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Before: Like You Were Worried About Me or Something


Ashley

"Tell us exactly what happened," the officer with the kind eyes said, sinking into the seat across from me. We were sitting in a room just like you see in the movies. My hands rested on the table in front of me. A female cop paced by the door, not looking over at me.

I'd been in a holding cell overnight. I didn't know where they'd taken Zoey or Chris. I'd spent the last twelve hours with my back pressed against the wall, crying prayers for forgiveness for what I'd done to Nick. The weight of everything had begun it's descent on my shoulders, and I felt numb. I blinked up at the officer.

"Chris is my ex-husband," I said. The story seemed to big for words, seemed like I couldn't get it into my mouth to say outloud. "We got the marriage annulled the other day. Well our lawyers did."

The officer leaned back in his seat, staring at me.

"He abused me," I said.

The female officer glanced over.

"Back in California, he beat me, and I ran to my best friend. Nick. Nick kept me safe. But Chris killed his dog. Then Chris threatened Nick and I had the baby and Nick was there and Chris got arrested but he got released and he beat up Brian and Nick went to California because we were in Boston at Patrick's and Chris was in Boston and then we came here and the phone app told Chris where we were and he made me shoot Nick." It all came out in one long gasp of breath. My voice pinched as I spoke the story.

The female officer leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

The kind-eyed officer said, "We accessed the store's security tapes and we looked at footage from the produce department, where you shot Nick Carter, and at footage from the parking lot." He paused. "You had the gun in your purse."

"It was Nick's. He was licensed."

"Why was it in your purse?"

"He had it in the glove box in the car and I opened it and found it and the glove box wouldn't close, so I put it in my purse."

"You're not licensed."

"No sir."

"You clearly have been trained in shooting," the female cop intoned, "A casual analysis of the way you held the gun and the stance you took in the grocery store when aiming proves that much."

"One of the foster parents I had growing up was an officer in the military," I said.

"Why did you shoot Nick Carter?" she asked, descending on me like an eagle on prey.

"I didn't want to, Chris, my ex-husband, made me."

"How did he make you?" she asked. "He didn't pull the trigger."

"He had a gun aimed at my baby," I said, choking. "Under the blanket he covered her with, there was a gun. He was going to shoot her if I didn't shoot Nick."

"Why did he want Nick shot?"

"Because I love him," I said simply. "Because Nick made me happy in ways Chris could never do." Tears filled my eyes.

There was a knock at the door, and the female cop turned and opened it. "What?" she asked, "We're in the middle of questioning."

"Her lawyer's here."

The kind-eyed officer stood up. "Send him in," he said.

A moment later, Jason stepped through the door, carrying a briefcase. He put the briefcase down on the table. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner," he said, "I was in California. I had to catch a flight out." He popped open the briefcase and pulled out a thick folder. "I've been working with Miss. Jackson and Mr. Carter for quite some time. Especially Mr. Carter..." he paused. "We've been through a lot together." He turned to me and smiled sadly, then turned back to them.

Obviously Jason didn't know yet that it was me that had pulled the trigger. How could he possibly defend me if he knew that I was the one that had killed Nick? I wondered. Surely if he knew he would encourage them to throw me into a jail cell and dispose of the key. They'd tell him now and he'd change his mind, leave me there alone. I stared down at the table top, my stomach churning, waiting for the police officers to tell him, for him to storm out.

"I've just come from the hospital where Mr. Carter is being treated, and I have his written request that all charges against Ashley Jackson be dropped." Jason said, pulling papers out of the folder he held.

I looked up. "Nick is alive?"

Jason looked at me, "I just left his hospital room not even an hour ago," he said, nodding, "He's in critical condition, but he's stable."

The she-cop looked less than pleased that he was sharing that information with me.

Tears poured out of my eyes. I've never felt more thankful for anything in my entire life. I started sobbing. Relief poured through me like a tidal wave. "Please, I need to see him." I looked at the officers, then back up at Jason. "Please."




Nick

I did a lot of sleeping... a lot of dreaming. I fluttered between reality and dreams so seamlessly that I don't really remember what of the things that happened that week were dreams and what was reality. I don't remember a lot of it, I was on some pretty extreme medication for pain.

Which is why I thought I was hallucinating the first time I opened my eyes and Ashley was there. The sun came in through the window and lit her hair up like it was on fire. She was staring up at the TV, sitting in the chair beside the bed as I blinked at her. I reached out my hand to touch her and my fingers just got her hair. She turned, the light making the hues of red shimmer. "Nick," she said. Her voice sounded dreamy, sounded far away. I know it was in my head, the way she sounded. I smiled at her. She turned and grabbed hold of my hands in hers. "I'm here, honey," she said thickly. "I'm right here."

"I love you," I murmured. But I think it came out like oliver again.

I closed my eyes.

It felt like a blink to me. But when I opened them again, it must've been hours later because the light in the window was fading and Ashley had leaned down and rested her head on the mattress beside my arm, her breath moved against my shoulder. She was clutching my hand, our fingers laced together. She looked so peaceful...

I looked around the room and saw AJ's sweatshirt laying across another chair, though AJ was no where to be seen. Rochelle's purse was in the chair, too. But again, Rochelle was no where to be seen, either.

I looked back at Ashley.

Her eyelids fluttered, I know because I felt her lashes move against my skin. She shifted in her seat, stretching her back without moving her upper body, then slowly moved her head to look up at me, her eyes wide and wet like she might start crying. "Hey," she said thickly.

"Hey," I said back. My voice was coarse from lack of use.

"I'm so sorry," she choked. "He made me do it."

I nodded.

"Nick I was so scared. I thought --" she stopped. Her entire body shivered. "When you fell, I -- I thought you were --" She literally couldn't say the word dead.

I stared at her for a long moment.

"Jesus," I said, "You'd think you were worried about me or something."

Ashley burst into tears, her body shaking as the sobs came out of her. I waved my arms. "C'mere," I said, "I can't come to you, you gotta come to me." She moved so her torso was pressed against me carefully, and I wrapped my arms around her. "It ain't that easy to get rid of me," I said, "You're gonna hafta do a lot worse than shoot me, baby."

"I'll try harder next time," she joked, her voice constricted.

I smiled into her hair. "You better."

"Hey look who's awake," AJ's voice suddenly filled the room. I looked up from Ashley's hair, though she didn't move a muscle, just stayed leaning into my hug. AJ was carrying a banana popsicle.

Rochelle came up behind him with a blue popsicle. Her lips were discolored. She smiled. "About time you woke up again," she said.

"I'm laying here half dead and you guys go get popsicles?" I asked.

"They have bitchin' popsicles, man," AJ replied. "And the nurses hooked us up with inside info on where the free ones are." He sucked his popsicle into his mouth. "Besides, all you were doing was laying there it's not like we could sit and stare at you while you took your sweet ass time waking the hell up."

"My very articulate husband is trying to say that he needed a distraction because he was worried beside himself with grief," Rochelle said.

AJ moved Rochelle's purse and dropped into the chair beside my bed. "Or something similar to that which sounds less homosexual," he said, shrugging.

I rubbed Ashley's back gently and she pulled back, sitting up. Her eyes were blood shot. I had a big wet spot on the band that went around my chest, holding the pad in place. She didn't let go of my hand. She looked up at Rochelle, "Did you call to check on the girls?" she asked.

"They're both doing just fine," Rochelle replied.

"What?" I asked.

"Zoey and Ava are at your house," Rochelle replied. "Kevin and Kristin are watching them."

"Thanks to Jason," Ashley intoned. I looked at her in confusion. "I don't know how he did it, but he somehow managed to fix everything in, like, a week. I swear to God he's a mircle worker."

So I'd been in and out for over a week.

No wonder everyone looked relieved and worried and worn down.

"I guess I'm gonna hafta send him something better than a soap on a rope for Christmas this year," I muttered.

AJ looked up from his popsicle. "What the fuck is wrong with soap on a fucking rope?" he asked. "Personally I'd be stoked to get that."

"I'll send it to you instead then," I said.

Ashley suddenly kissed my hand. I looked over at her. Her eyes glistened. "You really are going to be okay," she said.

I laughed. "You're stuck with me babe."