A Kiss To Send Us Off

Chapter 4

Amelia watched the clock, hoping there were no emergencies, and counted down the minutes until she could race to Saint Thomas. Juice wasn't present at the trial, despite being one of the defendants, but since they were released, he was transferred from her care. At exactly four, she popped up and raced to her locker, gathered her things, and sped out of the County parking lot.

Everything took forever; she had to search for a spot in the street, the elevator was slow, the halls were crowded but when Amelia arrived outside his door, she stopped. Her hands shook as she reached for the knob and stepped in quietly.

"Knock knock," she whispered. "Guess who's here, baby."

"Meels." Sitting up, excited but pained, Juice beamed as Amelia crossed the room toward him. "I can touch you now." There was such joy in the simplest of connections. Holding her head in his hands, Juice leaned his forehead against hers and gazed into her eyes.

"What is this some teenage romantic comedy?" She said kissing him with such force that he hit the bed with a thud. When he groaned, Amelia jumped back. "I'm sorry."

"You're fine." He grimaced. "It's gonna be worse when I get the fuck outta here."

"Oh it will," she said with a naughty grin. "I can't believe it's over. You're out and you are never going back in, JC."

He smiled but didn't say anything. There was always a chance they could all go away, for a long time, but he was sure Amelia was focusing on the positive. "Where do you want to go when I'm released?"

"We're still going?" Perched on the edge of his mattress, Amelia tangled her hands with his and as they spoke peppered his lips with tiny little kisses.

"Goddamn right we are. It's out honeymoon, baby. Remember, umbrella drinks on the beach?"

Amelia's eyes popped and she began to giggle. "Okay. The Bahamas?"

"Anywhere, I don't care, you pick."

Opening her mouth to speak again, Amelia was silenced by a knock at the door. "Expecting someone?"

"No." He sat up a little. "Doctors and shit don't knock either."

"Come in," Amelia called out.

"Look at the happy couple." Max was beaming as he stood at the foot of Juice's bed. "Glad to see you're back on this side, Juan Carlos."

Juice didn't speak or even smile; he just gave Amelia's hand a squeeze. "You should go, Max." She said with a newfound confidence.

"I'm here to mend fences." He said, his hands raised, palms open. "I missed my little girl's wedding."

"I'm not your little girl."

"Please, Amelia, Juan Carlos, let me make it up to both of you. I was wrong, I misjudged and I am terribly sorry for that."

Shaking her head without a bit of remorse Amelia pointed to the door. "You should go."

"Amelia, I-"

"My wife asked you to leave." Juice snapped. "So go. She won't ask again."

Biting his tongue, Max nodded and stepped backward toward the door. "Okay then."

Closing her eyes, Amelia climbed off the bed and followed him out to the hallway. "You have to understand," she said quietly.

"I do, which is why I apologized."

"I'm grateful for everything you did. You raised me well and gave me everything I needed but right now I need you to back off and let me be an adult. He's not an angel, I know, but I love him and he'd never hurt me or let me get hurt."

Max nodded and gave her a hug. "I'm not even talking about the club, Amelia. I'm talking about within your relationship. If he ever does, I want you to know you can come to me. I'm not saying he will," he stopped her protests before she could even speak. "But things happen, people get hurt or break up, and I will always be here for you."

--

After visiting hours were over Amelia trudged out sadly to her car. She didn't want to leave him but she scanned his chart and was confident he'd be home in the next day or two.

Unlocking the door she slipped in heard a crunch. "Shit." Lifting herself up, she pulled a piece of paper out from her seat. "How very little can be done under the spirit of fear." She read the note, clearly an actual quote from somewhere, in a low whisper, panic bubbling in her stomach. "Shit. What the fuck does that even mean?"

Folding the note, still rattled and suspicious, Amelia headed home, doubling back to be sure no one was following her. As soon as she got in she threw leftovers in the microwave and jumped on her computer.

"I love you, Google." She mumbled, typing the words in to the search bar. "Florence Nightingale."

The name was obvious to her and Amelia realized how she recognized the words at first. Florence Nightingale was a huge nursing pioneer and one of the most famous ones ever, so famous that she learned quite a bit about her in school. Now, knowing the original speaker, Amelia felt the note was work related and that terrified her even more.

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As I asked with Mae I'll ask with Amelia! You guys aren't tired of her and Juicy?! Hope not! Let me know! Xo