CHAPTER NINE
I waited for three hours in the waiting room at the hospital before they let me see Grayson, and they only allowed it because I’d lied and said I was his cousin. I knew Beth, the nurse who was on duty, so she didn’t give me a hard time about coming onto the unit after visiting hours.
The psych ward at Washington Memorial was a locked unit. Visitors had to check in and out, and visiting hours were restricted. I had to leave all of my personal items in a locker before I was allowed in. I made my way down the white sterile halls, following Beth. My sneakers sang a dull echo on the worn linoleum, a sound that reverberated loudly in my head. Beth pushed opened the door to his room and gave me a sad smile.
“You have one hour,” she said before turning away.
“Thanks,” I tossed over my shoulder, already bounding toward the bed.
Grayson was still heavily sedated, but at least the restraints had been removed. I sat on the edge of the bed and took his large hand in mine, noting the moist chill of his skin. I inhaled a deep breath, centering the sharp anguish stabbing like knife blades through my belly. I’d had some time to calm my anger while waiting to see him, but now witnessing him like this flooded me with wrenching despair. His eyes were closed and his face appeared to be relaxed, but his muscles still jumped with involuntary twitches. The skin stretched across his countenance was flushed with blood and there was slight bruising at his wrists where he must have fought the restraints.
“Grayson?” I called softly and got no response.
Blinking back tears, I looked around the small, dark room, noting the almost total absence of furniture. Shadows enveloped the space, curling around Grayson’s limp body as if trying to steal him away from me. They dipped and tucked around him tightly, settling into the hollow of his cheeks and snuggling beneath his closed lids. He was a large man so he barely fit in the bed, and his ankles hung off the bottom of the mattress.
I called his name again, yet he remained unresponsive. An agonizing wail sounded in my head, loud and sorrowful at my impotence. Blowing out a long tremulous breath, I settled my head on his chest and listened to the steady drum of his heart. It reassured yet tormented me. I wanted him awake. I wanted to see his blue eyes and experience the thrill of his teasing smile. I wanted my Grayson. I wanted him well. I missed the solid feel of his arms around me.
“I love you, Grayson,” I whispered weakly. “I love you.”
I inhaled deeply, capturing his fragrance in my lungs, and let the tears come. I couldn’t believe I had more left.
Grayson was unconscious for three days. It was the result of whatever sedatives he’d received—and they’d probably given him enough to level a horse. That, combined with the effects of the antipsychotic medication he’d started taken, had knocked him out. I was concerned because when he finally opened his eyes, he remained silent. He refused to say a word. I wondered if in his own way, he was silently protesting his hospitalization.
Grayson didn’t make eye contact or respond to anything I said or did. It hurt my heart deeply to see him in this unnaturally passive state. He was a stubborn man who wasn’t easily managed. I worried about him being in the hospital where he had no control over his life or his environment.
I sat with him for hours, but his mind seemed a million miles away from his body and his spirit detached from his life. Maybe his mind had escaped from this place. Wherever Grayson had retreated to, I knew he wouldn’t truly feel safe until he was back in his house.
A few nights after his admission, I was working another night shift when Beth rang upstairs and asked for me. Immediately, I knew something was wrong. I didn’t bother to get on the phone. I asked another nurse to cover me and took my break early. I ran down to the psych ward, taking two steps at a time, and almost breaking my neck in the process. I changed quickly from my scrubs to regular street clothes. Hospital uniforms were not permitted on the psych unit. They freaked out some of the patients and caused them to distrust their caregivers, so all the staff and visitors wore regular clothing.
Beth was waiting and greeted me at the door of the ward. She quickly unlocked it and ushered me in. The look on her face sent streaks of icy panic down my back.
“Come with me,” she instructed, already shuffling quickly down the dark hall.
The unit was tormentingly quiet except for a rhythmic thumping that I could hear in the distance. As we walked down the hall, the sound grew louder. When we got to Grayson’s room, I realized it was the origin of the persistent thuds. Two large male orderlies stood outside the door. Their features were impassive, but their ominous presence shot another streak of foreboding through me. Beth nodded solemnly in their direction as we passed.
“I told them to wait,” she informed, pushing open the door.
I thanked her as I rushed in, but my feet froze suddenly when I saw Grayson. My stomach bottomed out and a cold sweat scattered goose bumps on my skin. Grayson was violently pummeling a wall. His large body strained and bulged as he repeatedly hammered his fists against the hard surface. I couldn’t tell if it was the pain of the blows or the thoughts wringing delusions from his brain that twisted his face in agony. A silent suffering wrung his beautiful features with harsh, sloppy lines.
What was going on in his head? Another nightmare with his eyes open? He was hurting himself. I could already see swelling bloat his hands and discolor the edges of his tightly curled fingers. He looked like he was trying desperately to break out, to shatter the unrelenting wall.
“Gra—Grayson!” I choked out, barely able to catch a breath. “Grayson!” I called louder as he continued to pound. He was someplace very far away, deaf to the sound of my voice.
Fear gripped my body with a strangling hold when he started slamming his forehead against the wall. I was certain he’d crack open his skull. I had to do something. I knew that at any moment the orderlies would burst in and overpower him. The thought of an impending battle churned acid in my empty stomach.
Not wanting to startle him, I took tentative steps toward his large frame, calling his name out as I approached. I reached out and placed my trembling hand on his shoulder and his body jerked hard beneath my touch. I’d never seen him like this. Usually when he had an episode, he was distraught, almost timid and afraid. He’d never done anything to hurt himself. He’d never been aggressive or destructive. This was not the right environment for Grayson. He was probably terrified here. I could see the terrible agony and vulnerability on his face.
“Grayson, please stop,” I whispered, trying desperately to hold back my tears. “Please…”
He continued to hammer his head, his movements becoming more frenzied. His wild hair whipped to and fro. I tried to pull him away from the wall, but I couldn’t budge his taut body. He was as rooted as a giant oak and just as solid. Helpless and at a loss, I sealed the front of my body to his back and slipped my arms around his waist, resting my head between his rippling shoulder blades. Our sandwiched bodies moved as one kinetic force. Every blow ricocheted through me, bashing my hope and depleting more of my strength. I squeezed my eye shut and held on tight.
Just then, the door pushed open and Beth entered, carrying a large syringe topped with a ferocious looking needle. The orderlies followed her in, poised to intervene. I raised a palm, stopping them, my heart turning violently in my chest. The last time Grayson had been sedated, he’d been unconscious for days, and it seemed his condition had taken giant leaps backwards. But we couldn't let him injure himself.
“Grayson, please. I can’t stand to see you hurt. Please stop… this… this is killing me.” I hiccupped behind him, my tears flowing freely now, drenching my face and the back of his shirt.
Abruptly, he halted. His body vibrated in my arms as he turned and grabbed my shoulders roughly. He stared into my eyes, his blue gaze sharp and penetrating as his fingers dug into my flesh. He had the look of a wild animal. I wasn’t afraid. I could never be afraid of Grayson.
“It’s me, Grayson. It’s Angie. I’m on your side.”
It was as though a dam had shattered inside him. His muscles loosened and tension poured out of him. He pulled me roughly against him, clutching my body like a drowning man clinging to drifting wood. His breath was harsh in my ear, but the sound was like the collective rush of angels. I clung to him, thanking God. My fingers laced through his hair and I fisted the damp silky strands. His body was trembling, his weight tremendous against me. I turned to the concerned faces at the door.
“He’s fine now,” I breathe. “Really. Please, don’t. He doesn't need that,” I whispered to Beth, my gaze landing on the sharp needle.
After a moment’s hesitation, Beth nodded and signaled the two men to follow her out of the room.
“They’ll be right outside,” she informed, and I turned away.
Grayson sank to the floor, dragging me down with him. I held on to him as he cradled me in his lap. Despite the previous events, a flicker of hope kindled inside me. This was the first time he’d made eye contact with me since he’d been in the hospital.
“Grayson, please speak to me.”
Eternal silence wrapped around us. I looked into vapid blue eyes that seemed to see right through me.
Sighing, I examined his hands, making sure that no bones were broken, and I tunneled my fingers through his disheveled hair. There was a spot of mild swelling on his forehead, but it didn’t look as though he’d done any serious damage.
He stared straight over my head into the darkness, his eyes haunted and his body rocking us to a melody that only he could hear.
Though I sat with Grayson every day, he still didn't acknowledged my presence. He was buried deep inside himself, shut away from the outside world. During my daily visits, I brought books in and read to him. I rambled on and on about work and school. Knowing his personality and sense of humor, I tried teasing and joking with him. I got nothing but his gravid indifference. He remained in his self-induced catatonia, staring silently into the distance.
It was extremely painful for me to see him like this day after day, knowing the man he really was. I tried not to unleash my despondent tears in his presence, but my heartbreak was renewed each time I saw him. I never saw Charles. As much as he claimed to want to help his father, the bastard never visited once.
There was a small solarium in the psych ward for patients to visit and sit in the sun. I asked Beth if I could take him there. It was relatively quiet since most of the patients chose to spend time in the rec room watching television. She gave consent, but Grayson needed clothes. He only had the one outfit he’d been brought to the ER in and had been mostly wearing hospital issued garments.
I wanted to go to the house to collect some of his clothes for him, but I didn’t know if my security code would still work. After my confrontation with Charles, I seriously doubted it would. I also thought about bringing other items from the house. I knew he felt safe at home, and wondered if familiar objects might help jolt him out of this clinging stupor.
Determined to get him out of his stuffy room, I decided to stop by the house one day after class. I walked up to the gate and keyed in my code. It didn’t work. I cursed Charles six ways till Sunday and added a few more days for the asshole that he was.
Disappointed, I was about to turn away, when I saw a woman emerge from the house, walking toward the gate. I was more than a bit surprised to see her and wondered what she was doing there. I’d never seen her before. She was an older woman in a tailored skirt suit. She was holding a clipboard to her chest. She shot me a friendly smile as she approached the gate, now noticing me.
“Hi, I used to work in this house, cleaning. I think I may have left some of my things inside,” I said, hoping she’d let me in for a minute.
She walked through the gate and offered me a sympathetic look.
“Sorry, anything you’d left has probably been thrown out. The house is being cleaned out. Contractors are coming to give an estimate on the work next week.” She turned back and looked at the house. “It’s a great house. Too bad it was in such shitty condition.”
“Yeah, it was falling apart,” I agreed, chewing my lip. I wasn’t surprised that Charles had expedited the repairs.
“Hopefully, it will be ready to go on the market by the end of the summer.”
The breath stilled in my lungs. “Go on the market?”
She turned back to me. “Yep. It’s going up for sale. It should have been done already, but we kept running into snags. There’s already an offer, but it’s a gorgeous house. There should be a lot of interest.” Her smile widened. “That always drives the offers up.”
I nodded, but shock was ringing through me. How could Charles sell Grayson’s house?
“I’m sorry, but if you need to get in to check for your things, you’ll have to go through the owner, but I doubt that anything is still there,” she said as she walked off.
I hardly heard what she was saying as she left. My mind was doing backward flips and summersaults. Something she’d said struck a chord. Then it dawned on me. Charles had said the same thing, that he was hoping the house would be ready by the end of the summer. My stomach plummeted with realization.
Oh, God! He’d been planning to sell the house the entire time. That’s why he was having it cleaned out. That fucking rat! He hadn’t been the least bit concerned about his father or interested in having him live in safer or better conditions. That had all just been bullshit.
Grayson—dear God, Grayson! He’d known what his son was up to. That’s probably why he’d run off all the other cleaning people. Those ‘delusions’ of his hadn’t been totally without merit. His fear of Charles taking away the house had been based in fact. I’d just chocked up his behavior and fears to his schizophrenic paranoia, but Grayson had had every right to be worried. He knew his son better than anyone else.
The taste of bile rose in my throat. I couldn’t believe that Charles would do this. That house meant everything to his father and I’m sure he was well aware of Grayson’s attachment. But, how could he sell it? Hadn’t Jack said that the house belonged to Grayson?
My thoughts rambled as I started the route home to my apartment, confusion and despair weaving a thick layer of outrage in my head. I didn’t know how I could help Grayson, but I knew that I couldn’t let this happen. I had to think of something.
My day got infinitely worse when I got a call from my dad that evening. I was bringing a load of laundry into my apartment when Jenny told me that my cell phone had rung a few times while I was gone. I watched her slip on her shoes. She was dressed up for a night on the town. Tonight was the Maroon 5 concert. I’d given away my ticket. There was no way I could attend a concert while Grayson was in the hospital. I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy a minute of it.
I’d forgotten to take my phone with me to the laundry room downstairs. Just as I headed toward my bedroom, I heard my ringtone. Worried it was the hospital, I dropped the basket and ran to my room, closing the door behind me.
“Hello?”
“Angie? It’s dad.”
“What’s up?” I asked, my heart rate slowing.
“Tell Anna I can pick her up tonight. She doesn’t have to take the train home again.”
I frowned, confused. What the hell was he talking about?
“What?”
“Tell her she doesn’t have to take the train. I can be there by eight. It’s really nice to see the two of you getting along so well. I think spending all this time together has been good. Anna’s never been happier. She’s thrilled to spend so much time with her big sister.”My head almost exploded. Oh my fucking God!
“I hope her spending the night over there hasn’t been a problem. I know you have a roommate.”
I hadn’t seen Anna since the day after Kim and Diane’s party. The lying witch! I was going to kill her.
“No, it’s no problem at all. Uh, Dad, I have to go. See you at eight.”
I clicked off the phone, my head pulsing like a drum. I couldn’t believe my sister had been sneaking around and lying to my parents! I couldn’t believe she’d lied to me and used me as her alibi. This was a whole new level of deceit, even for her! She was in way over her head and too damn naive and impetuous to realize it.
I quickly hopped into my shoes and grabbed my jacket. I had a pretty good idea where the witch was. I’d bet this whole ruse had started the night of Kim and Diane’s party. She’d snuck out to meet up with Charles. I couldn’t believe that I’d fallen for her bullshit excuse about helping the girls clean up that morning. How could I be so stupid? How could she be so stupid? That boy was evil on a stick, the devil in designer jeans! I wanted to fucking scream.
I got to Charles’ building in less than ten minutes. Rudy, thank God, was at the front desk.
“He’s expecting me,” I said, shooting him a wink and hurrying past.
We shared a sympathetic look, but he didn’t stop me. It seemed that Charles wasn’t his favorite person, either.
I banged on the door when I got upstairs and it took longer than I’d expected for him to open it. Shock registered on his face at seeing me, followed by an arrogant tilt of his lips.
“Well, well, I see you’ve changed your mind.” He smiled slowly.
Ugh! Eew! I shuddered, repulsed. I wanted to slap the smug look off his damned face, preferably with a sledgehammer. Instead, I barged past him, walking into his apartment.
“I know she’s here!” I exclaimed, passing through the living room and stalking down the hall. I walked into the first room off to the right. “And there she is.”
My baby sister was sprawled out on Charles’ bed, naked as the day she was born. She saw me, and her entire body turned magenta with embarrassment and shock. She hopped up from the bed, clutching the sheet around her.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I yelled, although it seemed to be a rhetorical question at that moment.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her brown eyes round and wide.
“Anna! You lied! You don’t know this guy! He’s a total creep! You’re leaving here with me. Now!”
Her forehead wrinkled deeply, and I could see seventeen-year old defiance firming her lips.
“I’m not going anywhere!”
“Anna, he’s using you. He doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself.”
“He cares about me, Angie. He really likes me.”
“Are you nuts?” I yelled. “He doesn’t care about anyone but himself! This guy is evil! He’s fucking…Damien!”
Was she freaking kidding me? Hers were just another pair of panties that would be lost in this apartment. My heart squeezed with the abiding love I had for my sister because I could see she genuinely believed Charles cared for her.
“I’m not going with you. You’re not my mother!”
I was not in the mood. I straightened my back and skewered her with a lethally sharp gaze. I imagined horns suddenly spouting from my head, and I was pretty damn sure steam was shooting from my ears, too. “Get your fucking clothes on right this minute, you little liar, or I’m going to call Dad and tell him why you’ve been coming home with a smile on your face. He can pick you up from here.”
I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and started dialing. Her brown eyes splayed open with alarm.
“Wait!” she yelled. I watched her scramble to find her clothes and hop into them, spitting curses under her breath.
While she was getting dressed, I stalked back down the hall to Charles, my rage hot like a poker. He was casually lounging against his granite kitchen counter as if he hadn’t a care in the world. I walked right up to him.
“I shouldn’t even waste my breath on you, you motherfucker. But Karma is a bitch, and one day she’s going to come knocking on your door.”
He quirked a brow. “I’m sure I’ll invite her in. And I’ll probably fuck her, too.”
“Asshole!” I spat out, appalled by his absolute lack of contrition.
“Soon to be an even wealthier asshole,” he returned smugly. “Maybe I might interest you then.”
“Never! And if you come near my sister again, you’ll be sorry.”
“I guess you could say we’re even. Since I couldn’t have you, she was almost as good.” He smiled his baby shark smile and lowered his voice. “Though I imagined she were you each time I fucked her.”
I smacked his smug face, the sound crisp and loud in my ears. The sting felt good against my palm, but I was still fuming. He winced mildly, then actually gave me that stupid boyish pout where he plumped out his bottom lip. Was he for real? He was a total psychopath.
I heard a whimper and turned to find Anna standing in shock behind me, tears swimming in her eyes. She’d obviously overheard the exchange. My heart ached deeply for her. I wanted to cry with her—for her. What a fucking mess! I grabbed her arm and jerked her behind me, rushing out of the apartment.
Anna was a wreck. I spent the rest of the evening trying to console her. She’d given her virginity to Charles—that unworthy asshole, and I couldn’t help feeling guilty for the way events had turned out. He’d used her. She’d never have met him had it not been for me. Together, we mourned the loss of her innocence.
Although, the way that my sister had always behaved, I knew it wouldn’t have been long before she lost her virginity. I’d tried to warn her, to protect her, but she hadn’t listened. This had been a cruel lesson, one I sincerely hoped would help her make better choices in the future. They’d at least used condoms, she’d told me, and I was happy I’d decided to include them with her birthday present.