Текст книги "The Song Remains the Same"

Автор книги: Kelli Jean

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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

Phil

“What the fuck is this shit?” X screamed from the bunks.

A fuckin’ week and a half, and already, we were going apeshit. Leaving our women behind had been bad enough, but bickering with each other on top of it, or maybe it was because of it, just made the situation that much worse. I knew I was grumpy as fuck without my Baby Girl.

“What the fuck are you doing in my bunk?” Connor yelled back.

Now, I was intrigued. X and Connor got along really well, so it was a surprise that they were having it out. Craning my neck around the corner—I had been looking for some food in the fridge—I saw the two gingers facing off.

“What’s goin’ on?” I called down the hall.

“This motherfucker has pictures of my wife taped up in his bunk!” snarled X.

“So?” I asked. “Are they nudies?”

“No!” Connor protested.

Man, was he blushing hard.

“Shit, X, if they ain’t nudies, then what’s the big deal?” I asked, shutting the fridge and heading toward them.

“I have photos of Kenna and Lili taped up in there, too!” said Connor. “They’re my sisters!”

“Sisters?” hissed X, getting all up in Connor’s face. “I know how you look at Alys—”

“Fuck you, douche!” Connor yelled back.

Before I knew it, X launched his ass at Connor, and they both went down, punching and smacking each other.

“Jace! Flip!” I called out, reaching down and hauling X off Connor. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man?” I asked my best friend.

Connor got up, his lip oozing blood.

“I’m sick of his ass!” screamed X just as Jason and Flipper came down from the upper deck.

Wiping the blood off his lip with the back of his hand, Connor looked at X in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me! You fuckin’ come in and fuckin’ mess around with our sound, fuckin’ trying to show us up with your fancy fuckin’ trainin’ and college degree—”

“Shut up, X. You’re way out of line,” said Jason. “Don’t listen to him, Connor.”

“Are you high or somethin’?” asked Flipper.

“No! I’m fuckin’ pissed that he has a picture of my wife taped next to where he lays his head! It’s fuckin’ fucked up!”

“What horseshit.” Flipper snorted. “They’ve only known each other all their lives, X. Why does it bother you so much now?”

Both gingers flushed clashing reds.

Holy shit. Why does it bother X so much?

Connor had a sweet spot for Alys. I’d seen it when Alys had run off with X and gotten hitched. But Connor never showed any other signs that he was hung up over her, and he never let his feelings get in the way of the band. Hell, the motherfucker had groupies lining up to fuck his brains out in every stop we’d made. He would take advantage of them, too.

Sheri glanced down the hall from the front of the bus. “Is everything okay?”

“No!” shouted X. “I want this motherfucker off the bus! Now!”

“What?” the motherfucker gasped.

“Seriously, man, what have you taken?” asked Flipper, pawing through X’s bunk, looking for wrappers or baggies or the substance itself.

X reached out and slapped Flipper’s hands out of his shit. “Knock it off! I ain’t on nothin’! I just want this asshole off our bus—”

“It’s his bus, too,” I said, getting pissed.

X was being flat-out irrational. “Fuck that shit! Either he goes, or I go—”

“You shut the fuck up!” shouted Jason, pointing an angry finger under X’s nose. “Connor ain’t some pissant piece of douchery! He’s one of us!”

“It’s fine,” said Connor quietly.

My heart went out to my brother. He hadn’t done a damn thing wrong. This was all in X’s head, and he knew it. But those words…those fuckers cut deep.

“Have Mack pull over. I’ll stay on the roadie bus.”

“No,” I said.

This whole situation was being blown out of proportion.

“It’s okay,” said Connor, reaching into his bunk and grabbing his stuff. “It’ll be better if I go.”

X shoved his way past all of us and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Jason poked his head in Connor’s bunk. “It’s just a picture of her on the last tour, the one where we stopped at the Redwood Park place. What’s his deal?”

Straightening up, Connor shrugged, saying nothing.

“You don’t have to go, man,” I told him.

His eyes looked into mine, and I got so homesick for my Baby Girl. It was like being kicked in the nuts.

Seven hours. Just seven hours before I get to hold her again.

“No, it’s probably best I go. Have Mack pull over, yeah? It’s no big deal.”

“Sure it is,” Flipper said, getting all feisty. “He has no reason to talk to you like that. You’re our brother.”

Connor nodded, but he took his shit and made his way to the front of the bus all the same. The rest of us didn’t want him to go, so he was taking matters into his own hands. He had Mack radio the roadie bus to pull over at the next rest stop.

“Man, what are we supposed to tell your sister when we get her from the airport?” I asked him as Mack slowly maneuvered off the highway.

He shrugged. “The truth. She’ll understand.”

“She’ll have my balls on a plate!”

Connor smiled sadly. “She already does, man.”

Mack opened the door, and Connor hopped out.

“Poor kid,” said Mack. “I liked that one.”

“He ain’t goin’ nowhere,” I snapped.

Full of angry thunder and raw nerves, I stalked back to the bathroom, ready to kick the door in when X opened it. His eyes were watery and red, and he couldn’t look me in the face.

“What was that shit you just pulled?” I demanded. “That kid is the best thing that ever happened to NOLA’s, and you just shat all over him ’cause of a photo of a woman he considers family.”

“I know.”

Jason came up behind me. “You have some seriously fucked up—”

“Can it, Jace. You ain’t helpin’,” I barked.

Jason huffed and stormed off.

“I just…I needed him away from us.”

“Why?”

X shrugged, and my irritation skyrocketed.

“Fuck, man! It’s the middle of a Canadian winter, and you fuckin’ needed to throw the poor man off the bus? What’s your fuckin’ excuse for that shit? We don’t treat our brothers like that!”

X finally turned his electric-blue eyes on me, and what I saw in them chilled me to my soul. An overwhelming sadness, a look of resignation, and a shit-ton of pain flashed in them. It knocked the breath from me.

“What is it?” I whispered.

Whatever was in him was infecting me. Fear sank its fangs into my heart and pumped it through my veins.

“I don’t know. I just know he needed to get out.”

“You ain’t makin’ a lick of sense—”

“I know!” he cried.

“Was Flipper onto somethin’? You takin’ some shit?”

He shook his head. “I’m fuckin’ tired, man. I just need some sleep. Maybe…it’ll be better after.”

“He deserves an apology,” I growled. “We’re pickin’ the girls up in a few fuckin’ hours. They ain’t gonna be happy, knowin’ Connor’s on the fuckin’ roadie bus. Kenna’s gonna be pissed, knowin’ you ran her little brother outta here.”

X nodded. “All right. Just…let me get some sleep. I haven’t been sleepin’ well lately.”

I knew the feeling. It sucked, not having Kenna with me. I couldn’t sleep in The Attic without her. It didn’t feel right. Flipper, Viv, Jason, and Sheri had all been taking turns with it. I’d been sleeping in the bunk I used when Kenna and I had that shit going down with Brigid and Devon.

I missed my Baby Girl something fierce.

I’d spoken to Devon right before we’d left Montreal. For a while, he’d been talking about some sort of spiritual pilgrimage, and he’d said he would be leaving for Tibet. Where he was going, there would be almost no way to keep in touch, so we’d spoken until his flight got called from Heathrow Airport. He’d seemed to be in a good place in his head and mentioned collaborating when he got back in a few months.

The idea had music tripping around in my head. I could well imagine something amazing coming out of that. Devon was beyond brilliant, and away from Cornered Cannibal, he had the room to grow and express that.

Back on the road, the way to Saskatoon was icy, and there was a snowstorm brewing, turning the sky a steel gray. Our next show was tomorrow night, and we’d decided to get a hotel. Nothing over-the-top, but I was dying to have my Baby Girl all to myself.

When I’d last spoken to Kenna, she’d sounded off—stressed, tired, even sad. She’d told me it was nothing, that she was just overworked and was hoping she was doing the right thing by leaving medicine. She and Alys had been at the airport, heading to New York.

X crawled into his bunk and slid the door shut.

What in the hell is up with him?

Sleep deprived or not, he’d never treated anyone like that—well, except for Jason, but Jason could be an insufferable douche at times. X was always lighthearted, always cracking jokes, and the fact was that Connor hadn’t done anything wrong.

Sighing, I took the seat next to Mack and watched the sky turn darker and more ominous.

“Looks bad,” the man grunted. “Weather report said heavy snow for the next few hours.”

As time went on, the world around us blurred. Mack took the speed down almost to a crawl, considering the whiteout we were driving through. We could hardly see three feet in front of the bus.

“Should we pull over?” I asked, feeling anxious.

The sun was long gone, and the headlights reflecting off the snow with the black backdrop was freaking me out.

Mack had driven us through worse conditions though while on chewed-up European mountain roads. “Nah. We’ll just take it slow,” he replied, looking unfazed.

In the back of the bus, a slide panel shifted, and I glanced over my shoulder to see X pulling himself out of his bunk. He looked like absolute hell, pale and shiny with a greasy sweat. Maybe he was coming down with something, like the flu.

“Hey, man,” I called out.

He looked at me.

“You feelin’ all right?”

He nodded and headed to the bathroom.

Somethin’ ain’t right, I thought. Getting up to follow him, my heart was in my throat. There was something really wrong with X.

In a flash, the whole world tilted, slid, and careened around. In some sort of limbo, the floor was the ceiling, and then it was the walls. From everywhere came noise—screaming, shattering glass, shit just crashing all over, the tortured sound of metal ripping apart. White-hot pain exploded through me as the air got stunned from my lungs. Lights flickered and went out, and my Baby Girl’s sweet laughter trickled into my ears.

“Kenna…” I whispered, blinking, trying to clear my vision, trying to get up. Useless.

The blackness from outside came in and swallowed me up. Wherever I was, Kenna’s laughter didn’t follow, and my heart…she splintered apart.

Kenna

“Hey, Baby Girl.”

Waking up with a start, I look around, finding myself on the plane. For a moment, my head fuddles through confusion. Next to me, Alys is asleep, her head resting on my shoulder.

There’s turbulence—not too bad, nothing to jostle me out of my sleep. Alys didn’t move, and she’s terrified of flying. I settle back into my seat, ready to continue my nap.

It’s so quiet. The sound of the engines whirring became a natural part of the silence.

Around me, everyone is asleep.

Everyone.

There are no flight attendants, and craning my neck above the seats in front of me, I can’t see them in the service station.

“Alys?”

She doesn’t stir.

Then, I feel it. Someone else is here with me, someone who is awake. I love this person, and this person loves me.

Turning my head so as not to disturb Alys, I see him.

He’s smiling so brightly, filled with an abundance of love and acceptance, joy and a hint of sadness for everything that he can never experience now. He’s blazing with an aura the color of the sun, and I know why he’s here. I’m breaking up inside. He’s so beautiful, more beautiful than I ever realized.

“I gotta say good-bye, Baby Girl.”

“Oh, no…”

He smiles. “It’s gonna be okay. You know that, right?” He looks down at my belly, swollen once more. “Oh, wow.”

“You can’t go!” I whisper, my voice shaking.

“It’s already too late. Let everyone know, Baby Girl. No regrets.”

I woke up with a start.

Looking around, I was still on the plane, heading for Saskatoon. Turbulence jostled the plane, and next to me, Alys was pale and shaky. Déjà vu muddied my head for an instant, taking a few heartbeats before it cleared.

“Hey, you okay?” I asked, putting my hand on her clenched fist.

She nodded by way of answer, most likely because she was afraid that she’d vomit if she opened her mouth.

The weather outside the plane was horrendous. Our captain had warned of heavy snowfall and stormy conditions.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are ready to make our descent…”

Alys quickly flipped up her tray and tightened her seat belt.

“Just a few more minutes, and we’ll be on the ground,” I told her, sounding a lot more confident than I felt.

There was that strange feeling of something not being right. Suddenly, that strange feeling morphed into something being horrifically wrong. Without meaning to, my hand slipped to cradle my lower abdomen, pressing in firmly.

Something’s missing.

Although I hadn’t bothered taking a pregnancy test, I felt Phil inside me, a part of him firing up, multiplying, replicating, and splitting, cell by cell. For whatever reasons, I hadn’t wanted the confirmation. Something within me felt as though he shouldn’t know of this, not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Maybe it was just that I could not accept it. I wasn’t in denial. I knew. I knew it was there—a part of me, a part of Phil, its own separate being. Still, I loved the force of it, the spark that was uniquely Phil, growing inside me. As much as I wanted to ignore it, I wanted it.

The landing was a rough one. Briefly, it felt as though we’d simply dropped out of the sky, and the plane had hit the runway hard. Alys let out a small cry of terror, and I clutched her hand with brute strength. She returned it, too, squashing my fingers in her viselike grip.

“Oh, thank God,” she whispered as we felt the pull of the brakes, the plane slipping into a crawl as it maneuvered into the terminal.

Feeling giddy to be back on the ground, Alys and I grabbed our carry-ons and scrambled to get out of there.

“Let everyone know. No regrets.”

I stopped in my tracks as an icy chill shivered its way down my spine. We were halfway through the gate.

Alys turned around, and whatever she saw on my face scared her. “Kenna?”

Her voice sounded submerged, my tinnitus kicking in. A high-pitched ringing pinged through my skull before slowly fading into the background, and her voice gradually became clear.

“Kenna? Shit, are you going to faint?”

“I’m feeling a bit off…” I told her.

She grabbed my arm to steady me. As we made our way through the gate, she brought me to a bench and sat me down. “I’m going to get you some orange juice or something, okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed. I felt sheer, vulnerable in a way that was alien to me. I could only imagine that my face was as colorless as I felt.

As she hurried to a convenience stand, I willed the blood in my body to flow through easily before going up into my brain. Closing my eyes, I sank deep into myself, trying to relax.

“Hey, Baby Girl.”

Relief flooded me, hearing his voice. Phil was still with me. Somehow, I sensed that if he were gone from this world, my inner voice would simply be my voice.

“Where are you?” My mind searched desperately, needing to feel him.

“Kenna?”

Alys’s voice pulled me from my depths. I opened my eyes to the bright fluorescence of the Saskatoon Airport. She handed me a bottle of pulpy orange juice, and I thirstily gulped half of it down.

“You look a bit pale, too,” I told her, handing her the second half of the juice. “Drink it.”

Taking the seat next to me, she downed the rest and then heaved a sigh. “Why does the world feel like it’s out of whack?” she asked me.

A shrug was the best answer I could come up with. My brain was grasping for something important. It was the answer to Alys’s question, I knew that, but it was just beyond my reach, dancing in the peripherals of my mind.

“You feel ready to hit up baggage claim?” she asked.

“Yep,” I replied.

We stood together, making our way.

Around us, people chattered and cheerfully carried on, their lives full of color. They didn’t see the smoggy film that had descended upon the world. Alys and I were going to walk into a shitstorm any minute…

Where is this coming from? I thought desperately. More importantly, how do I even know something terrible has happened? Could it just be the pregnancy?

It was very likely. In my hormonally-charged frame of mind, it was possible that I was overly sensitive to everything around me. This pregnancy situation weighed heavily on me, pressing down on my soul, and I knew that talking about it with Phil would lift that weight.

Phil will be ecstatic! It’s all he’s ever wanted. Am I too chickenshit to tell him? Is that what it is? Because if he knows about it, there really is no going back.

Something kept telling me not to tell him, and I could only speculate that it was my own selfishness speaking so loudly.

Luggage in tow, we headed for the exit where Phil, X, and Connor were going to pick us up. Walking into the Arrivals area, we looked around, finding no one.

“Well, the weather is pretty messed up. Maybe they’re just running late?” Alys suggested.

“Maybe,” I replied.

Twenty minutes later, there was still no sign of them. Everyone from our flight had long gone while we watched the new arrivals milling in.

“X still isn’t picking up,” Alys huffed in irritation, looking at her phone for the fiftieth time. “What’s going on?” Panic had elevated her voice an octave or two.

Swallowing past the hard lump that had grown, I replied, “I don’t know. Connor isn’t picking up either. Phil’s phone is going straight to voice mail. None of them have answered, Alys…”

An hour trickled by.

We waited, each time sitting up straight as we caught sight of a passing vehicle. They were supposed to rent a car to come and get us.

Two hours.

“This is ridiculous!” I hissed, squeezing the crap out of my phone. “What the—”

“Kenna…” Alys said weakly, gently placing one hand on my arm, pointing at a television screen across the waiting area with the other.

A local news station was showing on the TV.

Slowly, we stood, leaving our luggage behind, as we walked over to the screen. There was no sound, just closed-caption text at the bottom of the screen. A reporter in a red wool scarf spoke into a mic while the scene behind her showed a massive wreck with fire, ambulances, yellow tape, and a shit-ton of EMTs.

…few hours ago…black ice…several vehicular pileups…casualties…two tour buses with rock band involved…

“Holy shit!” my best friend cried. “Kenna!”

Déjà vu came back full force, crushing my chest and making it impossible for me to breathe. Snatches and flashes zipped through my head, a dream I’d had.

“Hey, Baby Girl. No regrets.”

“Alys…” I whispered. I looked down at our clasped hands. “We need to go find them.”

“Where?” she whimpered.

“My guess would be the hospital.”

Dear gods, don’t let them be in the morgue.

Our cab took us straight to the emergency entrance. Hauling our luggage with us, we paid for the taxi and made our way inside like a couple of stunned zombies.

On the way, I’d given Lili a call, and she’d turned on the news to see what she could find, making Lewis check the Internet. The names of those killed in the accident hadn’t been released, but several people had been airlifted to the hospital. The both of them were searching the footage to see if Our Boys were in it.

“There are several bodies in cadaver bags, but there’s no way I can tell. The wreck…Kenna—” Lili had choked up, sucked in a breath, and tried to continue. “The wreck is all over the highway. There were nine vehicles involved. It looks like there was only minor damage to the roadie bus, but the guys’ bus…it’s in half.”

Next to me, Alys had heard the whole conversation, and she’d whimpered in response.

From what else Lili had described, it seemed as though a stretch of the highway, Route 16, had been slicked with black ice, an invisible substance slipperier than oil. There was nothing that Mack could’ve done to pull out of it, as steering would’ve been impossible. Taking a bend in the road, the tour bus would’ve been out of control at any speed, and it had been identified as the third vehicle in the collision. Upon impact, it had flipped over twice and torn in half after the second rotation.

Right before we were about to approach the front desk in the emergency room, Alys grabbed my arm, yanking me back. “Kenna?”

“Yeah?” I replied, my voice warped with the stranglehold my throat had on it.

“Someone’s dead. Some of them are dead, aren’t they?”

I’d been avoiding the very thought of it, ignoring what my heart already knew, but if Alys was strong enough to ask the question, I had to be just as strong and answer. “Yes. I think so.”

“What do we do?”

“What we have to.”

Approaching the front desk, a very kind older woman took one look at our faces and tried through her exhausted state for some sympathy.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Kenna MacGregor,” I said. “This is Alys Stuart—”

“Johnson,” Alys said firmly next to me. “Alys Stuart-Johnson.”

“Yes,” I said. “We have several family members who were involved in the highway pileup. My brother, Connor MacGregor; my fiancé, Philip Deveraux; Alys’s husband, Xavier Johnson—” I couldn’t continue. My throat’s stranglehold won out and squeezed so hard that my eyes teared up.

“Sister and wife, you say?”

“And fiancé,” I replied.

“I’m going to need to take your identification and the relationships you have with the victims,” she was saying.

“Victims?” Alys echoed weakly. “Oh God, Kenna.”

Taking a clipboard with the necessary paperwork to fill out, we turned to find a couple of seats when Connor came out.

“Connor!” I cried, dropping the clipboard and sprinting over to my brother, launching myself into his arms. “What happened? Is Phil—”

“Phil’s in surgery—”

“Surgery?” I screeched, panic overwhelming me.

My legs gave out beneath me, and Connor caught me before I hit the floor.

“Please, if you three could have a seat,” the front desk lady said, coming up to us, trying to keep the hysterics to a minimum.

The other people in the waiting room were most certainly the family and loved ones of other people involved with the wreck.

Once seated, Connor sat in silence as we filled out the forms. Poor Alys was shaking like a leaf, hardly able to hold the pen. We handed the forms back to the lady at the front desk.

“What happened?” I asked my brother. “How did you get out of there unscathed?”

“I was on the other bus,” he replied. “I, uh…I needed to get away from the guys for a bit. Just hang out with the crew, you know? I made friends with some of them…”

“Are they all right?” I asked, meaning the road crew.

He nodded. “The driver saw what was going on up front and slowed down in time. The impact was minimal. No one got hurt on the roadie bus.”

“Mrs. Johnson?” A doctor quietly approached us, and he wore a grave face as he waited for Mrs. Johnson to reveal herself.

“Ye-yes?” asked Alys.

I could see it working in her mind already.

The doctor crouched down before her, taking her hands in his. “I need you to come with me.”

“Please,” she whispered. “I need my brother and sister with me,” she told him, indicating Connor and me.

“Of course,” he replied.

The three of us followed him back through the double doors to an empty side room.

After we had taken a seat, Dr. Jacobs—I’d read his name tag—took a deep breath. “Mrs. Johnson, I’m so sorry to bring you this news—”

Alys shook her head, not wanting to believe what was already in her heart.

“Your husband, Xavier James Johnson, did not survive the accident.”

“Oh God…” she keened, wrapping her arms around her middle, rocking back and forth.

The anguish on her face was too much, too painful to witness. I pulled her into my arms while Alys wailed and screamed.

“I know this is hard to hear, Mrs. Johnson. If it’s any consolation, I assure you, he did not suffer. His injuries made his passing instantaneous.”

A few minutes of holding her was all I was capable of for the moment. Handing her off to Connor, who was more than happy to enfold her in his warmth, I asked Dr. Jacobs to speak with me outside the room.

“Dr. Jacobs, I’m Dr. Kenna MacGregor. My fiancé, Philip Deveraux—I need to know what his condition is. I’ve filled out the necessary paperwork, and my brother mentioned he was in surgery.”

“He’s your fiancé?”

“We’re to be married on May sixth,” I replied, holding up my four-carat ring, as if it were proof enough. With its size, it should be. “And what of Sheri Mathews? Jason Jones? Felix Bouvier? Vivian Blanchard?”

For a few heartbeats, Dr. Jacobs appeared conflicted. Then, he said, “Sheri Mathews is in critical but stable condition. Jason Jones suffered minor injuries, but he is also in surgery. We expect him to make a quick recovery. Felix Bouvier’s right arm and rib cage suffered damage. He’s in surgery now, and we’re concerned about internal bleeding. Vivian Blanchard has some minor bumps and a concussion.”

“And Tim Williams? Their driver, Mack? I admit, I don’t know his full name.”

“Tim Williams expired from his injuries en route to the hospital—as did the bus driver, Kevin McIntosh.”

“And Phil?” I breathed, once more crushed beneath the weight of losing people I’d known and loved.

“Philip Deveraux suffered a broken femur, pelvis, and ribs on the left side of his body. He’s in surgery, and from what the X-rays show, the breaks were clean. Pins will be used to stabilize his pelvis and femur, and his ribs are taped up. It appears as though his sheer size and musculature saved him from much more serious injuries.”

“And Xavier? You said he didn’t suffer,” I said quietly.

Dr. Jacobs looked uncomfortable. “He was killed instantly, Dr. MacGregor. Your brother, Connor, identified the body and confirmed that it was Xavier Johnson.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Philip should be out of surgery soon. Once he is, I’ll allow you to see him.”

“Okay,” I said softly.

“I will come and get you when Philip is situated.”

“Thank you.” Turning on my heel, I opened the door to the small waiting room, greeted by the combined wretchedness of Connor and a heartbroken Alys.

“Alys?” I asked, keeping my voice soft and soothing.

Sniffling and wiping her eyes, she pulled herself from Connor’s arms. “Yeah?”

I needed some space to clear my head, to focus, and to bring myself into a calm and rational frame of mind. “I’m going to grab us all some coffee and give Lili a call, see if she and Lewis can come out here.”

“Okay.”

Connor’s eyes met mine. The wealth of anguish pouring from them was enough to drown me.

No matter what, he loved X. Even with Alys between them, he never found fault in his brother for loving her the way he did. If anything…he had understood.

“I’ll be right back.”

Phil

No pain. No light. No sound. No music. No laughter. No Baby Girl. Nothin’.

I’m not anywhere. But I’m still…here. Everything is telling me that here, in this black canvas of timeless space, is what true freedom is like.

I ain’t free without my Baby Girl.

It’s soft, cool and warm at the same time, open and endless. There’s no up, no down, so whatever way I’m falling is the right way to go, I guess.

I just need my Baby Girl.

“You need to be ready,” said a voice, both alien and familiar.

“For what?”

No answer. Falling again.

No fear. No happiness. Just an existence. A place to rest.

But from what? Why do I need to rest?

“Just relax. There’s nothing to rush to right now.”

A woman’s voice.

One I should trust? I don’t know how I feel about that voice. It’s not my Baby Girl’s voice, and I trust her more than anyone.

Where am I?

“Safe. I’ll look after you for now while I can. Once you go back…”

Back where?

No answer.

This is self-preservation though. It has to be. Otherwise, what is this place? There is literally nothing here!

“No regrets.”

No regrets? Who said that? That ain’t the same voice.

“No. No regrets.”

What the hell is goin’ on? I know that voice!

Hmm…I could get used to this…

“Don’t you dare.”

The other voice again. The first voice.

“…our children will define love…”

Somewhere, I remember hearing…before dying, life flashes before one’s eyes. Bursts of light blaze through this timeless space, and I can’t help wondering…

“…you’re the reason I wake up happy…”

Joy. I feel it. Blowing up through me, whatever body I have because I don’t see it and I don’t feel it.

Baby Girl, my other half…

“…and fall asleep, feeling loved and safe…”

My only love—my past, present, and my future. Her voice fills me, stretches beneath my skin, as my heart fires up, filling with intense heat, love, and passion. It’s pain, and it’s brilliant!

“…I can no longer remember my life before you came into it…”

I’m comin’, Baby Girl. I’ll go through all sorts of hell if I have to.

“…never want to imagine life without you…”

You don’t have to. I’m comin’. I’ll always come when you call. I can remember now. I feel you. I always feel you. I can remember…

“…marry me…”

“Kenna!”

Kenna

After ten minutes or so of searching and asking around, I found the coffee hub in the hospital. It gave me the time to call Lili, update her, and beg her to come to Saskatoon.

“Lewis is booking us the next flight out,” she assured me. “There’s a Radisson there. Is that where you’re all booked?”

“I think so. Lili, this is a complete mess. I don’t—”

“You don’t have to, Kenna. We’re on our way.”

“Alys—”

“Just hold on until we get there. I’m packing as we speak. Our flight leaves in three hours with a stopover in Seattle. We’ll be there sometime tomorrow. I’ll call you when our plane gets in, okay?”

“Thanks,” I whispered brokenly.

“I love you, and we’ll be there soon.”

“I love you, too.”

Hospital personnel, even the ones who worked behind the counter of the coffee stand, must have an understanding of misery. The guy took my order for three double-shot lattes and didn’t bat an eye for the torment etched into my features.

“Anything else?”

“No, thanks,” I replied.

I hurried back with my cardboard carrier to the small waiting room.

Alys must’ve cried herself dry for the moment. Her swollen face was red and blotchy, her eyes puffed into slits. They were so red that her irises appeared to be green, not hazel.

“Lili’s on her way,” I told them.

Alys nodded. “I…I don’t know what to do. I should call his parents. Do I arrange the funeral? When do I have to look…” She swallowed hard, her face quivering with impending weeping.