J. Salsbury - Fighting to Forget

“Check it out, dude.” Jonah points to a sign in the distance.

It’s a pig’s face with devil horns that reads The Devil’s Hog. My stomach tightens. This has got to be it. We’re in the right place.

“I seriously love your wife, dude.” If it weren’t for her, I’d still be home feeling like shit and Gia would be on her own. Suffering.

“Take the next right at north Glengrove.” The GPS blares in the silence of the car.

I follow the directions until a rustic old ranch-style house comes into view. A row of motorcycles is parked out front. I grip the steering wheel and welcome the burn in my knuckles. Hatch may be on the run, but I’m looking forward to introducing a few of the bikers inside to my fist. “It’s go-time, boys.”

A series of fuck-yeahs and lets-do-this and we’re out of the car. The cold mountain temps do nothing to slow my feet from eating up the dirt drive until I’m at the door. I don’t see the guys, but I can feel their tension at my back.

I bring my fist to the door and pound out three knocks.

“You think they’re even up yet? It’s only eight a.m.,” Caleb says.

“Well let’s wake ’em up.” Blake pushes past me and kicks the door hard, once and then twice. “Wake up, biker bitches!” He steps back enough to slam the flat of his boot into the door.

It finally swings open. “What the fuck, asshole?” The long barrel of a shotgun is pointed at Blake’s forehead.

I shove him aside and stand in his place. “You’ve got something of ours. We’re here to pick her up.”

The biker narrows his sleep-puffed eyes. “You banging my shit down for a bitch?”

A growl erupts from my throat. “Call her that again and I’ll shove that shotgun up your ass.”

Jonah steps up, and the biker’s chin tilts up, eyes wide. A grin of satisfaction slides across my face in a snarl.

“You pigs?” He says, his gaze bouncing between us.

“Do I look like a fucking pig to you?” My muscles are coiled. I’m ready to bulldoze this guy, knowing that Gia’s back there somewhere. She has to be.

He studies my face from my lip ring to my eyebrow piercing. “So what? You’re after your ex old lady and you think she’s here?” He scratches his bearded cheek. “’Lotta chicks come and go; no guarantee the one you’re looking for is here. And if she is, no guarantee you’re gonna like what you see when you find her.”

“We’ll take our chances,” Blake says. “Step aside.”

“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you guys in here.” He moves a few paces toward us, stepping outside. “Who’re you looking for? I’ll see if I can drag her out. One thing we don’t need is bitch complications.”

My arm jerks to sucker punch this fuck, but Caleb holds me back.

“Her name’s Mac. Black hair, light skin.” Jonah crosses his arms at his chest as if he’s struggling to keep his hands off this guy’s neck too. “She hangs with Hatch.”

“Hatch ain’t here. He’s got an old lady, but it’s not the same girl. His bitch has red hair.”

A wave of fury slams through my veins. I push past the biker and into the farmhouse. An arm wraps around my throat. I twist free and shove. Biker down. I ignore the sound of the short-lived scuffle that goes on behind me, confident that the guys can hold back one biker.

I storm through what looks like the main living space to a hallway. Bedrooms. On fire to find her, I start at the first door. It’s locked. I rock back, slamming my heel into the door. The cheap wood splinters and pops open.

A big guy jumps out of bed. “What the fuck?” I scan the room and find two chicks huddled at the headboard. No red hair. He barely gets his pants up and charges me.

“Easy, fuckwad.” Blake’s there. He shoves the guy hard, sending him to the floor. He turns toward me. “I got this. Go get your girl.”

I move to the next door. Locked again. I kick, the door flies open. The guy sleeping in there doesn’t budge. I stalk up to his bed. He’s alone.

Next door. I jiggle the handle. “Gia! You in there?” I rock back and throw my weight behind a heel-slam that sends the door swinging. This room is darker than the others. The windows are covered. I blink and try to focus.

On the bed, covered from the waist down in a thin sheet, lies a woman with ghostly pale skin and fiery red hair.

“Gia!” I race to her; she’s not moving. Fuck, she looks dead.

My hands move to touch her but stop just shy of her perfect skin. Dried-up vomit is crusted to her mouth and the pillow. “Shit, Gia!”

I run my hand up her arm and rest it against her cheek. Her skin is clammy, but warm. Alive, but just barely. There’s nothing left. Her bones protrude from her joints, her cheeks sunken.

A small glass vial lies near her open hand. I snag it. Empty. She’s OD’ing.

“Call 911!”

God, please. Don’t let me be too late.

My throat swells with all I need to say, all I have to apologize for. “Baby, wake up.”

I scoop my hand beneath her neck and shoulders, pulling her into my lap. Her frail body, naked and vulnerable, lies limp in my arms. I hold her to my chest, burying my nose into her hair. The hint of tropical fruit and coconut fills my nose. “I did this. I’m so sorry, Gia.”

I rock her back and forth, whispering, praying, and pleading. “Don’t leave me. Please, baby, I can’t live without you.” Tears burn the backs of my eyes. “Don’t make me live another day without you.”

Caleb races into the room. “Dude, we gotta—whoa!” He turns his back and holds up a hand. “Sorry, bro. I didn’t know she’d be—”

“I’m not leaving.” I clear my throat. “She needs an ambulance.”

Jonah steps in to the room, his eyes darting back to the hallway. “Can’t stay here. We’ve woken the beast.”

He walks toward me, and I hug her to my body close. Like a feral animal, I’ll kill anyone who tries to take her from me.

“It’s all right, man. I won’t touch her.” He pulls up the sheet to cover her naked body. “We gotta bolt. Now.”

I do my best to secure the sheet around her and pick her up. She’s light. Too light. Guilt squeezes my chest.

I follow Jonah and Caleb away from the bedrooms and toward the sound of a fight. Blake’s in a face-to-face with a group of half-dressed, newly-woken bikers. They’re blocking the door. I’ve gotten her this far; it’ll take a damn army to keep me from leaving without her.

“We’ll take these guys.” Jonah motions toward the front door. “When you see your out, take it. Do not hesitate. We’ll meet you at the truck.”

I nod and kiss Gia’s head, hoping she knows she’s safe. I hate that she’s been living with these guys—the smell of liquor, BO, and cigarettes in every room—knowing I drove her to this.

I inch my way toward the door, and Jonah and the guys do their best to herd the half-dozen angry bikers to the other side of the room. I watch and wait, aware that the clock is ticking.

How long has she been like this? Even with medical attention, will she ever come out of it?

I nuzzle my nose into her hair. “Gia, if you can hear me, I’m never letting you go. Fight for me, baby. You hang on and you fight.”

A moan rumbles in her chest, so faint I feel it more than hear it.

“There it is, Gia. That’s right. Keep fighting, never stop swinging.”

The room detonates in a flurry of fists and grunts. A handful of bikers go fist to face with Blake, Jonah, and Caleb.

The door—a few long strides and I’m there. I look back. Two bikers hit the ground, and Jonah hits one more who drops hard.

They don’t need me. We’re out the door and to the SUV. I open the back and climb in with Gia.

In the light of day she’s worse off than I thought. Her lips are cracked and blue, the soft skin around her eyes now dark.

“Come on, come on, come on.” They need to speed this shit up. “Any minute now, hang in there, baby.”

The front door flies open, and the guys slow-jog to the car. We did it. We got her.

And now the hard part begins.

Rex

GPS on the rental guides us to the closest hospital. I’m grateful we don’t have to make the two-hour trek down to Denver. She’d probably die in my arms before we got there. I hug Gia’s frail body closer.

“St. Vincent Hospital.” Jonah pulls the SUV right up to the double doors marked “Emergency” in neon.

The tires screech to a halt, and Caleb pops open the door and hops out.

I arrange her sheet as best I can and carry her through the doors. “We need a doctor. Now.”

The middle-aged nurse at the desk pushes an intercom button. “Triage nurse to emergency, stat.” She rushes around the desk to a wheelchair. “Set her here. I’ll bring her back.

My hold on her tightens. “No. I go where she goes.” They’ll have to rip her from my arms if they think I’m ever letting her go.

“Sir.” The woman’s voice is stern. “We can’t help her unless you let her go.”

“I’ll take her back myself.”

“I’d advise you—”

“Advise all you want; he ain’t letting her go,” Caleb says from behind me.

She huffs and turns down the corridor. “Come on.”

I follow her to a single hospital bed that’s surrounded by sliding draped separators. There are other beds that from what I can tell at quick glance are empty. Good. More attention for her.

“Go ahead and lay her there.” She moves around the tiny space, grabbing medical shit.

I lay her on the bed, and my mind goes back to what Jonah said about Sadie. He wears her so even when she’s sleeping she can hear a heartbeat, feel the heat of her parents, and know that she’s safe. I sit on the bed and lie back, making sure to keep her cheek pressed against my chest. My heart is racing, thumping so hard that even blacked-out I know she can hear it. Feel it.

Two nurses rush in with a rolling table. They ignore me and go to work on Gia’s vitals.

“What happened tonight?” the nurse from the front desk asks.

“Drug overdose, I think, but I’m not sure. I found her like this about an hour ago.”

“Her name?”

I swallow hard. “Georgia McIntyre.”

“Date of birth?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

“Age?”

“Twenty-two, maybe twenty-three.” She could’ve had a birthday while she was living with Hatch in that shithole. I kiss her head. Will she ever forgive me?

“BP’s low.” The nurse inspects her hand. “Cyanosis. We need to intubate.” She rips open a sterile pack. “Sir, you can stay close, but if we don’t start breathing for her she could die.”

I kiss her head and roll her from my arms. She flops to her back, her bare breasts exposed. My chest cramps at how pale she looks. I cover her nakedness, and tears blur my vision.

They feed the tube down her throat. “We need blood work, stat.” The other nurse pulls out a vial and needles, and I shift so that they can get better access to her arm.

“Will she be okay?” Please, say she’ll be okay.

“She’s not getting enough oxygen. We don’t know how long she’s been like this, so only time will tell.” Her sympathetic eyes meet mine. “She’s in a coma.”

“A coma? When will she come out?” My voice cracks at the thought of my life without Gia in it.

“That’s up to her. We’ll help her breathe, give her medication to neutralize the drug, but that’s all we can do. After that, she’s got to fight.” The nurse pulls a tube of blood and starts to fill another. “She’s lucky you brought her in when you did. A few more hours like this . . .” She shakes her head.

I bring her tiny hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. I’m so sorry, Gia. This is all my fault.

~*~

“You know we don’t want to leave you here, man.” Jonah’s leaning against the wall of the small hospital room, looking as if he needs a good night’s sleep.

“Yeah, I know.” It’s bad enough riding the guilt of finding Gia in a heroin-induced coma. I won’t be responsible for taking Blake from his pregnant girl or Jonah from his wife and baby. “It’s fine, really. You guys should go.”

“How long you staying?”

“They said they’re going to evac her to Denver.”

She’s asleep, her face the picture of peace except for the hollowed-out features. And even still, she looks beautiful.

“I assume you’re stickin’ around until she wakes up?”