Easy Little Lick (Copperline #3) Page 18

  “Cody,” she cried, “Cody, look at me. Open your eyes.”

  I tried, but my body just couldn’t do it. There wasn’t enough left in me.

  “Cody, please,” she whispered frantically, “open your eyes.”

  I felt her shuffling and heard the beeps of her phone. The faint voice of a dispatcher sounded in the quiet night.

  “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

  “Help, a man’s been shot,” Ilsa cried.

  I started fading in and out as I heard her giving some directions, and then she was leaning over me.

  “Please be okay, Cody. Please be okay…”

  Everything seemed so quiet. Only a hushed murmur or two in the distance. My eyes felt heavy and sticky, and it took all the strength I had to open them just the tiniest bit.

  That was all I needed.

  I was in a hospital room, in a hospital bed. I had bandages down across my chest and all kinds of IVs and shit in my arms. I had little monitors here and there.

  But what settled me was Ilsa and Max curled up fast asleep in a recliner beside me. I closed my eyes with a sense of overpowering relief and let the heavy darkness pull me back under, content in knowing that they were okay.

  The deep tone of a man’s voice was speaking, asking questions.

  Ilsa’s voice was quietly responding from close by me, and I felt the cool touch of her hand on my arm.

  Both were speaking in murmurs. I couldn’t understand much at first, just making out bits and pieces. I cracked my eye open long enough to see the officer’s uniform as he wrote on a small notepad.

  Police? Oh, right… Simon. Ilsa had shot him.

  “We didn’t even see Simon until after he’d shot Cody,” Ilsa was softly saying. “There was so much blood. Cody was hurt, but he pushed me away. He told me to run.” She took a shaky breath and lightly sniffed. “I started to, but I couldn’t leave him there. When I saw the gun skidding across the road… I had to do something.”

  “So you picked it up,” the officer asked.

  “I did. I wasn’t… I didn’t know what to do, and when Simon hit Cody’s head on the ground…” A small sob broke through. “He was going to kill him. Cody was just trying to save me, and Simon… he was going to kill him.” For a moment, the room was quiet, and then Ilsa sniffed and continued. “I was afraid I’d shoot Cody by accident, but I had to stop Simon from hurting him.”

  The murmurs began to fade out again as my shoulder started throbbing again, making it hard to focus. They mixed with faint sniffles. Then heavy footsteps headed away from the bed.

  “I don’t think they’ll charge you with anything,” the officer said, sounding farther away from me now. “What you’ve told me seems to coincide with what his friends out in the waiting room said, both about you and your husband. The evidence we pulled at the scene seems pretty straightforward, and we got a copy of your denied order of protection. How that failed is beyond me. At any rate, none of it leads me to believe that the death of your husband was a criminal act on your behalf.”

  The delicate touch of Ilsa’s fingertips dusted across my forehead, brushing the hair out of my eyes. I could almost feel her gaze on me, the thick cloud of worry that surrounded her.

  “How’s he doing?” the officer asked.

  “He’s alive,” Ilsa whispered. “He’s not out of the woods yet, but he’s alive.”

  There was a momentary silence, the occasional sniffle, and then I heard a door open.

  “We’ll give you a call if we have any more questions,” the officer stated.

  “Okay,” she replied, and then the door closed.

  In the quiet room, I heard Ilsa’s breath catch and hold, a quiet sob, and another catch. I felt warm teardrops fall on my arm.

  I wanted more than anything to open my eyes, to comb my fingers through her hair. To hold her while she cried, but my body wouldn’t respond to my mind.

  “I’m so sorry, Cody,” she softly cried. “I’m so sorry.”

  A light kiss pressed against my arm, followed by her wet cheek as she laid her head down.

  “Please be okay.” Her voice was fading again. Sounding far away even though I could still feel her touch. “I’m so sorry. So sorry…”

  “Dody?” I heard Max chirp.

  I wanted to open my eyes again, but it was so hard to do.

  “Cody’s sleeping, baby,” Ilsa’s quiet voice replied. I heard a slight shuffle of movement, and then Sophie’s voice.

  “Sorry,” she whispered, “he was getting kind of fussy out there… wanted his mama.”

  What the fuck was Sophie doing here?

  “It’s okay,” came Ilsa’s muffled response, and in my mind I almost could see her resting her lips against Max’s hair.

  “How’s he doing?” Sophie’s voice again.

  “He seems to be pretty stable, so it’s just a matter of him waking up. They’re not sedating him anymore.”

  “That’s good, considering he just had surgery yesterday morning.”

  “Yeah,” Ilsa murmured. “It’s amazing he survived, but even more amazing that he’s doing so well.”

  “He’s a strong guy,” Sophie replied. “Brannon just talked to Cody’s mom, and they’re on their way from Ophir. They should be here by morning.”

  There was a long silence. I tried to open my eyes, but it was impossible. They felt like they’d been glued shut.

  “I shouldn’t be here…” I heard Ilsa whisper.

  “What?” Sophie asked. “Why?”

  “I’m the reason he’s hurt. His parents won’t want me here.”

  “Ilsa, I don’t think they’re like that.”

  “They won’t mean to be. I met them once before, and they were very sweet, but they…” She released a shaky breath. “They know I’m not good for Cody. I never have been.”

  “They would want Cody to be happy,” Sophie argued softly.

  “Could you forgive someone who almost killed your child?” Ilsa asked in a small voice.

  “Simon could have killed him, not you. It wasn’t you who did this.”

  “Simon wanted to kill him because of me,” Ilsa added with finality. “His parents won’t want him with me.”

  “He’s stubborn, though,” Sophie added, “and he loves you.”

  “And that will just drive a wedge between him and his parents… like I haven’t already caused enough drama in his life.”

  I felt Ilsa’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t bring myself out of the choking fog that was pulling back into the darkness. My exhaustion and the morphine won, and I faded into nothing once more.

  The room was dim. Only a low light glowed over the sink. The blinds were drawn, but, looking through the cracks, it appeared dark outside. It took me a minute to figure out where I was.

  Ilsa… Where was Ilsa?

  I turned my head on the pillow. She was still there, curled up in a chair by my bed with Max conked out in another chair beside her. Her fingertips were just barely a hair away from mine, like she’d fallen asleep holding my hand and then slipped away.

  I extended my reach slightly, just wanting to touch her.

  Her eyes flew open at the brush of my fingers and instantly filled with tears.

  “Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re awake,” she whispered.

  “Is Max okay?” I could barely talk. My voice sounded thick and rough.

  She nodded, blinking quickly. Reaching for a pitcher beside the bed, she leaned forward and brought a glass of ice water close to my lips. The liquid felt incredibly cool against my parched throat.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “Are you hurting?”

  I thought about that for a second, remembering the gunshot and wondering if the dull ache in my chest was from that. I tentatively moved my arm, and felt the pain in a different spot. Or all over. It was hard to tell, especially since I still felt pretty groggy.

  “Why did you leave?” I suddenly asked, then regretted it when her lower lip trembled
.

  “I was making you miserable,” she whispered, shaking her head.

  “That’s not true.” I tried to shake my head, but felt so stiff and sore that I barely moved.

  “It is, though, Cody. Your life was so easy and mellow. Then I showed up and suddenly you’re getting in fights… I was keeping secrets… and Simon… how you felt after you found out.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me? You could have trusted me.”

  “I wanted to… so many times,” she whispered and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. Well, at first it was, maybe. When I first met you, I was scared of being found out. As I got to know you, though, it wasn’t fear of what you might do. It was fear for you… I was afraid of what might happen to you because of me.”

  “Ils—”

  “I was doing something wrong by running away, Cody. By taking Max away from his father, I basically kidnapped him. For all I knew, Simon had gone to the authorities, and I was a fugitive. I knew you’d protect me, but telling you…” She trailed off as she swallowed hard. “It would have made you an accomplice. It would have gotten you in trouble unless you turned me in.”

  “I would have never done that,” I said.

  Her hazel eyes held a sad smile. “I know. You would have taken a fall for me. You kinda did, actually, when you were shot because of me. I don’t deserve that, Cody.”

  “Ils—” I began again, but she took my hand in hers, studying it as she traced my fingers with her own.

  “I tried so hard not to love you.”

  But I wanted her to love me.

  “Do you?” I asked, almost afraid that even now she might say no.

  She kept her eyes lowered for a moment, doing nothing to ease my trepidation, but finally lifted them to look at me once more and nodded.

  “I do,” she whispered. “I really do.”

  I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling her words wash over me. The haze of medicines and injury made it difficult to open them again, but I fought through it to look at her once again.

  “Will you stay?” I asked. “Stay here with me.”

  She furrowed her brow and looked down again. “I have to go tie up all the loose ends in Indy, now that Simon’s gone…”

  God, I didn’t want her to leave.

  “Will you come back?”

  Say yes… say yes.

  “Are you sure you want me to?” she asked. “You may not feel the same once you’re off the pain meds. And your parents must hate—”

  A quiet knock at the door interrupted whatever more she was going to say, and a nurse came in, stopping short when she saw my open eyes.

  Shit… fuck…

  I wanted to tell her to go away, but she never really gave me the chance.

  “Oh, wonderful,” she smiled. “You’re awake.” She poked her head back out the door and mumbled something to someone about sending for the doctor on call, and stepped up to the bed.

  Right about that time, Max started fidgeting where he slept in the other chair, waking up in an unfamiliar place and appearing somewhat rattled. He looked around, calming some when he saw his mom, then pointed at me.

  “Dody,” he said. “Ooch.”

  “Yeah,” Ilsa murmured as she picked him up and held him close, “Cody’s got an ooch, baby.”

  “He sure does,” the nurse added. “A big ooch. I’m going to change the dressing, so you two should maybe step outside for a bit.”

  “Right,” Ilsa replied, then paused before she continued in a shaky breath. “I should take Max to go get something to eat anyway, so, uh… I’ll be back in a bit.”

  She stepped over to me, leaning over to kiss my forehead.

  “I love you,” she whispered, and then turned and left the room with Max.

  She didn’t come back.

  I’d been back in Ophir for about two months, back to playing the drums for about half that time, although still not as much or as hard as before. My body was a little slow to recover. Having a bullet tear through your flesh will do that to a person. I was still tender, and I tired more quickly than I used to, but I needed to get back to my rhythm. I needed something to do, something to live for. Something to distract me.

  Because Ilsa still hadn’t come back.

  Maybe she was gone for good.

  Sometimes at night, I woke up feeling like I was still in the hospital. I heard her quiet voice in my dreams. I felt her soft touch on my hand.

  I didn’t know how to reach her. The cell phone number she’d had before was now out of service. I knew it was a pay-as-you-go, so that didn’t surprise me all that much that it wasn’t valid any longer.

  I didn’t know if she was still in Indianapolis, or if she’d moved on. I wanted to go find her, to track her down by using the address she’d given me when Simon had taken her and Max. I didn’t know if she was still suffering some shell-shock after everything that had happened. Or if Max was. While the memories were sketchy for me, especially after being shot, it was possible the traumatic experience had messed with his tiny little kid head.

  I didn’t know if I’d ever know.

  I only knew that I missed them.

  I missed Ilsa and her shy smiles. I missed her quiet presence at the Copperline. I missed her sweet lips and, even though we only had a good week or so where we were truly together, I missed holding her at night. I missed waking up and having ‘mook’ with Max or hearing him call me ‘Dody’ in that excited little chirp.

  I even found myself listening to fucking K-pop. I had no idea what a majority of it said, but one song said something like ‘I want you back back back back back’… and I did. Totally. With every fiber of my being. That line echoed through my head pretty much nonstop, interchanging with one where some chicks said ‘baby, I’m so lonely lonely lonely lonely lonely’ over and over.

  K-pop was rather repetitive.

  Denny and Felicity, Brannon and Sophie, Drew and Maggie (okay, maybe not Maggie because she was kind of a bitch), and even Justin tried to keep my hope alive.

  Yeah, even Justin.

  As much as he told me I was a total lame ass for falling so hard and so fast, he almost started being nice to me. He mostly laid off the drummer jokes and wasn’t trying to throw pussy at me every time he turned around.

  More than that, though, he was kinda there for me. He hung out with me and watched out for me. I’d always heard that the bass guitarist and the drummer tended to be the closest in the band.

  I’d also figured the people who thought that had never met Justin.

  But in the time after Ilsa had disappeared, Justin kept me from swirling in melancholy. He kept me up and out and about, dragging me with him to car shows or monster truck rallies. In very un-Justin-like fashion, he didn’t bail on me as soon as a chick tossed a suggestive wink his way. Like he didn’t want me to feel all alone.

  However, he was still Justin, and tonight he was working his way into a bed with a couple girls who were out on the prowl with a bachelorette party. So I was on my own.

  I stepped outside the back of the bar and walked to the far corner of the lot, leaning up against the split rail fence that bordered it. The night air was quiet and peaceful, even with muted revelry carrying over from the bar. Well into fall, the days were getting a little shorter, cooling off sooner with the crisp smell of falling leaves. I wondered where Ilsa was and what it was like there.

  I wondered if she ever stared off into the twilight wondering about me.

  “My real name is Isabelle.”

  The voice sounded behind me like a dream. That voice. Her voice. I was afraid to turn around, to see nothing there. I wanted so badly to see her.

  I took a deep breath and slowly looked back to see her standing a few feet away. Her eyes were full of tears. She was shaking, trembling there before me.

  “I didn’t know if you still wanted me to come back,” she whispered. “The longer I was gone, the more I thought… you’re so much better off without me. I
realized, though, I never told you my real name, and it felt wrong that I still had that one secret.”

  Without a thought, without even realizing I was doing it, I strode over to her, grasping her cheeks in my palms, and brought her lips up to mine.

  She let out a choked sob at the first touch, then threw her arms around my neck and kissed me back. The touch of her, her warm scent of sunshine, everything rushed through me, swelling in my chest with a beautiful ache. She melted against me, and I could taste the salty wetness on her tender lips. I didn’t want to stop kissing her. Ever. I was halfway afraid that if I did, she’d disappear. That I would find she was only an apparition.

  Oh God, don’t let her leave me again. I wanted so badly for her to stay.

  I pulled away a bit and touched my forehead to hers, trying to make my voice work. The wonder of seeing her, though, of feeling her in my arms, made it an impossible task for a second. My own eyes burned, and I kept them tightly closed while I tried to sort through the thoughts whirling around in my mind.

  Ilsa spoke instead.

  “My birthday is April twenty-sixth,” she whispered against my lips. “My maiden name is Phillips. I’m twenty-three years old. I've been married once, and he hurt me a lot. He made me afraid to love you because I knew that I couldn’t have you. I didn’t deserve you.”

  “Ils—” I started, but she didn’t allow me to interrupt.

  “I knew it was wrong to be with you.” Her breath caught in a pained sob. “And then he hurt you. I’m so sorry he hurt you.”

  I shook my head just faintly, not wanting to do or say anything to push her away. I wanted her right where she was forever.

  “I don’t give a fuck what happens to me,” I said, still somewhat dazed that she was here, “not with what he was doing to you.”

  “I know that, too.” She smiled through her tears and her fingertips trailed down along my shoulder where I’d been shot. “But he could have killed you… because of me.”

  I shook my head. “Not because of you. Because of me.”

  She shook her head. “Cody—”

  “I love you, Ils… or Isabelle, or whatever the fuck you want me to call you. I wasn’t about to let him hurt you or Max. I sure as fuck wasn’t going to let him take you away from me.” I gave her a lazy grin to cover the rapid beating of my heart against my ribs. “It was purely selfish of me.”