Killing Me Softly(A Broken Souls Series)

“What a dick.”

“I’m hoping they’ll move him out of our dorm and put him in the crappy dorms to punish him. Enough about him. I was thinking, you could stay at the dorms with me on the weekends. My house will be finished in middle of August. Since I’m paying cash, they’ve put me at the top of the list. I’d like you to stay at least the first weekend you’re out. Your Aunt has been nice to me here, but I doubt she’ll let me sleep at her house on weekends. It’s totally up to you, but my vote is, yes.” He walks over to the sink and washes his hands. Since I’ve been awake, he washes his hands constantly. The other night he confessed that he had to buy lotion in the women’s section to find something that would rehydrate his hands. He’s so worried that my infection will flare up and I’ll lose my leg, so he tries to be germ-free for me. For the first time, someone other than Andy cares about what happens to me.

I pat the spot on the bed next to me so I can snuggle up to him. He slips off his shoes and lays down next to me. Cuddling is our favorite past-time now that I don’t have a bunch of wires and tubes everywhere on my body. In these private moments, my heart skips beats in my chest, like a lone drummer beating out a love song. Before thinking, I blurt out, “Do you think he went to hell?” This question has been burning in my brain. Suicide is one of those things that I’ve always heard would give you a one way ticket to hell. I can’t imagine my poor lost soul father spending eternity in hell.

Tate pulls me until my head is on his chest and his heart is beating in my ear. “Your dad was mentally ill and I think God would forgive him. He was sick and if he were okay in his head, he wouldn’t have tried to harm you or him. I believe that without question.”

For the first time, tears sting my eyes. One rolls off and drips on his shirt. Tate’s hand rubs up and down my back as I absorbed his words. He’s right, God would know he was sick and would let him in heaven. I have to believe that, because if I don’t, I’ll break. Years and years of caring for him have been ripped away from me. “I haven’t thought of it that way, I think you’re right. It hurts to know I’ll never see him again. This is going to sound like I’m a horrible person, but a part of me is relieved that I’m free to live my life.”

He turns toward me and smiles sweetly. “You’re not a horrible person, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. Your dad was selfish to have put so much pressure on his young daughter. I’m surprised you’re as kind as you are, do you know how all of that pressure could have screwed you up royally?”

I sniffle as my tears keep escaping my eyes and landing on Tate’s chest. “Maybe I’m screwed up royally and I’ve got everyone fooled.”

“Holland, what you’re feeling is perfectly okay. You’re handling things so much better than I would. Watching you hooked up to a machine that was breathing for you, upset me to my core. You’ve faced so much and yet you’re worried about being screwed up. It’s the people who go around proclaiming how okay they are who are screwed up on the inside.” He takes his finger under my chin, lifting it up as he bends over to kiss me. It’s the type of kiss that’s sweet and gentle, the kind that leaves you breathless. His hand cups the back of my head as he pulls me closer to him.

“You don’t think someone will rat you out if I stay in your dorm room? What would happen to you if you get caught?” The last thing either of us needs is trouble with the military.

“Everyone in my dorms is cool, except my roommate, but I don’t think he’d report me. He’s always trying to get me to break the rules and be a rebellion. At this point, I think those of us who don’t party are the real rebellions. We’ll entertain them with our singing,” he teases.

“Oh lord! I’m not sure my lungs are up to singing yet. I tried to sing last night, it wasn’t pretty.”

“Even more of a reason for us to practice. The doctor said for you to do lung exercises and singing is one way to help you get back your strength. Plus, it buys me more time with you.”

I look up at his face and I can’t imagine a life without him in it. He’s my saving grace.

***

The elevator doors open to the third floor hallway. The dorms are quieter than I expected for a building full of guys, most under twenty-five. My leg is in a sadistic looking leg splint with its metal circles and rods that are able to be adjusted with the exposed wing-nuts. Tate is carrying my crutches in one hand and his other arm is around me to hold me up. The high-gloss tile floors reflect the fluorescent lights on the ceiling.

“Wow, the floors are almost blinding they’re so shiny,” I say as I hobble along to his room.

“That’s one of our duties here in the dorms, we have to wax the floors. We’re the next door on our left,” he whispers.

“Oh, so everyone has to clean the dorms too?”

“We not only clean, but we have inspections.” Each door is Air Force Blue with a nameplate with the last names of the people in each room.

“Is this you? What does SrA, mean?” I hold on to the door jamb as I try to walk less like a zombie into his room. Nothing screams sexy girlfriend like an orthopedic boot, cutoff sweat pants to fit over the boot, and a big baggy t-shirt. I’ve tried to ask Aunt Laney for a bra that clips in the front but I can’t imagine her inside Lulu-Belle’s Lingerie buying anything. I settled on asking for a couple of sports bras to just pull over my head.

“That’s my rank, I’m a Senior Airman. Here, give me your bag, I’ll set it down for you.”

Like a hotel, there’s only one window once you pass two beds, one on each side of the room. Tate pulls open the dark-out curtains and light pours in from the afternoon sun. A bulletin board with concert ticket stubs and pics of guitars is next to the first bed in the room and on the opposite side, the bulletin board is filled pics of celebrity girls barely dressed.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you were a Kardashian kind of guy,” I tease as I sit in the chair he pulls out for me.

“That is not my side of the room, however, I don’t complain,” he teases back. “This is my fancy room with grey walls and blue curtains. This table serves as our desk, card table, domino table, and my favorite, dining table. I was thinking about ordering some pizza, do you want the usual pepperoni with extra cheese?”

“They deliver pizza on base? I’ve never thought about it, but it makes perfect sense. Do the drivers have to do anything special?”

“I’ll call the gate and tell them what place will be delivering to me. I have to meet the driver in the parking lot, other than that, pretty painless. Are you feeling okay, you look a little pale?”

***

My cell phone ringing wakes me up. I look at the clock and see it is eight-thirty in the morning. I don’t recognize the number so I hit ignore and snuggled back into Tate.

After I wake up, I check my phone to listen to the message.

HELLO HOLLAND – THIS IS YOUR MOM. GIVE ME A CALL. I LOVE YOU.

I slam the phone into the pillow and cuss as loud as humanly possible in a whisper.

***

“Your mom called your cell phone? How did she get the number?” Tate asks after I tell him about this call this morning.

I shake my head back and forth and shrug. Now she wants to contact me? One day after I buried my dad in a private ceremony! There’s no way I’m talking to her. “I don’t know. I’m guessing she was either given it by my dad in one of their secret conversations, or Aunt Laney. Either way, I’m not calling her right now. How can she think she can just show up and be a mom again?” I collapse against Tate and cry. He doesn’t say anything, he just holds me and strokes my hair.