Avoiding Amy Jackson (34 page)

“On three… One…two…three.” We slide him over onto our ER gurney and I do my best to squelch the ache in my chest when I see his limp body lying right in front of me.

Deep breaths.

Deep breaths.

You have to get it together.

“I’ll take over chest compressions,” I tell the young paramedic standing next to me. I promptly take his role and bile rises in my throat when I have this little boy’s chest right underneath my hands.

Breathe. Just breathe. Stay focused.

Tony takes over ventilating his airway and a few more ER staff members arrive. They immediately start assisting us in continuing our rescue efforts.

I count my compressions out loud for the entire team to hear. I slowly feel myself starting to panic on the inside. I’m losing it. I hate this feeling. I’m always in control.
Always
. And right now, I’m far from it. I’m barely hanging on by a thread. My thoughts are scattered and my vision is starting to tunnel from my unsteady, fast breathing.

Fuck.

God dammit. Get it together.

This little boy needs you. He needs you focused.

Benny needed me… Benny needed me and I wasn’t there…

Adrenaline is coursing through my veins, and the pivotal fight or flight moment is now present. My body is urging me, pushing me to run. Run out of this room. Run away from this as fast as my feet can take me. I can’t handle it. I can’t face the past, and right now, my brain, my subconscious, and my entire god damn body are aggressively pushing me quickly towards the brink of losing control over everything I’ve tried so hard to avoid.

Ringing has now taken over my hearing capacity and I can’t hear anything around me. My peripheral vision is nonexistent. I’m stuck in a dark, terrifying tunnel with no escape. I know the only thing I can do now is get someone else to take over my role so I can get out of the room. I am no good to this little boy. My inability to hold it together is only placing his life more at risk if I continue to try to assist in rescuing him.

“S-someone t-take over for me,” I hoarsely whisper out.

“I got you. Let me take over,” Ellen murmurs in my ear and slides my hands away from his chest, promptly taking over chest compressions.

I’m frozen next to her. My eyes are wide with fear, with shock, and my mind is filled with memories. Memories of my little brother Benny.

“Go.” Ellen is looking at me with a serious expression on her face. “Go! Get the fuck out of here!” she says sternly, loud enough for only me to hear. She knows what’s happening. She knows what happened to Benny, and the look on her face says that she knows I’m losing it.

I turn on my heels and run out of bed eight, rushing past the nurses’ station, and out of the emergency room. I race into the ladies’ locker room, straight into the bathroom, and lock myself in a stall. My breathing is shallow and quick; my head swims with lightheadedness. My back slides down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor with my head between my knees. The dam finally bursts. Tears course down my cheeks and I can’t hold it in anymore. I can’t keep it in. I’ve lost control of this one thing I’ve continued to push away. The one thing I’ve refused to face. The guilt and the anxiety and the undeniable sadness are pouring out of me with each salty tear that slides down my face.

With each shaky breath and gasping sob, I no longer have control…

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Vulnerable and Exposed.” - Amy

The bathroom door slides open and light from the hallway filters into the bathroom stall. Shadows hover over my feet, which are firmly frozen to the ground.

“She’s in here. I got her, James.”

“Ellen, let me do this. Let me help her.”

A quiet moment takes over the bathroom and faint whispers wash over the room. I can’t make out what is being said. It doesn’t matter though. Nothing matters right now. I’ve completely lost it and I’m not sure how I’m ever going to find my way back.

The door to the bathroom stall shakes firmly and then I see James’s shoes peek underneath.

“Amy. Open the door. Let me in,” he demands tenderly gently.

“I…I…c-can’t.” My voice is thick with grief, and tears still spill down my cheeks. I’ve been crying. I’m still crying. I can’t stop fucking crying.
Why can’t I stop crying?

“C’mon, sweetheart. Just open the door.”

“N-no,” I hoarsely squeak out. “Just go… Just go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere. If you’re not going to open this door, I’m going to find another way in.”

Silence consumes the bathroom. My mind is weak, my body emotionally spent, and I just don’t have an iota of energy to throw my normally sarcastic, bitchy jabs his way. I don’t even have the energy to stand up. I’m spent, nearly lifeless from all-consuming grief that’s taken over me. The grief and sadness that’s built up for over fourteen years. The emotions that have threatened me for years and I’ve just obstinately refused to face.

Coward.

I’m a fucking coward.

A selfish, worthless coward.

“All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” James announces before I see him squat down in front of the stall door and then slowly slide his large body underneath. He’s literally crawling on this disgusting bathroom floor because he refuses to leave me alone. He refuses to leave me here by myself to fight this losing battle of guilt. My eyes close reluctantly, pushing more tears out. More saddening liquid emotions course down my face.

A loud bang on the door startles me and I quickly open my eyes. James is now seated in front of me, and he rubs his head with a grimace. His eyes squint and his jaw clenches. “Fuck, that hurt.”

Normally, I would laugh in this situation, but I just…
can’t
. I can’t laugh or smile or even attempt hiding the remorse, the sorrow that has taken over. I’m suffocating. I wish I could turn back time and change everything. Fix everything.

Why couldn’t I have been there? Why didn’t I watch him more closely?

Because you’re selfish.

You were a selfish fifteen-year-old girl who only cared about herself.

I’m still selfish. Living my life, enjoying moments with my friends, finding happiness throughout my day—happiness I don’t deserve. I don’t deserve any of it. Benny should be living my life. Benny should be here.

James slides himself next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulder. My body startles at his touch. “I got you. I got you. I’m here.” His words open a Pandora’s box of emotions, and I find myself grasping his stiff scrub top in my hands and burying my face in his chest. I sob with every last ounce of energy I have left. He draws me closer to his large, warm body, embracing me, holding me, comforting me. The sobs and the gasps and the never-ending tears feel endless. He rubs gentle circles on my back and strengthens his grip.

I wish he could just take this all away…

“Take it away, James. Please take it all away.” My voice cracks with heartache.

“Let me take you home. Let’s go home, sweetheart.” His voice is muffled in my hair, his warm breath pressing against my neck.

“I can’t move. I just…can’t even move.” I grip his shirt tighter, clenching the material between my fists.

James pulls himself away from my embrace. Warm, strong hands grip underneath my thighs and around my back. He lifts me off the ground and cradles my pathetically weak body to his chest. “I got you.”

He strides out of the bathroom stall, through the bathroom door, and into the hospital hallway. I don’t even have the energy to open my eyes when I feel the bright, fluorescent lights shining down on us. The sound of his shoes echo inside my brain. The normal energy and rush of the morning hospital crowd fills the air. I should be embarrassed or concerned about people seeing me in James’s arms. Seeing the sadness and tears plastered on my face, but it doesn’t matter.

Nothing matters.

****

James smoothly places me inside of his SUV, buckles my seatbelt, and leans the passenger’s chair back so I can lie down. “Just rest, sweetheart,” he says before getting into the driver’s seat and heading towards my apartment. The combination of being up all night at work and the emotional toll this morning’s events has taken on me cause me to fall asleep before we even leave the hospital parking lot. I don’t remember him getting me out of the car, carrying me into my apartment, or even laying me down in my bed…

****

I slowly open my eyes; the remnants of tears cause my lashes to stick together. I can feel James’s warm hands around my waist, his chest pressed up against my back. I adjust my body so that I’m lying on my back and my eyes lock with his. My apartment is completely silent and I can see the clock on my nightstand. Eleven a.m. I’ve been asleep for over three hours.

“You’re still here.” My voice is gruff with sleep and exhaustion.

“I’m still here.” James’s eyes look deep into mine. His gaze is unrelenting and all-consuming as he keeps my eyes locked with his.

“I really need to thank you. Thank you for taking care of me when I was a weak, pathetic shell of a person.” My lips involuntarily slip into a frown. My subconscious is still running my emotions.

“I’m always here for you, Amy.
Always
.” He brings his hand up to lightly touch my cheek, giving off an unfamiliar feeling of comfort and
love
. My body trembles slightly.

“You’re a good friend. The best.” I force a tight smile across my lips.

James runs his finger across my bottom lip, spurring another rush of emotions to cloud my head. “I was worried about you, sweetheart. So fucking worried about you. Ellen saw me near the physician’s lounge when she was on her way to find you and I could tell she was panicked. She told me what happened and I more than willingly dropped everything.” He kisses my forehead with enough tenderness to wrench my heart right out of my chest.

“You didn’t have to do that. I know you had a slew of patients to see today. I’m sorry I fucked up your day. Don’t feel like you have to sit here and babysit my pitiful ass. I’ll be okay.”

“There’s a difference between having to do something and wanting to do something. I
wanted
to be there for you, I
want
to be here for you, and I’m not going to let anything stop me from doing so.” His lips lightly brush my forehead again, and I find myself scooting closer to him, letting him embrace me tighter.

“I don’t deserve you.” A sob threatens to escape my throat.

“I never want to hear your mouth spout bullshit like that ever again. You hear me?” James’s voice is stern and laced with a hint of anger.

“Did Ellen tell you? Did she tell you everything?” My voice stutters.

“No. She just told me what I needed to know so I had an inkling of understanding about the state we were going to find you in.”

I inhale deeply.

My emotions are mixed up, a convoluted clusterfuck of relief and disappointment. I’m relieved that Ellen stayed true to me, yet disappointed that James doesn’t really know the truth. That he doesn’t get to know that part of me. A part of myself I hide from everyone, including myself.

“Amy, you can tell me anything—anything at all. I care about you more than you probably even realize, sweetheart.” His fingers rub soft circles along my lower back.

“You care about me?”

“Of course I care about you. I lo…” He pauses mid-sentences and takes a deep breath. “I care about you so much it nearly chokes me to death. I wish you could understand. I wish you would allow yourself to understand instead of just constantly avoiding it.”

I lightly smack his chest, desperately trying to make light of this conversation. “Shut up, idiot. Now you’re talking crazy. I get that you still have the urge to get me naked, but let’s not start getting all emotional and talking feelings and caring.”

James’s body tenses immediately. His back is ramrod straight and every single one of his muscles is stiff.

Silence.

James sighs noisily; frustration and anger exude from his pores.

“Fuck, Amy. When are you going to open your eyes and realize that me wanting to be close to you, be friends with you, hang out with you, has nothing to do with wanting to fuck you? I just want
you
. All of you. Every single part.
I just want you
.”

I peek up at him through wet lashes. His eyes are closed tightly, mouth grim, his forehead creased in frustration. I slide my palm up to his face and he leans into my touch as I caress his warm, soft cheek that has a hint of stubble. My breath hitches when I feel his hand grip my waist, and a soft moan escapes my throat when he pulls me flush against him. Against his body. His strong, masculine body that is thick with corded muscles. Muscles that are clearly defined, hard with contoured edges that can be felt through his clothing.

His eyes open and sink into my skin. Searing me with every blink, every look, and each time they glance over my body, I feel a shiver run down my spine and settle inside of my core.

God, I want him. I want him so fucking bad, but I don’t deserve him.

“I don’t deserve for someone like you to care about me, James. I’m toxic. Every inch of me is covered in flaws. My selfishness is destructive. I’ll hurt you.
I’ll destroy you,”
I whisper into the quietness of the room, the last words that escape my lips leaving a painful ache deep inside of my chest. I’m vulnerable, so very vulnerable. I’m voicing things that I’ve kept locked up for so long—
too long
. Things I’ve refused to face. The death of my brother has left so much grief; so many self-deprecating thoughts have remained inside of me.

His green eyes sear me. It’s like they are reaching inside of me and gripping my heart, gripping my soul.

“I don’t care if you cure me or kill me, baby. You are worth every moment of my time. You are worth everything.” He takes a deep, cavernous breath. Our eyes are locked, so connected in this moment. It’s like we’re the same being. His lungs are my lungs. My heart is his heart. “Your only flaw is that you’re flawless. In my eyes, you’re flawless.”