Jhondie
I was finishing tying down the plane when my phone rang. I answered it, not checking the caller ID. I knew it wasn't Mom. She was on her way to come and pick me up. I had thought about calling Justin, but decided to surprise him instead. And I didn't care if it was Zack. I was going to tell him where I was and he could scream and rant and rave but I was going to deal with this problem head on. I wasn't going to spend my entire life running out on people. That was his choice not mine, and...and the call wasn't Zack.
It was Justin's father. "Jhondie, thank God," he said, "Where are you?"
That little niggling of fear I had felt when I talked to Mom came back a thousand times greater. I suddenly wished I hadn't taken the day to get the stuff Justin needed. I should have come home last night, not this evening. "At the airport," I answered. "Just got back."
Tom paused and I thought I was going to be sick. I knew. I didn't know specifics, but I knew something had happened. That feeling that I had been having all day was choking me. "Where's Justin?" I whispered.
"We're at St. Vincent's Hospital," he answered. "Justin...he was attacked by some gang, I think, I don't know for sure right now. Nobody knows what happened, but I know...I know it must have been because of that...that man he's been working for. You were missing and then yesterday he was and now..."
I made some kind of noise. I think it might have been a squeak. I knew it wasn't a word. Your throat has to be open to more than the size of a pinhole in order to speak. I couldn't talk. I couldn't breathe. That noise was all I could do to express some kind of agony so truly great that I couldn't feel all of it. I thought finding out about Bryn was bad? That was nothing.
"Is he..." I managed to get out.
"They don't think there's brain damage," Tom replied, "but it's bad, Jhondie."
I'm pretty sure he had more to say, but I had already hit the disconnect button on the phone. Everything was taller. No, I was on my knees. My arms crossed over my chest as I rocked, trying to be able to get it together enough to move. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. For once I couldn't hear Lydecker's voice telling me to get up and be a soldier and deal with it. There was this oddest noise in the hanger, a horrific keening wail of indescribable loss. It took me a minute to realize that I was the one making it.
I don't know how long I would have stayed like that but I couldn't breathe enough to keep it up. My mind seemed to be screaming a thousand things at once until finally one thought broke through and held. GO! Get up and go! Run, crawl, anything, just go! I clawed my way to my feet, my legs feeling like rubber.
I started to run. Warp speed, no holding back kind of running. It was a good thing nobody was around. They would have gotten a show unlike anything they could have imagined. I was across the small airport in a matter of seconds, moving into a smooth rhythm that showed every bit of my cat DNA. I wasn't thinking anymore. I had mentally mapped a route to the hospital and that's where I was going.
A car turned a corner in my path and I didn't think. I heard the brakes screeching as they locked, but I wasn't fazed at all as I jumped easily, landing on the hood. I was already moving, going over the top of the car like it was nothing. I was skidding off of the trunk when the door flew open and I realized it was Mom.
She was white and I coldly supposed it was from fear since she had almost run over her daughter, but that wasn't relevant to the situation right then. I know I jumped in the driver's side, shoving her over. Good thing she had taken off her seatbelt to get out and see if I was okay.
"Jhondie!" she started to say, but then was pressed backwards into the seat as I floored the gas pedal. What I would have given for Zack's motorcycle about then. I know I should have been thinking about cops and all that, but I didn't care. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, all I could do was focus on the road and how to get to the hospital. If a cop saw me, then there was going to be yet another chase on the LA freeway, because stopping was not an option.
"Tom called," I said coldly, my eyes flickering to her face.
"Have they found him yet?" she asked. "I know I should have told you," she added quickly, "but you had enough you were dealing with and he could be just off moping."
She didn't know. He had called me first. Smart man. "He's in the hospital, serious condition," I answered, ignoring her gasp. It could have been to my announcement. More than likely it was because we were approaching a row of cars and I didn't slow down at all, downshifting at the last second, making the turn by a hair. Several horns were honking, but that meant both annoyance and appreciation for such a cool move.
I think Mom wanted to question me further, but I didn't have it in me to answer anything. Was he going to be okay? That's what I wanted to know. And what happened? As much as I hated to consider the possibility, had it been Zack? I was out of the way and it would have been an easy mark. Hatred formed a hot, tight ball in the pit of my stomach. I had told Zack to make sure nothing happened to him. Warned him. He thought I was weak? Good. It would give me the advantage of surprise. He was dead. He might not know it, but the bastard was dead.
I don't think anyone had ever made it though late evening LA traffic in the record time that I did. Why fifteen cops weren't following us, I never knew. I didn't even shut off the engine. As soon as the car was in park, I was out the door, running into the hospital. I already had my cell out, dialed and Tom answered by the time I hit the doors of the hospital. He told me the room number and I sprinted to the stairs. Elevators were too slow and I didn't care who saw what anymore.
I was lucky the stairs were deserted. If they hadn't been, I would be in serious trouble because I flew up them, full speed ahead. I don't think I had ever moved that fast in my life to be honest. It's amazing what fear can make the human (or transgenic) body do. Some small part of my brain that was still thinking made me slow down when I got to the right floor, going to a jog rather than a sprint. But still, had the door to Justin's room been closed, there was still a chance I might have just gone right through it rather than knocking it open with a sharp bang.
I took about three steps into the room and stopped short. All of the adrenaline that had been fueling me disappeared when I saw Justin lying on that bed. The world went a little gray around the edges and I wasn't sure if I should throw up or pass out first. There were bandages everywhere. Casts, bandages, tubes, IV drips. Sure, I had seen people in worse shape before. But not Justin. This was...this was simply unacceptable.
Tom had been sitting beside him and rose when I came in. He looked a little surprised on how fast I had gotten up to the room, and had he asked I might have actually told him. Not the brightest idea, I know, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered. This was my doing. I should have been the one to take this. But I didn't. I had run away and left the person I loved more than anything in the world alone and defenseless.
There was a noise to my right and I finally realized that Tom was talking to me, telling me Justin's injuries and what the doctor had said. The only thing he said that mattered was that Justin was expected to live. I couldn't say the same of whoever had put him in here, but as long as he lived, then they would go quick and not spend at least a month begging to die.
I felt like a ghost, completely unreal as I went to Justin. I could feel tears on my face as I took his hand that wasn't in a cast in mine, but I couldn't make an effort to wipe them away. I wanted to scream. I wanted to wail. All my strength and cunning and abilities were absolutely useless. Even my medical knowledge was of no account. All I could do was sit there and pray.
Justin
Understandably, most of my memories of that time are pretty vague. I remember being in a lot of pain. Pain and then blacking out again. I remember waking up to gunshots, I think. Noises. A crash, maybe, I wasn't clear on what exactly happened for a while. I do remember thinking that they had managed to get Jhondie to come back. They had to have because they kept saying that they had me and their target was going to come.
And then Zack was there and he said that Jhondie was okay. Of anyone in the world, I would believe him when he said that she was in no danger. But there was a girl with him. I would have thought it was a dream, a hallucination made up of wanting to be sure that Jhondie was okay, but it wasn't Jhondie at all. At the time, I thought maybe it had been all in my head because she had carried me and no regular girl could have done that easily. But I did have a distinct memory of blonde hair in my face, bouncing as she ran.
It was a confusing, hazy mess until I finally woke up in the hospital. I couldn't open my eyes all the way, my body was locked into a strange position, something was up my nose and I just in general felt like crap. It took me a minute, but I finally realized that I must be in a hospital, because if this was the afterlife, then I had wasted a hell of a lot of Sundays in church. Going back to sleep for about a week until I felt better seemed like the best plan until I noticed someone at my side. Jhondie was semi-sitting in a chair beside me, her head resting on the mattress. Her head was on one arm, the other hand holding mine.
I gave her hand a squeeze and she looked up sharply. Her green eyes were heavily bloodshot, face swollen and she looked like she had been crying for a week straight. "Justin?" she whispered.
I sighed, wondering if I could talk. My throat was dry and my voice sounded rusty, but the noises were intelligible. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else?"
She made this noise, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. "Aren't you supposed to not be in a hospital?"
My eyes closed and a few pieces fell back into place. "Jhondie," I said, trying to sound urgent and not weak, "you have to go. Those guys...they were waiting for someone. I think I was bait." I wanted to say more, but it was like speaking alone drained every bit of my strength. God help me if I had to use the bathroom.
She shook her head. "It's been almost three days," she said hesitantly. "If they wanted me, they could have found me. But I'm not leaving ever again." Fresh tears welled up and slid silently down her face.
I squeezed her hand. "Don't cry, baby. It's okay." I would have given anything at that minute to be able to just hold her and comfort her. She wiped her eyes quickly, forcing herself to get back under control.
I wanted to talk more, tell her what I remembered and find out what happened to Zack, but I was falling asleep again. Her lips brushed against my forehead. "I love you," she whispered. I meant to say it back, but I was out again.
When I woke up again, the bright light from the window had faded into the shadows of night. I wasn't too sure, but I think I was feeling more coherent. Jhondie was gone and Dad was sitting there. He smiled when he saw me open my eyes. "Welcome back."
I groaned softly. "I'm more in trouble then when you found out about Trisha McCabe's father's car, aren't I?"
Dad laughed, but it sounded forced. "You don't know how many times I almost went to the police and told them about your other activities. Say what you want about that man, when he hides on a TV and sends my son off to be killed, I do have problems."
I tried to laugh, but it hurt too damn much. "And the irony is, this has nothing to do with that." It didn't take a psychic to know he wasn't buying that. "When someone who knows better tells you that you're way in over your head and to stay out, and you jump in anyways...next time, I'm going to listen."
I knew Dad was thinking of the boss when I was paraphrasing Zack. I hated to have to deceive my father, but I wasn't about to go into Jhondie. If she ever wanted to tell him, then that would be her call, but it wasn't my place. "Where's Jhondie?" I asked.
Now Dad smiled for real. "Ashley finally was able to get her to go home and eat and get some sleep. That girl's been in here for two days straight. Nobody could get her to leave long enough to change clothes, much less eat or sleep. Her mother managed to get her to eat some crackers yesterday, but that's been about it. She wasn't going to leave until you were awake."
I knew I was hurt pretty bad. It didn't take a doctor to tell me that the Demerol in the IV drip was currently my new best friend. But hearing that Jhondie, the girl that normally consumes about twice the amount of food in a day that I do, went two days without eating because she was worried about me, that let me know more than anything how close I came to dying.
"My nose is stuffy," I muttered, not that it had any bearing on the conversation, but keep in mind I was on some heavy-duty pain killers. They tend to keep a person from having a flowing conversation.
Dad shook his head. "Let's just say the doctor's corrected your deviated septum while they were fixing the broken nose," he said. "Your doctor came in a little bit ago while you were sleeping. He said that you're probably going to need surgery again in the next few weeks for some cosmetic work, but other than that, you are one lucky man."
He paused. "What the hell happened?" And then I knew how scared he had been. Jhondie had an idea of what had been going on. Dad was out there in the dark and I wondered how often he heard about a shooting with someone being in the wrong neighborhood and waited for the police to knock on his door and tell him that it was I. It wasn't fair to him, I know, but if I stopped trying, then who would take my place? I know, what can one man do, but someone had to try.
"I was looking into some stuff going on at the warehouses down there," I said. I guess coming up with good lines had started to become instinctive because I had a brilliant idea just then. "Got info about kiddie porn being filmed around there and was looking into it. Jhondie was doing secondary in Las Vegas and I made some bad mistakes and got caught. Stupid, amateur mistakes. That's all. Just got careless and then really unlucky." If there was one thing Dad never lectured me about, it was when I was going after people hurting kids.
This time he wasn't exactly convinced. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that this time, it wasn't hearing about me saving some other parent's kid. He had almost lost his own. "When is your life going to mean more?" he asked. "You've got your whole life in front of you. You can do anything you want, you have a beautiful young woman that you can make a family with, what's the point of it all if you're not going to see twenty-five?" he demanded.
We'd had this conversation before and maybe he was hoping this time the drugs I was on would help convince me of the error of my ways. He had no idea how deep my conviction ran on this point. For Eyes Only, I would take calculated risks. For Jhondie, well, if she wasn't there, then I didn't think I would have much interest living in general.
"Dad," I finally said, "if I didn't, then who would? I know you don't think one person can make a difference, but trust me, sometimes one is all you need." I thought for a second. "One time, actually what inspired me to start flying, was when a group of girls were kidnapped and about to be sent overseas as part of a white slavery ring. I semi-crash landed that plane with a dozen girls inside of it because I don't know how I was going to live with myself if I had done nothing and let them go without a fight."
"So you decided you would all live or all die, no other options there, huh?" He sighed. "Son, sometimes you can't win. And you have to ask yourself one thing. Is what I'm going to do to my family worth the lives of strangers? Are you going to do this kind of stuff when it means making Jhondie raise your kids alone?"
"One of the girls was this pretty little blonde named Kayla Harris." It was hard to get my Dad at a total loss, but I tell you, this time I had nailed him from left field. "And no, Ashley doesn't know. It's a long story, but her and Kat got into some trouble and were about to be on their way to Singapore, I think." I could have said more, but silence seemed a lot appropriate. And I was tired again. Thinking was painful. Sleep was good, talk was bad. I was really getting the hang of the whole invalid deal.
There was a long minute of silence. Dad finally blew out a breath. I think he really hated it that whatever was said between us remained between us. That had been the rule for a long time. Usually. There were some notable exceptions, but those weren't important at the moment.
"Would you like to try some water?"
I think I smiled. "Water would be good."
I was finishing tying down the plane when my phone rang. I answered it, not checking the caller ID. I knew it wasn't Mom. She was on her way to come and pick me up. I had thought about calling Justin, but decided to surprise him instead. And I didn't care if it was Zack. I was going to tell him where I was and he could scream and rant and rave but I was going to deal with this problem head on. I wasn't going to spend my entire life running out on people. That was his choice not mine, and...and the call wasn't Zack.
It was Justin's father. "Jhondie, thank God," he said, "Where are you?"
That little niggling of fear I had felt when I talked to Mom came back a thousand times greater. I suddenly wished I hadn't taken the day to get the stuff Justin needed. I should have come home last night, not this evening. "At the airport," I answered. "Just got back."
Tom paused and I thought I was going to be sick. I knew. I didn't know specifics, but I knew something had happened. That feeling that I had been having all day was choking me. "Where's Justin?" I whispered.
"We're at St. Vincent's Hospital," he answered. "Justin...he was attacked by some gang, I think, I don't know for sure right now. Nobody knows what happened, but I know...I know it must have been because of that...that man he's been working for. You were missing and then yesterday he was and now..."
I made some kind of noise. I think it might have been a squeak. I knew it wasn't a word. Your throat has to be open to more than the size of a pinhole in order to speak. I couldn't talk. I couldn't breathe. That noise was all I could do to express some kind of agony so truly great that I couldn't feel all of it. I thought finding out about Bryn was bad? That was nothing.
"Is he..." I managed to get out.
"They don't think there's brain damage," Tom replied, "but it's bad, Jhondie."
I'm pretty sure he had more to say, but I had already hit the disconnect button on the phone. Everything was taller. No, I was on my knees. My arms crossed over my chest as I rocked, trying to be able to get it together enough to move. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. For once I couldn't hear Lydecker's voice telling me to get up and be a soldier and deal with it. There was this oddest noise in the hanger, a horrific keening wail of indescribable loss. It took me a minute to realize that I was the one making it.
I don't know how long I would have stayed like that but I couldn't breathe enough to keep it up. My mind seemed to be screaming a thousand things at once until finally one thought broke through and held. GO! Get up and go! Run, crawl, anything, just go! I clawed my way to my feet, my legs feeling like rubber.
I started to run. Warp speed, no holding back kind of running. It was a good thing nobody was around. They would have gotten a show unlike anything they could have imagined. I was across the small airport in a matter of seconds, moving into a smooth rhythm that showed every bit of my cat DNA. I wasn't thinking anymore. I had mentally mapped a route to the hospital and that's where I was going.
A car turned a corner in my path and I didn't think. I heard the brakes screeching as they locked, but I wasn't fazed at all as I jumped easily, landing on the hood. I was already moving, going over the top of the car like it was nothing. I was skidding off of the trunk when the door flew open and I realized it was Mom.
She was white and I coldly supposed it was from fear since she had almost run over her daughter, but that wasn't relevant to the situation right then. I know I jumped in the driver's side, shoving her over. Good thing she had taken off her seatbelt to get out and see if I was okay.
"Jhondie!" she started to say, but then was pressed backwards into the seat as I floored the gas pedal. What I would have given for Zack's motorcycle about then. I know I should have been thinking about cops and all that, but I didn't care. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, all I could do was focus on the road and how to get to the hospital. If a cop saw me, then there was going to be yet another chase on the LA freeway, because stopping was not an option.
"Tom called," I said coldly, my eyes flickering to her face.
"Have they found him yet?" she asked. "I know I should have told you," she added quickly, "but you had enough you were dealing with and he could be just off moping."
She didn't know. He had called me first. Smart man. "He's in the hospital, serious condition," I answered, ignoring her gasp. It could have been to my announcement. More than likely it was because we were approaching a row of cars and I didn't slow down at all, downshifting at the last second, making the turn by a hair. Several horns were honking, but that meant both annoyance and appreciation for such a cool move.
I think Mom wanted to question me further, but I didn't have it in me to answer anything. Was he going to be okay? That's what I wanted to know. And what happened? As much as I hated to consider the possibility, had it been Zack? I was out of the way and it would have been an easy mark. Hatred formed a hot, tight ball in the pit of my stomach. I had told Zack to make sure nothing happened to him. Warned him. He thought I was weak? Good. It would give me the advantage of surprise. He was dead. He might not know it, but the bastard was dead.
I don't think anyone had ever made it though late evening LA traffic in the record time that I did. Why fifteen cops weren't following us, I never knew. I didn't even shut off the engine. As soon as the car was in park, I was out the door, running into the hospital. I already had my cell out, dialed and Tom answered by the time I hit the doors of the hospital. He told me the room number and I sprinted to the stairs. Elevators were too slow and I didn't care who saw what anymore.
I was lucky the stairs were deserted. If they hadn't been, I would be in serious trouble because I flew up them, full speed ahead. I don't think I had ever moved that fast in my life to be honest. It's amazing what fear can make the human (or transgenic) body do. Some small part of my brain that was still thinking made me slow down when I got to the right floor, going to a jog rather than a sprint. But still, had the door to Justin's room been closed, there was still a chance I might have just gone right through it rather than knocking it open with a sharp bang.
I took about three steps into the room and stopped short. All of the adrenaline that had been fueling me disappeared when I saw Justin lying on that bed. The world went a little gray around the edges and I wasn't sure if I should throw up or pass out first. There were bandages everywhere. Casts, bandages, tubes, IV drips. Sure, I had seen people in worse shape before. But not Justin. This was...this was simply unacceptable.
Tom had been sitting beside him and rose when I came in. He looked a little surprised on how fast I had gotten up to the room, and had he asked I might have actually told him. Not the brightest idea, I know, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered. This was my doing. I should have been the one to take this. But I didn't. I had run away and left the person I loved more than anything in the world alone and defenseless.
There was a noise to my right and I finally realized that Tom was talking to me, telling me Justin's injuries and what the doctor had said. The only thing he said that mattered was that Justin was expected to live. I couldn't say the same of whoever had put him in here, but as long as he lived, then they would go quick and not spend at least a month begging to die.
I felt like a ghost, completely unreal as I went to Justin. I could feel tears on my face as I took his hand that wasn't in a cast in mine, but I couldn't make an effort to wipe them away. I wanted to scream. I wanted to wail. All my strength and cunning and abilities were absolutely useless. Even my medical knowledge was of no account. All I could do was sit there and pray.
Justin
Understandably, most of my memories of that time are pretty vague. I remember being in a lot of pain. Pain and then blacking out again. I remember waking up to gunshots, I think. Noises. A crash, maybe, I wasn't clear on what exactly happened for a while. I do remember thinking that they had managed to get Jhondie to come back. They had to have because they kept saying that they had me and their target was going to come.
And then Zack was there and he said that Jhondie was okay. Of anyone in the world, I would believe him when he said that she was in no danger. But there was a girl with him. I would have thought it was a dream, a hallucination made up of wanting to be sure that Jhondie was okay, but it wasn't Jhondie at all. At the time, I thought maybe it had been all in my head because she had carried me and no regular girl could have done that easily. But I did have a distinct memory of blonde hair in my face, bouncing as she ran.
It was a confusing, hazy mess until I finally woke up in the hospital. I couldn't open my eyes all the way, my body was locked into a strange position, something was up my nose and I just in general felt like crap. It took me a minute, but I finally realized that I must be in a hospital, because if this was the afterlife, then I had wasted a hell of a lot of Sundays in church. Going back to sleep for about a week until I felt better seemed like the best plan until I noticed someone at my side. Jhondie was semi-sitting in a chair beside me, her head resting on the mattress. Her head was on one arm, the other hand holding mine.
I gave her hand a squeeze and she looked up sharply. Her green eyes were heavily bloodshot, face swollen and she looked like she had been crying for a week straight. "Justin?" she whispered.
I sighed, wondering if I could talk. My throat was dry and my voice sounded rusty, but the noises were intelligible. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else?"
She made this noise, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. "Aren't you supposed to not be in a hospital?"
My eyes closed and a few pieces fell back into place. "Jhondie," I said, trying to sound urgent and not weak, "you have to go. Those guys...they were waiting for someone. I think I was bait." I wanted to say more, but it was like speaking alone drained every bit of my strength. God help me if I had to use the bathroom.
She shook her head. "It's been almost three days," she said hesitantly. "If they wanted me, they could have found me. But I'm not leaving ever again." Fresh tears welled up and slid silently down her face.
I squeezed her hand. "Don't cry, baby. It's okay." I would have given anything at that minute to be able to just hold her and comfort her. She wiped her eyes quickly, forcing herself to get back under control.
I wanted to talk more, tell her what I remembered and find out what happened to Zack, but I was falling asleep again. Her lips brushed against my forehead. "I love you," she whispered. I meant to say it back, but I was out again.
When I woke up again, the bright light from the window had faded into the shadows of night. I wasn't too sure, but I think I was feeling more coherent. Jhondie was gone and Dad was sitting there. He smiled when he saw me open my eyes. "Welcome back."
I groaned softly. "I'm more in trouble then when you found out about Trisha McCabe's father's car, aren't I?"
Dad laughed, but it sounded forced. "You don't know how many times I almost went to the police and told them about your other activities. Say what you want about that man, when he hides on a TV and sends my son off to be killed, I do have problems."
I tried to laugh, but it hurt too damn much. "And the irony is, this has nothing to do with that." It didn't take a psychic to know he wasn't buying that. "When someone who knows better tells you that you're way in over your head and to stay out, and you jump in anyways...next time, I'm going to listen."
I knew Dad was thinking of the boss when I was paraphrasing Zack. I hated to have to deceive my father, but I wasn't about to go into Jhondie. If she ever wanted to tell him, then that would be her call, but it wasn't my place. "Where's Jhondie?" I asked.
Now Dad smiled for real. "Ashley finally was able to get her to go home and eat and get some sleep. That girl's been in here for two days straight. Nobody could get her to leave long enough to change clothes, much less eat or sleep. Her mother managed to get her to eat some crackers yesterday, but that's been about it. She wasn't going to leave until you were awake."
I knew I was hurt pretty bad. It didn't take a doctor to tell me that the Demerol in the IV drip was currently my new best friend. But hearing that Jhondie, the girl that normally consumes about twice the amount of food in a day that I do, went two days without eating because she was worried about me, that let me know more than anything how close I came to dying.
"My nose is stuffy," I muttered, not that it had any bearing on the conversation, but keep in mind I was on some heavy-duty pain killers. They tend to keep a person from having a flowing conversation.
Dad shook his head. "Let's just say the doctor's corrected your deviated septum while they were fixing the broken nose," he said. "Your doctor came in a little bit ago while you were sleeping. He said that you're probably going to need surgery again in the next few weeks for some cosmetic work, but other than that, you are one lucky man."
He paused. "What the hell happened?" And then I knew how scared he had been. Jhondie had an idea of what had been going on. Dad was out there in the dark and I wondered how often he heard about a shooting with someone being in the wrong neighborhood and waited for the police to knock on his door and tell him that it was I. It wasn't fair to him, I know, but if I stopped trying, then who would take my place? I know, what can one man do, but someone had to try.
"I was looking into some stuff going on at the warehouses down there," I said. I guess coming up with good lines had started to become instinctive because I had a brilliant idea just then. "Got info about kiddie porn being filmed around there and was looking into it. Jhondie was doing secondary in Las Vegas and I made some bad mistakes and got caught. Stupid, amateur mistakes. That's all. Just got careless and then really unlucky." If there was one thing Dad never lectured me about, it was when I was going after people hurting kids.
This time he wasn't exactly convinced. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that this time, it wasn't hearing about me saving some other parent's kid. He had almost lost his own. "When is your life going to mean more?" he asked. "You've got your whole life in front of you. You can do anything you want, you have a beautiful young woman that you can make a family with, what's the point of it all if you're not going to see twenty-five?" he demanded.
We'd had this conversation before and maybe he was hoping this time the drugs I was on would help convince me of the error of my ways. He had no idea how deep my conviction ran on this point. For Eyes Only, I would take calculated risks. For Jhondie, well, if she wasn't there, then I didn't think I would have much interest living in general.
"Dad," I finally said, "if I didn't, then who would? I know you don't think one person can make a difference, but trust me, sometimes one is all you need." I thought for a second. "One time, actually what inspired me to start flying, was when a group of girls were kidnapped and about to be sent overseas as part of a white slavery ring. I semi-crash landed that plane with a dozen girls inside of it because I don't know how I was going to live with myself if I had done nothing and let them go without a fight."
"So you decided you would all live or all die, no other options there, huh?" He sighed. "Son, sometimes you can't win. And you have to ask yourself one thing. Is what I'm going to do to my family worth the lives of strangers? Are you going to do this kind of stuff when it means making Jhondie raise your kids alone?"
"One of the girls was this pretty little blonde named Kayla Harris." It was hard to get my Dad at a total loss, but I tell you, this time I had nailed him from left field. "And no, Ashley doesn't know. It's a long story, but her and Kat got into some trouble and were about to be on their way to Singapore, I think." I could have said more, but silence seemed a lot appropriate. And I was tired again. Thinking was painful. Sleep was good, talk was bad. I was really getting the hang of the whole invalid deal.
There was a long minute of silence. Dad finally blew out a breath. I think he really hated it that whatever was said between us remained between us. That had been the rule for a long time. Usually. There were some notable exceptions, but those weren't important at the moment.
"Would you like to try some water?"
I think I smiled. "Water would be good."