All familiar characters belong to Janet. Any mistakes made, and opinions given, are entirely mine. If you feel at all like Lylo please don't be afraid to ask someone or someplace for help.
"I want to die."
"Excuse me?" I had to ask.
This had been the perfect capture up until that statement. I'd knocked on Lylo Ives' door and she opened it and let me inside even after I said who I was and why I was here. She even offered me coffee or a bottle of water once I was standing inside the shithole apartment she'd recently moved into. I should've remembered that nothing is ever that easy for me.
"You heard me the first time. I. Want. To. Die. You have no fucking idea how free I feel saying that out loud."
I did a quick body scan on her to look for any evidence that she's already done something to cause death to come quicker than expected. My breath got stuck in my lungs when I saw crossed Band-Aids over her wrist, still dripping too much blood. My lungs restarted when I realized a beat later that it was just a too-freakin' realistic tattoo. A cry for help on a more artistic scale, not a real-life emergency … yet.
"Well, I'm glad you're feeling good about it, because I sure as hell don't," I told my skip. "Now I have to make sure you don't do anything stupid."
"No, you don't. You can just forget you saw me and continue on with your day. You don't need to worry about me."
"Yeah, sure. That's why you just admitted that you're tired of living? Seems like I have a lot to worry about right now."
"That's the point I'm trying to make! You don't. What I choose to do is on me, no one else."
"I'm afraid that doesn't work for me. I'm known for butting into everything I'm supposed to steer clear of, so guess what? You've just earned yourself a shadow."
"No."
"Sorry. Like you just said … you don't get a say in what I do. I'm solely responsible for how I spend my time. And what I'm going to do is help you whether or not you want me to run interference."
"I don't. This isn't a spur of the moment feeling. It's actually a long time coming. I mean, way back when I was thirteen or so, I found out that my old neighbor died. And do you know what I did? I didn't cry or say anything to anyone about it, I just went outside and sat my ass in the grass, overcome by jealousy that life was over for her, yet I was still stuck being alive."
"You can't be serious?" I blurted out.
"I am. It happened in October, one of those Fall days with bright blue skies and yellow leaves that look even brighter with the sun highlighting them through the branches in the trees. And I was fucking miserable! I wanted to switch places with her so bad, I was fighting full-snot sobs. I even remember thinking it was the perfect time of the year for a funeral … but mine, not hers. I pictured the cemetery being a nature photographer's dream."
"Well, it's cloudy and cold today … so it's a pretty crappy day to die."
"Says you. I'm okay with the weather conditions. It's fitting in a different way."
"Can you tell me why?"
"Yeah, but I doubt you'll understand it."
"Try me."
"Do I have a choice?"
"Nope," I told her, crossing my arms and parking my butt in one of her mismatched kitchen chairs.
Her eye roll rivaled Mary Alice's, Mary Lou's, and mine combined. "Everything I do now is to prevent a specific feeling, because of a knee-jerk reaction to somebody, or to feel some semblance of control over something. I'm not happy and I'm not actually living … and I don't want to do it anymore."
I heard enough. "Come over here."
"Why? If you'd just go away, I'll no longer be your, or Jersey's, problem. You won't need to arrest me, and taxpayers won't have to foot the bill for my holding cell-time and court appearance."
"I'm glad you're concerned about other people's pocketbooks, but I'm afraid I'm not going away. Instead, I'm going to give you a few examples of why you should stick around."
"Save it. I'm not interested."
"Tough. If you've already made up your mind to die, you can put it off for a few minutes and let me try to change your mind."
"You can't."
"Humor me. Get your butt over here and sit the fuck down."
I'm actually a little surprised that she did as I asked. I was determined to help her, but that didn't mean she'd let me. She sat down with me at the hardwood door currently acting as her kitchen table.
"What?"
"I just wanted to give you a little photo tour of my life," I told her. "I hope to inspire you, like these guys have all changed me."
"These guys?"
"Yep." I dug out my cell and pulled up a picture of Ranger. "This is my … I guess I have to say boyfriend, but that doesn't really describe who - and what - Ranger is to me. Anyway, the sunglasses are because my cell will self-destruct if his image is captured in its totally-hot entirety."
"You're shitting me?"
"Partly, but there is a little truth to it, too. He was/still is an Army Ranger. He's been sent to hell too many times and has come back every single one of them … minus some of his buddies and all of his innocence. He was even held captive and tortured once so no one else would be tracked down and receive the same treatment. And do you know what he's done with his life?"
"I'm guessing it's not spending hours everyday debating the best ways to end it?"
"Unfortunately, he's admitted to me that he has had periods of time where he felt that was the only option for him and also what would be best for his family, but he didn't give into those thoughts. In a desperate attempt to survive being home, he started a company to change people's lives by hiring men just like him in order to protect them. He doesn't have a lot of time to really dwell on how horrible his memories are, he's too busy trying to prevent the same despair that he's had to battle from forming in the minds of others."
"Gosh darn it. And here I am fresh out of millions to start a rescue program," Lylo said, her sarcasm as evident as how fervently she believes I'm wasting my time here.
"Stop being a wise-ass and start paying attention."
"Hey, I didn't ask you to come here or to hang around. Looks like your paycheck is gonna cost you today."
"You're not just a paycheck. And you're right ... you didn't ask me to show up beyond not showing up for court. That's what brings bounty hunters to your door in case you forgot. But I'm considering this visit a public service," I told her. "If I can turn you around, Trenton residents won't have to worry about an inebriated window-smasher wandering their neighborhoods at night."
She snorted. "The city of Trenton is safe from little 'ol me. I wouldn't have broken anything if it hadn't been my mother's house. And she wouldn't have called the cops if it hadn't been me destroying her window."
"Wow. I thought my mother was bad."
"If you want a different one, you can have mine. I'm done with her. If I hadn't been loaded and determined to get back the few items my grandfather left me in his will, which she was holding hostage, the arrest wouldn't have happened. But she got her way again. I now have a criminal record that'll follow me forever thanks to her being an evil, spiteful bitch."
"You know, it's really sad that you're the one contemplating suicide while she's probably out celebrating somewhere. My mom never got me arrested, but for a little insight into how much she 'loves' me ... she was equally thrilled and horrified by my divorce. I got to fail publicly and spectacularly at something, but it was also a big no-no to have a divorced daughter. She never lets me forget either point."
Her tiny nose crinkled in disgust. She can see that we're on separate sides of the same problem.
"You'll probably never believe it," I told her, "but I'm on your side here. So onto picture number two. This is Tank, my guy's best friend. He's been shot at with everything from assault rifles to rocket launchers, and he wakes up every day ready to fight for himself and those he cares about. I'm lucky enough to be one of the people he considers family. He's shown up even on his days off if he finds out that I could be in danger."
"Gee, how fucking nice for you. Some of us have no one to count on or protect us. I'm not sure what you're hoping to accomplish here, but you're actually making me feel worse … not better. You have a solid support system despite who your parent is, I only have myself to rely on. And honestly … I'm so fucking tired of me."
"I didn't always have a support system. It was hard won, with me making a ton of mistakes along the way. You're a bit pessimistic, but other than that … you're pretty cool. I don't know who else besides your egg donor made you feel like you aren't, but let me tell you that they were dead wrong. We're all a little fucked-up, but that just makes us more interesting … not bad or unworthy of being loved or alive. You deserve a chance to be happy, and I'm going to help you get there."
"What's the point? I didn't have a great start in life, it shouldn't end any differently."
"That's where you're wrong. Once you start surrounding yourself with better people, you'll start seeing possibilities rather than just more problems."
"Let me guess, your 'real job' is thinking up bullshit bumper stickers, isn't it?"
"No. I am a bond enforcement agent, just a part-time life coach. You're screwed either way. Everyone who knows me will tell you that I'm two things … I'm overly-interested in everybody and I'm stubborn as hell."
"Lucky me."
"Yup, lucky you. I'm invested now, so there's no going back. You need to find a purpose that's stronger - and way louder - than the voice you're currently hearing up here," I said, gently tapping my knuckles against the side of her head. "So that's what we're going to do. Hold on while I make a quick call." I dug out my cell and sent out the Bat Signal.
My stomach still clenches in anticipation of hearing Ranger's voice. My chest does something similar every time he answers on the first ring, like he can't wait to talk to me too.
"Hey, Babe."
"Hey, back. Do you think you can meet me at the station in about ten minutes?"
His whole demeanor immediately changed. I could feel it through the line. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'd just like to right a wrong before any more damage is done. So I was hoping you could also convince Nichols to tag along with you."
If there's an attorney who could get Lylo's charges dropped, it's Caddem Nichols.
"You have to stop collecting strays, Steph."
"No I don't," I answered. "And to paraphrase what my skip said a few minutes ago, I don't have millions to drop so I can form a full-scale rescue mission. I have to stick to taking it one FTA at a time. Oh and maybe Lester could join you guys too. I have someone here who could really use a laugh."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" He asked me.
It's a fair question. I usually try to keep all females I like away from Lester, but I know Lylo will be able to hold her own against him. She may even enjoy the process.
"Yeah. She's dealt with a lot worse," I assured him.
"Alright. We'll all be leaving in two minutes."
I didn't know I was holding my breath until I heard it whoosh out when Ranger agreed to help us.
"Thank you."
"It's never a problem, Babe."
"Did I tell you that I love you today?" I asked, dropping my voice so maybe I wouldn't be overheard.
"You did. But I take it more seriously when you're not naked or eating doughnuts at the time you say it."
My face hurt from the smile he just caused. A naked Ranger, or a freshly-made Boston Cream doughnut, do have me professing and promising all kinds of things.
"I mean the words any time I say them," I reminded him.
"I know and I love you even more. I'll see you in ten," he said and disconnected.
I turned back to Lylo who was suddenly more interested in my call than in offing herself. "Who's this Nichol-guy? And why did you say to bring that Lester dude? I don't want to go and get locked up again, and I for damn sure am not in the mood for a fucking cocktail party."
"Yeah, I kinda picked up on that. That's why I wanted Ranger to ask Caddem Nichols to represent you. He'll have even the judge blaming your mother for your arrest so fast, I doubt you'll see much more than the TPD's 'welcome desk' this time around. And Lester is our office clown. It's hard to take him, or anything he says, seriously unless you're in the middle of being kidnapped or shot at, but he's the guy you want around when you're having a bad day. He can keep you company and entertained while Ranger, Caddem, and I handle the legal side of your problems. Just don't let his flirting get anywhere unless you enjoy one hell of a challenge."
"Seeing as how I only have one plan in place, we'll be fine."
"Famous last words," I said under my breath.
She's shorter than me by a good two inches if I'd subtracted the heel-height correctly on the ass-kickers she's wearing. That makes her way shorter than Lester, but I know he'll see right through her attitude, the painfully dyed-black hair, sarcastic twist of her mouth, and the haunted look in her red-rimmed brown/black eyes. And he'll be very interested.
My hope is that she'll be so busy - and amused - coming up with creative ways of turning him down, she'll forget to harm herself and maybe not even notice that I got her to agree to talk to someone who can help her more professionally than I ever could.
"Okay," I said, trying to reclaim control of the situation. "So this is how it's going to go. My guy and his lawyer will meet us at the station and get this mess caused by your momster cleared up as quickly as possible. And then you and I will get busy working on you. I'm gonna save you even if it kills me."