Page 24 of Trig

She leads me to a different room. “Sit right here on the bed,” she commands.

I do as she requests and watch as she takes off the tourniquet and pulls up my pant leg.

“Back of the leg. Hmm. Okay. I’m gonna need you to turn around and lay down flat on your stomach,” she commands.

I do as I’m told. She examines the wound. “Bullet’s still in there. This is gonna hurt,” she says, as she reaches over, pulls a medical bag out from under a table, slides on some gloves, and gets to work.

“Son of a bitch,” I yell. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“I suppose you need something for the pain, dear?”

“I need a lot of shit right now. My life back. My wife back. My fucking leg. My freedom. My mom. My sister. My brother. My fucking father. Or if that’s not enough, maybe you can conjure up a fucking time machine for me to go back and make different choices. Got that in the tool bag of yours, dear?”

“Pain is our biggest enemy. It does a lot of damage to the mind. You need a break. I can see that. Let me help you.”

I look back to see a big needle inches from my arm.

“Wait a minute. Don’t touch me with that!”

Whatever was in that needle knocked me out in seconds. At some point, I wake up. The morning light hits my face as the sound of birds are chirping. A little bit of panic sets in as it takes a few minutes to become aware of my surroundings. Slowly I recall what happened and how we got here and how I was drugged. I look down and notice I’m lying on the couch. Gabriel probably moved me from the bed after my trip to la la land. The first thing I notice is how quiet the house is. I stand up and quickly limp my way to the kitchen. The table is clean. No blood. No devices. Not one piece of evidence that Nine was lying here last night, fighting for her life. I limp over to the kitchen knives and grab the biggest one. Right then, I hear the creaky sound of a screen door opening and then slamming shut. Gabriel and the older man from last night walk in with sacks of groceries in their arms. I stand there, knife in hand, ready to cut anyone who comes too close. They both stop in their tracks but their faces remain unbothered.

“Where is Nine and where is my daughter?”

“Put the knife down, Trig,” Gabriel asks politely.

“I will burn this bitch to the ground. Where the fuck are they?”

The older woman from last night comes into the kitchen. She stares at me unbothered and then motions to me with one finger. “Come with me, boy.”

I keep the knife pointed at both guys and then I turn it to the woman as I follow her.

“You don’t trust me. I understand. I was trying to help your mind, not hurt you last night. Sometimes the mind is overstimulated and needs to be shut down to rewire itself and you were spinning out. My apologies if I overstepped my place by deciding what was best for you,” she says, as she walks me to a room and opens the door, waving for me to go inside.

I stand in the hallway as she backs up. I cautiously inch closer to the room and peek in. I see Mya asleep next to Nine.

“She’s gonna be okay. She had a septic miscarriage. Remnants of her pregnancy lingered in the uterus and served as a breeding place for infection. He gave her lots of antibiotics. We basically turned our kitchen into a surgery center with the help of another doctor friend of ours who came to help last night. It was not easy as this is a home, not a hospital, but we did it. So, maybe as a thank you, you can put that damn knife down.”

“Thank you!” I say, as I nod, flip the knife handle her way and let her take it.

“None of my business, but I need to ask, I noticed that your wife and that baby have the same tattoo on their neck. Who would do that to a baby?”

“Demons. Demons would do that,” I say, pained.

I approach the bed and look down at Nine. She’s regained some color in her cheeks and lips. I smile, start to tear up, run my hand over my mouth, push down, and quickly pack the feelings away. I then turn my attention to Mya. I run my hand down her cheek before looking back to Nine. I sit down in a chair next to her, grab her hand, and take a deep breath.

“Baby, when we get out of here. I’m going to give us the life we both want, away from all this shit. I’ll give you a hundred kids if you want it. I promise you that.”

The woman clears her throat from behind me which startles me a bit. I thought she left the room.

“There is no easy way to say this. They had to do a hysterectomy to save her life. I’m sorry she won’t be able to have kids ever again.”

I close my eyes tightly and let my head hang low. The hits just keep coming. How do I tell her that she can never bear children? How do I look her in the eye after they beat her, killed our baby, and they did it all to hurt me as a punishment, because no one questions, stands up to, or defies Carmen. No one escapes his grip. At least no one lives to talk about it. Here I am swimming in deep fucking scars myself, but how do I tell her there can be no replacements ever. The very moment she opens her eyes and remembers all the shit she went through will be the moment I also have to add insult to injury, and I don’t want to hurt her anymore. I kiss her hand, stand up, and limp past the woman who has her head down. My mind is racing with thoughts and all I want is Carmen’s head. He will pay.

I attempt to limp toward the front door. Gabriel stops me by blocking my path.

“Where are you headed, Trig?”

“I think you know.”

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