Illusion

66 3 1
by BSamuals
by BSamuals
                                    
                                              “Could you at least wait until he’s discharged before you send him on a homicidal revenge mission?” Ian snapped at my cousin.
Sandy motioned to me in the hospital bed. “He’s fine. I’ve seen him go through worse.”
“He could have fucking brain damage!” my husband shot back, fear fueled rage adding a tremble to his voice. “Look, we appreciate you taking care of Franny, but I don’t need you pissing Mickey off over your fuck-up. If you wanted to help, you would’ve stopped it from happening in the first place.”
“It’s not that simple,” Sandy argued. “What was I supposed to do? There’s only one of me and three of them.”
“Call the cops?” he suggested with a shrug. “I dunno, Sandy. Fucking anything? You could have tried.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she groaned with sarcasm. “I should have shielded Mickey with my body instead of keeping your niece safe and looked after while you were off coked up on the South Side. Where the fuck were you, Ian? All you’ve done is sit here. If I were you, I’d kill those fuckers for this.”
“Why didn’t you?” he retorted.
My cousin’s glare screamed that Ian already knew the answer.
While they bickered back and forth, I was forced to shut my eyes again, nauseous with a migraine. Did they need to fight in my room? They were so loud. As for what they were fighting about, I was too fucked up to register what was really being said. It was exhausting trying to make sense of it, so instead, I focused on Franny still holding onto me for dear life.
Patting her on the back, I told her everything would be okay. 
“Well, we have to do something,” Sandy demanded. “We can’t let them get away with this shit or they’ll try again.”
Franny whimpered with dread.
“So, we call the cops, like you already fucking should have,” Ian replied.
Sandy let out a soft chuckle. “Wow. You really are a fucking idiot just like your sister.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Ian muttered before his attention was set back onto me. “What do you think, Mick?”
“About?” I wondered, dazed. I managed to open my eyes long enough to note the troubled, somewhat confused expressions on their faces.
“About last night, Mick,” Ian tried to assist me.
“What about it?”
Frustrated, Sandy stomped a few steps closer to me. “You were attacked!”
My mind was growing foggier by the minute. I knew she was telling the truth, but I wasn't angry. I just wanted to sleep.
She stared at me with wide eyes, waiting for my temper to explode. “Well?”
“Maybe we should let him rest?” Ian said. “Like we said we would before?”
Begrudgingly, my cousin agreed. I was in no shape to deal with my attacker. 
Still, I was curious. “So, who was it?”
“Don’t,” Ian pleaded with Sandy.
“He asked,” she told him before turning back to me. “Some of them were talking…I don’t remember how your name came up, but Joey, your brother, not our cousin, said he needed to finish what Terry started. Got some of the others riled up. I jumped in the car. I thought I could talk them out of it…I couldn’t. So, when you showed up with Franny, all I could do was get to her. I didn’t know if Joey would hurt her, so I got her out of there. And when they left, I called the ambulance.”
It made sense. Joey and I had always hated each other. Usually, I would have been vibrating with rage at this point. Some rage was there, but it wasn’t for Joey. I had failed. I failed as a guardian. I failed as a seasoned criminal. I let my guard down in the cushy West Side, and for that, I had been punished. What truly filled me with fury was that I had been dumb enough to let that guard down while caring for Franny. 
Joey was a lot like Terry in some of the worst ways. And he had almost gotten his grubby hands on our niece. I would never forgive myself for being so defenseless due to an illusion of safety, and I would never make the same mistake again.