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Saving Dallas 2 Making the Cut(16)

By:Kim Jones


Marty’s room was located at the end of the hall in a corner. It was much bigger than the other rooms and I later found out that the club had requested a suite for him. I figured with all his visitors, it was probably the best move, considering half the club was still standing in the lobby. Luke pushed open the door, without a knock of warning, and I thought it was impossible to be any colder than it was in the hallway, but I was wrong. It was freezing in Marty’s room, yet he lay on the bed with only a thin sheet covering the bottom half of his body. His chest was bare and gleaming with sweat. I crossed my arms, trying to contain my body heat. Luke noticed my movement and handed me the hoodie. It was black, about five sizes too big and had a reaper on the front of it. It was warm and smelled of Luke and I found myself sniffing it. Loser.

Marty was sitting up slightly in the bed. The pillows behind him a tangled mess and the breathing machine beside him was humming. He had a mask over his face and looked to be in a lot of pain.

“Breathing exercise for his lungs,” Luke informed me from across the room. He had taken a seat in one of the chairs, and was flipping through a magazine. Marty turned his face towards me and held his finger up, asking me to give him a minute. I nodded and took a seat in the chair next to his bed.

Gatorade bottles littered the little table next to him along with a bucket for a sponge bath, some Mamba wrappers and a pack of sunflower seeds. His leg was held in the air by a cable that was attached to a bar that ran the length of the bed. A small weight dangled from his ankle and swung lightly with each deep breath he took. I turned my attention to the T.V. that was muted. I tried to pay attention, but all I could hear was the machines steady beep and Marty’s deep breaths and I found myself looking back over at him. His head was shaved almost bald and his green eyes looked tired. His right hand was bandaged and his arm was covered in scrapes. Even lying in a hospital bed, covered in bandages, he was still very handsome. I wondered if he had an ol’ lady.

My thoughts were interrupted when a nurse walked in.

“Ok hun, looking good. You will be out of here in no time. He is a trooper,” she said looking at me. Her long blonde hair was pulled to the front of her left shoulder, and her big blue eyes were warm and made me feel better, even though I wasn’t the patient. No wonder Marty was doing so good. “My name is Ashton and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. If y’all need anything just hit the call button,” she said this while removing the mask from Marty’s face, then turned and left.

“I should have said I needed a sponge bath,” Marty said hoarsely. He smiled at me and I got up and walked towards him. I couldn’t help it, as soon as I saw his face, tears welled up in my eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, tears flowing down my face and onto Luke’s hoodie. I felt like a train had hit me. He was here, all because of me. This was my fault and if ever I wanted revenge, it was now.

“Don’t,” Marty said, laying his injured hand on top of mine.

“I’m gonna step outside a minute,” Luke said from the door. I had not even noticed he got up. I could have kissed him at that moment for giving me this time, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of Marty.

“I want to tell you a story,” Marty said, holding my hand. I nodded my head at him, wiping my face on my long sleeves. “When I was twenty-three, I met this girl. She was beautiful, smart, kind, sweet… Everything I would want in a woman. I was nothing but a thug. I worked in a mechanic shop and hustled a little on the side, but she loved me. She was my good. My better. She deserved a life of happiness, one that I couldn’t give to her. I knew I would never be more than what I am, a man with grease on his best jeans and a Harley. I never thought to ask her what she wanted. I just pushed her away, assuming what I was doing was best for her. I broke her heart.” He seemed to be somewhere else and I started to offer words of encouragement, thinking he was finished, when he began speaking again. “What I done was selfish and un-fair. I should have asked her what she wanted. See, material items didn’t matter to her. She deserved a life of happiness and she had it, with me. No one could love her like I loved her. She came looking for me. She was hurt and scared and confused as to why I just stopped answering her calls and hanging around. I use to hustle on Friday nights in a bad area of town and out of desperation she went there looking for me. She was shot, twice in the chest by a group of gang bangers who mistook her for someone else. I have re-worked the scene a million times in my head wondering what-if. I asked God every day to give me an opportunity to make it up and he did when he gave me you. He gave me a chance to save someone to make up for the life that was lost on my behalf.”