Learning to Forgive (The Learning Series) (19 page)

The whole day, I can’t sleep as images of Red drift in and out of my mind. What she’s doing and feeling now verses what she was feeling last night. I want to make sure she’s safe for once in her life. So I get up with the decision that I’m bringing her to stay here. It’s irrational and dangerous, but I can’t think of any other way to keep her safe. Now I need to make some changes throughout the house.

Moving my artillery out of the kitchen area and into the third bedroom/office was a bitch, but I went ahead and cleaned my M-16, MP-5 submachines gun, and a few of my pistols. I also changed the lock just to be on the safe side. Wanting Red to not need anything, I went to the store and picked up all kinds of girlie shit. I just threw any damn thing I saw in the cart. Even went to the mall and bought her some dresses and those stretchy pants I see chicks wearing at the gym. Unsure of Red’s size, I asked a random woman who had a similar build her size. She was happy to tell me and even offered to try some on for me. I tried not to be a complete dick and threw a hundred dollars at her before walking away.

Now I’m back home, placing everything in its place before I go pick her up. Before I can concentrate too much on her in nothing but the tiny piece of black cloth, I shut the drawer and double check everything. All this reminds me of my old life with Carly. We only had one another and lived on cereal or grilled cheese most days. My life then is nothing like my life now.

Hyde isn’t happy with me bringing her here, but when I told him he could get over it or find another place to live, he shut up. I knew he wouldn’t leave. He keeps me up-to-date on any new information regarding our job or Polesky. Plus, I know he’s worried more than anything, because it’s not part of the deal. And if she is working with Polesky, I’ll basically be cutting both of our throats. But my gut tells me she’s innocent in all of this, and it’s never let me down before.

With nothing else to do around the house, I call Janet. When I tell her about my plan, she isn’t surprised. In fact, she tells me she had no plans to get Red from the hospital today because she knew I was going to do it. The thought of her knowing my decision before I did is unnerving, but I shake it off and get in my car to head to get Red. I don’t know how she’ll react, but I don’t care either.

“Knowing you care is enough. I hope.”

~Blaire

Blaire

“I have to work so I won’t be there. I don’t want you to worry though because someone’s picking you up for me. Okay, Mouse?” Janet asks on the other end of the phone.

I can’t help my mind from wondering if she really has to work, or if she’s just ashamed of me. I don’t dwell on it though. My body hurts too damn much.

“Yeah.” My lip throbs with every movement as the fresh stitches pull. But that pain is nothing compared to how my soul suffers. Every time I close my eyes, my new nightmare morphs with the old. And I can’t shake either one. So, to make it tolerable, I concentrate on the only good thing I can. Lyric.

I see him coming to help me and saving me from harm. I know it sounds stupid, but in my head, he doesn’t just stop last night’s frightening incident from taking place. He prevents both.

We hang up the phone, and I let the silence of my room invade my mind as I lay on my side. I can’t help but do the same thing I’ve done since I woke up. Look out the window of my hospital room and try to see something-
anything
- good in this world. Something that will make the suffering and pain I’ve felt for as long as I can remember worth it in the end. But it’s not there and hasn’t been since before mom died. It seems things have only dwindled and turned out worse. Every inch of me and every layer of mass that creates this body I find myself in feels tired and lonely. How are there so many people in this world, if all life gives you is something else to fear and cry about? I don’t have an answer and fear I never will. I can’t see anything beautiful or worth living for any longer.

As the nurse pushes me out in a wheelchair, I grip the card from the lady who came and talked to me earlier in my hand a little tighter. She was respectful of my silence and never pushed me to talk. Even though I didn’t like her, I didn’t push her out or ask her to leave. My lip hurt too damn bad.

Her soft voice never reprimanded me for my whereabouts last night. I figured someone in such nice clothes would tell me I shouldn’t have been out drinking alone in such a bad part of town, but she didn’t. She just told me about herself and business. She works with people who’ve been in similar situations and wants me to contact her if I want to talk about anything. Even though I don’t, I still can’t bring myself to throw away the card in my hand. It’s a lifeline, and I’m terrified of letting it go. All my other ties have been cut, so why not have a false friendship in my head that lets me believe I’m not completely alone in this world?

Sitting in the hospital front lobby, I wait for Janet’s friend to pick me up and take me to her place. When I see that familiar silver sports car pull up, my heart starts beating wildly. How am I supposed to face him after last night?

Lyric steps out with his sunglasses on and black leather jacket blocking the fall chill. He looks menacing, and I guess he can be. But he was just protecting a friend, and it was two against one, so in my head, he had no choice. When he struts into the lobby, everyone’s eyes turn his way. My throat convulses when he’s directly in front of the wheelchair, towering over me, and he takes in my face. His sunglasses block his eyes from my sight, but I feel his stare. Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, I look down and see his fist clenching so tight that his knuckles are white. My palms become sweatier with every second that passes. Does he blame me for what happened, and for his having to take not just one life, but two?

Trying to distract my thoughts, I study the words on the card. Then a shadow overcasts me and I look up. He bends down and easily lifts me in his arms. I automatically latch my arms behind his head, but keep my head down, so not to make eye contact. I hear the nurse tell him sternly how that’s not how they’re supposed to discharge patients into their waiting vehicles. Lyric just ignores her and deposits me in the passenger seat. He even buckles me up like a five-year-old who can’t take care of their self. Either he thinks I’m stupid and incapable of the small act, or he cares. Somehow, I think it’s the former and not the latter.

I don’t feel like talking, so the drive is silent and awkward. Should I tell him thank you again? Or does he not want to be reminded of last night’s incident? Turning to look out the window, I get a glimpse of myself for the first time. My right eye is swollen and three different colors, and my bottom lip is stitched and puffy. My fingers go to touch it, but another hand gently grabs my fingers before they make contact.

“Don’t touch it,” he says. He keeps his hand on mine for a few more seconds before releasing me.

Not wanting to argue or talk, I do as he says with my heart slamming against my chest. I avoid the mirror at all cost and close my eyes, or eye, instead. When the car engine cuts off, I look up wondering why I’m at his house. I can’t help but speak up, no matter how much pain it causes. “Why are we here?”

“Because this is your new home.”

I’m puzzled and give him my full attention. “I thought I was staying with Janet?” When he doesn’t say anything, my mind thinks the worst. Janet doesn’t want me around her. Why else would she turn me away?

“That’s for Janet to discuss with you, not me.” He goes to open the door and my hand lands on his heavily tattooed arm.

“Is it because of what happened at Chris’s?” I ask in a whisper while shame surrounds me. He doesn’t say anything and I start to panic. I need him to know that’s not the real me. “I’m not a drug user.”

His words are clipped and gruff. Void of caring. “I’m not your judge, so you don’t need to explain anything to me.” Then he exits the car and slams the door.

I’ve broken everyone’s trust in me? Just because I wanted sleep?
After a few deep breaths to calm myself and keep the tears away, I finally drag myself up the steps. I’m grateful to have a place to go and not be alone, but I didn’t expect to be so close to Lyric. And I don’t want him thinking the worst of me.

When I walk inside and pass through the foyer, I come to the living room. I see Hyde on the couch looking at his laptop. He looks up but gives no reaction to me standing there in a large t-shirt and jeans. He doesn’t even say anything. Just gets back to looking at whatever is on his computer screen. It’s as if I’m not there.

“Blaire?” I look forward and see Lyric down the hall. “You’re staying in my room.”

Following his lead, I tail behind him to his room. He’s grabbing some clothes and putting them in a bag. I start to panic because I don’t want to be alone. Even if he doesn’t trust me. “Are you leaving me?” I grip the card tightly in my hand.

He stops and looks at my face before his gunmetal eyes land on my hands in front of me. He shakes his head and continues to pack. “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

Relief washes through me. The thought of being alone is frightening. I’ve been alone for off and on this past year, but now, I don’t think I can do it.

“I have one rule in my house. And I expect it to be followed.” He carries his bag over his shoulder and approaches me as I stand by the door. “No one comes here. No one knows where I live, and I expect it to stay that way.”

I nod my head even though that request seems strange. I won’t question it though. Most people have things they don’t want others to know about them. Plus he’s allowing me to stay here until I’m better.

After he leaves, I sit on the large, wooden bed. I feel drained physically and emotionally, but I’m too scared to sleep. I don’t have any medication to make me numb and so out of it that I can’t dream. I’ve never felt more alone than I do right now. Even after Benji died, I knew I could call Janet. In the back of my mind, I always had somewhere to go, and someone to count on. Now I don’t know what I’ll do when I’m recovered enough to leave. As I continue to think, I feel my eyelids get heavy, so I lay my head on the cool pillow. The smell of Lyric surrounds me, and I inhale deeply. I’m so sore, and my head throbs, but with that smell, I feel okay. I feel like I’m not totally alone and that he’s here with me.

When I open my eyes again, the sun’s down. I slowly sit up and stretch, amazed that I fell asleep. I look on the bedside table for a clock or my phone, but instead, I see a bowl of soup and a glass of water. My stomach growls when the chicken soup’s aroma reaches me, and my mouth starts to water.

There’s a light knock on the door, and Hyde walks in carrying my duffle bag. For a moment, I was excited about not being alone again, but seeing his face pulled into a frown lets me know he doesn’t want me here. “Here.” He places it on the floor by my feet and makes his way out again.

Without thought, I ask, “Where’s Lyric?”

“Out.” Then he shuts the door.