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“And you know what I’m thinking?”
“Enough!” Marty yells. His face is red and tear-streaked, and his lips are peeled back, exposing his teeth in a rage-filled expression that makes him look feral. He rubs his nose with the back of his hand, and his chest heaves as he looks between Jackie and me. “This is the kind of shit that rips a family apart. This, right here.”
He grabs his wallet and phone off the circular side table and heads for the door. “I’m going home.” Marty turns to face us as he holds the door open with his foot. “You’re not going to forget what is said today, on the day of Mom’s…” his bottom lip trembles as he’s unable to finish his sentence. “Choose your words carefully.”
Not another word passes between Jackie and me, not even when we leave the hospital, and she drives me home. And not even when I get out of the car.
My thoughts are loud enough. Like a megaphone inside my head, “Baby gate!” “Dehydration!” and “Sepsis!” blare at the highest volume as if coming from a tiny cheerleading squad buried deep inside my brain tissue, waving their pom-poms and reminding me that Mom’s death is entirely on me.
I did this. She’s dead because of me.
As I stop halfway up the stairs, I notice a small spot of blood that Dan must’ve missed. The sight of it sends me to my knees, and my entire body shakes with the force of my sobs. It doesn’t matter how hard I scrub that wall. The memory of what happened here will always remain.
“Mom,” I cry out to no one as I inch back down the stairs. “Mom.” At some point, darkness creeps in through the corners of my vision, and I picture her face, hoping she’s about to take me with her.
CHAPTER 13
MYLO
It has been over a week since I saw Samantha at the hospital. I had hoped our reunion would take place under happier circumstances, but today is her mother’s funeral, and even though we have not spoken, and I have no idea where we stand, I’m going to be there for her.
Zev and I ride to the church in Kyan’s Mercedes SUV while Axil and Vanessa follow us in his truck. The church is crowded when we arrive, and I spot Samantha at the front pew flanked by Jackie and Jackie’s husband, Dan, I think his name is. Two young boys encircle Jackie, one tugging on her hand, and one wrapped around her leg. Samantha’s expression is stoic, which does not surprise me. The walls around her heart are up, surrounded by a moat filled with sharks.
She may think she’s made of steel, but I see the cracks in her armor, the dark circles beneath her eyes, the pallid shade of her otherwise glowing complexion, and the flatness of her curls. Samantha is struggling.
“I’m going to go see her, okay?” Vanessa says to Axil. “I’ll be right back.”
Once she’s out of earshot, Axil leans toward me. “Are you well, brother?”
I shrug.
The sex friendship Samantha and I had is no longer a secret. Nor is the fact that we began a very short-lived relationship. On the way from the hotel to the hospital, I texted my brothers to let them know what happened, as I was not sure how long I’d be by Samantha’s side.
By the time I left the hospital and came home, Samantha was no longer my girlfriend, and I was upset, feeling powerless about the whole situation. I told them everything, Vanessa, too, and they’ve continued to check on me every day since.
After that first day, I tried brushing this off. She had a point about my eyes not changing for her. It’s not as if we were together for long either. Moving on should not be difficult. But I have tried forgetting her. I’ve tried turning my focus to my work. There is certainly plenty to do with the upcoming fundraisers I’ve planned and the recent graffiti that was sprayed over the posters advertising Uma Sinner’s story hour we had hanging in the front windows. But it’s not working. Nothing has worked to remove her grip on my soul.
I think of her constantly, and my draxilio is in even worse shape. He whines day and night until I can take no more of it and let him out. The moment I shift, he takes me to her house, and he remains hovering above her roof, flapping his wings through the sticky, stifling summer air, wondering if she’s all right, hoping to catch a glimpse of her until his wings grow tired and he lets me have control.
“Here,” Kyan says, stopping at a pew in the middle of the church. He enters the row and takes his seat, but Zev, Axil, and I remain standing, unsure of the etiquette. Should I approach Samantha now and offer my condolences? Or wait until after the service?
Ultimately, I decide to wait. If she is doing her best to keep it together, I don’t want to be the reason she crumbles.
After Vanessa returns to Axil’s side, I notice a pair of elderly women approach Samantha, and her smile is tight as they speak to her. More people filter into the church, and the pews start to fill. Minutes from the official start of the service, a wheezing cough meets my ears and sends a chill down my spine.
Turning toward the source, I see Officer Burton at the back of the church, standing next to a woman who looks vaguely familiar, but I’m having trouble placing her.
Axil and Vanessa don’t, though, and simultaneously groan at the sight of her. “Of course, Beth is here with that fucker,” Vanessa whispers to Axil.
I’m not entirely sure what that means, but it doesn’t seem like a compliment.
The moment Samantha registers their presence, I can’t help but smile at the defiant, barely contained fury that flashes across her face. I can see it all playing out beforehand, but as the moment unfolds in the present, it’s even sweeter to watch. She gently, but firmly nudges people out of her way as she strides down the center aisle. She stops a few feet in front of the duo and says, “Nope. Get the fuck out. Both of you.”
All chatter in the church ceases immediately as heads turn in her direction. Officer Burton and Beth remain silent, somewhat taken aback by her demand.
Samantha is not deterred.
“You heard me,” she says, pointing at the door. “Out.”
