Where Words Fail (19 page)

“And that would be?”

“You. My family. The last few years that I spent in this great jail cell thanks to you.”

My phone vibrated in the back pocket of my shorts. I knew it was Jameson wondering where I was. I slid my hand over it to keep him from noticing and tapped the screen a few times, hoping that it would either send him some weird message, or I would end up calling him. When I pulled my hands out of my pockets, I rested them on my hips.

Was I scared? Yes. Was I afraid he was going to do something stupid? Yes. Was I going to show him how scared I was? Hell fucking no. He might have worked out while he was in jail and was now big and beefy, but I didn’t spend the last few years in self-defense classes because of him just to back down now.

“I’m not yours, Matt. And as for you losing your family and ending up in jail... That’s all on you. Did I bash your head off our kitchen sink multiple times? Did I beat you every chance I got? Or rape you? Did I crack your cheekbone from the force of one punch? No... I didn’t. That was you, you sick fucking bastard. You are the reason your family hates you. You are the reason you went to jail.”

“You stupid fucking BITCH!” His fists curled by his sides as he blew the water off his face while he screamed at me. I just stood there praying Izzy would sleep through this. She doesn’t need to know about all this shit. I was also praying either Jameson would come looking for me or Paul would realize something was wrong. “I should just beat the sh-..”

“You better think twice about that.”

“About what? Putting you back in your place? You think just because you’re some big star now that I can’t? You’re still the same old broken conniving slut you always were.”

“I’m not the same girl I was when I was with you...”

“No? I hear you’re still ending up in jail cells... Some things never change do they?” His cold grin caused me to falter on my response time, and I didn’t realize that he was stepping closer to me as he talked. “I hear he’s back. I bet you’re so happy now! Finally got back what you could never get over. Tell me Abigail, was he as upset over leaving you as much as you were? Was he sad that you killed his baby?”

“YOU SON OF A FUCKING BITCH.” I hit him in the chest with the palms of my hands, causing him to stumble backwards, but before I could hit him again his left fist struck me on the side of my face. The sound of cracking bones was all I could hear around the rain. The pain, it was a pain I had felt before... This fucker just broke my cheekbone again... The same one as before.

My body fell to the ground and landed in a mud puddle. If I hadn’t been soaked before I definitely was now. Matt threw himself over me. His knees landing on either side of my stomach as he grabbed my neck. Fingers wrapped around my throat as he pressed his thumbs down. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream. Blackness was creeping into my line of sight making Matt’s figure blurry. I didn’t fight it, didn’t thrash around trying to escape. He was finally succeeding in what he wanted. All I wanted was to tell Alex and Izzy I loved them. And Jameson. I wanted to tell Jameson I loved him. Make love to him again. Then I could die happy.

“You mother fuc-” Was the last thing I heard before everything went black.

Jameson

I’ve been sitting in this God forsaken waiting room for the past four hours. When we pulled up behind the ambulance, I was instructed that I would have to stay out here. Personally, I think it’s bullshit, this family only rule. She’s the love of my life, doesn’t that make her my family? If it doesn’t, it should.

Well, I was sent to the waiting room after they fixed up my hand. After attacking Matt and repeatedly punching him in the face until Paul and Allen pulled me off, I broke the knuckle on my middle finger and my ring finger of my right hand.

So now I’m sitting in the waiting room by myself. Alex is back in the room with Abby and the police. Chief Cooper showed up a little while ago looking every shade of green you could possibly imagine, muttering something about killing his no good son. He stopped and thanked me for saving Abby. At least, he wasn’t blaming either of us for hurting his son.

Paul and every other guard he had stationed at the farm is here as well. He is pacing back and forth in front of her room with his head down and his hands stuffed into his pockets while the other three are keeping the media at bay. They are having a field day with this, and it couldn’t have taken more than twenty minutes for them to get here and start badgering us with questions.

My mind’s still reeling... One second I’m lying in bed texting Abby about joining me and the next she’s calling me. But I didn’t expect the phone call to consist of what it did. Screaming between her and some guy.

When my phone had started ringing I just figured it was Evan calling to tell me about his latest hook up. Because, let’s face it... He likes to brag ‘em up, and he’s usually the only person to call me at odd hours of the night.

But it wasn’t. At first, I couldn’t make out what they were saying so I just thought maybe she had butt dialed me and was talking to Paul or Alex. Then they started yelling and I realized it had to be Matt, which instantly put me on edge. I ran down the stairs in nothing but my pajama pants holding the phone to my ear. I managed to figure out he was yelling at her about me, but then he asked if the person he was talking about was mad that she killed his baby... Surely he couldn’t be talking about me. She would have told me if she had been pregnant. Right? And how did she kill her own baby?

I was bent over in the uncomfortable vinyl covered chair with my head resting on my hands, staring at the floor. I couldn’t even control myself this time. The tears flowed silently as I sat there alone waiting to find out the extent of Abby’s injuries.

“Hey.” Alex pushed his way through the emergency room doors. His hair was a mess. His shirt was on inside out. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. This is the worst I’ve ever seen him look.

I brushed the wetness off my face and stood to meet him. “How’s she doing?”

“Dude...” His voice cracked. “If you hadn’t been there, if you had gotten there a minute later... Fuck... Thank you.” He threw his arms around my shoulders and continued to thank me for saving her.

“How bad is it?”

“Uh, she’s got another broken cheekbone and she’s got some major handprints on her throat. They said if you hadn’t gotten to her when you did she could have died.”

“Fuck...” The thoughts of Abby dying had plagued my mind since I got here. It was not something I ever wanted to have to deal with.

“Yeah, uh... She’s scared and kinda out of it. She wants to see you but she’s scared too. If that makes any sense. She’s afraid of you seeing her broken like this. I told them you were family and even if they didn’t believe it, they said ok.” I nodded my head and stuffed my hands into my pockets. “So if you want to go see her that’s fine, but I’ve got to make a statement to the assholes out front and get home to Izzy. She was pretty scared when we left. If you want to come home one of the guys will drive you when you’re ready.”

“Alex?”

“Yeah man...”

“I’m not going anywhere unless she kicks me out.”

I made my way past Paul to her room. His sullen look did nothing to encourage a change in my mood. I was pissed at myself for letting her go outside alone. It was my fault he was so mad at her. I was essentially the reason she was here.

Standing in her doorway, I could make out the bruising on her neck. You could see every single fucking finger from his disgusting fucking hands. The urge to kill him bubbled up in my stomach, and if I wasn’t staring at the love of my life laying in a hospital bed, I’d go find that fucker and kill him before he had a chance to go back to jail. I knew he was here somewhere, but nobody would tell me where.

Abby was facing away from me, so I was looking at the side of her face that wasn’t broken. I couldn’t tell if she was sleeping or just staring out the window, so I made my way over to the side of the bed that she was facing. I wanted her to know I was there, but I didn’t want to scare her any more than she already was tonight.

She was awake but looked pretty out of it. She looked at me, with sadness on her face. The entire left side of her face was swollen, split and bruised. Her eye was swollen shut, but you could tell in the way she looked at me, she was waiting for me to bolt.

I sat down in the chair next to her and slowly reached out for her hand with my good hand. Grasping it I brought to my lips and kissed her knuckles. I needed her to know I wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m so sorry babe. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I’m so scared Jameson.”

“Nothing bad is gunna happen babe. I’m right here.”

“Will you stay here?”

“I’m not leaving you.”

She closed her eyes and rolled over. “Sleep with me?” Absofuckinglutly. I walked around the bed and climbed in next to her, resting my arm around her and she put her head on my chest. She hooked her thumb with mine so she didn’t hit my broken fingers and slid our hands up my chest till they rested above my heart. She nuzzled into my chest until she got comfortable. “I love you Jameson,” she stated sadly.

Abby

I’m tired. And not just from lack of sleep. I’m tired of being stuck in this hospital room. The pure white everything, the beeping, the nurses waking you up every time you fall asleep to see if you’re ok, and the smell. I think the smell is what’s getting to me the most. It smells like bleach and death. It’s like my nose can tell that people have died in this bed and that gives me the heebee jeebees.

I’m tired of not knowing what’s going to happen next. I’m tired of everything not going according to plan. I’m tired of disappointing everyone. Everyone says that I’m not, but I feel as if I am and nobody is going to change the way I feel about myself. I feel this way in everything other than music, but even there I feel like I am a failure. A total disappointment. Mostly, I’m just tired of my life falling apart every time I seem to think I have a handle on it.

It’s taken me years to realize the only person I can fully count on being there whenever I need them, is me. Alex comes in a close second, but he has Izzy to worry about, and she is a million times more important than I am. But the less people I have to think about needing is the less people I need to worry about disappointing, right? Wrong. I worry about everyone. AJ, Jason, Tuesday, Paul... Jameson. And those are only the people right on the front lines with me. Everyone behind the scenes. Everyone who works the ranch. Everyone who has ever even listened to my music. I worry about failing them.

I’ve been in this God forsaken room for three days. They would have let me leave earlier, but the fact that I couldn’t see out of my eye when the swelling finally went down enough to open it, was cause for concern. Alex has been in and out. He issued a statement on my behalf but still don’t know what he said, and I’m not sure that I want to. He brought Izzy by because she didn’t believe I was alright. My face scared her. Hell, my face scares me, but she accepted that I was still alive, and I was going to be fine.

Jameson has only left me alone long enough to take a shower. I feel bad about that though. As much as I don’t want him to go, I don’t really want him here. I don’t want him to see me like this. We don’t talk much. He tries to initiate a conversation, and I just give him one worded answers. It’s like I don’t know how to make my mouth work. All these answers pop into my head but when I open my mouth, only single words come out. It’s aggravating me, so I can’t imagine being on his side of it.

I just stare out the window usually. I don’t watch the TV even though it’s on. I can’t handle having the room silent. I can feel his eyes on me, so I know that he’s staring at me while I’m looking anywhere but at him. I don’t want him to see me broken. It’s hard enough to know that he heard the conversation between Matt and me, and then he saw me being beaten up but the fact that he hasn’t brought up either is unnerving. I was positive he would have brought up the baby questions by now.

Was I ready to talk to him about it? Most definitely not... But would I if he broached the subject? Yes. It wouldn’t be easy. I’d probably cry, but I’d tell him what he wants to know. It’s only right. Hell, I probably should have told him well before this happened, but I was being selfish. I didn’t want to give him everything and watch him walk away again. I’m pretty much the same way when it comes to conversation with everyone else too, except Izzy. At least with her, I can get a full sentence out of my mouth. But even with her it’s hard. She tries to act like everything is ok, telling jokes and stories about her school days. I barely manage to laugh, and I know she can tell I’m forcing it, but she doesn’t say anything.