A Perfect Mistake (30 page)

She stirred in my
arms. When her eyes opened she smiled at me. “Boone.”

“Hey, darlin’”
I pushed up on my elbow and brushed back her hair. “You look
fucking beautiful when you wake up.”

“I’ve
heard that.”

“We can work
this out.”

She closed her eyes
and I sat up. “Verity, I want to play something for you.”
I reached out and grabbed my guitar. I had it close to the bed
because it gave me comfort to play it, and unless Verity was here, I
played it every night before I went to sleep.

She sat up and I
pulled her between my legs and set the guitar in her lap.

#

Verity

I was a complete and
utter mess. When Boone said he wanted to play something for me and
slipped the guitar over me, I pressed against his back. One of his
arms went over me and the other grabbed the neck of the guitar.

He strummed the
strings and the music vibrated through me.

“The first
part of this song is a cappella. I love singing without music. It
makes the message of the song so much more potent. I make my voice my
instrument. This song is called ‘Storm.’”

His voice was so
powerful. I was always so impressed with how he sang without music.
The song was about getting lost and drowning into someone and how the
singer knew that he would be saved.

As he sang, tears
gathered in my eyes and each note was like a needle to my heart.
Listening to him sing that song to me was one of the hardest things
I’d ever had to do. The guilt and the lies twisted inside me,
scoring my insides.

When he started
playing the guitar after the first two verses, I was pressed between
him and the instrument, his voice resonating against my back and the
guitar vibrating against my chest. Trapped between the music, trapped
in the truth.

I loved Boone. I was
sure of that. But, how could I begin our relationship with this
terrible secret between us? We started with a lie, and I was
determined I would not end with one.

As the last note
came to a close, I pushed at the guitar and slipped out of bed. I
needed to be away from him.

“Verity?”

I pulled on my shirt
and underwear and jeans. Boone got out of bed and donned his
underwear and jeans. “What?”

“Sit down,”
I said. “Please, Boone. Sit.”

He sat back on the
bed.

I bit my lip. “There
is something that I have to tell you. Something that I left out about
the night we were together at the graduation party.” I started
to cry again, and he moved to come to me, but I knew I had to get
this out, so I backed up towards the bedroom door, holding out my
hand. “No, Boone. Wait, let me get it out.”

“Verity, what
is it?”

“I got
pregnant, Boone.”

His eyes widened and
he lunged off the bed. Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. I was
confused until I felt a cold pain in my back. I gasped at the sharp
sensation. Then I was suddenly weak and, with a soft sigh, I slipped
to the floor.

Boone shouted my
name, but I was trying to understand what happened. Then I heard
another voice.

“I’m
going to cleanse her, devil. This is only the beginning. I’m
going to cut out your heart and then I’m going to send her to
her maker.”

“You fucking
crazy bastard. Over my dead body.”

I was dimly aware
that Billy Joe stepped over me casually, like I was a rug in his way.
When he came into my line of sight, I saw he was holding a common,
everyday kitchen knife. Boone picked up his guitar, it was the only
weapon he had. Billy Joe laughed and lunged at Boone, who swung the
guitar. He was trying to fend him off, keep him away from me, and the
wood cracked, audible above the sounds of heavy breathing as Boone
tried to hold Billy Joe off.

He shoved Billy Joe
back, but Billy Joe swung the knife and slashed Boone along his rib
cage. Blood splattered and Boone grunted and jerked back, but Billy
Joe was pushing his advantage and he lunged. The light from the
window glinted off the blade as it arched toward Boone’s face.
Everything seemed to have slowed down for me. I felt my vision
dimming and the slick wetness against my back. I wanted to move, to
help Boone, but I couldn’t. My breathing was rapid, and
shallow, like I couldn’t catch my breath.

The blade bit into
his cheek, laying open the skin, sending more blood flying.

Boone cried out and
as Billy Joe arched the knife back for another strike, Boone caught
his wrist and twisted it.

I heard bone crack
and Billy Joe screamed and dropped the knife. Boone kicked it and it
slid under the bed and out of sight. All of Boone’s muscles
seemed to swell as he swung at Billy Joe’s face with a powerful
blow that snapped his head back. Boone punched him again and again.
Blood blossomed at Billy Joe’s nose and mouth and he started to
fall. Boone let him go and he fell on top of him, punching him again
and again until Billy Joe lay still. Breathing hard, groaning with
pain, blood all over him, Boone jerked the laces out of his boots,
rolled Billy Joe over, and tied his hands behind him.

Then he disappeared
into the bathroom and came out with a towel and rushed over to me,
pressing it against my back. I groaned in pain, but he only pressed
harder.

“Boone! What
the fuck happened to your door!” I heard Deke’s voice and
when he hit the doorway. “Geezus. What the fuck!”

“Call 9-1-1!
Get help. Hurry, Deke,” he said, his voice laced with so much
fear. “Verity.”

“I’m so
c-c-c-old.” I felt dizzy and weak.

“Don’t
leave me. Hang on. Please hang on.”

Darkness stole over
me and I groped for Boone’s hand. “Boone.” My voice
hitched. “I’m s-s-s-sorry. S-s-so, s-s-sorry.”

“Victims? Two,
no three. The guy that attacked them. He’s unconscious.”
I heard Deke shouting into the phone for them to hurry, but I wasn’t
sure they would be in time.

I wanted to tell him
that we had a boy. A beautiful boy, but the darkness took me. The
terrible sense of regret followed me into that black, sucking hole.

Boone

Verity was so pale
when the first set of EMTs got there. I backed off when they came
into the room. One guy looked at me.

“What is your
name?”

“Boone
Outlaw.”

“Where are
you?”

“In my
bedroom.”

“What time of
day is it?”

I felt a bit
disoriented. The other guy was working on Verity and I heard more
sirens.

“Boone, stay
with me. We’re helping her. What time of day is it?”

“Day?” I
said feeling a little woozy, blood was sliding down my face and my
torso and I took a breath. “Ummm,” my mind didn’t
seem to want to work.

I licked my lips and
my mouth felt suddenly dry. I looked at the guy who was talking to me
and suddenly it was like I was looking down a tunnel.

The guy came towards
me. “I think he’s going into shock,” he said.
Grabbing hold of me as I lost control of my legs, he caught me and
lowered me to the floor. I was still trying to grapple with what
fucking time of day it was. I looked over at Verity. Her eyes were
still closed. The guy working on her had gotten her hooked up to an
IV. What had she said before fucking Freeman stabbed her? Fucking
bastard. I turned my head to look at his ruined face. He was lucky I
hadn’t killed him.

Verity had said
something important. What time was it?

“What’s
your name?”

This shit again. But
for the life of me I couldn’t think what it was. The EMT looked
concerned. I felt a stab and then the feel of something cold going
into my arm. He pressed something to my face, a gauze pad. Then the
sheriff came into the room.

He crouched down so
he could talk to me. I liked Sheriff Dalton. He was Aubree’s
step-daddy and he actually was a good guy, not a dick like some law
enforcement guys could be.

“Boone? What
happened?’

“Time,”
I said, my head rolling back to Verity.

I watched them work
on her a bit more, my insides shredded. She looked so beautiful, her
features so delicate, her mouth so kissable, and my chest tightened
into a hard ball of fear. “Please, don’t let her die.”
Finally they loaded her up and took her away. I just stared at the
floor where her blood had pooled.

Everything went
blurry, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in an ambulance.
“How you doing?”

I just stared at the
guy. My brain felt frozen. I muttered, “Verity.”

“Is that your
girlfriend? She’s in the other ambulance. As far as I know,
she’s stable. What’s your name?”

I felt myself
slipping again. “Boone Outlaw,” I said before I went out
like a light.

When I woke up
again, I was in a hospital room. My mind refused to function, and I
groped for a hand hold. There were no answers, no explanations, I was
just moving on autopilot, a sickening fear in me. I tried to get up,
but the IV pulled at my arm. I reached over and dragged it out. I got
up and went to step forward, but Brax was there, his face worried and
pinched. I was still shirtless, the slices on my face and chest
sending waves of pain out in all directions. I wondered absently why
he looked so upset. I had to get to Verity.

“Boone, what
are you doing up?”

“Verity,”
I said like that was explanation enough. I walked past him and out
the door.

He followed me and a
nurse said, “What are you doing? You need to go lie back down
so we can stitch you up.”

I ignored her and
kept moving. I didn’t know where to find her, so I shouted her
name at the top of my lungs.

Suddenly Booker was
there, and Aubree. They took my arms, but I shook them off. Then this
burly guy grabbed me and I felt a prick. I broke away but stumbled,
my legs not working right. Then Brax was there catching me in his
arms. “It’s okay, Boonie. I got you.”

“Verity,”
I said as my mind reeled and I lost touch. I was lifted and then was
moving again.

They brought me back
to that room and my mind spun around and around in one circle. Was
she all right? Had she died between the time I had seen her taken out
of my bedroom and now? They reinserted the IV, the nurse giving me a
sympathetic look as I fought to focus my thoughts. I’d been
sedated because I had been out of control. I grabbed Brax’s
shirt. I’d gotten my blood on him. “Brax, Verity,
please,” I begged.

“Booker, try
to find out about Verity for him.”

A man came in.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Stevens. What happened here?”

“He was
attacked with a knife,” Brax said.

“And, his
name?”

“Boone.”

I groaned when he
probed at the cut that stung from my chest all the way to my waist.

“Looks pretty
good, Boone. There’s no muscle damage, but it’s deep
enough that I’m going to give you stitches. Let’s take a
look at your face.”

He peered at my
cheekbone, and when he touched me I hissed in pain. He smelled like
antiseptic and coffee.

Booker came back
into the room. “She’s in surgery. That’s all they
would tell me. But she’s being taken care of, Boonie.”

I hung onto that.
Verity was alive and she was in surgery.

I heard my mother’s
voice, “Where is he?”

“Here, Ma.”
Booker disappeared, and when he came back my mother was with him. She
rushed to me and buried her hand in my hair.

“My baby.”

“He’s
going to be fine,” the doctor said with an encouraging smile.

“Oh, thank
God.”

Baby
.
Fuck. Verity. She’d told me she’d gotten pregnant. I’d
gotten her pregnant. Fucking A. A baby. I couldn’t get my mind
around it. That made me a daddy. I was a fucking daddy.

She hadn’t
told me. What the fuck was that all about? Had she thought I was too
much of a fuck-up? Had she thought I didn’t care! I fucking
cared, and a burning sensation that had nothing to do with the slices
raged inside me. My kid! What had she done with that baby?

I felt sick that I
had fathered a child and never known it, and if she hadn’t just
told me, I would never have known. She had to answer to this! I
needed to know.

It was
life-changing. It was mind-boggling, and I reached for how I felt
about her not telling me and there was a wall of anger and
frustration. I wondered what had happened to the baby. Whether it was
a boy or a girl or had she…terminated it. My chest felt so
damn tight, and I was shattered and devastated all at the same time.

“Folks, I’m
going to need you to clear the room. You can come back in once we get
him cleaned up and stitched.”

My ma gave me a kiss
on the temple.

They filed out and
Brax was the last one to go. I met his eyes and he looked so worried,
then he too left.

I gritted my teeth
as Dr. Stevens jabbed me several times with a needle all along my
gash. Then on my face. I moaned as the pain radiated out to my
hairline and made my eyes water. Then blessedly my skin went numb.
They cleaned me up, the sharp smell of alcohol burning my nostrils,
the white gauze red from my blood. Then he bent over me. He worked on
my face first, taking small stitches, but I felt each tug as the
needle threaded in and out of my skin.

When he moved down
to my torso, I closed my eyes, frustrated, scared and helpless. My
head cleared a bit and I only felt worse as the anger took hold of
me, made me clench my teeth.

I just wanted Verity
to live so that I could ask about everything that she’d been
holding back. Everything that I wanted to know. Everything she didn’t
trust me with!

The pain of losing
my daddy all those years ago came back tenfold. I thought of my
connection to Henry and how fiercely I loved that kid. They had me on
my side to do the stitching. Tears slipped out of my eyes and dripped
off the bridge of my nose.