Chapter Twenty-three
Ryder
It took a while to realize I wasn’t dead. The IV of blood in my arm was a dead giveaway, no pun intended. The dead didn’t need blood.
“You gave me a heart attack, dude. Welcome back, hero. Now, can I finally ask what the hell it was you were doing?”
Looking over, I saw Dave sitting on a chair against the wall. The TV was tuned to sports. One basketball team was dominating the other, 15-0.
I chuckled. “Layla’s got one hell of a past.”
He sat back and laughed. “You don’t say?”
“How is she, by the way? Is she okay?” My chest tightened. If anything had happened to her…
Dave smiled. “Calm down, she’s fine. She hasn’t said anything, aside from asking me to check on you. Literally not another word. The cops questioned her friends and got their stories. But she isn’t talking.”
“I need to go see her!” I exclaimed, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Dave was on his feet in an instant and gently put his hands on my shoulders.
“Not now. You’re hooked up to, like, every monitor known to man right now. Just wait for a bit. I’ll get a nurse and they can clear you for walking. Then we’ll go see her.”
“No, I want to see her right now!” I insisted, fighting his grip.
“Nurse! Can we get a sedative, please?” he called as he restrained me as best he could without hurting me. Logically, I knew I should stop but apparently, I wasn’t up for being rational at the moment.
A female nurse rushed in, followed quickly by a male nurse. “Is he on anything that you know of?”
Dave stepped away so the nurses could do their jobs. He pulled my bottle of prescription pills out of his pocket. “No, but he takes meds for Borderline Personality Disorder. He hasn’t taken them today, and probably yesterday either.”
“Ryder, when did you take your last dose?” the male nurse asked as he gently but forcefully eased me back into bed.
I thought for a moment. The last few days were fuzzy and mostly a blur of pain. “Um, what’s the date?”
“It’s the 20th,” the female nurse answered.
“Crap, I missed…” My brain felt foggy, probably a side effect of missing my meds. Massive blood loss probably played a part too, now that I thought about it. I resorted to counting on my fingers. “Four doses. I took my morning dose, but then…I intentionally skipped the dose that night, then…Can I see Layla, please?”
My mind was all over the place. One minute I was thinking about my pills, and then the next minute I was thinking about Layla, and then about cheeseburgers. God, what I wouldn’t give for a cheeseburger.
“Can I see the bottle?” the female nurse asked. Dave handed her my meds. She read the information on the front, wrote it down on a prescription pad, and handed the bottle back to Dave. Tearing off the piece of paper, she put it in her pocket. “Max, I’ll be right back. Do not give him the meds in that bottle, Dave. For legal reasons, I need to give him a pill from the pharmacy.”
“Okay,” Dave replied.
“Ryder,” she said in a soft voice, “my name is Carla. You stay in that bed, okay?”
I nodded. Carla sounded like a mother. I thought it would be in my best interest to listen to her.
Dave’s phone rang. “It’s Rachel. Again.”
“Why is she calling you?” I asked.
“Cuz no one knows where your phone is, dude. Should I answer it?”
“Depends on what she wants,”
He laughed. “She wants to know you’re alive, you idiot. What, you get shot and you don’t expect the hospital to contact anyone? They got the information off your files.”
I sighed. “Pick up but say I’m asleep. Alive but asleep.”
He gave me a thumbs-up as he hit answer and put the phone to his ear. He waited for her to finish talking. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but she sounded panicked. I wanted to tell her not to worry. That she should never worry about me. That I would be better off dead so she wouldn’t have to.
“He’s fine, Rach. I promise.”
She sounded like she had switched to yelling.
“He’s asleep?” Dave gave me a sheepish look.
Suddenly, I heard her loud and clear. “Then fucking wake him up! If he’s fine, he can talk. After five fucking years of him not answering my texts, the first thing I get is a call saying he’s in the hospital and that he’s been shot! I deserve a fucking answer this time!”
Dave looked at me questioningly. I shook my head firmly. “What-was- oh god, Rach…you’re…up. Sorry, call…ck later.”
“Bullsh-”
He quickly hit the button to end the call. “She might just put you back here.”
I gulped. “I know.”
“What are you going to do about that?”
Shrugging, I fell back on my pillow. “I have no idea.”
“You can’t leave her hanging. She’s family.”
“I know.” I repeated. “I just need a bit more time. How did she get your number anyway?”
He smiled. “You friended me on Facebook and we always post pics from parties we go to so she knows we’re good friends. My number’s on there.”
I groaned. “She’s too smart for her own good.”
“Yeah. Cute too.”
I chuckled but I was serious. “You know you touch her, you’re dead.”
“Of course.” Dave grinned. “I’m hungry. Want anything from the cafeteria?”
“Two cheeseburgers, if they have any. Or ham sandwiches.”
“Anything meat, got it.” He left the room just as the nurse was coming in with a paper cup. Inside it was the exact same pill I took every day.
“Hungry?” she asked. “As you know, you should take this with food.”
“Dave’s getting food,” I said. Taking the cup from her, I swallowed the pill and washed it down with a cup of water she held in her other hand. “Sorry for earlier. If I don’t take my meds, I can be pretty irrational.”
She smiled. “You’re just worried about your friend. She’s doing fine. Just a minor concussion.”
“Concussion? He hurt her?!” I exclaimed. If the bastard wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him.
“Ryder, calm down. She’ll be fine. Concussions are easy enough to heal from. She just needs rest. The good news is her heart is fine. With so much stress, it was a little fast, but we monitored it and she’s fine.”
“Then why can’t I see her?”
“Because you can’t walk around while being given blood.”
I glared at the tube in my arm. “Can you rip it out if I ask? I am an adult.”
“No, I’m afraid not. But tell you what, it’s nearly done. So tomorrow, if everything goes well, I can let you walk around a bit.”
I sighed. This was going to be a long wait.
Dave came back with two BLTs for me and a turkey wrap for himself a few minutes after the male nurse left. Carla had come back to check my vitals. I barely remembered to say thank you before taking a huge bite of my food. It was the best sandwich I’d ever had.
“Good. Your appetite seems to be good. That’s always a good sign,” Carla said.
Dave laughed. “Oh, believe me. Ryder could be dying and he’d still wolf down two cheeseburgers and a large fry!”
She chuckled. “Well, if you did, you’d be the first. I have to go, but I’ll check on you before I leave my shift, all right?”
“Thanks, Carla,” I said in between bites. “Anything on TV?”
After some debate on the limited channels, we decided on an old, crappy sci-fi flick from the 60’s. It provided more than a few cheesy laughs. After it was over, Dave had to leave. Visiting hours were over.
He smiled. “Anything I can bring you tomorrow?”
“Nah, I’m good but thanks.”
After he left, I felt very alone. I was worried about Layla and wished I could see her. Or maybe she could come see me. My wound itched. Getting shot was stupid. I hadn’t thought that through. I probably could have just pushed her out of the way. I was glad I’d gotten shot instead of Layla, though.
An hour later, Carla come to say goodbye and she took the blood transfusion IV out. The IV of meds was still in my arm. I sighed and listened to the foreign sounds of the hospital until I fell asleep.
When I went into Layla’s room the next day, she was sitting up and staring out the window. I pulled a chair a little closer to the bed and sat down without saying a word. She finally looked at me and I was shocked. The circles under her eyes were darker and she looked like she hadn’t eaten since being admitted. Her eyes were hollow, like she was seeing something else when she looked at me.
“Layla, are you okay?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she grabbed an unused pad of paper and a pen off the small adjustable table beside her. She clicked the pen. I was thrilled she was communicating. The police had said she wasn’t talking to anyone and hadn’t made any attempt to communicate in days.
Quickly, she wrote something down and handed the notepad to me without looking at me.
I killed him
That was news to me. No wonder she was freaking out. I smiled gently. “Layla, it was self-defense. That bastard, he did terrible things to you, things I can’t even imagine. You were protecting yourself. You saved the other girls he was hurting. You also saved me. I owe you my life. If you hadn’t-”
A flash of fear crossed her face and she started shaking, hugging herself. Tears ran down her cheeks as she continued to shiver. I reached out to comfort her and she flinched. Withdrawing my hand, I tried not to take it personally. She had had a thing about touching when I met her. It wasn’t much of a surprise that it was back, given what had happened.
“Did he hurt you?” I asked. “After I got shot, what did he do to you?”
Layla started vehemently shaking her head. I was scared. She wouldn’t talk, she wouldn’t tell me what happened, and she wouldn’t even let me touch her. How could I help her?
“Hey, hey, okay, we won’t talk about that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Sweetheart. How about I get you something to eat? You look like you could use something in your stomach. How about some waffles? I’ll get you the happiest waffles in the whole hospital.”
Not even a smile.
I sighed. After a deep breath, she picked up the notebook again. Her hands were shaking as she wrote:
He can’t hurt me anymore.
The period in that statement spoke volumes.
“No, no one will ever hurt you again. I promise. I swear on my life that no one will ever touch you again if you don’t want them to.”
“Has she said anything?” A female police officer walked in. She smiled. “I’m Officer Keller. I’ve been assigned to Layla’s case.”
I shook her hand. “No, Layla hasn’t said anything, but she did write a couple of things. Layla, can I show her?” Layla nodded and handed me the pad. I passed it to Officer Keller. She glanced at both lines.
“We are aware of the situation. Kristen Alice filled us in on how Devin McDermott has treated you girls over the past few years. All five of the girls’ stories matched up with what she had stated, leading us to believe it as truth. Since that’s the case, we believe charges will be minimum.”
“Charges?” I exclaimed. “What charges? Layla was protecting everyone! We would be dead right now if she hadn’t killed him!”
“Mr. Daniels, please calm down. We understand that Layla’s actions were in self-defense, but the fact is the victim was stabbed exactly thirty-seven times.” Officer Keller said in a monotone voice. “That indicates rage, and, therefore, excessive force.”
“The bastard was trying to kill us! Excessive force was necessary!” My wound throbbed as anger swelled in my chest. I winced.
“In the eyes of the law, a statement is not enough. There will need to be a trial. Now, I won’t repeat myself again, please calm down or I will have you removed from the room.”
“I’m sorry.” I said, trying to relax. “We…we’ve been through a lot. It’s just frustrating to think someone would say we’re not telling the truth. We wouldn’t lie about something like this.”
“I understand. It can be frustrating and seem very insensitive. But it’s how the justice system works. However, if you’re absolutely honest, you have nothing to worry about.” She smiled. “Believe me, it will be okay. I understand how Layla feels.”
“You do?”
“Yes, when I was eleven I was swept up into a child prostitution ring. We needed the money and my father saw an opportunity to get his family out of the ghetto. I was the one who paid the price. Thankfully, I got in touch with a trusted adult when I was nineteen and I went back to school, got my GED, and went on to get a job putting away people like my father.” She told her story without flinching. That surprised me. “I promise you, Layla is in good hands, Ryder.”
“Th-thank you so much,” I stammered. Her story had taken me by surprise. She told it with passion. She obviously was extremely passionate about her job.
She smiled. “You’re very welcome.”
After another few days in the hospital, I was allowed to go home. The bullet hadn’t hit anything that wouldn’t heal on its own so I was given a prescription for painkillers and orders to take it easy. No heavy lifting for at least a few weeks so I’d get a vacation from the gym for a while. I wasn’t complaining for now. My stomach was sore enough that even the thought of lifting a two-hundred-and-twenty-pound dumbbell hurt.
Layla was staying in the local psych ward. She still wasn’t talking, but at least she was communicating through writing what she wanted to say in a notebook. Officer Keller had even gone out and bought her a special purple hardcover journal to write in for her own personal use. The journal was on Layla’s bed. She would be allowed to use it only after the trial was over. Officer Keller had told me it wasn’t uncommon for a person to become selectively mute after a mental trauma.
But that wasn’t why the state put her in a ward. The reason Layla was put in the psych ward was because she was considered a threat to others. I didn’t understand how. For the past six days, she’d been drinking water, but that was it. I’d be surprised if she could hurt anyone, much less get up out of bed fast enough to even hurt anyone. Regardless, she had to stay in the ward for three days.
I talked to her before she left. With tears in her eyes, and on the hospital notepad, she wrote, asking if she was allowed back at my house. I told her that of course she was. She could stay as long as she wanted. I was a bit disappointed when I didn’t get a hug good bye, but I had to remind myself that Layla wasn’t herself. It would take time until she was comfortable with even holding my hand. It was a bummer, but I had to be patient.
I was back on my meds again so hopefully my brain would hold off on exploding. I was tempted to go see Layla, but I knew she needed time. Smothering her wouldn’t do any good, and I could feel something was wrong with my mood. I was running on a short fuse these days.
Officer Keller gave me her number so I could call her if I needed to talk. I’d asked her about possibly finding Lilly. She said a small handmade teddy bear had been found and was being held as evidence but that she would see about getting it to Layla.
Seeing Layla happy again was my top priority.