Page 46 of Faded Rhythm
Sable
I’m freezing.
And everything looks fuzzy.
My throat’s dry and achy. My limbs feel like they’re underwater. My chest aches, deep and sharp like something’s stabbing it.
But I see my family.
I think back, surprised that I remember. I remember every detail down to the sound of the gunshot. The only thing I don’t know is how long I’ve been in this bed.
And where my babies are.
“The girls,” I whisper. “Where are they?”
Ebony’s face comes into view. She leans down so I can focus. Her eyes are red and puffy.
“They’re okay,” she says. “They’re with Ashlynn. They’re safe.”
Relief floods over me like a wave, but it’s short-lived. “Where’s Julian?” I croak, my voice thin and cracked even as I try to raise it.
Silence.
Everyone in the room—Mama, Ebony, my auntie, even the doctor—glances at each other, but nobody answers.
“Do you need anything?” Mama asks, smoothing the sheet across my lap like that might distract me.
I try to sit up and regret it immediately. My body screams in protest. My head pounds, and there’s pain just under my collarbone that’s radiating outward like a wildfire trapped inside me. I wince and fall back against the pillow.
“Let’s just hear what the doctor—“ Mama begins.
“No,” I sob, cutting her off. The tears come faster than I can wipe them. “I don’t wanna talk to anybody until I know how Julian is. Just tell me he’s okay. Please.”
Ebony sighs. She looks around, locking eyes with the family, then goes to the door.
I turn my face toward the ceiling and cover my eyes with my hand. The tears sting salty and hot down the side of my face. I feel helpless. Every cell in my body aches for him. I need to see him. I need… him .
I hear heavy footsteps and sigh with relief. I know the sound of those boots anywhere.
My heart leaps.
The tears come again.
And then he’s here, staring down at me.
He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks. His face is thinner, too. But that doesn’t matter. It’s him .
He leans down, gently pulling me into his arms. I melt against him, sobbing into his shirt. I don’t care about the IV or the pain or the loud beep of the machines. I only care that he’s here, and that he’s holding me.
I hear my mother’s voice over my sobs. “Let’s give them a minute.”
“But the doctor—“
“Come on, Ebony. Now.”
And then, it’s quiet.
“Hey,” he says softly, his hand trembling as he brushes my hair back. “I’m so sorry.”
I don’t answer. I can’t. I’m still overwhelmed.
“You don’t have to worry about anything anymore,” he says. “I took care of it.”
I blink up at him. “What does that mean?”
“It means I settled all scores.”
He steps back, his expression unreadable, then reaches into his pocket.
When I see what comes out, I gasp.
A gold chain.
A dollar sign pendant.
He leans forward and fastens Dash’s chain around my neck with careful fingers, taking care to move the heavy pendant behind me. The click of the clasp sounds like a door closing and feels oddly final.
“I wanted to return this,” he says, “and make sure you were okay. But…” he trails off and grabs my hand in his. “I have to say goodbye.”
I blink at him, confused. Bewildered.
“Where are you going?”
“Away. For a while.”
“No,” I breathe, clutching his wrist. “Why?”
“Because…I’m not good for you.” His voice cracks. “You have daughters to think about, and I need to get my shit together. I’m not what you need, and I won’t be until I figure some shit out.”
“You don’t have to leave to do that,” I whisper, tears falling freely. “Please, Julian. I can’t lose another man I love.”
His eyes moisten, but he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Sable. I have to go.”
And just like that, he walks out of my room and my life.
I should have known better, I suppose. A man with no family, no roots, a man accustomed to running from trouble, not to mention creating it. I really should have known better.
But that knowledge doesn’t make this any less painful.
I cry until my chest burns and my bandages feel like they’re suffocating me. I cry until my eyes run dry.
There’s a soft knock at the door.
A doctor steps in, tablet and clipboard in hand. She looks friendly, but concerned. She quietly takes a seat next to my bed and sets the clipboard in her lap.
“I’m sorry,” she says gently, handling me a tissue. “This probably isn’t the best time, but my shift ends soon and I wanted to make sure we chatted first.”
I nod my thanks for the tissue. “Might as well.”
She adjusts her glasses. “You took a single gunshot wound just below your left clavicle. The bullet missed your heart and lung, thankfully. It was lodged near the subclavian artery. If it had hit even a centimeter to the right, it would have ruptured it.”
I glance down at the bandage covering my shoulder and chest, feeling the weight of that reality.
“We had to remove part of the damaged tissue. There’s going to be some stiffness in the joint for a while. You may need physical therapy to restore full mobility to your left arm, but that’s just a maybe. We’ll see how you progress over the next few weeks.”
I nod slowly, digesting it.
“Due to the location of the wound and the trauma to the nerves, you may experience numbness, tingling, or weakness in that arm over the long term. We’ll know more when your swelling goes down.”
She pauses, adjusting her glasses again. “Do you have someone that can be with you your first week home?”
“My mom and sister.”
“Okay, good. They told me you have small children. You’re going to need a little help, that’s all. Consider it a vacation.”
I give a weak chuckle.
“Other than that, your vitals are strong. You’re a fighter.”
Funny, because I just let a man I love walk out on me without a fight. I wonder how that works.
“Thank you,” I say. “So how much longer here?”
“Another few days. Just as a precaution.”
She takes her glasses off and tucks them into the pocket of her white coat. She regards me with a strange expression I can’t quite read. Pity, maybe. Could also be concern.
“Is something wrong?” I ask softly, my pulse kicking up.
“Not…wrong, necessarily. There’s just…one more thing.”
I brace myself for the worst, but what comes next gives me the shock of my life.