Chapter 25 Stone
TWENTY-FIVE
STONE
“Goddammit!”
Vanna lies on the bathroom tile, still and sticky from the blood starting to pool beneath her.
Kneeling, I lift her up into me, grabbing a towel from the vanity and pressing it to her arm. She stares up at me with an empty, wet gaze and I frown.
“Why would you do this, Darkness?”
I hold the towel tightly to her, trying to get the bleeding to slow.
She opens her mouth, but only whimpers as a fresh sob takes its place. She curls into me, her face burying into my lap and I comb through her hair in a soothing rhythm.
It’s a good few minutes before the crying fades and she starts to catch her breath again.
“Shh. That’s it. Good girl, just take deep breaths. I’m here.” I brush my lips against her damp forehead and force her gaze to mine.
My thumb rubs away at the smeared blood on her cheek until it’s gone, then I sit her up. She sinks back into my chest as I lean against the vanity. Slowly, I pull the towel away to check her arm and find it’s not so deep that it needs stitches, but it’s certainly not pretty.
She still has the razor between her two fingers, so I pluck it from her hand. It’s small and flimsy, probably the reason why it never went too deep. It’s filling again with more blood, but it won’t stop until we tape it up.
“Stay here.”
When I return, I kneel in front of her and take a wet rag against her cut. I gently wipe at the flecks starting to form and then soak up whatever is still leaking.
“Hold your arm together to close the wound.” I tell her and she doesn’t fight me.
As she does so, I peel off the backing of the first butterfly strip and place it at the top of the four-inch wound. Then add five more to close it tightly together. As I layer a bit of gauze, I catch her watching me.
“My mother was right.” She whispers.
The sound of the medical wrap startles her as I unravel it and begin to wind it around her forearm.
“Fuck that, Vanna. There’s not a single thing your mother said tonight that was right and you know it.”
“I’m damaged beyond repair, Stone. And if anything, this should prove it.”
My insides start to coil from the burning rage her words ignite. My hand snaps out, gripping her cheeks between my fingers.
“This? This was a cry for help. You are not fucking damaged beyond repair, Darkness.”
Her brows dip angrily. “A cry for help?”
“Yeah, baby.” I whisper. “Come here.”
I pull her until she’s straddling my lap and hold her to me. My arms wrap around her small body, and I bury my hand in her hair at the nape of her neck. She nuzzles her head against my chest, tucked just under my chin, and I cherish this very moment.
“Tell me why you did it.”
She takes several deep breaths before her voice breaks the silence.
“I couldn’t breathe. I felt stuck in my own body, I guess.”
“Why do you let her do this to you?”
She pulls back enough to face me. “Let her? Stone, I don’t let her do anything. This isn’t something I can help. I look at her and all I can see is the years of abuse I had to live through so she could get high and fucked until she forgot who she was, let alone that she even had a daughter.”
As she says abuse, my heart splinters into a million shards and explodes until every organ inside my body is pierced and bleeding. My Vanna, abused.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It has nothing to do with you.”
But it will. What she doesn’t know is that I will never allow another person to ever make her feel like this again.
Instead of telling her that, I pick her up and take her into her room. Carefully, I strip her of her stained pajamas. First her shirt, then her pants. She steps out of them and climbs into her bed when I lift the blankets.
I follow in after her, my clothes in a pile next to hers and pull her into me. She doesn’t fight me or argue, just lies there limply against my chest.
“Vanna you’re worth the world to me.”
Her breaths begin to slow, and her muscles lose the tension that was once there. When I know she’s sleeping, I slip out of her bed and into some clothes.
I’m going to fucking kill Clarice Taylor.
Sneaking out into the hallway, I call Tony.
“Do you know what fucking time it is?” He grumbles.
“Three in the morning. Look, something happened.”
“Is Vanna alright?” He asks, more alert now.
“Yeah, I guess.” I sigh. “Not really? Her fucking mother showed up, and it sent her into a downward spiral. I kicked the bitch out, but...”
“She still around?”
“Not sure. I was going to go find her. Tony, I think I might fucking kill her.”
The line is silent and for a second, I think the call has dropped, but then he speaks.
“Got any painkillers lying around?”
Running through a mental checklist, I remember the bottle of oxy prescribed to me when I broke my ribs a few summers ago at a concert.
“Yeah.”
“Crush up as many as you can and let it dissolve in a bottle of liquor. See if the whore has enough will power to turn it away.” He chuckles darkly to himself.
“Then what?”
“Then leave her. She did it to herself, Stoney boy. Don’t even think twice about it. Call me if you have any trouble.”
I hang up and consider what I’m about to do, but surprisingly I don’t find an ounce of hesitation. For Vanna, I’d do anything.
It doesn’t take much to find Clarice. Not when I peer down the alleyway of our own apartment building and find her propped against the brick, next to a dumpster.
Her head lolls to the side as if she doesn’t have the strength to keep it up and the needle lying next to her tells me everything I need to know.
I kneel down and prop my elbows against my thighs. Her eyes flutter open for a brief second before a cocky smirk crawls across her face, and she cackles.
“I knew you’d be back.” She drawls.
“Oh, Clarice.” I sigh, shaking my head.
“Are you going to help me up or what, you little prick?”
She doesn’t move, just licks her lips and drops her head again.
“Yeah, I’m going to help. Here.” I hand over a small liquor bottle.
“The fuck?”
“Look, you can’t stay with us but take this as a peace offering.”
She scoffs but doesn’t have the energy to fight me. “Whatever. You’re ruining my high, so unless you’re going to fuck me, get out of my face.”
Smiling, I push myself to my feet, doing just as she asks. In my periphery, I watch as she downs the entire pint of the good tequila she liked from Vanna’s stash. Little does she know, it's laced with enough oxy to stop her vile heart.
After Clarice killed herself, I called Tony to let him know it was done, then told him to call Vanna off. She needs to rest after the night she had, and thankfully, he understood that.
She sighs, checking that very text, then rolls over onto her back to stare at the ceiling. My fingers dip below the blankets and I trail featherlight circles along her belly, relishing the way she sighs at the touch.
“Now that we have the day together, can I get us breakfast?”
Slowly, she faces me. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”
“I know.” I tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “This might come as a shock, but I like spending time with you.”
She lets out a halfhearted snort, “Not shocked at all, Lover Boy.”
“Be right back.” I tell her, smashing a kiss on the corner of her lips before jumping out of bed.
Outside, an ambulance is parked in front of the building, and a crowd is starting to gather. I linger there for a minute as an officer starts to tape off the area. He glowers at me, probably expecting me to get out of the way as he ties the tape to the right-side door handle.
I back up a few feet, still watching as they pull an empty stretcher out the back of the ambulance and into the alleyway. Immediately, I already know who it is, but I still wait for the covered body to be stuffed back into the truck.
It’s a quick process with little investigation. The needle and alcohol bottle are probably all that’s needed to sum up her death. As the paramedic climbs into the driver’s side, I finally make my way around the block over to Morning Bagels.
When I return, Vanna is already brewing coffee in the kitchen.
“Long line.” I tell her.
She looks up at me with a startled expression. “Did you see what’s happening outside?”
I stiffen. “Yeah. Ambulance was hauling someone away.”
“Did you see it?”
I shrug, “Just a body underneath a blanket.”
“So, they’re dead?”
Biting my lower lip, I try to guess the thoughts running through her head.
“I assume so. You okay?”
She nods but then spins fully to face me. “I can’t help wondering if it’s my mother.”
“What, why?” My brows jump to my hairline, my nerves prickling my skin.
“I don’t know. I just have this gut feeling.”
I inch closer to her, pulling her into my chest. “And what if it was? Would you be sad?”
She’s quiet a moment before she answers. “I don’t know.”
I’ll take that over a yes any day.
For the remainder of the day, Vanna lets me take care of her. I feed her meals, tend to her wound, and massage the tension right out of her muscles.
We sit on the couch after dinner, a water in her hand and her foot in mine. I squeeze, eliciting a small moan of appreciation from her and the sound goes right to my dick.
She’s a wilted rose in a wildfire and I’m making it my sole purpose to stomp out the flames before they burn her. To water her where she stands and watch her grow, preferably with my baby inside of her, but in other ways too. Her heart needs healing and her mind needs peace.
As I stare at her, I silently vow to make sure it all happens.