Page 21 of Eternally Ginger

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Ginger

“Is she awake?” Ghoul asked, his eyes roaming over my body. I shook my head, pulling my feet up into the chair and against my body.

“Here.” He passed me a small styrofoam cup of coffee, sitting down in the chair beside me at Mom’s bedside.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Hazel?” he whisper-yelled at me and blew steam off his drink. It was an extremely rare occurrence when he used my first name and not the nickname he had given me. He was livid.

“I had to save my mom.”

“No shit. That’s why we are in fucking North Carolina. You could have died.”

“I didn’t, though.”

“No, but you could have,” he barked, scrubbing a hand up and down the length of his face. “I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you. You can’t do stupid shit like that. I’m too old for it.”

I laughed. “You’re not old, Chris.” I used his legal name since we were apparently doing that now.

He stared at me over his drink but chose not to argue the fact. “Why couldn’t you have waited for us to get back? We would have taken care of him. He is literally on a list the…” he glanced around Mom’s hospital room, “you know who gave us to kill. We had the green light to off the asshole.”

“The Bastards still ended up killing him,” I retorted, knowing that was precisely where Tin Man, Sac, and Wily were. I thought I murdered him, but he was still breathing after all. He was like a cockroach that had been stepped on.

“Not my point.”

I sighed, taking a sip of the warm coffee and letting it soothe my throat. “I knew if I waited on you, you wouldn’t let me come along.”

“Why was it so fucking important that you had to risk your life? Were you trying to prove something?”

I shrugged, not really having an answer for him. “I think I needed to save her to save myself.”

His focus shot to the ceiling as he breathed deeply. “Why can’t you be like a normal woman who habitually shops or drinks to forget her worries?” His head rolled, and he faced me. “When I thought something happened to you, it felt like I was dying. I had no clue where you were or if you were alive. If you run off by yourself, chasing these assholes, I’m powerless. I can’t protect you.”

Why was he so unforgiving yet pushing the issue? I got it. I shouldn’t have made it a solo mission. By doing so, both Mom and I could have been killed. The thing was, we were alive, and if I had waited for Ghoul, that might not have been the case. I refused to let myself consider the things Kenneth, whose real name I learned was Nicholas, would have done to Mom if given a chance.

“Why is this so important to you? We’re both alive.” I finished the last of my coffee and set the cup on the bedside table, clasping my hands around my legs.

“Because, Ginger, I love you. Don’t you get that? I’ve never been so scared in all my life as I was when I thought you were gone,” he admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose after tossing his empty cup into the trashcan beside him.

“I love you, too.” I smiled softly and opened my hand for him to take. It was such a small gesture, but I didn’t need all the bells and whistles with him. It was nice to sit back and escape from the world with him.

* * *

Mom was going to be in a drug-induced coma for an unforeseeable number of days. I wanted to shake her body awake. I had so many questions that needed answers. I didn’t know if my name was really Hazel, but ever since that night in the cabin, it did not feel like it belonged to me. Every time it passed through someone’s lips, it was as if they spoke a foreign language I did not understand. The better part of the time, I did not respond until Ghoul or one of his brothers would say Ginger.

I was uncertain if people calling me Hazel would ever feel okay again, even if what Nicholas Kingsley had said wasn’t true. His toxic words had already poisoned the few good memories I had associated with the name. I couldn’t hear it without a chill traveling my spine, and it wouldn’t get better until Mom could clear things up for me. I was no longer Hazel Jane St. Clair and may never be again. However, there was one thing I would always be, eternally Ginger.

At first, I didn’t tell anyone what Nicholas declared, not even Ghoul. We needed to move forward and pull our lives from the hell-mouth, if just for a little while.

“Who was that?” I asked as Ghoul clicked the off button on our house phone.

He shrugged. “Some telemarketer looking for Hazel St. Clear.” He grinned. “If the fucker couldn’t at least pronounce your name correctly, he didn’t need to waste your time.”

“If it’s even my name,” I quietly murmured.

“What do you mean? Of course, it’s your name.” His bare feet padded across the floor until he was standing in front of me when I didn’t answer.

“Ginger?” he spoke my name with care, and his eyes softened. “What do you mean?” he repeated.

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