Page 44 of Soul

Her fingers smooth through the hair at my scalp, the same way she’s done a million times before, soothing me even though she’s the one lying in the hospital bed. I smile remembering her quip, and as the tears fall, I lift up from where I was hunched over her bed asleep and curve my head toward the man sleeping curled up in a chair, one far too small for his large frame and respond, “He’ll say it was an exceptional experience sleeping with two women.”

Maria laughs but the jovial full sounds are not there, instead replaced with a wheezing, painful cough. She sits up and then groans clutching at her abdomen. I try to help settle her in a seated position, fluffing her pillows, tucking the blanket into her sides.

Once she seems comfortable, she holds my hand and tugs me to sit on the side of the bed next to her hip. “I tried, Gigi. I tried to get to her faster.” Tears fill her icy gaze making her eyes a darker blue. “Tell me, did she make it?”

I swallow and bring her hand to my face, nodding expeditiously. “She did, but she’s hurt bad. We won’t know her true condition for another few days the doctor said.”

Maria’s jaw tightens and her features turn hard. She’s turning on the façade. I’ve seen it before and I hate it. Hate that she feels she has to guard her emotions, her heart.

“Not with me.” I cup her cheek and slide my thumb over her brow. “No hiding from me.” The mask drops, her lips tremble, and the tears finally fall.

“I should have tried harder. Should have thought to go to her room sooner. Then there were these boards nailed into the window pane and I kicked and kicked,” her raspy voice gets worse, so I place my fingers over her lips.

Shaking my head, I stop her from hurting herself. “No, you saved her, Maria. You. She would have died had it not been for you!” I say the words with as much sincerity and force as I can muster in this small room, trying to be quiet, trying to keep our conversation private.

Maria brings her hand up to mine, the one cupping her cheek, and rubs into it like a cat would. “We’re going to take care of her. Whatever happens…we take care ofnuestra familia.” Our family. Her eyes close and soon she’s fallen back asleep, the drugs pumping steadily through her.

I stand at the side of her bed, lean both arms on the edge and that’s when it happens. My shoulders shake, my spine curving down, and I fall to my knees. It’s too much. Every pore in me seems to feel pain, bone crushing, gut-wrenching, soul-aching pain. And it doesn’t stop. I clutch at my knees and let the tears overwhelm me. The room goes black and I go back to that place.

I’m curled into a fetal position as he stands over me. He kicks at my ribs again. The pain ricochets from my ribs, through my chest and out each nerve ending. I scream in pain, clutching at my abdomen trying to protect our child.

“You missed your fucking period? You say you’re pregnant,” he kicks at me again. “With whose baby you good for nothing whore!”

“Justin…” I beg. “It’s your baby. Ours…” I try again as he kicks me viciously again. The crack of one, possibly two ribs sounds unbearably loud. I clutch at the floor with my fingernails, trying to move, to crawl away but he doesn’t stop.

“We used protection. Every fucking time. That means you were fucking that study buddy. I knew this whole time…you said you loved me. And now, look at you!” he roars. ”Knocked up from a tiny, pencil dicked geek.” He pulls me out of my position, forces my arms wide where he holds them down with the weight of his knees. I try to kick and turn but the pain is so intense I’m losing my vision.

“You know I’m going to kill him with my bare hands. Strangle him until he’s lost all breath and then I’m going to cut off his balls and feed them to him one at a time for touching my property!” He spits in my face then starts back up with the punching. At some point I lose consciousness praying that my baby will survive the blows in equal hope praying that it doesn’t because this is no life for an innocent child.

Cold. So cold. My teeth are chattering as a warm hand slides up and down my back in smooth even movements. “Come back to me, baby. Come home,” I hear the one voice that instantly brings me relief. Chase. He’s here, not Justin. Small kisses line my temple and my forehead. When my body comes back on line, I clutch at him, his strong shoulders, legs wrapping around his tight waist. I feel weightless; he’s standing, and I feel only him. Then I’m back down; he’s sitting, holding me close. Slowly opening my eyes, I can see I’m still in the hospital, the room has a soft, muted glow. I see Maria, asleep in her bed. I’m still here.

“That’s it, honey, you’re okay. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here, bringing you back to me,” Chase coos into my ear. I grip onto his shoulders and lean back. I press my forehead against his and close my eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper not knowing what else to say.

Chase holds me low at the back and shakes his head. “Nothing to be sorry for. You had a moment, baby.” I nod and breathe in his comforting sandalwood and citrus scent. It fills the air around me, and I nuzzle into his neck, portions of the flashback still clawing at my psyche.

I’d missed my period. Told Justin I was pregnant, and he beat the living shit out of me. Every time I recall that night, I wonder what I could have done differently, how I could have turned things around. Perhaps killed him before he killed my baby.

Then it hits me. “How long has it been since our wedding?” I ask on a rushed breath.

“Four days,” Chase says instantly.

I chuckle and rub into his chest, laying my hand over his heart, feeling its steady, strong beat. “No, since Mexico.”

He groans but responds, “About five weeks.” Then he curls a hand around my neck and tips my head up. “Why?” When I look into his eyes, they are filled with love and concern, for me. Nothing but me. I know Chase, the man who loves me, my husband, would go to the ends of the earth for me.

“Five weeks!” I let out in a breath, the two words sending a nervousness so acute it rattles my teeth.

Chase nods, his eyes narrowing. He positions me so I’m straddling him, and one of his strong hands tunnels into my hair holding me at the nape. He maneuvers my head so I’m looking into his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

The last time I told a man this exact thing he beat the shit out of me. Instantly, I feel the tremors of panic starting to build. Chase can sense it because he tightens his hold, bringing me even closer and shakes his head. “Nuh-uh, no way, breathe baby, breathe. You’re safe. You’re here with me, your husband. Nothing can happen to you here in my arms. I’ll protect you.” His words are exactly what I need to hear, the reassurance necessary to continue.

“You promise?” I choke out, shivers wracking my frame as I fear telling him what I need to say.

“Never gonna hurt you, baby. I promise. You’re safe.”

“Chase,” I whisper and look into his eyes, still love and concern there but now hints of fear. He’s afraid. I lick my dry lips and swallow.

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