Bittersweet Chronicles: Pax (26 page)

“Hey, I wrote some of those really old songs,” he tells me. “What is it?”

“'Wild Horses.'”

“The Stones. Good choice,” he says, his tone full of admiration. “Sounds like your old man did something right.”

My heart gives an extra beat at the mention of my dad. In the back of my mind, I know I’m eventually going to have to mourn him, but there’s been no time since his death, and now certainly isn’t right either.

“He loved the classics,” I tell Mike.

He nods and plays the opening chords to the song. After the intro, he starts to sing softly, his voice very deep and gravelly. He tips his chin at me, indicating that I should join in, and I do, reaching over and taking Pax’s hand at the same time.

We spend the next half hour singing song after song—some Lush songs, some classics that I suggest, and finally a few of Pax’s originals.

As the final notes of Coldplay’s “Always in My Head” fade away, Mike whispers, “Damn,” then takes his hand off the guitar strings. “I really thought music might be a key,” he says, shaking his head.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I blink rapidly, trying to keep them from falling. I’d guessed that was the plan. Play him the right music and Pax would come back to us. I’m surprised no one tried it before now, but I guess everyone’s been so focused on the constant rotation of people, food, doctors, long-distance phone calls—the business of trying to keep hope alive—that they didn’t think about specific things that might trigger his consciousness.

I clear my throat before I speak. “Maybe it will be,” I say, my words more hopeful than my heart. “We can try some more later—or tomorrow. Whatever.”

He leans down to place the guitar in the case. “Yeah,” he answers, but I can tell he’s discouraged. He stands and stretches. “You want to watch a movie?”

“Thanks, but I think I’m going to read some more. I’m dying to know how this book ends.”

“Okay. Just yell if you change your mind. I have a ton of things loaded on here.” He gestures to his iPad as he picks it up from the sofa.

I smile in return, and he flops down on the couch, kicking his feet up and getting settled before he puts a set of headphones on and starts watching.

After I get my book, I take Pax’s hand again and rub my thumb across his palm while I read. The feel of his skin is comforting to me and disconcerting at the same time. It’s familiar and safe, but it also reminds me of when he would touch me consciously, tenderly. If I think about it too much, my heart aches, so I try to focus on the story I’m reading about a girl caught in a post-apocalyptic world where humans are hunted by an alien race using artificial intelligence and super-powered crystals.

Minutes tick by, the only sounds Mike’s occasional laughter as he responds to whatever is playing on his screen. I’m at a terrifying part of the book when I suddenly hear a raspy voice slice through the darkness.

“Why’d you stop?” he asks.

My heart nearly leaps out of my chest as I jerk, inadvertently pulling my hand back. But Pax squeezes it as I do, refusing to release me.

I stand and look down at him, certain that my mind is playing tricks on me. His soft eyes are open, blinking slowly as his lips tip in a ghost of a smile.

“Hey,” he says as he returns my gaze. “Why’d you stop singing?”

“Pax?” I squeak out. “Oh my God…” I’m unable to get another word out as sobs rack my body.

I put my free hand to my lips, trying to smother the anguished sounds coming out of my mouth.

“Hey, hey,” he whispers. “It’s okay. Don’t cry, Carly.”

“Oh my God.” My voice shakes. “Mike! Mike!” I’m practically screaming, frantic for Mike to hear me over his headphones.

He does and leaps up immediately, tearing the headphones from his ears and knocking the iPad on the floor. He stares at me then looks down at Pax.

“What are you doing here, man?” Pax asks, his voice like sandpaper across smooth wood in the quiet of the room.

“Holy shit, kid.” Mike steps closer to the bed, running a hand across Pax’s hair as if he needs to touch him to confirm he’s real. “You’re back.”

“Have I been out a long time?” Pax asks, his eyes darting between Mike and me.

“Yeah,” Mike whispers, his eyes filling with tears. “It’s been a long time.”

The tears are streaming down my face, and I can’t hold back another sob, drawing Pax’s gaze back to me.

“Please don’t cry, baby,” he says softly. “It’s all going to be okay.”

“Yeah,” Mike concurs. “It’s all going to be just fine now.”

**

Pax

The first thing I’m conscious of is Carly’s voice. She’s singing “You’re My Best Friend” by Queen. I’ve always loved that song. It’s one Mike taught me when I was in junior high. Her voice is soft and light, and it sends warmth all through me, starting at my toes and flowing up to my heart, where it lodges. The ache it brings reminds me that I’m forgetting something. Something important. Carly needs me for some reason, and I have to get to her.

I struggle to pry open my eyes, but I keep drifting off, the notes of the song soothing me, and the warmth making me tired.

At some point, though, I realize she’s stopped. The music is gone, and I want it back. I want her back, and I know the only way is to open my eyes and ask.

When I finally scrape my lids wide, the first thing I see is my angel. Her long, silky hair hangs down alongside her face as her head dips over the book on her lap. Her hand is in mine, and she’s stroking her thumb along my palm. I feel every movement like my nerve endings are super sensitized. I just want to fall into her and breathe her in.

“Why’d you stop?” I ask.

She shoots up out of her seat like she’s been electrocuted. Her book falls to the floor and her eyes grow wide, her mouth a small “o” of shock. I grip her hand tighter, afraid she’ll run from me if I don’t anchor her here.

“Hey. Why’d you stop singing?” I ask again, trying to smile even though my lips are so parched I can barely move them.

The next few moments are a blur of Carly’s tears, and chaos. Mike appears like a dark guardian angel, nurses are called, people are all talking at once, phones are ringing, and in between, people are asking me all sorts of questions and literally poking and prodding me. I start to piece together what’s happened. It’s like some sort of nightmare. I remember Lagazo taking me. I remember being held in the storefront downtown, and then there are these bits and pieces—being in a deep, dark lake, struggling to reach Carly, periods of hearing sounds and being touched, then darkness, silence.

They’ve finally let me raise the head of the bed so I can see everyone better, and I’ve had some water so my throat and mouth aren’t quite so raw. Carly quit crying at some point, and now, she’s standing next to me, holding on to my hand for dear life. I know how she feels. I don’t ever want to stop touching her.

All but one of the nurses has left now, and Mike is out in the hallway, talking to a doctor, when I hear a commotion and the door to my room bursts open.

My mother barrels into the room, gasping, “Pax? Oh my God, Pax!” at the same time.

Carly melts away, and I try to focus on my mom and not search the room for my girlfriend. Mom throws her arms around me, squeezing me hard. Over her shoulder, I see my dad, who I catch wiping tears from his eyes.

“I’m okay, Mom. I promise. I’m fine,” I say as I pat her on the back.

After a moment, she releases me and pulls back, searching my face with her eagle-eyed mom inspection. Tears are still making their way down her cheeks, but she impatiently brushes at them.

“Don’t you ever do that to us again,” she reprimands, trying to inject a stern tone into her wavering voice.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, looking her in the eyes so she’ll know just how much I truly mean it. “I know I screwed up. I’m just so sorry I scared you guys. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.” She sniffs, giving me another quick, hard hug.

My dad steps up next to her now, and I feel my gut pull as I see the relief on his face. He clasps my hand.

“It’s good to see you, son.” His voice is gruff, and I know he’s struggling not to break down.

“They told me you found me,” I say, my own eyes welling up.

“You know I always will.” He smiles.

I smile back.  I’m painfully aware that he means it. My dad would travel to the ends of the Earth for me. It’s one of the most humbling things I’ve ever felt, and I vow in this moment to spend the rest of my life working to be worthy of his devotion.

“Do I get to see my nephew?”

I look past Dad and see Uncle Joss standing at the door.

“Shit, yeah, you do,” Dad answers, his voice already stronger. “Get in here.”

Joss makes his way to the other side of my bed, and I turn to face him.

“Do I need to say it?” he asks, his countenance grim.

I look down at my lap, remorse soaking me from head to toe. “No, man. Trust me. I’m thinking all of it and then some. I’m done trying to take on the entire world alone.”

“Lesson learned?”

“Lesson learned,” I answer. “I promise.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief then grabs my head and pulls me against his chest. “I love you,” he whispers into my hair.

“Back at you,” I answer when he lets me go.

It’s ten p.m. when things finally settle down in my room. Vaughn and his mom have been by, although he was pretty uncomfortable, so I asked him to come back tomorrow when we can talk. I want to make sure he knows how sorry I am for the mess I made of everything.

I’ve gotten bits and pieces of what happened after I was abducted, but the one thing everyone’s avoided telling me is what happened to Lagazo. It’s pretty clear they’re all talking around it, and that makes me think he’s still out there somewhere, maybe ready to grab me or Carly as soon as we leave the hospital. It’s one reason I blanch when Vaughn says that he’s taking her back to my place where they’re staying.

“Wait, what?” I ask, looking around at Mom and Dad and Aunt Beth, who are the other three people left with Vaughn and Carly. “Do you have security posted over there?”

“No,” Dad answers, darting a glance at Mom. “It’s safe now, Pax.”

“So, Lagazo’s in custody? Why didn’t anyone say so?”
      “Let’s just say Lagazo’s not a threat anymore,” Dad answers. “We can talk more about it tomorrow.”
      “I’m going to be worried about Carly all night if you say something that vague to me. What are you avoiding? I can tell something’s not right about this.”

“I’m okay. Seriously,” Carly tells me with a too-sparkling smile. “Vaughn and Beth are with me, and there’s no way Lagazo can get us now.”

I grit my teeth. “Dad.”

He knows by the tone of my voice that I’m not going to drop this until he comes clean. His chest rises and falls as he sighs. Then he runs a hand through his hair in agitation. My mom has become very interested in folding and refolding some blankets on the sofa. When she’s done that three times, she moves on to straightening the magazines.

“Dad,” I repeat, glaring at him.

He sits on the edge of my bed, and Vaughn looks vaguely ill as he scoots toward the far side of the room and leans against the wall. Carly stands awkwardly by the door to the hall.

“When I found you at the storefront,” my dad begins, “you weren’t alone. I had to step over…a body. To get to you. The cops later identified it as Lagazo, and the investigation they’re doing points to you as the one who shot him.”

My head spins, and for a moment, I see sparks in the corners of my vision.

“Breathe.” My dad’s voice breaks through the haze as his hand squeezes my calf next to him.

“You’re saying I killed him?” I need to get clarification of this.

“The cops are still investigating, but it looks that way, yeah.”

I swallow, my eyes finding Carly’s. She has her arms wrapped around her middle, and she’s pale.

“Hey,” I call to her. “Come here.”

She walks over to stand next to me.

“I’m glad he’s dead,” I tell her, my voice fierce in the quiet of the room. “He can’t ever hurt either of us again.” I reach out and run my hand through her hair, relishing the sensation of it on my fingertips.

“I know you,” she says, looking me in the eyes, her own full of both emotion and tears. “You’ll hate yourself for doing it. Then you’ll hate me for putting you in that position.”

My dad shifts on the bed, and I know he’s biting his tongue.

“No.” My tone is sharp, but only because I want her to be very clear about this. “
Never
. I was never going to leave you alone in this. We were in it together, and maybe we should have asked for help, but that’s a different issue. There isn’t going to be some moment when I start to resent you, because I will never regret anything I’ve done to protect someone I love.”

I hear a sharp intake of breath from my mom, and Dad clears his throat as he stands. I look at Carly and see her stunned expression, and I realize what I’ve just announced. I’m in love with her.

“I think it’s time for Pax to get some rest,” Dad says to no one in particular. “Sweetheart? Let’s head back to the hotel and get some sleep. I’m sure Carly will stay with him tonight if he wants someone here.”

I look at my mom and watch her struggle not to break out into a grin.
Shit.

“Yes. It’s way past bedtime for old people. Vaughn? Beth? Why don’t we walk down with you?”

Everyone quickly mutters goodbyes, and before I know it, it’s just Carly and me, alone and awkward.

“I can, um, go if you’d rather be alone…” she mutters, gesturing to the door.

“I meant it,” I tell her, and though it’s still hoarse, there’s conviction in my voice.

Her eyes are big as she watches me warily.

“I just about died, Carly. And I haven’t had much time to process that, but the one thing I do know is that the little bits of consciousness I had the last week, the only moments I can remember after being shot and the first thing I can recall when I started coming out of it tonight—it’s all you. Your voice, your face, my
need
to get to you.”