Lost Wishes (15 page)

“Now, we don’t know what Hope would want because,” my hands squeeze tight, “she’s not fucking here!”

“It was an accident, just an accident, Fallon.”

“The fuck it was, and you know it.” Why is she defending him?

“Yes, it was.” She moves closer.

“I was there, Sadie.”

“Yeah, Fallon, and do you remember what happened?” She stops in front of me.

“No, Sadie!” Joey manages to get up from the ground. He’s holding his hand out to her. “Don’t!”

Her eyes dart at Joey. “He needs to know the truth.”

“No, please, Sadie. Don’t.” Joey looks at her, and I know that look, too. It’s the keep-your-mouth-fucking-shut look.

I glance back and forth between the two of them. “What the fuck is going on here?”

“Sadie!” Joey grabs her arms. “Please don’t.”

“Get the fuck off her!” I tear Joey’s hand from Sadie and shove his ass back to the ground. “Touch her again,” I point at him, “and I swear I will kill you.” Shaking, Joey places his hands on his head and drops down to the ground. I turn back to Sadie. “What the fuck doesn’t he want you to tell me?”

“Sadie, please,” Joey grovels from beneath his bended head.

“Shut the fuck up,” I snap. “Don’t worry; it can’t get any worse for you. You killed my wife,” I lean down and scream, “my fucking wife!”

“Fallon, that’s enough,” Sadie says, and I snap my eyes to her. She’s really starting to piss me off by trying to protect this asshole. I stand up and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.

“Ya know, you were always like this, bullheaded,” she says. “You knew it all. You had to control everything. Hope, she loved that about you. You made her feel safe. She thought you were so strong, determined, and confident.”

“Where the hell are you going with all of this, Sadie?”

“The night Hope died—”

“Sadie,” Joey pleads.

Both Sadie and I turn to him and tell him to shut up.

“You and Joey, both of you had been drinking that night. And Joey was popping uppers, too,” she says, dragging her eyes from Joey back to me.

“No shit, it showed up on his tox screen and helped put his ass away for the past three years,” I say.

“Yeah, that’s right, and at the party, he was about to pop one, but a girl came up to him and he slipped it into his drink so she wouldn’t see him popping pills.”

I look down at Joey still curled into a ball with his head buried in his arms, rocking back and forth. I remember him talking to some chick that night. “He told you about that.” I look back up at Sadie, wondering why.

“Yeah, Fallon. Around two weeks ago, he told me everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, and he didn’t finish that drink that night, you did. You picked up his drink and must have thought it was yours. Do you remember what happened the last time you took an upper? I do. It scared the hell out of Hope. Your throat closed, and you ended up in the hospital.”

“What the fuck, Sadie?” Why is she bringing up all this shit?

“Tell me, do you remember the ride home? Do you remember the accident? Do you remember them having to shock you back to life?”

I tilt my head, trying to figure out what in the hell she’s getting at.

“Do you recall Joey arguing with you to get a taxi?”

“Fuck that, he’s just trying to get out of this. Hope died, and it was his fucking fault. Don’t let him convince you otherwise.”

“Fallon—” She punches me in the chest. “He tried to talk you into calling a cab, but you, gotta be in control of everything, fucking refused to,” she says, tears streaming down her face. “Fallon, it was you!” She hits me again in the chest. “Fallon, you were driving the fucking car.”

No. I stumble back from Sadie. No. I clench my chest. No. My heart thumps hard beneath my sweaty hand. No. My skin prickles, then that familiar numbness takes over, freezing my shattered senses.

“You can’t remember any of it because you had an allergic reaction to the drug that was in Joey’s drink. He didn’t realize it until you were both in the car, and you weren’t making any sense. When you started to lose control of the car, he tried to grab the wheel. He did. But you pushed him away. It was an accident, Fallon. Just a fucking accident!”

 I stare at her, fearful of moving, of making this any more real than it already is. I blink. My eyes slowly move to Joey…for the first time in years seeing my friend, and not the monster who stole my Hope from me. My throat is so dry, that comforting numbness subsides, and my insides begin to tremble. “Joe?” I glower down at the man who at one time I’d trust with my life. I search my old friend for the truth.

“I,” with his head bowed, I hear him clear his throat. “I checked on her first, Fallon.” He lifts his head, eyes bloodshot and watery. “She was breathing, but when I came around to you, I couldn’t find a pulse. I pulled you from the car and started CPR. The paramedics came. They started working on you, got a pulse. When the cops showed up…fuck, Fallon,” his lip quivers. “You couldn’t handle it. Hope was bad, and buddy, I knew,” he takes a shallow breath, “I knew about the baby. Hope told me and seeing her pinned to that tree,” he shakes his head. “Fuck, if she didn’t pull through, I knew it would kill you to lose both of them. So, I told the cops it was me ‘cause you’re right. I may not have been driving the car, but it was my fault.”

No! I manage to remain upright, but stumble back a few more feet. God! No! Is it true? Did I kill my beautiful Hope? Shit starts to blur, again. I can’t catch my breath. The air won’t keep in my burning lungs. I want to scream. Break, hit, and hurt something, tear the shit out of everything. But after these past three years, my body, it’s fucking beat. I believe Joe, ‘cause I know that look too, when he’s telling the truth. I got no fight left in me. Even with the anger coursing through my veins, my weakened muscles drop. I grab my throat because I can’t breathe. My heart’s beating so fast. I clutch tighter to my chest and collapse to my knees. I feel myself falling. My body sways backward. I gasp for air. Sitting back on my heels, I lower my head and cover my face with my shaking hands. I can’t hear anything but the sound of my own struggling breaths, feel anything but the rapid beating of my heart, and I can’t see anything but darkness, always the fucking darkness. Convinced, now, that I do belong here in this endless darkness.

I killed my wife. Oh, God! I killed my child. I stole my baby’s life. It was me. I’m the fucking monster. My revenge, the killer I’ve been waiting to destroy, all along it’s been me. It can’t be true. No. I can’t do it. No. I can’t think about it. Fuck. Oh God! It was me. I know it. It was fucking me! I just want to lie down on the ground and slip away into the darkness, forever.  

Then, I hear the faint call of my name. “Fallon?”

Slowly, I pull my hands from my face. I look up and there she is, light glowing all around her; there stands my sweet angel.

Chapter Twenty

Katie

When I got to Sadie’s house, I saw Fallon beating the shit out of some guy on the lawn. I jumped out of the car and ran over. Then I saw the woman and something inside made me stop. They hadn’t noticed my arrival. Now, feet bolted to the cement sidewalk, I watch and listen from a distance. Fallon’s rage, desperation, and guilt radiates straight to me. There’s a sharp stab to my heart, and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold in the pain. How is Fallon going to get through this, knowing he was the one driving the car that killed Hope? Panic as I’ve never known before wells in my throat. I’ve seen him shut down before, but never like this. As if in slow motion, he drops to his knees. A man defeated, he’s giving up. It’s quiet, the only sounds that echo through the darkness are Fallon’s quick shallow breaths. His head lowers, and he covers his face with unsteady hands. I want to cry, just cry.

But I can’t.

I let my hands descend to my sides, lift my chin, and move toward him. The woman and man, who I can only assume are Sadie and Joey, cautiously watch me. My shaky legs bring me to the fallen man on the ground.

“Fallon,” I whisper through the stillness. His head tilts back, hands gliding down from his face. Eyes dark, off in some faraway place of despair, I’m not sure he sees me. I gaze down at him, afraid to speak or move. I don’t know what he’s going to do. I know at any minute that he could blow. What I don’t expect is his arms to wrap around my waist, or for him to rest his face against my belly. But when he does, I reach down and gently touch him. I stand there holding the man I love as his shoulders shake and he softly cries against my body.

“Oh, Fallon.” I slowly draw my fingers through his hair.

He starts to rise. His face and arms slide up my body, clinging to me as he stands. He pulls me closer, crushing me to him. “Fuck,” he rasps against my neck, his tears moistening my skin. “Katie,” he says, his voice breaking up, “I fucking killed her.”

Fully aware that no matter what I say, I can’t convince him otherwise, and prepared to stand here as long as he needs me to, I squeeze my arms tighter around him. I hold him.

After a few moments, he draws back from me, wiping his face. He takes a deep breath, lets it out, and looks up at the sky. That’s when I get a strong whiff of alcohol.  “Hey,” I touch his shoulder, “why don’t you let me take you back to my place tonight?”

His chest rises as he inhales again. “Yeah,” he looks down at me, blinking a few times. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Give me your keys.” I hold out my hand. “We’ll take your truck, but I’ll drive.”

He stares at my hand with that faraway lost look before reaching into his pocket for the keys. He hands them to me, and then without a word, he heads off to the street toward his truck.

The woman walks over to me. “I don’t know who the hell you are but thanks.”

I smile at her. “I’m Katie, a friend of Fallon’s. You must be Sadie,” I glance over at the man, “and you’re Joey, right?” The guy nods his head.

“I didn’t know Fallon had any friends left,” Sadie says with a faint smile. “I thought I was going to have to pull out the cuffs and haul his ass to jail.”

“There’s no need for that. I’ll take care of him,” I say.

“You sure?” Sadie’s brow rises.

“Yeah, I don’t live far from here. We’ll be okay.”

“Here, give me your keys. We’ll follow you guys. Joey can drive your car home in case you need it.”

“No that’s—”

“Really.” She shakes her head. “It’s no problem, just be sure Fallon doesn’t drive tonight. He’s pretty messed up, and I think he’s been hitting the bottle hard.”

“All right.” I pull my keys from my purse and look at Joey, lip bleeding and eye swollen, poor guy. “Just hit home on the GPS and it’ll give you directions.”

He nods, reaches out, and takes my keys. My heart goes out to the man. He went to jail for three years to save his friend from knowing the truth. He must really care about Fallon.

“Thanks.” I smile at him and Sadie before I turn to make my way to the truck, to Fallon. My heart sinks down into the pit of my belly.

I yank the truck door open, and Fallon is staring straight ahead. He lifts the bottle of Jack from between his thighs and takes a gulp. This is how I first found him, broken and shitfaced. Well, I’m not going to say anything. I know he needs this. I get it. He doesn’t want to feel anything right now, and honestly, I can’t blame him.

I stick the key in the ignition and set off for my apartment.

Parking his truck in front of my building, I see my car behind me. I shut the engine off. Sadie comes to the window, and I roll it down. She looks over at Fallon, who’s still staring off into nowhere. She hands me my keys, along with a business card. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” I say taking them from her.

Her lips thin, she shakes her head, and walks away.

I turn to Fallon. “You ready?”

Eyes fixed straight ahead, he doesn’t respond. I set my hands on my lap and wait.

“Ya know,” he finally says, still staring out into the darkness. “Those last two weeks, I refused to talk about the accident. I didn’t want to upset her. And I never told her that I felt it was my fault, but she kept telling me that it wasn’t,” he turns to me, eyes wet and glossy. “She knew. She fucking knew all along that I was driving the car, and she never said anything. Fuck, she never once blamed me. I was the one who stole her beautiful life from her,” his voice breaks apart, “who killed our child, and all the way to me watching her take her last breath, she never said a word.”

My heart squeezes tight in my chest. “She loved you.” I place my hand on his thigh. “And it was an accident.”

He drops back against the headrest, blowing out a loud sigh. “Fuck!” He pushes his hands through his hair.

I rub his thigh. Sometimes, not saying anything is better than trying to talk things out.

“Fuck it. Let’s go.” He grabs the bottle from between his legs and gets out of the truck.

I jump out of the vehicle, clicking and locking it behind me. Fallon stumbles, feet crossing and body wavering. He leans against the wall as we wait for the elevator, and then takes the same position once we’re in it. He sips from the bottle as I work to open my apartment door. Once inside, he makes a beeline for my sofa and slumps down onto it, back to sipping on that damn bottle.

“I’m gonna go change,” I say, and head for my bedroom. After changing and making a pit stop at the bathroom, I come back into the living room to find him passed out on the sofa.  I stand, staring at him. Head snuggled into the cushion, mouth partially open, lips full and relaxed. He looks so peaceful, hand curled close to his chest, the bottle wedged between his side and his arm. Sure, drunk, but still peaceful. I reach down, gently remove the bottle, and set it on my coffee table. Leaning back over him, I run my knuckles over his soft whiskers. “Fallon,” I softly say. “Fallon, come on. Let’s go to bed.” I feather my fingers along his cheek. His eyes slit open, and they move to me.  “Come on.” I slip my hand into his and give a little tug.

His body shifts forward and then sways back. He rights himself, and somehow manages to get into a standing position. I help him to my room. He plops down on the bed. I stand in front of him and start to pull his shirt up. “Lift your arms.” He raises his hands, trying to assist me. I toss his shirt on my nightstand. “Lie down.” I lightly push on his chest, and he falls back onto the mattress. I unbutton his pants, yank them from his limp legs, fold the jeans, and place them on top of his shirt.