the bag.

Once we’re alone again, he says, “I know you’re awake.”

I slowly open my eyes and see what I was dreading—my hand in front of my face, my finger bare. Tilting to look where his voice came from, he’s sitting on a short stool near my knees.

Rubbing his forehead, he says, “Sit up.” His voice is calm, unaffected by drugs, the way I remember from high school.

Slowly, I push up, the shooting pain blinds the left side of my skull and I reach to cover it, hoping pressure relieves it.

A long exhale is blown in my direction, and he says, “This ring makes us even.” I’d argue, but I know it’s of no use. “Rebel was my idol. He was the last person I ever expected to betray me. You, definitely.” He laughs to himself. “I knew you would. That’s why this whole situation is so ironic. He did and you didn’t. You took his debt for that drug drop like a champ.”

“I had no choice.”

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong. You did. You had a choice, but you stood by him even when he didn’t stand by you.”

“What do you want?”

“This ring is a good start, but nothing you do will take away his betrayal. Did he really think I wouldn’t find out? I would have done life for that crime. He wanted me gone and for what? So he could play guitar in some pansy-ass band? Fuck that.” He tosses my phone at me and hits me in the arm. When it lands, the screen lights—Ace.

“Have you ever had déjà vu, Jamie? Fuck, I just had it. You look a lot like your dad.”

Death. I will kill him if he continues. “Don’t.”

“Don’t? Ha! Fuck, that’s exactly what I told him, but he never did listen. Fucking drug addict. I saw him after Rebel beat the shit out of him. He came by my ma’s place before she died. Looking for a hit, anything he said. I told him to go clean up. As a favor to you. I told him to go home and don’t go take that next hit. Fucker didn’t listen. Did you know they found his body?”

“Reggie, please, if we ever had any nice thoughts toward one another, I beg you to not finish this story.”

“This is what you’re begging for? I’ve got to give you credit. You’re a lot tougher than Rebel ever was. So as I was saying, he was found under the highway. Clothes stolen. Everything gone.”

Numbness has a feeling and it spreads. It creeps through the veins icing them over along the way. Sometimes it bypasses the heart leaving you vulnerable to the things that shouldn’t matter. Making them matter more. My father is dead. Numb. Tears for a man that never loved me enough to raise me come forward, the ice of my heart thawing under the mess of the situation I’ve found myself in.

Shayna comes in and says, “I see the bitch is awake. That’s a nasty bruise you got there.” She crosses her arms and stares down at me from behind Reggie.

Just when I thought I could reason with Reggie, his usual disgusting self returns. “He never replied. I think there might be trouble in paradise. Fucking groupies takes time, time he doesn’t have to take your call. So, how are we going to do this? We can make another baby together?”

He’s pushed from behind and Shayna leaves again, the slam of a door down the hall reflecting her anger. My body convulses, rejecting even the words from his mouth, and I throw up.

“Gross. Guess kissin’s out. How about me and Shayna raise my son? She wants a baby awful bad.”

“I will die before I let you take him.”

“You’re gonna die anyway, so let the games begin.” The stool flies out from under him and slides across the kitchen floor. I scramble to my feet but am grabbed under my arms and slammed against the wall near the door, making the door rattle. I push off his chest as he pins me. One hit to his ear shakes him, but he laughs. Lifting my knee in the space between, I keep him at a distance while I claw the side of his face.

In a hit to my left side, the pain explodes and my vision goes black. But still I fight. I fight for me. I fight for Ace. I fight for Derrick. I fight for the life I deserve. My vision is blurry as color comes back. Swinging my right, I land a hit that sends him down. With my boots, I kick him so hard that he falls the rest of the way to the floor. I kick him again before turning and opening the door.

I run. Jumping down the steps, gunfire rings out, and I fall to the grass.

“Drop your weapon.” Commotion surrounds me—red and blue lights flashing. Another shot is fired after the warning.

I’m not sure at first if I’m shot or not, but I lie there frozen as police swarm the lawn and the house.

“Roll over,” I’m commanded.

When I do, the officer has a radio to his mouth. “Victim has been identified.”

Through the police telling me to lie there until the ambulance arrives and being lifted on a gurney, I stare into the clear night sky, searching for something to hold on to in my mind.

Peace is found.

Andromeda and Perseus.

I stay there until the paramedics arrive, decide I need further examination, and that they need to transport me. I’m lifted into the ambulance and taken to the hospital. When the doors close, I ask, “Is he dead?”

The paramedic sitting next to me doesn’t make me work for it. He knows who I’m talking about. “No. He’s being taken to the hospital.” When I look away, he adds, “Gunshot wound. Shot by the police.”

Even though I’ve prayed for Reggie’s death many times, I don’t wish for it now. Something about a life dying always goes hand in hand with sadness. It’s not sadness I feel for him, it’s not sympathy or respect. I’m numb when it comes to my emotions regarding him. It was always going to be him or me. I need to live for Ace. For Derrick, and for me. So sympathy is not something I can garner for Reggie Rogers.

I have no idea what time it is or even which hospital I’m going to. They confiscated my phone but called my mom for me. She must be beside herself. I’m hoping she stayed home with Ace though. I don’t want him to see me in the hospital. It would terrify him.

I’m pulled from the back of the ambulance and pushed into the bright lights of the hospital corridor. I stopped listening to the medical words being tossed around when I was told I’d be all right. It was hard to decipher the other words, my thoughts fuzzier as time moves on . . .

Derrick is my most favorite thing to do, and watch, and listen to. No one plays the guitar like he does. He compliments me, but I’ve been slow to learn. Getting better every day since he gave me my guitar. I’ve been messing around with a song I hope to play on his birthday. Return the favor and all that. I’ve already got the guitar that cost more than I should have spent, but he’ll do wonders with it. I just know it.

. . . a familiar melody travels through my thoughts, notes I cherish every time I hear them. My throat is dry when I swallow, so I cough. “Drink this.”

Opening my eyes, I smile, then leave it behind. It hurts too much. “You’re here?”

Derrick’s hand caresses my cheek, that look of concern I hate seeing on his face ever present. “Drink first.” A fire burns down my throat and I take a sip from the straw. “Why’d you have to go and be the hero?” The concern renders itself to a smile that I find comfort in. “I could have used some of that glory.”

“Your ego’s big enough. You are a rock star after all.”

“Yeah, guess it was your turn.” He kisses my head and says, “Reggie’s dead.”

“I had a feeling, but I didn’t ask. He took my ring.”

“He took my girl. The ring is replaceable. You’re not.”

“I just got it though.”

He laughs out loud and in it I find the peace I need. “We’ll get you a better one.”

A nurse walks in and smiles when she sees us. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

She exams me and then says, “The doctor will be by shortly.” After adjusting the bed so I’m angled up, she says, “The man they brought in right before you didn’t make it.”

I nod. She continues, “He died in the ambulance on the ride over.”

“I don’t want to hear about him. Not ever again.”

“I understand but I was hoping you could piece together a mystery for me.”

Derrick takes hold of my hand, and asks, “What is it?”

“The paramedics called ahead for plasma for a potential transfusion. We’re short, so we searched our area blood banks for the type we needed, and a nurse checked his file for next of kin. Your son Ace was—”

“No.” Anger surges and I sit up, dizziness striking quick. “Please tell me they didn’t touch my son to try to save him?”

The nurse and Derrick gently press me back. She says, “Everything is okay. We need to keep your blood pressure from spiking like it just did.”

“I don’t care about that. I care about Ace. What about my son?”

“You had his blood tested at birth? It’s not that common to do.”

“My mother said I should just in case there was an emergency. She had done the same with me.”

“Smart. It’s always good to know and most don’t have that information. Your son’s medical record shows he’s blood type AB.”

“Yes, I know. And?” I press her like I’m pulling teeth.

She stops messing with my covers and looks me in the eyes. “The man they were bringing in was blood type O. That’s not a match.”

“That’s not a match?”

Derrick releases my hand and rests his hands on the bed. Staring at her, he asks, “Not a match?”

“There’s no way he can be his father. O doesn’t make an AB in any combination.”

Dropping back against the bed, I look at Derrick. “Oh.”

“Not to pry, but if I can help you in any way, I will.”

When Derrick turns to me, our eyes meet and the air between us stills. “What have I done?” I close my eyes, wanting to disappear, hoping to wash away the image of Reggie forever. When I open them, I say, “They told me. When I went to my first appointment. I prayed. I begged God. I wished on the stars that he was yours. But the math. They counted back and told me. There was no way.”

The nurse’s cold hand covers mine, but I welcome the cooling relief. “Mistakes are made. I’m so sorry this one was made with you.”

“Mr. Masters, do you know your blood type by chance?”

“I have a medical card.”

“If you’d like I can find out.”

The humiliation of the situation makes me feel hot and uncomfortable, exposed. “I wasn’t with anyone else.”

She smiles. “There are no judgments here. Just science.”

“He raped me.” Even now, I can barely get the words out.

A gasp followed by sympathetic eyes come. “I’m so sorry.”

Derrick intervenes, “You did nothing wrong, Jaymes. You don’t owe us anything.”

“I owe you everything.” When I dare look in his eyes, they’re glassy. “Ace.”

Reaching over me, he embraces me carefully, dropping his head on my shoulder. As I hug this big muscle of a man, I feel his tears through the thin cotton. The nurse leaves quietly and he says, “I’m a dad.”

“You’re a dad.” My heart aches for him and what was stolen away. “I’m so sorry.”

His head jerks back and he sits down on the edge. “Sorry for what?”

“For the last five years.”

“You sure know how to make up for it. I got married and became a father all in the same day. That’s a damn good day.”

I inhale, my breath jagged. “Stop being so nice.”

Tilting his head, a small smile plays on his lips. “Nice? I’m not being nice, I’m happy to be married to my dream girl and be a daddy to Ace. But Jaymes, seeing that the fucker hurt you not once but twice is killing me. Knowing he touched you today, or ever . . . He’s dead, so he never will again. That also makes this the best day of my life.” He wipes the tears away with the pads of his thumbs and teases, “Now stop raining on my parade.”

Covering his hands with mine, I ask, “Are you really happy?”

“The happiest I’ve ever been. First, I get the honor of marrying my soul mate. Then I find out I’m a dad to the coolest kid I’ve ever met.” Shrugging, he laughs. “I mean, I guess we could have figured this out just by knowing Ace. We took the long route, but we got there in the end.” Leaning down, he kisses me. He should be angry. He lost the first five years of his son’s life. How he can see the good in this is beyond me.

“How are you this good?”

I’m given that signature wink and a smirk. “Oh baby, I was always this good, but I’m happy to remind you for the rest of your life.”