Julian: A Dark Angel Series Companion Novella (Dark Angel #3) (6 page)

“I read an article about it once. It affects like 1 in 5 American couples,” I inform him.

“YES!
So you know, right?”

Friday night at a beach party with sexy ladies in bikinis all around me and I’m talking to a guy about secondary infertility. Life fucking blows right now.
Why hasn’t that conga line come to save me yet?

I strain my eyes, trying to focus. “Just give her time to come around to the idea that maybe you do need medical intervention.”

He chuckles loudly. “Have you met my wife? She is as stubborn as two mules. Look, I’ll be honest with you, dude. It’s gotten to the point that she wants to fuck all the time, and for the first time in my life, it’s not fun. I know she wants to do it just to have a baby, but I never thought I would say this to anyone…
I feel used.
Like she only wants me for my body.”

Okay, so I want to spit out my drink and burst out laughing. This was Rocky, after all. However, his crestfallen look tells me it’s far more serious and no joking matter.

“Rocky. You’ll get through this. You need to communicate with each other. The families that were interviewed in that article said it was tearing their marriages apart. I can only imagine the stress it can add when, in theory, trying for a baby is supposed to be your happiest time. You’re both very young, and I’m sure if you take a breather from it, it’ll work out.”

Who the fuck was I right now? From stalker to counsellor?

Where are my drinks?!

Rocky lets out a huge belch and some ladies near us yell, “Gross” and walk away. God, this was not helping me score at all. I was going home alone. Alone and drunk as a skunk.

“See how pathetic I am? I’m here on a Friday night. The chick with the huge rack bounced her coconuts past me and did I even salute her Rocky style?” He shakes his head, disappointed in himself.

“Maybe you should head home, you know, be with your wife.”

How much I envied what he had.

“I would, but she and Charlie went out somewhere to watch a show or something.”

And there is that name again…

Rocky must have noticed my body language. “Oh, dude, sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” I play it off.

“For bringing up Charlie. Don’t know if I should have but you’re probably over her, right? I mean you must be screwing babes like there’s no tomorrow.”

I smirk as I bring the bottle up to my lips and take a sip of my beer, which I had grabbed from the tray beside me.

“I know that look. Tell me! I need to live vicariously through someone else. Lex is boring as hell when it comes to talking about his past. Eric, well…forget that. I don’t need a re-enactment of sucking dick.”

Ahh, the blissful memories of last night. “Not much to tell. Last night was the first time in a while. They were sexy…”

He cuts me off and raises his voice.
“THEY?”
His eyes are practically bulging out of their sockets.

I don’t respond. Instead, I remain quiet. I wasn’t one to talk openly about my sex life.

“Dude, fuck, did they eat each other out? Fuck, no wait, did they finger each other’s asses?”

I almost spit out my drink, because they did, I just didn’t think he would ask that.

“Let’s just say, whatever your imagination thinks, it was done.” Fuck, I was a cocky muthafucker when I was wasted.

He lets out the loudest “fuck” I have ever heard and then mentions something about needing to find his wife or a bathroom pronto. Either one, he vanishes and I am left alone once again.

It’s not for long, though. The conga line finds me and the night becomes one massive blur.

“
What the hell is this?”

I stare at the drink that Tristan hands me. The color is dark green, the texture thick with something floating near the brim. I feel the bile rise in my throat and I struggle to swallow, wrestling with the vomit that is fast bubbling to the surface. I push the glass away but his strength overpowers me. I am weak.

Fucking Eric and that fucking conga line!

He pushes it back my way. “Drink it. I promise you won’t have a hangover if you drink this.”

I am short fused, my head is pounding like a jackhammer, and I want nothing more than to feel the coolness of the bathroom tiles caress my face. Oh, and pour that rancid-looking drink all over Tristan’s head.

“Kid, fuck off. I’m not drinking that.”

He continues to stand over me and doesn’t let up.
For fucken fuck’s sakes
. I grab the stupid drink off him and down it in one go.

Oh mother of fucking…

I run for the bathroom, certain the contents of my stomach will soon be saying hi-de-ho to the toilet bowl. I wait…but as minutes pass, the feeling subsides, the headache eases.

“
What the hell was in that?”

“It’s best you don’t know. You feel better though, don’t you?” He appears pleased with himself.

I nod, then motion for him to get the fuck out of the bathroom, and take the longest shower in the history of mankind.

The magical drink gets me out of bed and in the mood to write. Tristan goes out with Claudia, leaving me with the peace and quiet that I so desperately need to finish my manuscript. Mr. Grimmer sent me an email wanting to see an update, so I was hauling major ass trying to get it done. I’d had tighter deadlines than this before, to the point where I didn’t eat or sleep for seventy hours straight in the middle of a third-world country just so I could get a small section printed in the newspaper. It was part of the journalism game.

But this wasn’t the journalism game; this was my heart and soul turned into words and poured into this manuscript. It was a dream, my ambition, my future all riding on this publishing deal.

Come Monday, I was a ball of nerves again.

Sitting in my office, I’m finishing off a piece I’m doing for the newspaper when Nyree calls.

I switch on my suave voice. “Good morning, Nyree.”

“Hi, Mr…I mean Julian. I have a call for you on line two. A Mr. Grimmer.” Her voice is sweet, and I know I shouldn’t go there. So I don’t,
for now
.

Picking up line two, I take a deep breath and prepare myself for the worst.

“Mr. Baker, I hope I’m not interrupting anything important?” he politely asks.

“Not at all, Mr. Grimmer. I trust you received my email?”

There is a pause. I knew it—who was I fucking kidding?

“I’ll be frank. The quality of your work is mediocre. It lacks that certain element, that magic.”

I rub my face with my free hand.
It fucking lacked being on coke
.
Is that what I need to follow my dream? A sweet line to seal the deal?

“Listen, son. Often we find a muse. Whatever it may be, there is something, someone accompanying you on this journey. Find it again, and the writing will just flow. You understand what I’m saying?”

I nod, remembering he can’t see me. “I understand.”

He asked to see an update in two weeks. Until then, I had no choice.

No choice whatsoever.

…

The road is dark and windy, even the moon seems obscured behind the night clouds. Like every other time I’ve gone up this road, I do so cautiously. Eyes focused, mind fractured with emotions.

This time the emotion is
guilt.

I grip the steering wheel, wanting so desperately to close my eyes for a moment, but my focus needs to remain on the road.             

I hear his words echo in my head.

The voice telling me to leave her alone.

The threat to end my life should I dare go near her
.

I want to conquer this battle; all I have to do is turn around and head back home.

Home. Not to my dealer.

Weak. Pathetic. Worthless
. The words scream at me.

I am a coward.

I slam my foot on the brake, forcing the car to a halt. I sit still, heart pumping as the engine continues to tick over. It’s a desperate bid to save myself from the misery and disgrace that has once again come over me.

With my last attempt to redeem myself, I slam my foot on the gas, turn the car around and head in the opposite direction.

I did it.
I won the battle…
this time.

As I take a sharp turn round the bend, I notice the skid marks on the road followed by the smell of burnt rubber in the air. My eyes dart to a faint light that flickers by the tree down the hill. There are no other houses on this stretch of the road, and something tells me someone is down there. I pull the car to the side of the road, grabbing my cell before quickly hopping out and running down the hill towards the light. In the darkness I stumble on sticks and stones and hear the sounds of animals lurking around me. Fuck, it scares the living daylights out of me, until my heart stops in a panic, my legs beginning to shake and my throat runs dry.

My brain scrambles to make sense of what I see in front of me.

The license plate.

Charlie!

The adrenalin is pumping through my veins as the cries for help draw nearer. I run so fast that my chest is burning and I am out of breath. With time not on my side, I quickly examine the car and see that the door is wedged in. There is no chance I can pull it open. The window is slightly ajar, and I see her head resting against the shattered glass.

“Help me…help me please.”
Her voice is weak, barely recognizable.

“Charlie?! Charlie?! It’s me! Julian!” I crouch down to her level, close enough to see the blood trickling down her forehead. I try my hardest to disguise the look of terror on my face, not wanting to frighten her.

“Julian,”
she whimpers.

I scramble to the back of the SUV and climb in till I’m sitting beside her in the passenger’s seat. Without even thinking, I grab her hand to feel her pulse, trying to remember my first aid training. Placing the pad of my two fingers on her wrist, I press lightly and begin counting the beats per minute. Doing my mental calculations, I try to determine the strength in her heartbeat.

Her pulse is faint.

First rule, remain calm.
How?
How could I remain fucking calm when the woman I loved, the women who was supposed to be my future is lying in this wreckage, her pulse barely detectable, on the brink of possibly dying in my arms? Not to mention, she is heavily pregnant with a child!

FUCK!
The baby!

I pull out my cell; it has one bar of reception. With shaky hands, I dial 9-1-1.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“
I need an ambulance. I found a woman crashed into a tree.”
The panic is evident in my voice. I reach out to hold Charlie’s hand. Her eyes are wide and they look back at me in horror. She squeezes her eyes tight, letting out a startling scream. Her lips are quivering and she mentions the word ‘baby’. Immediately, I look towards her legs and see blood stains along her thighs.

The phone starts to crackle. “Sir? Sir? Can you hear me?” The cell beeps, ending the call.

“Shit! Charlie, where is your cell?”

“The battery died… Julian, my baby…it’s coming now.”

Charlie couldn’t lose this baby. She didn’t deserve this.
Remain calm, keep her talking. Anything till help arrives, but get her the fuck out of this car or we are both dead.

“Okay, just breathe. Charlie, I need to move you out of the car, okay? Can you move all your body parts?”

She winces, and after a few moments, she nods.

I explain to her what I’m about to do. I have to move her delicately as I’m not sure if anything is broken.
God, what if it was?
Don’t. Just don’t right now.

It’s difficult to maneuver her body, but somehow I manage to scoop her in my arms enough to move her out of the wreckage. I can feel the muscles in my back strain as I carry her out and walk as far away from the car as possible. The smell of gas saunters in the air; it’s a ticking time bomb ready to go off.

Just like Chelsea. Only this time, Charlie was out.

Half the battle won
.

Further up the hill, I place her down beside the tree on a small clearing. She takes deep breaths, visibly in pain. I reach for my cell again, but as I attempt to dial 9-1-1 for the second time, the screen goes blank. The enormity and realization of this situation paralyzes me for a moment; who is going to save us now? I look back at Charlie. There is no question, pray to the lord, she will be saved. Do what you can do to keep her alive. I had no medical training but I had to keep her conscious; it was a waiting game for someone to rescue us.

“Charlie, slow breaths. Can you tell me what happened?”

She nods again as she tries to control her breathing. “I had just dropped Amelia off at Lex’s parents’ house and as I was driving, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach and I lost control…
the baby is coming…help me please…I don’t want my baby to die
.” Tears cover her face; she gulps for air as the panic sets in again.

“Charlie, you won’t lose the baby. How many weeks are you?”

“
Only thirty-six…”

I try to wrack my brain and remember something I had read on premature labors. At thirty-six weeks the baby has a good chance of survival. The lungs…what about the lungs, brain? Fuck…oh yes, the lungs may be underdeveloped.

How is that helping right now?
There is no doubt about it; I am panicking at the thought of her losing the baby. Of losing Charlie.
This is not Chelsea…

I am fighting with everything I have to save her. “Okay, listen to me, we’ll get through this. Do you have a blanket in the car?”

“In the back…
don’t leave me, Julian! I’m so scared.”
She pulls my arm with the only strength she has left.

“
Shh
…I’ll quickly go get it.” In record speed, I run down the hill to fetch the blanket, knowing there is a chance the car could explode at any moment. I spot the blanket lying on the backseat. With the doors unable to open, I grab the rock beside my foot and smash the glass. Reaching in, I feel the jagged glass pierce my skin, but it doesn’t stop me from pulling the blanket through. I see a bottle of water and fetch that as well. With contents in hand, I run as fast as humanly possible up the hill and back to Charlie.

I see the calm set in her eyes, until she clutches onto her stomach and screams in agony. The contractions are only two minutes apart.
Oh god.
Where the fuck is that miracle?! I’ve never believed in God after Chelsea was taken away, but if anyone can make a miracle happen right now, it has to be the lord almighty.

Moving her hair away from her head, I examine the cut just below her hairline. It’s not too deep, and shouldn’t be my biggest concern. It’s the baby now that needs saving.
I can’t do this!

“
I need Lex…I need my husband
…” she wails.

My heart aches as she calls his name, but she needs him and I need to get him here along with an ambulance—anything to save Charlie. “I’ll try to call him, Charlie.” I grab my cell and she whispers his number in short breaths.

The phone rings out. I try again. I try ten fucking times, until it picks up.

“Who the fuck is this and what the hell do you want?” he answers coldly.

“Charlie…she’s been in an accident…” The crackling overpowers the phone.

“
Charlie what?”
he yells.

“Charlie’s been in an accident!” The phone dies.

I need to reassure her; the stress isn’t helping the baby. The longer the baby stays inside, the better.

“Okay, listen to me, Charlie…you need to try to remain as calm as possible. 9-1-1 will track my cell, and I am sure Lex will, too. They will be here shortly. We need to keep your baby calm, okay?”

She nods, understanding it’s the only thing we can do right now. I can see her eyes close, the fatigue overpowering her.

“Talk to me, Charlie. Tell me about when Amelia was born. Tell me about some of your happiest memories.” I’m pulling out all the stops.

She needs to remain conscious. If she doesn’t get through this, neither will I. She nods again faintly. I hold her hand, trying to maintain contact with her so she won’t fall asleep.

“I was terrified when Amelia was born, because I had already lost a baby, Lex’s baby. I didn’t want to have to go through that again. Lex was calm…he was
so
calm. My grandmother came to me…she was there and told me everything was going to be okay. But she’s not here now, Julian. I don’t see her.”

Lex’s baby?
Okay, now is so not the time to delve into her history, but fuck me every which way; this now explains her ties with him.

“I see Chelsea a lot, too.”

My voice is quivering as I realize that this is it, this was going to lift the huge burden that weighed on my shoulders. My heart, soul, every ounce of my being is caught up in a tangled mess as that déjà vu feeling consumes me. The image of paramedics arriving, the body bag being wheeled in front of me. Her parents arriving to the scene and hearing their excruciating screams surround us as they fight with the police officers and beg to see their daughter.

“She was the girl I fell in love with that died. Sometimes I see her…she talks to me. She watches over me like an angel. Yet, in my darkest times, I don’t see her and I predict my death.” I wipe away the tear that escapes her eye. “I know you’re scared, Charlie, but just because you can’t see her doesn’t mean your life is over. Tell me something else; tell me about your happy place?”

It’s a textbook question; positive thoughts lead to a positive outcome.

“Lex is my happy place…Lex and Amelia. They are my family. They are my reason for living. Amelia started playgroup with my nephew Andy a few days ago. She loves the interaction with the kids so much. Lex was upset that she just walked away from us…not even a wave or a backward glance.” She lets out the smallest of laughs. “He is so good with her. I never doubted for a moment that he would be a good father, but to see with my own eyes how much he loves her? I could have a dozen more kids. I love him so much. I don’t want to leave him alone in this world…” She sobs, and there is no stopping her.

“Charlie, you won’t. We’ll get through this and before you know it, you’ll be back in his arms and back at home with your family.” I say the words and am shocked to the core that I mean them.

“
Julian…I’m sorry…”

“Shhh, Charlie. Think about your future. Think about your family.”

As I continue to talk, she lets out a terrified scream.
“The baby is coming…”

“
Charlie, look at me
,” I beg.

She looks my way; I see the sadness in her face. I want to erase it. I want to see her smile. I want to see that glow spread over her face.

I want her to make more happy memories.

I have to be honest; she needs to help me help her. “There is a chance you may have the baby, but I promise you I will do everything I can to help you, okay?”

She is breathing heavily and I can see she is writhing in pain. I open the bottle and hand it to her to drink. She takes small sips but lets out a loud cry as another contraction hits.

“
I need to…need to push…”
she stutters.

“Charlie, I know this is not how you imagined having this baby. But I need you to focus—”

My words are cut off as her scream echoes through the night, the wildlife terrified, flying the coop. I hold her hand, not knowing what the fuck I need to do.
Okay, remember when Josie was in the hospital? No, moron, you were in the waiting room and were only twelve years old! Fuck, honestly.

“Julian…I feel the head…”

Even in the cool night, the sweat is dripping off my forehead. I position myself between her; babies come out of vaginas, right? Where else do they come out of, moron? It’s not like I haven’t seen her before…oh my god shut up, head!

“Okay, Charlie. I’m ready if you need to push, okay? I have a blanket here. And squeeze my hand if you need to.”

She grabs my hand and squeezes so damn hard I feel my knuckles crack. She sucks in air, then lets out a loud wail followed by a tiny whimper. I look down and feel my eyes bulge out in disbelief.

Holy fuck, it’s a baby!

“Okay, Charlie, one more push. You can do this! I see the head!”

There is no warning; she grabs on tight again and this time I focus on the baby, trying to guide it out gently with my spare hand.

I can’t believe this.
I am speechless.

The baby is letting out ragged cries. Quickly I wrap it up as Charlie stares at it in awe. I see Charlie’s eyes flutter, causing that familiar panic to reappear.
The blood, the screaming
. The umbilical cord is still attached. I shake Charlie slightly to keep her conscious and hand her the baby.

“Look, Charlie…it’s your baby.” I smile.

“My baby…
” she mumbles.
“My baby is alive?”

“Yes, and it’s beautiful.”

Charlie is beaming. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

Gee idiot, you could have checked that
. I look beneath the blanket, a little confused by the cord. “It’s a baby girl…you have yourself a beautiful baby girl.”

She smiles, but I see the light fading. I continue to talk…ramble…whatever.

“Look, she has your brown hair and I think…I see a hint of green eyes. Just like Lex’s.”

The words come out of my mouth, surprising even myself. This child is a blessing. Even though it has his blood running through her veins, witnessing this moment, I am honored. Yet like a double-edged sword, I know everything I feel for Charlie does not measure up to the love they have for each other. These blessings create an everlasting bond that cannot, and should not be broken by selfish acts.

And in this moment, I realize my life, my actions, are one big selfish act.