Lash Broken Angel

7





Lash pulled a small plastic baggie from his pocket and looked at his watch, wondering what was taking so long. A door squeaked open, and then he saw a reddish-brown bullet fly around the corner of the house, heading straight toward him.

Bear bounced up and down, her little pink tongue hanging out.

“Oh, so now you’re happy to see me,” Lash said. “Or are you happy to see this?” He waved the bag filled with Vienna sausages.

Bear barked.

“Shh.” He went to the corner of the house to see if anyone had heard her. Over the past couple of weeks, he managed to keep a low profile as he watched over Naomi. It wasn’t difficult to do. Most of the time she stayed at Welita’s house, and when she wasn’t there, she was at her apartment or at work. The only time he wasn’t able to keep as close tabs on her was when she went on her evening rides. At first, it was easy to keep up with her. Since she went on her rides at night, it was easy to fly without being caught, and she never rode too far. Today, Lash had to turn back before he went too far and wasn’t able to get back on his own. He cursed the fact that he was limited in the distance he was able to fly. Why bother giving him an assignment if he couldn’t use all of his gifts?

Lash tossed a sausage to Bear. Naomi was getting more reckless. Lately, she started to ride the bike faster, and he worried that she would get into an accident. It was as if she was hoping something would happen.

Bear gobbled the morsel with two bites and looked at him, panting for more. He tossed her another one and sat down on the grass, watching her as she ate. When she was done, she curled up on his lap. “I guess we’re friends now.”

Bear licked his fingers in response.

Lash chuckled. During the days that he’d spent watching Naomi, he figured that he had to find some way to keep the dog quiet. There was no better way to win a person’s heart—or a dog’s—than food.

He scratched behind Bear’s ear, something he’d seen Naomi do whenever she was visiting. After one of her rides, she’d sit in the living room and stare off into space. Bear would get a sad look in her eyes as if sensing her owner’s pain. The dog would lick her fingers cautiously until Naomi would snap out of it and place the dog in her lap.

Bear’s ears perked up.

“You hear her coming, too, huh?”

Bear wagged her tail.

“Okay, go back inside. You know how she gets after her rides.”

Bear barked in response and ran to the front yard. Lash peeked around the corner to watch. A mass of dark hair spilled out of Naomi’s helmet as she took it off. Her eyes looked puffy and her nose red. Tear streaks stained her cheeks. Lash shook his head and wished he could do something to take away her pain. He couldn’t understand why he cared. He’d been on lots of assignments where he had to watch people struggle with grief, but there was something about Naomi that touched him. She was like a wild bird, full of life and fire, that had her wings clipped, no longer able to fly. The girl he first saw ceased to exist.

“Hey, Bear,” Naomi said sadly as she bent down and patted her head.

The porch door swung open, and Chuy jogged out barefoot. “It’s about time you got back. Where were you?”

“None of your business.” She pulled the key from the ignition and got off the bike.

“Welita is worried about you riding that thing.”

“She’s always worried.”

“It’s different this time. A friend of hers saw you a couple of days ago on your bike. She said you were doing eighty, maybe even ninety.”

“So?” She crossed her arms.

Chuy scowled. “So Welita doesn’t want to wake up one morning and find out you’re splattered all over the highway. Neither do I.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know how to ride.” Naomi headed for the front door.

Chuy blocked her. “Give me the keys.” He held his hand out.

“What?”

“Give. Me. The keys.”

“Screw you. I’m not giving you anything. Get out of my way,” she said as she attempted to walk around him.

Lash clenched his hands into fists as he watched Chuy grip her arm. He’d never seen Chuy manhandle her. Family member or not, Lash was ready to do him bodily harm if he did anything to hurt her.

“Stop it, Chuy. I’m not giving you my bike.” She wrapped her fingers around the keys and held them behind her back.

Chuy grabbed her fist and attempted to pry her hand open. “I’m taking them whether you like it or not. I don’t want Welita worried about you every time you get on that thing.”

Bear ran around in circles, barking, as Naomi tried to pull her hand away from him.

“You’re hurting my hand.” Naomi hit his muscled brown arm.

Lash was about to risk his hiding place and go after him when Bear growled and lunged at Chuy, biting his big toe.

“Damn it, Bear. Knock it off.”

Lash grinned as he watched Chuy hop on his other foot while trying to rub his injured toe. He was beginning to really like that dog.

Naomi threw back her head and laughed. “Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” He sat on the porch steps and examined his toe. “I think she broke the skin.”

Naomi sat down next to him and examined his toe. “You big baby. She can barely make a dent with all those callouses.”

Chuy dropped his foot on the ground, and his face turned serious. “Look, Naomi. I’m all for you having your own ride. I was the one who fixed it up for you, but I’m worried about Welita.”

Naomi sighed. “I know. It’s just that”—she swallowed—“it’s the only thing that’s keeping me together.”

“Please, Naomi.” Chuy looked at her sadly. “Do it for Welita? Give her some peace of mind. It’ll only be for a while.”

Naomi looked sadly at her motorcycle and then back at Chuy. “Okay,” she said as she dropped the keys into his lap.

“Aren’t you coming inside?” Chuy asked as Naomi walked away from the house.

“I’m going home.” Naomi ran a hand over the bike as she passed it.

“Wait. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll catch the bus.”

Chuy jogged to her and stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder. She turned to face him. “Hey, you’re not mad at me, are you?”

“No, I’m not mad,” she said. “I just want to be alone.”

“It’ll only be for a while. You’ll get your bike back soon,” he said. “I promise.”

Lash saw the look on her face as she turned away from Chuy and walked down the street to the bus stop. He caught a glimpse of her face as she passed underneath a streetlight, and he was overwhelmed with trepidation. Most of the time, he went to his own place when she settled in for the night. This time he had a feeling that he should stay near her apartment—just in case.

***

The pounding of the drums and the screeching of the electric guitar reverberated throughout the dark room and into Naomi’s chest, a daily ritual since she had lost hope she could ever find justice for her father. The fire within her was dead. Who would ever listen to or even believe someone like her? She wasn’t rich or powerful. She was nobody. She turned up the bass as far as it would go.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She immersed herself into the wall of sound, desperate to shake off the numbness, hoping the pulsations of the music would substitute for the lively heartbeat that should be beating inside a girl who just graduated from college and starting out in life. Instead, her heart and soul were slowly dying.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The music, the woman’s voice crying, pleading to be brought back to life, it had helped before. Maybe it would again. Naomi waited, not knowing if she could snap herself out of it this time. She tried. Every day, she tried to live the life her parents had wanted for her. And after they died, only her grandmother and Chuy could lift the darkness from her. After a while, even that stopped working.

She knew it would.

She hoped the music would help her to feel something, anything but the overwhelming numbness. It wasn’t enough.

Naomi sighed as she pulled out a notepad and pen from her desk drawer. She clicked the pen and paused, thinking about what she wanted to say to Chuy. There wasn’t much she needed to tell him. He and Welita would know why she did it, but she wanted to make sure that they understood that there was nothing they could do about it. She had tried. She really did try to find a little bit of the happiness she once had. Even the job that she was so excited to have, connecting impoverished families in the community with resources, couldn’t fill the emptiness in her heart.

She scribbled on the pad, the words flowing out of her, about how much she loved them. She left her bike to Chuy. He loved that bike as much as she did. He took so much pride in fixing it up for her.

“Please don’t think it was your fault because you took it away from me,” Naomi said to the empty room. He was right to take it away. Welita read her like an open book. Nothing got past that woman. The rush of adrenaline Naomi got when she came close to skidding out of control was the only thing that made her feel alive anymore, and even that was fading. She’d been pushing herself closer and closer to the point of losing control and finding herself splattered on the road, as Chuy had put it.

She had thought about getting a gun. Given the bad neighborhood they lived in, she could’ve used the excuse that she was getting it to protect herself. If it weren’t for Chuy’s following her every move, she would have. Ever since the day of her father’s funeral, she could feel someone’s eyes on her. She knew it was him. Who else was insane enough to follow her, especially when she went down the most crime-ridden streets in Houston?

She folded up the notes and placed them in two envelopes. She laid them on the coffee table. There was one more thing she had to do. Naomi grabbed her laptop and sat on the floor. Clicking on the keys, she logged into her bank account. Whatever happened, she had to make sure that Welita was taken care of. Chuy would watch over her and be there for her but, financially, things were tight for them. Welita could stretch out what little money Naomi left to her. With a click of a button, she transferred all of her savings to her grandmother’s account. She then shut the computer off and pushed it aside.

One more thing to do and she was set. She brushed her hair to the side to take off the crucifix necklace her father had given her. As she took it off, she recalled the look on his face as he gave it to her, and a wave of guilt hit her.

“I’m so sorry.”

Sorry she couldn’t live the future her parents had dreamed for her. Sorry that she didn’t have the power to make things right for her family. She was tired of fighting. Why bother when there was always someone bigger, stronger, and more powerful to knock you down every time you try to pull yourself up?

She picked up the razor, her fingers gliding over the cool blade. A simple trip to the local drug store was all it took to acquire the instrument that she prayed would be a release for her frozen soul.

One. Two. Three vibrant red slashes appeared as she slid the blade across her wrist. Tears pricked her eyes as the pain ran up her arm. She rocked back and forth as she watched the blood drip onto the floor.

As much as it hurt, it felt good to finally feel something—anything. Pain. It was the only thing that made her feel like she was still alive. For a moment, she thought of Welita and she questioned what she was about to do. It wasn’t too late. The cuts weren’t deep. But the pain faded, leaving her cold and empty again. There was nothing left. Not for her.

Wiping her hand on her jeans, she gripped the blade, flipped her left hand over, and touched the tip to the darkest point of the blue vein.

“Forgive me.”

Gritting her teeth, she slid the blade downward. She cried out, and the razor clinked on the ground as it fell out of her hand.

Blood streamed down her arm, and she watched as it splashed on the floor. There was more pain now, but there was also a sense of peace. This would be over soon.

As the room began to spin, she let herself collapse to the floor, pressing her cheek against the coolness of it. “It’s almost over.” She prayed that she’d go quickly.

Time ticked by, and her hands slowly began to numb. Her vision blurring, a heavy wave of exhaustion washed over her, and Naomi closed her eyes. From a distance, she could hear knocking on her door.

“Naomi, open up!” The doorknob rattled when she didn’t respond. “Damn it, Naomi!”

Through a haze of white noise, Naomi heard a loud crash and the splintering of wood.

“Open.”

Bam.

“The.”

Bam.

“Door!”

A shadow loomed over her as Naomi slipped into the darkness, and strong hands lifted her.

“No,” she murmured and passed out.