Page 23 of Proof

“Cass, can’t see. Gun! Gun! Cass, drop!” I begged. I needed him to hear me so a bullet wouldn’t take him from me.

“JJ, I’m right here. I’m safe. But I need you to do something for me, okay?”

I nodded. I was so relieved to hear him say he was safe that I slumped forward. Something hard but warm brushed against my cheek.

“Close your eyes again.”

Close them, open them, close them. Would the man make up his mind so he’d let me see him already?

I closed my eyes and squeezed them shut like a little kid who was trying to follow his parent’s orders to keep from seeing whatever surprise awaited him.

“That’s good,” Cass said. “Now I want you to listen. Tell me what you hear.”

That was easy. “You,” I murmured.

“What else?”

“Can we do this later, Cass? Tired. It hurts,” I complained.

“No, baby, we need to do this now, but I promise you can rest afterwards.”

I nodded because Cass was always right about things. Except the “baby” part. I didn’t know why he was saying that because I wasn’t a little kid anymore. I was all grown up.

Why did everything feel like it was covered in layers and layers of fog?

“What do you hear?” Cass asked gently. His words sounded like the softest of whispers in my ear. I focused on what he wanted me to do because I wanted to please him. All I’d ever wanted to do was please him.

“Dripping water… like from a faucet,” I said. My eyes felt heavy but thankfully there was no longer any blinding light.

“What else?”

“A fan. Above me. Can hear and feel it.”

“That’s good. Anything else?”

Between his words and trying to listen for things, the pounding in my head eased.

“Thumping,” I said softly. “Heartbeat. Someone’s heartbeat.” I paused before saying, “Yourheartbeat.”

Something skimmed the shell of my ear. Something soft. It felt good. Hell didn’t feel good, so maybe God had forgiven me my sins even if I’d forgotten to ask Him to before I’d died.

“How do your eyes feel?”

“Scratchy,” I said. “Wanna open them.”

“Do it a little at a time and tell me what you see.”

I did what he said. I resisted the urge to just open them and be done with it. “Blue. Something blue,” I said. I allowed my eyes to open a bit more. A sea of blue flooded them, but when I moved them, other things came into focus. “Brown carpet, ugly curtains. It’s dark but not like before.”

I kept describing things until my brain was no longer trying to pound its way out of my head. I stopped talking and tested my other senses. Warmth enveloping me. A weird citrus smell. Lemons mixed with something woodsy.

Skin.

Soft skin brushing up against my mouth. My fingers tangled in soft hair.

Cass’s hair.

I could still remember it from when I’d?—

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