A hand lands on my shoulder, and I turn around and see a minister, a pastor, a father, whoever he is. He’s wearing a black shirt and a white collar.
Whoever is he, he’s the voice of God, and me and God, well, I don’t want to talk to him right now.
I’ve never talked to him, honestly, but I’d do anything for my mom. If the Devil came to me and asked for my soul in exchange for her life, without hesitation, I’d give it away. I’d do it for Jo too. She and I haven’t had much time to ourselves; too much has happened, with me saving everyone and her fighting the darkness inside her.
I want peace.
I want everyone in my life to be fucking happy. I need them to be. I need Jo to be. I love her. I love that baby.
I want life to stop fucking with me, for once. I want a goddamn break.
I shrug the man’s hand off me and grip him by the collar. “I’d rather die than pray,” I seethe through my teeth.
“Eric!” Jo snaps at me from the doorway. “Let him go, baby. He’s only trying to help.”
“He can’t,” I choke, letting him go and stumbling back. “No one can.”
“I can,” Jo says confidently, holding out her hand while she balances herself on the crutch. “Come on, let’s go somewhere quiet. Let’s talk.”
I don’t want to talk.
I want to kill.
I want to kill so fucking bad. With my bare hands, I want to squeeze the life out of someone, somewhere. The need is overwhelming.
“God is with you always,” the man of God informs me, slapping me on the shoulder.
“God left me a long time ago,” I add, sliding by the pastor and to the only person I think can save me. I intertwine Jo’s fingers with mine, then say forget it because she can’t hold onto me and her crutches. I bend over and throw her over my shoulder, grabbing her crutches in my other hand.
“Woah, put me down! I swear, you guys carry me everywhere. You’re going to make me vomit. The baby doesn’t like it when I’m upside down.”
I bring her into my arms, in a wedding style hold, and I lift a brow at her. That feeling of needing to murder takes over my veins. “Who the hell has been holding you besides me?” I’m not in the mood to know one of my brothers has touched what is mine.
“Knives, making sure I didn’t trip and hurt the baby,” she grumbles.
Oh.
I’ll think about forgiving him.
“We found your mom, and he carried her to the truck.”
I’ll forgive him.
“For tonight, can I just be with you? Tomorrow, I’ll be with my mom. I thought I had three months, and now … maybe a month. I just need a night where I’m not going to be devastated.
“Whatever you want,” she whispers, her lashes tickling my neck. “I’m sorry, Eric. I’m so sorry. I never wanted this for you.”
“I never wanted what happened to you to happen either, but the world can be unfair.”
“It isn’t unfair right now. You’re the one thing the world got right,” she whispers into my ear as she settles her cheek against my shoulders.
“I’d have to agree with that, Jo-love. I’d have to agree,” I say, alleviated, holding her tighter against me. I’m afraid something, some unknown evil in the world will take her from me. I wouldn’t be able to open my eyes the next morning. She’s the only thing that keeps me going. The thought of her living, breathing, before I had the chance to kiss her for the first time, was enough.
Her existence is more than enough to keep my world spinning on its axis.
Walking out the doors of the hospital, I feel horrible leaving Mom here. I’m a bad son. I just… I don’t know. I can’t fucking breathe in that hospital room knowing the breath she’s inhaling is some of the last.
I just need a fucking minute.
I need to be alone with my girl. My woman. My kid.
One night to get my head on straight, and I’ll do whatever I need to do tomorrow when the sun rises over the desert.
I’ll be the man everyone needs me to be.
Tonight, I want to be broken because having it together, stitching yourself up until you’re connecting torn, jagged, cut off pieces…. Eventually everything falls apart.
Maybe I’ve never had myself together, maybe when my dad cut me, he took a part of me I can never get back.
The night air hits me in the face, and when I feel the drying liquid against my face, I forget that I’ve been crying. I stand there for a minute in the silence, the peace, the air, the stars, the dropping sun, and I take my moment.
I fucking reel it in. I never get a moment of peace. Someone always needs a part of me, something from me, my skill, my knowledge, my time; no one ever just wants me. Me as a person, me as a man, me as a friend.
It’s always when someone’s bleeding.
But who is there when I bleed?
Am I the disaster area? Am I where everyone goes to try to get fixed and then I’m left in the debris?
I need a disaster area. I need a place to call my own because I’m not sure how much more weight of the world I can bear. Every cut, every bullet wound, every ounce of blood, every surgery, every time I massage a heart; every time I shock someone to life, it takes a small part of me.
And I don’t know what’s left.
Pieces of me, I suppose.
The unworthy pieces that Jo doesn’t deserve. She needs all of me, and how can I do that when I’m less than half a man?
He didn’t even go to the clubhouse. Eric rented a hotel room down the road from the hospital, so he can stay close just in case anything happens with his mom. He opens the hotel door, and I’m astounded at the sight before me. It’s a suite. There’s a king-size bed to the left, a typical plain desk to the right, but there is a chandelier hanging in the ceiling. There’s a jacuzzi tub in the corner, and a huge vanity against the wall before it disappears into the bathroom. The walls are high, vaulted, reminding me of the ceiling in a church.
“I’m going to take a shower, okay? Relax, order food, watch TV. I’ll be back in a few minutes. I don’t have anything for your bandages, or I’d have you shower with me.” His hand lands on the side of my cheek, but he stares at me for a moment, and he doesn’t say a single word. His eyes are tortured, dark blue stormy orbs that are trying to find the calm. “I love you, you know. I know a lot of shit has gone down. I know we’ve fallen fast, but you and me, this is how it’s supposed to be, Jo. I feel it. In my damn bones, I feel it. Thank you for seeing my mom when you didn’t have to. Thank you for being there. I fucking love you for that.” He smashes his lips against mine. It’s quick, intense, passionate, everything a kiss should be. His tongue tangles with mine, and the space between my thighs tingles, wanting more than just his tongue. I want his body.
I tug on his shirt, gripping the thin material with my fist and deepening the connection, entangling our tongues in a seductive dance. Right as my hand slides up his shirt and his abs ripple against my fingers, he pulls away. His hand squeezes my hip, and he gives me a soft peck, leaving me aching and confused. I know he’s worried about my leg, but I’m fine.
Kind of.
It hurts, but the pain medication helps, and I miss him. We never get time. Selflessly, I understand. Selfishly, I want us to run away and never look back.