“Fuck you!” I seethe, pushing him with all my strength. My visions blurs from the fresh tears that have surfaced. He steps up to me again, gripping my wrists.
“You did this?” I whisper, my eyes scanning the floor. I look back up to him. “What did you do?”
“Fuck,” he mutters. “I didn’t fucking do this, Millie. This was planned before I knew what the fuck was going on!”
I shove him, though he doesn’t move, and he looks at me, pained. “Babe, please calm down. The baby,”
“Fuck you!” I scream again, launching out of the bedroom, tears streaming down my face, and my heart pounding in my chest. I fly down the stairs and look from left to right, my eyes landing on the Ferrari keys sitting on the tabletop. My jaw clenches as I walk over to them, snatching them up in my hand and fly out the door.
Beeping the car, I slide in quickly, slamming the start button with my palm until the car purrs to life. Miles is still alive? Shaking my head, I shift it into first gear and skid out on the loose gravel. I need to clear my head. I need to be away from Raze and every fucking lie I’ve been told for the past several months. Miles is still alive?
Tears pour out of my eyes as betrayal seeps into my pores. How could he lie to me? After everything he’s shared, why did he think he couldn’t tell me about Miles? He watched me mourn for him. He watched me shatter and break in front of his very eyes. And yet, he didn’t tell me?
Fuck. Him.
Slamming the gear into third, I floor it forward and onto the main road that leads me to the clubhouse. I need my sister right now. I need her strong words of wisdom and her unreasonable reasoning. I need her—
I look to the left, down a side street, just as a large, black pickup speeds toward me. Everything pauses, my mouth widens, and my hair whips across my face, and that’s the last thing I remember before the brief smashing of metal, and then everything turns black.
“WHERE THE FUCK IS THE GPS?” I bark into the phone.
“I know, I know, I got it, Raze, but it’s not showing anything. It’s like the car has gone off the radar.” Drago panics. He’s one of the few tech nerds I have, but he’s the best.
I pinch between my eyes. “How the fuck can this happen?” I powerwalk down the hallway, clutching my phone in my hand, and swipe up the keys to the Range Rover. Joker and Angel fall in step behind me as I hurry out the front door.
“You won’t like the answer to that question.”
I pause, my hand on the handle of the car. “Spit it out, Drago.”
“Okay, well, this can only happen because of two things.” He pauses, clearing his throat. “One, she has removed the GPS—which is behind the manifold under the hood—or two….” He pauses again, and I swear to God I’ll choke him through this phone if he doesn’t spit it the fuck out. “Two, if there has been a car wreck.” I suck in a breath, hanging up the phone and throwing it into the car.
“What?” Joker clicks his belt on.
I skid out of the driveway and try to squash any possibility of Millie or Iris being hurt. Yeah, so I wasn’t hot on the idea of becoming a father at first—it was a lot to take in with my circumstances—but over the months, I more than warmed up to the idea of becoming a dad. I’m ready for this with Millie, and regardless of whether I had the risk of being a terrible father—though I would try my hardest not to be—Millie is going to be a fucking incredible mother.
I shake my head at Joker.
“Man, she’d go straight to the clubhouse, no doubt,” he says, and he’s right. That’s exactly where she would go. I floor it toward the main highway, turning onto the road that leads to the clubhouse.
“Holy shit,” Joker mutters, sitting up in his seat. There are paramedics everywhere and a line of cars that are waiting. My gut instantly sinks, and I fling my belt off, swing the door open, and step out. Walking toward the wreck, Joker steps out of the passenger side. “Yo! What’re you doing?”
I tilt my head at the mangled mess on the road, and when I make out the emblem on the trunk, I break out in a sprint.
“Raze!” Joker yells, but everything is blacked out. All I see is my car and my pure rage.
“Sir!” One of the officers on the scene steps in front of me. I push him out of my way and run to the driver’s window.
“Sir!” he yells.
“That’s my fucking girl!” I yell, but I don’t get any closer, because the firefighters are right there, near her door, cutting it off.
“Okay, I understand, but you’re going to have to let us do our job.”
I clench my jaw. Once they yank off the metal, displaying Millie, I drop to my knees and all the air inside of me evacuates just as Joker and Angel run up behind me.
“SHE’S GOING TO BE OKAY, boss. This is Millie. She is the strongest, craziest, most stubborn female walking this earth,” Joker tries to relax me. I clench my hair and try to calm my breathing. “This is my fault. You fucking saw her, Joke! Don’t sugarcoat my bullshit!”
“Fuck that, man. It isn’t your fault.”
“I shouldn’t have told her.” I shake my head. “She… the baby… Iris….” I shake my head, clenching my eyes closed as my heart contracts.
“Told her what?”
“Fuck.” I pull on my hair again and quickly get to my feet, pacing up and down the waiting room. When the doors open to Melissa, Beast, Hella, Frost, Hannibal, and Meadow, I stop.
“Raze?” Melissa looks at me, her eyes welling up. I’ve never seen Melissa so broken before.
“Yeah,” I whisper, clearing my throat.
“Have you heard anything?”
I shake my head. “They’ve been gone for an hour.”
“My mom, she’ll be here later today.” Melissa takes a seat on the chair beside where I was sitting earlier, and I drop back down.
“She was bleeding,” I growl, my eyes trained on the floor. I look to Melissa. “I’ve seen blood. I’ve been the cause of blood, but that shit? That scared the fucking shit out of me, Melissa.”
She pats my knee. “I know. But she’s going to be okay.”
She fucking better be, because if she isn’t, I’ll take everyone down with me.
“Raze McKenna?” a doctor asks, walking down the long sterile corridor.
I stand quickly. “Yeah?”
He walks toward me, his glasses shading his tired eyes and his grey hair hanging like frizzled strands off the top of his bald head. “Millie has suffered tremendously from her injuries….”
His voice floats out into the distance as my heart pounds against my chest frantically, and sweat slips down my face. Rage. Pure, undiluted rage begins to boil inside me. My jaw clenches and my fists ball at my sides. Bringing my eyes up to the doc, his words stop me. They’ve frozen me in time. “I’m so sorry, Raze. The baby didn’t make it. We tried what we could—”
My fist launches into the drywall.
“What’s happening?” Melissa and Ella walk up to me, swiping their tears away just as security guards start walking toward us. The doctor shakes his head at them until they retreat back to what they were doing.
“I’m sorry, Raze. There are doctors and support teams at your disposal, shall you need them. Detectives will have to ask you a few questions regarding the accident—when you’re ready, of course.”
Melissa and Ella put two and two together before they both break into tears and go back to their seats.
“I’m ready now,” I growl. I lost the little girl I had fallen in love with, even though I hadn’t met her yet.
“Okay,” the doctor says warily. “Officers are on their way—”
“What? Why?” I don’t know why, but I assumed the accident was caused from Millie speeding erratically, but I should have known she wouldn’t do something like that to jeopardize Iris’ safety. She was mad, but even when she’s foaming-at-the-mouth angry, she’s still calm and collected.
“Well,” the doctor continues, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his jacket. “Someone else was i
nvolved in the accident. The detective will be here soon and will want to ask you a few questions.” Clenching my jaw, I nod my head. “She is awake. Do you want to see her?”
“Yes.”
He starts leading me toward the room, and I fall into step behind him.
Opening it wide, he gestures into the sterile room and I walk in, closing the door behind me. I’m truthfully at a loss for words, and I don’t know what I’m walking in on, but I know this is partly my fault. I shouldn’t have kept it from her, but before I knew it, I had dug myself deeper and deeper. It became more difficult to tell her the longer time went on, and now… now, I’ve lost my daughter, and quite possibly the last bit of Millie that was actually still human.
As I swing the curtain open softly, she senses me entering, but her head remains turned toward the window that overlooks the township below. Pulling the seat over beside her, I drop down. “I’m sorry, baby.”
Out the corner of my eye, I can see her look toward me. “You’re sorry,” she repeats, her tone flat. “You’re sorry?”
Here we go.
Shaking my head, I go to take her hand in mine, but she pulls it away. “I can’t do this with you right now, Raze.”
“I’m here, Millie. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You don’t get it,” she sneers. “You don’t have to go anywhere for me to feel alone, Raze.”
Tears fall from her eyes and I stand from the seat, walking around to the other side of the bed and sitting on the side of her bed. “Millie.” When she doesn’t look at me, I reach for her chin, but she pulls away from my grip.
“This is my fault,” I whisper, and she doesn’t say anything.
Spinning around, I walk out the door, leaving her there.
“An angel in the book of life wrote down my baby’s birth, and whispered as she closed the book, ‘Too beautiful for earth.’”
—Author Unknown
HOLLOW, SINKING SHADOWS SEEP BENEATH me, and my skin crawls from the unknown pain as blood rushes through my eardrums.
“She’s gone. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Sorry for my loss? I never understood why people say that. It’s so casual and has no substance behind it.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
It’s almost as if I’ve lost something mundane and average. Like a teddy bear.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
I hate that saying.
Turning over on my side, I watch as Melissa sleeps curled up on the hospital chair and Raze sleeps by my side. He left last night after we didn’t talk, or rather, I didn’t talk. I thought he would go out and get drunk, drown his sorrows. I don’t know why I thought that. I had never seen Raze drunk before, but it was the first thing that came to mind when he walked out the door, only he came back with a bag of chicken nuggets and a dozen donuts. They’re still sitting on the table, untouched and uneaten.
Why should I eat? I don’t deserve to enjoy anything in life, much less food. Food my daughter will never get to experience. I will never know what she would grow to look like or how she would be. Would she have been like me, or like Raze? Would she have had my wavy mane, or Raze’s straight hair? Did she have his grey eyes, or my green? I’ll never get to experience motherhood. I’ll never get to see Raze scoop her up and melt in her very hands.
Swiping away the fresh set of tears that drop over my cheek, Raze opens his eyes and looks up at me. “Hey.”
I smile softly, but it doesn’t reach my eyes.
Taking my hand in his, he presses a soft kiss in the palm of my hand. It’s a sweet gesture, but I can see the torment in his eyes. He blames himself, when he shouldn’t. Yes, keeping Miles from me was a shitty thing to do, but he didn’t force me into the car. He didn’t force that idiot to ram me from the side.
“Hi,” I reply softly, searching his eyes. “Raze—”
He shakes his head. “Don’t. Don’t. Okay? Just,” he gets up off the bed, “just don’t.”
“Raze, it’s not your fault.”
“Millie? Please.” He shakes his head pleadingly. “I deserve it.”
I inch up, my fresh C-section scar tightening and pulling as I move. I hiss at the sharp, stinging stabs over my womb. Raze sees my discomfort and spins around, dropping back onto the bed. “Babe, sit still. I’ll get you some meds.”
Shaking my head, I lie back down softly and check that Melissa is still asleep, but she’s not. She’s staring right at me.
“Hey, sis.”
I smile. “Hi.” She gets up from her position and looks between Raze and me. “I’ll go. Give you guys some space.” She stands, collecting her handbag and zipping up her hoodie. Bending down, she brushes a light kiss over my forehead. “I’m here. Always.”
I nod. “I know. I love you.”
She smiles sadly, her eyes puffy and red. “I love you too.” Then she looks to Raze. “And you, big guy.” Then she leaves.
I don’t waste time. “Raze, listen to me,” I whisper, and he pauses, running his hands over his unruly hair. “This wasn’t your fault. I won’t let you beat yourself up about something you had no control over.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Millie. I do deserve it. I deserve to live with this… this…,” he searches for a word, but his hand comes up to his heart, “fucking pain for the rest of my life. She was ours. We made her, and I failed her. I failed you too.”
“Raze!”
He shakes his head at me, a small, broken smile pulling across his mouth. “It’s okay, baby.” But it isn’t okay. I can sense it right now that something is going to change from here on out. I’m not sure which way it will fall, but I’m willing to do what I can.
“I’ll go and get some—”
He’s cut off by the door opening slightly. It’s not even 6:00 a.m., so visiting hours haven’t started yet. When the shadowy figure of a hooded man enters, Raze goes flying across the room. The man grips his hoodie and drops it around his neck.
“Hey, puddin’.”
I gasp, my heart—or what’s left of it—launching in my chest. “You motherfucker.”
He smiles sadly, and Raze calms down, backing up to my bed.
Miles walks toward me, and I have to fight the urge not to look at him for too long. His smile drops. I notice his hair is trimmed quite short now. It no longer drops to his collar and is now styled perfectly around his head. His brown eyes are still like molten lava cake, and his features and body are still the same, if not a little bigger.
“I’m sorry, baby girl.”
More tears stream down my face and I shake my head. “Don’t.”
Miles steps forward, and Raze takes a seat on the foot of my bed. I don’t know what to say to Miles right now, so I say the first thing that comes to my head.
“I cried for you,” I whisper, pulling my gaze away from both of them. “I cried every night for you.” I look outside my window to the upscale buildings. “I thought I’d never see you again. Your lifeless eyes were the final memory I had of you, and I thought I was done for. I’d cry myself to sleep in your room while listening to your playlist,” I scoff, shaking my head. “I’d tell myself that I could feel your presence every time I was in your room.”
I turn to look at him finally, only to find his face filled with pain. “Do you know what that’s like, Miles? To see someone you love, dead on the ground, and then to mourn them for months, only to find out they’re alive and that your tears didn’t mean shit?” I shake my head. “I’m not even mentioning Iris, because I don’t think that’s either of your fault. But this,”—I point toward them—“what you’ve done is your fault, and I don’t know when, or if, I’ll ever forgive you for it. But right now, I need to mourn my daughter, someone who deserves my real tears.” I turn onto my side, this time ignoring the sharp stab that digs into my fresh scar, and I keep my eyes on the ticking clock that is hanging on the wall.
“Love you, puddin’,” Miles whispers hoarsely, his breath hitching.
My eyes
stay locked on the rotating hands. “Love you too.”
IF THERE’S ONE THING THAT a person should absolutely never have to do in life, it’s bury their own child. Everything else has a name. A label, even. You lose a parent, you’re an orphan. You lose your husband, you’re a widow. What do you call someone who loses a child?
I look around to everyone who came to pay their respects to our little girl, and my heart aches even more. She had so many people who loved her already, yet she will never know.
Raze stands beside me, slightly in front, and Miles stands to my other side, slightly to the back. Although I know Raze is hurting, he still hasn’t opened up to me, and it’s been three days. I’m hoping he will come around eventually, so we can mourn her together, because at the moment, I feel alone. I know that’s selfish, but I do. I don’t want anyone else’s company but Raze’s. Not my sister. Not Miles. Just Raze. I feel like he’s the only person who can come close to filling the gap Iris has left in my life, because she was ours.
The priest clears his throat. “I will now leave it open for family and close friends to share something with the rest of us.”
I step forward, and Raze’s head snaps toward me, but I ignore him and walk toward the step and microphone near the priest.
Inhaling a deep breath, I clear my throat. “I didn’t write a speech or anything, because I don’t think there are enough words that could articulate the pain I feel right now.” I look to Raze to find his brows pinched together. “But I wrote a poem.” I undo the golden envelope and pull out the black piece of paper that has the poem written in gold ink. With shaky hands, already feeling my throat swell from emotions, I read the poem I wrote the first night at the hospital.
“Holding out my empty arms, I wait for your first cry.
But the doctor just tells Mommy, ‘Sorry, your little girl has died.’