Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
MAYA
I t had been over a week since everything happened, and I’d just gotten back from John’s funeral. There was an ache in my belly and chest that wouldn’t leave. Seeing Moreen and their children’s pain was… utterly soul breaking.
Numbly, I kicked off my heels, my back wound twinging a little, and walked to the couch to sit. Ignoring the ache, I brought my legs up and tucked my feet under me. Ruby sat next to me, scooting close to rest her head against my shoulder. My whole family had gone to John’s funeral. Gratitude didn’t even come close to what I felt having them at my side.
“I’ll make some coffee,” Mum suggested, and walked down the hall with Dad following.
Drake took the chair beside the couch Ruby and I sat on and picked up the remote. “What do you two want to watch? And it can’t be some lovey-dovey movie that’ll make me gag.”
I managed a small laugh. “You pick.”
“Action?” he asked.
“Anime,” Ruby said.
“Anything, really,” I told them. The tight smile I’d attempted disappeared when I remembered the bellowing cry Moreen had made when John’s coffin lowered into the ground.
It still rang in my ears over and over.
With glassy eyes, I blinked to clear them and felt the tears fall.
Hadn’t I cried enough?
When would I run out of tears?
They never seemed to stop over the week.
John deserved to be mourned. But even more, he deserved to be alive.
Ruby pressed herself closer into me, bringing me back. Absently, I kissed the top of her head. I glanced at the television and noticed Drake had chosen a show we’d started binging on a few days ago. A show that would usually blank my mind, but my brain didn’t want to be distracted. Instead, it played the funeral over and over.
How Moreen had come to me and held me close as we both cried. How his family had all given me looks of sympathy. How I’d learned more things about John, things we wouldn’t ever get to talk about. Things I couldn’t tease him about and see his laugh or smile.
A knock on the door startled me, my back twinging again when I turned too fast. Drake got out of his chair, saying, “I’ll get it.” Drake opened the door and my stomach clenched when I saw Samuel. “Ah, hey, Mr Nareen.”
“Hello, Drake, is Maya in?”
My wonderful brother glanced over his shoulder and pulled the door closed more. “She is, but it ain’t a good time. The funeral was today.”
“Isn’t.”
“What?” Drake asked.
“Now isn’t a good time. No one says ain’t.”
Unease filled me. I didn’t like Samuel correcting Drake like that.
“Right,” Drake drew out. “Anyway, I’ll tell my sister you stopped by.”
“Thank you, and please let her know I’ll call her later.”
I wished he wouldn’t. Like he had tried over the week. Though, I did feel a little guilty for dodging his calls and drop-bys. I just didn’t want to deal with someone I hardly knew when I was in such a mess.
Drake closed the door and leaned against it. “I used to think he was cool, but, sis, you could do better.”
Amusement unlocked my tense form and replaced the unease. “Thanks, Drake, I’ll keep your opinion in mind.”
He went back to his chair. “Seriously, I didn’t realise he had a stick wedged up his arse so much. He’s never corrected me before.”
“Maybe he has a lot on his mind and it slipped out,” Ruby tried with a shrug. She always saw the best in people. It was sweet, and I prayed no one walked all over her for it.
Really, I couldn’t be annoyed with Samuel too much. It was my fault for not speaking to him. He could just be worried for me. Yet, I didn’t want his worry.
Another knock sounded, and Drake groaned as he got up and went to the door. He opened it. “Sir?”
“I forgot to pass these on. They were in the car.” There was a crinkling sound, and Drake now held a bunch of flowers.
God, now I felt like a bitch.
Patting Ruby’s thigh, I got to my feet when I heard a rumble of pipes. One of Dad’s brothers was about to show. As far as I knew, Samuel didn’t know my family was a part of a motorcycle club.
The rumble stopped when I reached the door, and Drake noticed me. My brother stepped outside and I filled the doorway.
Samuel smiled pleasantly. “Maya, it’s good to see you.”
“You too, Samuel. I really appreciate your concern, and the flowers, but I’m not the best company right now.” Instinctively, I ran my fingers over the scab down the side of my face when his gaze snagged on it.
“I understand that.”
“Yo, Drake.”
My heart stilled before it gave off a giant leap.
The bike had been Texas’s.
“Texas, hey,” Drake replied with a beaming grin.
Texas bounded up the stairs and stopped between Samuel and Drake. “What’s happenin’?” He looked from Drake to Samuel, and then his gaze landed on me.
If I didn’t know any better, I was sure his face softened.
Not that it mattered.
It didn’t.
“Dad’s inside, Texas. Go on through,” I told him.
Samuel sputtered, “He’s allowed in?”
Texas faced Samuel and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Samuel, he’s here to see my father,” I said gently. “I told you I’m not up for company right now.”
The guy who I’d only been on two dates with turned his nose up at Texas before he looked back at me. “I understand, Maya. We’ll speak soon. Feel better.”
Feel better?
Like I was sick.
I wasn’t sick.
I was heartbroken. I was sore, angry, hurt, and now annoyed.
Feel better like it was only an illness affecting me. Like I hadn’t been put through a situation so devastating it would live with me for the rest of my life. I didn’t even know if I’d be able to go back to work. Would I be able to trust other patients? Would I be able to work with someone else?
“Drake, give us a moment,” I heard Texas say, but I was watching Samuel walk to his car while wondering what I ever saw in a man who could say “feel better” to someone after losing a person in their life who meant a lot.
He didn’t know what loss was.
He didn’t know so many people were broken over missing John.
He would never know what a good man John had been.
Feel better?
Really?
“Maya?”
Samuel’s car drove off, and I spun to Texas. “Did you hear him?” I yelled. He nodded, arms dropping to his sides. I snorted out a humourless huff. “Feel better, like this”—I pounded on my chest as tears brimmed my eyes—“ ache of loss is something I can fix easily with a pill.” I gripped at my dress over my chest. “Like what I went through, what John went through was something small that could be healed in a few days. In a month.” I shook my head and more tears fell. “It can’t be fixed. It can’t be cured. I lived through that. John didn’t! And now… now I’ll keep living through it as it repeats over and over in my head.” With the heel of my palm, I tapped it against my temple again and again. “I’ll keep remembering how I heard John gurgling, not knowing he was fighting for his last breath. I’ll keep knowing I didn’t help—” My throat closed over, and I whimpered.
“Maya, no.” Texas’s tone was hard and rough. I heard him step closer. “You were fighting. It ain’t your fault for John’s death. It was that fuckin’ cunt.”
I gripped my hair, head hanging. “I-I could have done more. I could have fought harder. Injured him more to get to John.”
So many different scenarios had played over and over in my mind about how I could have saved John. If only I’d been stronger, wiser, and smarter. They played over all the time.
Warm arms surrounded me, and the familiar scent of Texas invaded my senses.
“You did everything you could at the time,” he whispered.
I shook my head against his chest. “I-If I did, John would be alive.”
“But you could have been lost. You don’t know what would have happened if you did things differently. Other people could have been around, and he might’ve got to them instead. If you saved John, it could have meant ten other lives were lost. You don’t know, and you can’t keep thinkin’ what you did wasn’t enough. It was, Maya. It goddamn was.”
“It hurts, Texas. So much.” A sob caught in my throat, and I made a whining noise. I grabbed his tee and gripped the material as my knees grew weak.
“I know, baby.”
“It’s not fair,” I cried against him.
“It’s not.” He pulled me closer, holding me tighter. “Just hold on, baby, and let it out. Don’t hold anythin’ in. You got people to support you, to hold you up.”
So I did.
I held on and wept. Seconds or minutes later, I was swept up into his arms. I heard the front door open and Mum say, “On the couch.”
With my head buried in his shoulder and neck, Texas sat with me on his lap as I cried.
“I’ll take her,” Dad said.
“I’ve got her.”
“Texas, give her over.”
“No offense, but she’s stayin’ right where she is.” Arms tightened around me once more, and one slid up to cup the back of my head.
“Texas—”
“Talon, honey. Come here. Kids, kitchen please.”
Footsteps sounded around me and then silence, except for the sounds I made. I wanted to stop them. I wanted to push Texas away. But everything slammed down on top of me, and I couldn’t do anything but hang on and feel.
Fingers slid through my hair. “You’ll be okay, baby. You will. Let it out, Maya. Give the pain to me.”
I wished I could. I wished it was that easy—to give it away.
It wasn’t. It never would be.
But I wanted to believe him that I’d be okay. It was just that in that moment, I didn’t feel it. I wanted to remember when I told myself I could get through this for me, for my family, but I couldn’t. Not now.
Instead, I let it out. Everything I’d been feeling. The pain I’d locked away over the week, while trying to show everyone I was strong, that I was dealing and getting through this.
I let it all out.
Until I couldn’t cry anymore.
Until exhaustion took over, and sleep finally dragged me under.