Marry Screw Kill(2)

“Mom?” I ask in a whisper. Tony and my mother whip their heads in my direction. Tony’s face is bloated with anger, but mom is frozen in terror.

“Well, hello, Harlow,” Tony greets with a devilish smile, his black as coal eyes bugged-out and crazed. All the blood leaves my face. He has gone insane. “Your mother’s sleeping around on me with some man who wants her to better herself.”

“Tony, that’s not true. He’s just helping me pay for nursing school. Please leave Harlow out of this.” Behind Tony, my mother jerks her head, signaling for me to get out of here. But there’s no way in hell I’m leaving her alone with this drunk lunatic.

“I’ve got a right to know who you’re f*cking, Marie.” Tony points the gun at my mother’s head.

Holy shit.

“Please, Tony. Put the gun down,” I plead in a forced whisper, raising my hands as I inch closer. When he turns my way, his steely black eyes hit me with a force that makes me flinch. He’s resolved, and I need help. “I’m going to call the police.”

“It’s too late.” His words are final. He’s past the point of reason.

I launch forward and grab Tony’s arm. As I make contact with him, an ear-piercing explosion echoes painfully throughout the room.

The sound. Oh my God, my mom.

My mother’s eyes widen as a shocked grimace flashes over her face. In that instant, I know she’s been hit. My desperate attempt to stop Tony failed to save her. She sways and collapses to the ground. I push past Tony, gather her up in my arms, and cradle her on the floor.

“Mom, I’m so sorry.” Tears stream down my face. I watch in horror as the light in her eyes begins to fade.

“Harlow,” she says in a raspy whisper. Her lids flutter as she struggles to stay conscious.

“No!” I shout. My mother’s eyes close and remain still, her once rosy cheeks transforming to pale white. “Don’t leave me.”

I gently shake her and glance down to where our bodies touch. My crisp white blouse is stained crimson, heavy with her blood.

“Fuck! What did I do?” Tony cries out beside me. He paces back and forth, pushing his hand through his greasy hair, repeating the question over and over. I continue to rock my mother, begging God to bring her back to me.

Please, God. Please.

A rapid clicking of metal against metal precedes another ear-splitting sound. I draw my mother closer as the wall next to me turns a splattered red and a heavy thud hits the floor behind me. Tony’s lifeless body lays slumped on the brown carpet.

A scream tries to force itself from my lungs, but the world around me spins from ruby red to black instead.

***

A steady ticking beat of a machine rouses me from my sleep. I’m lying flat on something soft, cocooned in warmth. An unknown brightness tries to squeeze through my closed eyes. I focus hard to open them, but they won’t fully cooperate. They feel like they weigh a thousand pounds.

“Doctor, the sedative is wearing off. Her eyelids are moving,” a woman announces in a rush. She seems near enough to touch, if I could only move my arms.

Where am I?

I tighten my face into a scowl and summon my eyes to open. Still no luck. The tapping of shoes on a tile floor moves closer toward me.

“Good. Let me talk to her,” a man says in a soothing voice, then someone wraps their hand around mine. It’s large, warm, and strong—a man’s hand.

“Harlow,” a man utters my name in a gentle melody. He sounds so close. He has to be the person holding my hand. Somehow, he knows my name.

Concentrating all my strength, I finally pry my eyes open and see a handsome man dressed in a white coat standing over me. His eyes are a bright blue, kind, and he smiles down at me like everything in the world is fine.

I scan my surroundings as he continues to hold my hand. I’m lying in a hospital bed, with tubes running and wires connected to me. What the hell is going on? How did I get here?

The dreamy haze lifts and the memories are there, right in front of me, like a movie playing in my mind.

My mother. The gun.

I look at my shirt to see if it’s still red, but I’m wearing a clean, blue hospital gown.

“My mom,” I yell, trying to sit up. My heart races as panic sets in. “Where’s my mother?”

The man squeezes my hand tighter, his brows creasing. He glances at the nurse and nods.

“I want my mother,” I demand as he appraises me with sad eyes that hold the truth—a truth I don’t want to hear.

“I’m here to help you, Harlow. My name is Dr. James Elliott. You can call me James.”

The nurse hurries over and injects something into my IV. A warm tingle trails up my arm as a weird calm and numbness overtakes me.

Did she die? Or was it all a bad dream?

“I promise everything will be okay. I don’t want you to worry about a thing right now. Know that you’re safe with me.”

His voice tunnels through my brain as I lie back on the bed. The desire to fight and flee leaves me, but not the crushing pain in my chest.

“Is she alive?” He glances away for a split second, and I know the answer is my biggest nightmare.

She’s gone.

“Do you have anyone I can call, Harlow? Someone in your family maybe?”

I gaze into the caring blue eyes of a man I’ve never met before and realize the horrifying truth.