Page 82 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part 2

“He’s still on the run.” I close my eyes and lean into my mom, inhaling her perfume and letting it calm me. It’s been so hard dealing with all of this and not having their support. In my eyes, they have a lot to make up for. They could’ve found a way to tell me.

“He murdered Aaron, Mom. I know it was him.”

“We can’t be sure, but yeah honey, it was probably him. Aaron is the one involved in your attack at school?” I’m surprised she even remembers. My body trembles with residual anger and the emptiness of not having them there for me. I’ve always felt on the outside with them, only really connecting with Kai, but I still love my parents and until recently, I thought they would do anything for me.

I have to come to terms with the fact that they were just trying to protect me, to keep me safe in the only way they knew how. Does it sting? Yes. Very much so, but she’s here now. I will make sure they grovel.

“Yeah, he was the one and now he’s dead. It only makes sense that it was Jonas. If not, he hired someone.”

“We will figure it out, but you are safe here. It’s not over, but it will be. We will get this entire situation squared away.”

“You can’t promise that.” Her arms flinch around me.

“You’re right, I can’t, but I can tell you we will do everything we can to protect you. We won’t hide a damn thing from you or your brother from now on. I can’t stand to have you look at me like that ever again, sugarplum.”

“Okay,” I mutter, squeezing my mother’s petite frame closer to me. She rests her chin on top of my head and a drop of moisture falls into my hair.

“Enough of that. How are you feeling?”

“Mom… Mom… I’m not okay. I’m n—not okay.” I clutch her shirt, sobbing and blubbering. She rocks us slightly, something she always used to do when I was little and had a skinned knee or a nightmare. It’s comforting and for now I let all of the anger I’ve been harboring slip away, allowing my grief to spill over.

With a sob, I mourn what my life was supposed to be, the dreams I had, the skills I had that I’ll likely never get back. I mourn a loss so profound I’ve wished I were dead on multiple occasions. I have no clue how the hell I’m going to make it through this.

My life is never going to be the same. My independence is gone. Sure, the doctors think I might walk again, but they can’t tell me when or how. Any form of professional hockey can’t wait for however long it takes.

“Let it out, sweet girl, let it all out. I’m here and I’ll be here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I need my life back, Mom. I can’t live like this, lose my independence. People taking care of me twenty-four-seven. I’ll never survive it.”

“Stop talking like that, young lady. You will get your legs back. It may not be as soon as you want it, but you will get them back.” Promises, promises. I’m so sick of people handing them out like they can keep them.

They can’t.

They can’t tell me for sure that I will walk again, play again. What am I without hockey?

Who am I if I’m bound to a wheelchair for the rest of my life and forced to depend on someone to carry out mundane tasks to simply survive? Jesus… I’m nothing but a burden and always will be. I’ll be this lame, depressed, hateful version of a girl that was once so happy, that never let life get her down even though it tried.

I’ve just found my love and now if he stays with me, I will only bring his life down.

I cry until I can’t cry any longer. When I fall asleep, my eyes are so puffy and dry I can barely see out of them. I welcome the reprieve of slipping into the darkness, even though I’m going to relive the hit again and again until my eyes open once more.

At some point, Mom slips from the bed, letting me sleep on my own. A few moments later, lips press to my forehead and fingers intertwine with mine. “Hey, Outlaw.”

The chair scrapes on the floor as he brings it closer, then the weight of his head falls over my belly.

Shame fills me, and I hate myself for needing so much attention. The man I love and can’t keep because I can’t depend on him, can’t ruin his life by being this version of me, is sitting with his head on my stomach because he simply can’t do more because of my condition. This is no life for him to live.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to push him away, but I can’t endure any more heartbreak right now. It’s going to hurt like a son-of-a-bitch to push him away regardless of when I do it, so I can give us this moment right now.

CHAPTER36

“I can bringa pan of hot water in here and help you clean up a bit, if you’d like.” My eyes flick to Riggs, who has walked in the door as the nurse offers to give me a bird bath again. I’d love nothing more than to get up and take a damn shower or, at the very least, a bath, but I’m still not allowed to.

I’m more than frustrated and on the verge of tears, nearly twenty-four-seven. This hellhole has been my home for another week since my mother confessed everything. I’m cranky, restless, and ready to get the hell out of here.

My body hasn’t been mine since the hit. Nurses draw blood constantly, therapists are here maneuvering me. If they help me take another bath, I’m going to lose my mind. Riggs takes pity on me after one quick glance. “I’ll help her today.”

My nurse studies him for a moment, considering. He implores her with his eyes to give in and let him help. I open my mouth to protest because I don’t want him helping me either, but I stop myself. As hard as it has been having him around and seeing me like this, I want some time with him and I’d like to keep my dignity for today.

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