"I like the way you work it, no diggity, I got to bag it up bag it up," Sasha sang along to the song that was blasting out of a car somewhere as she shimmied her way across the restaurant's parking lot. A couple of steps behind her, Joe watched the little show his girlfriend was putting on. "That's the last time I ever order you Mai Tais, woman," he jibed, "Stick to your sissy Mojitos from now on."
"I'm not drunk if that's what you're implying, just a little tipsy," Sasha defended herself.
"Drunk, tipsy, it makes your singing worse and that's saying something," said Joe, intently watching her backside roll around in that tight dress he wanted to peel off of her body so badly. "On the bright side, I can watch you dance like that all night long. How the hell do you move your ass like that?"
"You can thank my Caribbean roots. And shut up about my singing. Ain't like you any better."
"You sure about that?" Joe taunted her, laughing when she turned and stuck out her tongue at him. They neared his Range Rover, and just as she was rounding the vehicle towards the passenger's side, Joe drew her back to him and pressed her against the side of the SUV. He gave up a long time ago on trying to keep his hands off her for more than ten seconds. He simply could not. His smoldering eyes locked onto hers. "You are so damn gorgeous, baby girl," he whispered gruffly, his hands gliding down her curves appreciatively. "The things I wanna do to you in this sexy fuckin' dress."
Flashing him a seductive smirk, she pulled him closer by his leather jacket – which he looked extremely sexy in – and ran her brightly-colored thumbnail over his lips. "Well, you can show me later tonight," she whispered back, as his fingers tangled in her curly hair. "Your place or mine?"
Without replying, Joe leaned down and kissed her, her face firmly in his grasp, his big body pressing hers insistently against the car. Oh yeah, she was getting it tonight. Their embrace was getting hotter and heavier when her phone went off in her purse, throwing her off balance. Sighing with annoyance, Sasha pulled back and retrieved the pesky phone. "It's Pam. Hold that thought," she grumbled, brushing past her boyfriend to get to the passenger's side of the car. "What up, trick?"
"Sasha! Sasha, where are you?"
At the sound of her best friend's hysterical tone, the mother-of-two froze, confusion and fear settling over her. "I'm still with Joe," she answered. "Are you crying? What's wrong?"
"You have to come to the hospital."
"The hospital? Why? Are you okay, Pam?"
Pam cried harder. "They shot him!"
Something inside Sasha plummeted like an anvil. "What? They shot who? What happened, Pamela?"
"Ty...baby, Ty got shot!"
And with those three words, Sasha felt the world and everything around her disintegrate into a pile of dust. "Wh-what?!" she said, barely able to force the word out of her mouth.
"They said they found him bleedin' out a couple of blocks from your place. I don't know all the details but...oh Sasha, please get to the hospital now!"
The hand holding her phone had slipped down from her ear. Suddenly the world was spinning, much too fast. She couldn't breathe; her lungs seemed to have locked up, blocking all the air from circulating, and she had to place her hands on the hood of the SUV to steady herself. The three words rang over and over in her head.
Ty got shot...
Ty got shot...
Ty got shot...
"Oh god," she gasped, her vision blurred by tears, "Oh my god...Ty...my baby..."
With narrowed eyes, Joe climbed back out of the Range Rover and approached her. "Babe? Sasha, what's going on?" he asked, taking in her devastated expression. All of a sudden her legs buckled, and he bolted forwards, catching her before she hit the ground. "Sasha!" he exclaimed, the concern on his features converting into alarm. "What is it? What happened? Talk to me!"
But it was impossible to get anything out of her; her face was as white as a ghost, her entire body shook violently, and she kept crying and crying. Joe looked up to see her phone on the hood of the SUV; Pam was still on the line. He picked it up. "Pam? Pam, it's Joe...calm down, slow down, what happened...okay, which hospital are you at..." He managed to guide Sasha into the passenger seat and buckle her up before rushing back to his side. "Okay, we're in the car right now, we'll be there in ten minutes..."
She was in a nightmare; it was the only way she could explain why she was feeling like this, why none of it felt real. But the heaviness of her heart, accompanied by the sickeningly white, overly sterile odor of her surroundings only confirmed that it was not a figment of her warped imagination. Sasha's world currently consisted of nothing but the tears that didn't seem to run out, the raw, aching silences in between her gloomy thoughts and her sobs of anguish. She was all cried out; she had wept until her stomach was in knots and it was hard to breathe, but she had managed to finally calm down somehow, which left her with a numb void inside her chest where her heart used to be. Even with Joe's leather jacket over her, even with his big warm hand wrapped protectively around hers, they were not enough to keep away the cold that had gripped her entire being.
When she and Joe arrived at the hospital, T.K. was already undergoing surgery. Pam had been contacted by a friend of hers that worked in the accident and emergency wing of the hospital, whose nephew was T.K.'s basketball teammate and instantly recognized him when he was wheeled into the building. Sasha didn't know how long they had been sitting in the waiting area for, but it felt like years. On a brighter point, they were not alone. Jon Good was sitting in one of the chairs a few feet away. He appeared to be reading a magazine, but seeing as he hadn't turned a page in some time, it was clear his mind was also on T.K. Pam was on Sasha's other side, staring at her hands which trembled slightly, Elgin's arm was wrapped around her shoulders. Trinity and Jonny had shown up, with the female Superstar drawing Sasha and Pam into a hug each and whispering words of comfort in their ears. Colby who was out of town, kept calling and texting Joe for news about T.K. as well as doing his part to be there for his friend. The big man looked just as troubled as his girlfriend, and he kept watching her with concern. She seemed to be in a trance-like state; her eyes were bloodshot and unfocused staring at nothing in particular.
"When Ty and Mia were little, I would watch them sleep at night," she whispered, her tone flat and dull as she spoke. "That time we had just the one bedroom to sleep in that the three of us shared...Every night I would pray to the Lord, ask Him to please protect my babies, and watch them for me...because I couldn't do it on my own. I can't feed them or give them what they need. In the really bad times, before I got the job at the Grill, there were nights I'd go to bed hungry 'cause I knew they didn't get enough to eat all day...I feel so terrible. Like, how did I end up like this? How did I let this happen? I got one job, one job, to keep my babies out of harm's way and I can't even do that right." She shook her head, more tears falling down her cheeks.
Joe squeezed her hand gently. "Hey, hey, don't blame yourself for this. There was nothing you could have done. And you do more than most for the kids, everyone in here knows that. T.K.'s going to be fine, Sash. Quit beatin' yourself up."
Swallowing hard, Sasha wiped the tears from her eyes and blew out a breath. She felt sick from all the white surrounding her; the walls, the ceiling, the floor...She'd seen enough of it during Joe's own stay at the hospital, and more sadly, during Pam's mother Irene's short, unsuccessful battle with cancer several years ago. Thinking about all of it made her feel sick. "I need some air," she blurted out.
"Need me to come with you?" Joe questioned, his hand still in hers as she stood up. Sasha smiled weakly at him and shook her head. "No, it's okay. I'll be right back." Squeezing his hand, she walked off down the hall, giving Pam a reassuring smile when the pregnant woman stared after her with concern. It felt like the walls were closing in on her and if she sat still for any longer she would probably lose it. She found a restroom and cleaned up her face, washing away the messy traces of her crying. Her feet ached a little, causing her to wince slightly as she walked, and she remembered she was not wearing her most comfortable heels. She wished she had a change of footwear.
Look at you, thinkin' about shoes while your son is in a room somewhere fighting for his life, her inner voice chastised her, and she had to choke back a sob of guilt. Emerging from the bathroom, she made her way back down the hallway, slowing down as a pair of familiar figures neared her. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. Oh God, not these two. These were the absolute last two people on the planet that she wanted to see right now.
Desiree sucked her teeth angrily. "Baby, what is this trick doin' here?" she demanded, turning to her husband for answers. To his credit, Tyson looked as happy to see Sasha as she did to see him.
Sasha shook her head and put up a hand warningly. "Don't. Not tonight, alright?" she snapped.
"Whatever. Look what my boo-boo got me," Desiree announced happily, pressing her bosom with both hands, which suddenly looked much more enhanced than they normally were. Realization sank in, and Sasha almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it. Tyson couldn't spare ten dollars for his son but he had no problem spending thousands on implants that his wife did not need. It was obviously some sort of attempt to buy her off and judging from the look on his face, her guess was somewhat correct. She turned away to leave. She didn't think she could stomach these two in the state of mind she was in.
"What'chu doin' here anyways?" Tyson frowned at Sasha.
Desiree shot her husband a strange look. "What do you care?"
Sasha's eyes cut to her ex, conflicted as to whether to tell him or not. He was a piece of shit but he was still her son's father. "Tyson got shot on his way home," she whispered reluctantly.
With the smile that stretched across Desiree's face, someone would have thought she'd just won a million dollars. "Shot huh? Oh, he one of them dope boys, ain't he?" She burst out laughing and turned gleefully to Tyson. "See baby? I told you that boy ain't good for shit. Now you ain't gotta worry about him no more."
Sasha glared at the woman, listening to her trash her son, and within her, she felt the last modicum of sanity she possessed abruptly snap.
Desiree kept on yakking, oblivious to the hell she had just unleashed upon herself. "And if your nappy ass think my husband gonna pay for his funeral, then you done lost your mind-"
WHAP! Sasha's open palm crashed into Desiree's face. The force of the slap sent her reeling backwards, but Sasha was not done. Wrapping her hands around the younger woman's throat, she threw her back-first into the wall, sending her crashing to the floor. She dropped to the ground, drove her knee into Desiree's back to pin her down, and smashed her fists repeatedly into the back of her head.
"He ain't dead, you fuckin' bitch!" Sasha screamed maniacally, punching and pulling and yanking and clawing. Desiree wailed and screamed in pain and did her best to fight back, but Sasha was a woman on a mission. Someone was shouting her name, but the mother of two could not hear any of it, nor would she have done anything different if she could. All she wanted to do was rip something apart, to scratch and tear and destroy and make someone feel the pain she was currently feeling. And face it; this bitch had this coming for a damn long time...
"Sasha stop!"
Someone yanked her off of Desiree, restraining her before she could inflict any more damage. Sasha struggled to free herself but the person's hold was strong. Through the veneer of rage surrounding her, she heard Trinity's voice pleading in her ear, her arm wrapped around her middle. "Calm down Sash. Leave it. Let it go," she was saying.
"Run your mouth now, huh bitch!" Sasha raged at her nemesis, "Open your fuckin' mouth now, see if I don't knock your fuckin' teeth out!"
Tyson and Jonny were helping up a wailing Desiree, who was bleeding from the nose and mouth. Sasha's struggling finally subsided, but she ripped away from Trinity, turning and bolting down the other end of the hall in tears. Pam went after her, and Joe knew he should have done the same, but instead he got right in Tyson's face. "What did you and your bitch wife say to her?" he snarled, having to be pulled back several steps by Jon.
A nurse had rushed over, quelling the chaos with her warning that they would all be thrown out of the hospital if they did not behave. Joe returned his attention to Tyson and Desiree, and both had the decency to shrink under the Samoan's toxic glare. "Y'all better get your asses gone or I'ma give you both a real reason to be here," he threatened.
The couple didn't need to be told twice, scurrying away as quickly as they could. Moving away from Jon, Joe looked around. "Where is she?"
Elgin pointed in the direction of the hallway, and he went off in search of his girlfriend. The sounds of crying echoing off the walls directed him to the stairwell where Sasha sat with her head buried between her knees, her shoulders shaking from her sobs. Pam sat next to her, an arm around her. The pregnant woman looked up at Joe with sad eyes, her own face wet. The Samoan helped her up gently, placing a comforting arm around her. "Thanks Pam, I got this," he told her gently, guiding her towards the door so she could return to her fiancé. He assumed the seat Pam had occupied on the staircase and gathered Sasha into his arms. "Nani...baby, I'm sorry."
Sasha shook her head, her face crumpled in abject misery. "He can't die," she cried, her voice thick with tears. "I can't, I don't know what I'll do...Please God, I can't lose him-"
"Stop thinking like that. T.K.'s not going anywhere, alright? He'll make it through this. He's gonna be okay."
"What am I gonna tell Mia?"
"You'll cross that bridge when you get to it. You focus on T.K. for now, okay? He's going to need you when he gets out of surgery," said Joe, rubbing her back as she continued to cry into his shoulder. Seeing her so broken hurt his heart, and he knew he had to do something.
Taking out his phone, he dialed a number. "Stephanie, hi," he spoke into the phone a few moments later, one arm still around Sasha. "I'm good thank you. I hope this is not a bad time...yeah, I know...um, I know you guys needed me to come in this week but I'm afraid I won't be able to make it...yeah, I have a family emergency, my girlfriend's son is in the hospital...yes, it's serious...It just came up, we're in the hospital right now. We don't have all the details at the moment but once we do that I'll get back to you. But for now, I can't fly out, I'm really sorry...okay, alright, I'll keep you updated...thanks for understanding, I really appreciate it. Thanks. I will. You have a good night."
Sasha looked on in dismay as he ended the phone call. "Please don't tell me that's the Stephanie I think it is."
Joe sighed. "It is. She sends her regards, by the way."
"You shouldn't have done that. That's your job. They need you."
"Right now you need me more," he answered simply.
"But baby-"
He shushed her with his finger over her lips. "I'm not going anywhere, Sasha. I'm not leaving you to handle this on your own." He kissed her forehead. "Do not argue with me. I'm staying. Case closed."
Secretly she was glad he was. She didn't know how to handle this on her own either. Fresh tears filling her eyes, she buried her face in his shoulder and whispered, "Thank you."
"Anything for my queen." Joe stroked her hair, placing another kiss on her head. "T will make it out of this just fine, baby girl," he assured her. "He's a tough kid, just like his Mama. Remind me not to get on your bad side though." He grinned down at her, pride shining in his ash-colored irises. "Damn, girl. You vicious as fuck."
Despite her current state, Sasha found herself laughing a little at the comment. She wished she hadn't lost her cool like that but what was done was done. For a few moments the couple sat together in the enclosure of the stairwell, holding each other, before Joe roused her. "Come on, let's go back to the waiting room. The others will be worried. And I'm sure the Doctors will be out any minute."
'Any minute' dragged on for an extra couple of hours. Finally, there was a soft creak of hinges as one of the double doors swung open, and the ER physician, a middle-aged man in his early forties, stepped out. All the occupants of the waiting room snapped to attention, rising to their feet in anticipation. The doctor swept his gaze over all of them before falling back down to his clipboard. "Tyson Morgan?" he asked.
Sasha quickly rushed forward, almost knocking over the Doctor in her eagerness for news on her son. "I'm his mother. H-how is he?" Her knees were shaking with dread but she refused to prepare for the worst; she would accept nothing less than good news.
"Mrs. Morgan," he said to Sasha, who was too worried to correct him, "We've managed to get the bullet out of his back and stop the bleeding. We also had to treat him for a mild concussion, as he hit his head on the concrete ground when he was struck. The bullet missed his spinal cord by half an inch. A miracle, really."
"So he's going to be okay?" Joe asked.
The Doctor nodded. "Yes, he's going to be just fine, which is remarkable considering he'd lost so much blood by the time he came in. There are no worries of any grave injury or paralysis. Honestly, he is a very lucky young man."
The relief that washed over Sasha was so overwhelming that she began to cry, unable to do anything else. Joe held her close and kissed the top of her head. The Doctor simply stood by with a smile.
"Can I see him?" Sasha asked the Doctor, having managed to compose herself.
"Well, he's in recovery at the moment but we'll be moving him into the ICU in a couple of minutes. I'll come get you once we're ready."
"Thank you, Doctor. Thank you so much."
The Doctor smiled kindly at her. "You're welcome." He left, just as Pam came over and threw her arms around Sasha, overjoyed by the positive news.
Several minutes later the Doctor returned, and Sasha followed him through the double doors and down a long hall, halting outside a recovery room. He turned the handle on the door and motioned Sasha into the room, closing it quietly behind him to give the mother and son some privacy.
Sasha didn't even register the sound of the door shutting. The moment she walked inside the room, all of her focus had been drawn to her son, lying on the hospital bed. Seeing him like that made Sasha feel more terrible and helpless, and she couldn't stop tears from stinging her eyes.
T.K.'s head slowly turned, a tiny smile quirking his lips. "Mama," he croaked, his voice smaller and more hoarse than usual.
"Baby." She hurried to his side. Pulling a chair towards the bed to sit on it, she took his hand in both of hers and brought it to her lips. "How do you feel?"
"Like I've been shot," he quipped, releasing a short burst of laughter which abruptly stopped as he winced in pain. "Ow."
"Serves you right, 'cause that wasn't funny," Sasha chastised. T.K. smiled and continued. "My head hurts, and it kinda hurts to breathe. I think the Doc said they've pumped me up with some pain meds so forgive me in advance if I fall asleep on you." His tiny smile disappeared. "Mama, I'm so sorry..."
From there, he proceeded to tell her everything that had happened, at least what he could remember before he'd blacked out. "I swear...I only went to return the money to Lamar, that's all I did," he vowed. "I couldn't spend it, couldn't bring myself to do anything with it...so I took it back to him. That was it, I promise."
Sasha reached over and stroked the side of his head that wasn't bandaged. "I know, I believe you baby. It's okay," she said reassuringly. None of that mattered now; all she cared about was he was alive. They could deal with whatever else later.
"Heard anything about Lamar?" T.K. asked, his tone anxious.
She shook her head. "No, baby. I haven't heard anything." Staring at him, seeing him in this state, caused emotion to well within her once more. "Oh Ty, I was so scared. What would I have done if you left me all alone on this earth? How would I survive without you? I couldn't."
"Yes you could," T.K. insisted quietly. "And you won't be alone. You'd still have Mia. And Joe too. I'd have wanted you to be with him and let him take care of the two of you."
Sasha didn't answer, at a loss for how to respond to that. T.K. smiled at her and gave her hand a tiny squeeze, the most he could do with his depleted strength. "He's a good dude, Ma. He really loves you," he told her.
She sniffled and nodded. "I know."
He stifled a yawn, smacking his lips tiredly, and closed his eyes. "When am I gettin' outta here?" he asked, his voice taking on a groggy tone.
"We haven't discussed that with the Doctor yet," said Sasha, carefully fluffing his pillow. "But I suspect they have to keep you here for a few more days to monitor your concussion. I don't think you're going anywhere soon so you just focus on getting better." When he didn't answer, she looked at him and saw that he'd drifted off to sleep. The pain meds must have kicked in. She didn't mind; he needed his rest. Rubbing his arm affectionately, Sasha pressed her lips to his hand and cried some more, thanking the Lord over and over for saving her boy.
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Thoughts?