2
GARETH
"Mr. Caxton!"
The voice was loud, yet inexplicably seemed so far away, as if it was echoing down a long tunnel to reach me. It was followed by a blast of searing pain in my skull that made me fear it was cracked open and my brain was spilling out as I was shaken roughly. Fuck me, it hurt so bad, and I was so damn cold too. My body was suddenly spinning until my back came to rest on something cold and hard that wasn't my bed. Why wasn't I in my bed?
"Holy fuck!"
The loud male voice sounded familiar now, but before I could place it, I felt a sudden pressure as someone pressed down firmly on my lower abdomen and lit my belly on fire. This pain was sharper, like hot jagged spikes stabbing into me and pushing out the other side. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before, so intense that I couldn't feel anything else now. I tried to curse, but only a low garbled moan escaped my mouth. I wanted to shove the hands away, but couldn't seem to move my arms enough to manage it. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? The voice started babbling about how much blood there was and something about an ambulance, but I slipped away into darkness again before I could figure out what he was talking about.
I came awake again as something abruptly yanked one of my eyelids open and a blinding light brought me back into a world ruled by pain. Then the same damn thing happened to my other eye.
"Pupils are even and reactive," I heard a strange voice say.
The light fell away and I tried to focus on something, anything, but everything was a indistinct blur. I could only make out shapes hovering over me and moving around. My head began to feel like it might explode again. Fuck that. I closed my eyes and happily slipped away yet again.
Then I was being lifted into the air, the abrupt motion waking me and making my head and my belly ignite into horrible god-awful pain. I was placed on something a hell of a lot softer than what I'd woken on, and a wave of disorientation hit me as everything began to move past me in a blurry unfocused nightmare. When I finally stopped moving, there were bright lights blasting down on me that felt like they were burning into my retinas. I scrunched my eyes closed to block it out and ease my throbbing skull, but a loud wailing siren began and made the pain even worse. I could feel myself being jostled around again. Was I moving? I could hear people talking and moving around me. Where the fuck was I? I blacked out again.
"Gareth?!" a very familiar female voice shouted in a frantic tone that pulled me out of the blackness again. I forced my eyes open and somehow managed to recognize the face with big brown eyes and dark skin hovering above me.
"Th...Th...Thea..." I mumbled out in a frail and stuttering voice as I shook all over. I feebly reached for her. I was so scared and confused. I was so cold, and in so much pain. "H...help...help...m...me..."
"I've got you," she answered waveringly, her eyes glistening and concerned as she gripped my hand in hers tightly. It tethered me to the here and now. "You're in the ER, and I'm going to take care of you. Don't worry." Her voice was firm and confident now. It eased the fear coursing through me. Thea was an emergency doctor, and I knew I was in excellent hands.
"Wh...wh...what...?" I forced out in confusion, unable to finish the question. I felt so weak and tired. I didn't know what was going on, and I couldn't think straight enough to remember how I got here.
"You have a knife wound in your abdomen, and you sustained a head injury from a fall," she answered calmly.
I reeled in pain and confusion, not comprehending anything else she said to me after that. Knife wound? Head injury? What?
Thea started barking out orders about pain meds and CT scans, and a bunch of other things I didn't understand. And then everything came pouring back into me in a terrifying rush. The hurtful things I'd said to Malory. Chasing her outside the building and being too late to catch her before she left. Running into Leonard Rigby and the fight that ended with him dying in front of me. The horror of realizing I'd killed someone, followed by the pain in my belly and then falling down to crack my head on the sidewalk. My last thoughts of regret about never being able to apologize to Malory or tell her how I felt about her before passing out.
With a horrifying jolt, I had the dawning realization that it could have been Malory who got attacked by Rigby. He could have killed her, and it would have all been my fault, just like eight years ago when I bit my stepmother Vivian's head off when she confronted me about my unhappy marriage. I'd left Viv all alone, and she died from a blood clot in her lungs. I'd done the same thing to Malory, and almost gotten her attacked by some methed out lunatic who probably would have killed her. Thank God, I'd been hurt this time instead. I'd been a selfish fucking asshole again, and I deserved this. Suddenly, I didn't even care if I lived. Everyone was better off without me. Malory was better of without me. The pain in my heart now matched the pain in my battered body.
"I'm giving you something for the pain now, Gareth," Thea's voice spoke comfortingly. "Just try to relax, and let us work."
Whatever. I didn't care what happened to me now. I closed my eyes as blessed pain-free nothingness fell over me and took me away. A small part of me hoped I'd never wake up again. It would serve me right if I died. Then I couldn't hurt anyone else.
**********
I woke up to a wave of nausea roiling through my stomach and a headache pounding inside my skull. I reached up slowly to touch my scalp and found a large painful lump on the side of my head that made the pain even worse. I moaned softly and shifted on the uncomfortable mattress underneath me, and was gifted with a stabbing pain in my lower abdomen to add to my suffering. My eyes flew open. "Fuck," I groaned out under my breath.
"Son?" a voice said waveringly to my right.
I looked over to see my father sitting in a chair next to the bed I was lying in. His face was a mask of worry and fear, making him look frail and far older than his sixty-three years. His graying dark hair was in disarray, and he was dressed in rumpled clothes. His eyes glistened with tears that fell down his already tear-stained cheeks.
"Dad," I rasped out roughly as I weakly reached for him with my right hand.
He grabbed it in a death grip. "My boy," he whispered in a shaky emotional tone. He began to sob softly.
Okay, so maybe not everybody was better off without me. If I'd died, it would have destroyed my father. Now I had more guilt to add to my burden. My eyes stung and for the first time in a very long time, I didn't fight it. A few warm tears trickled down my face as I held on tight to my father's hand.
"I'm so glad you're going to be okay," my father said as he squeezed my hand harder.
"Am I?" I asked. I hurt so bad and felt so nauseous, that I feared something horrible was wrong with me.
"You are," Thea suddenly announced from the doorway of my hospital room.
She was dressed in navy blue scrubs with a stethoscope around her neck. Her demeanor was calm and confident, and she exuded a professional competence that put me at ease. She smiled as she walked in.
"You're lucky I got called in to work last night." She came up to the left side of my bed and took my left hand in hers as her smile faded. "You're going to be fine," she said wearily, "but you scared the shit out of me." Her eyes welled up a little, before she continued in a more clinical tone. "Your knife wound was long and bled a lot, but it was shallow. It didn't pierce the abdominal wall, so surgery wasn't required. You also had some mild hypothermia, which actually slowed down the bleeding and probably kept you from needing a transfusion. I was able just to clean the wound and staple it closed. You also have a mild to moderate concussion. We did a CT of your head just to be sure, and it was negative."
I had some vague recollections of stinging pain and Thea telling me to hold still as she stapled the knife wound closed. I also remembered a loud machine surrounding my head like a giant donut that sounded like a jet taking off. That must have been the CT scanner. It was all fuzzy in my mind, just like everything since Malory fled my apartment.
"You were very lucky, Gareth," Thea said gravely. "That homeless man the paramedics told me attacked you could have killed you."
"He wasn't a homeless man." I looked down and shook my head in confusion. "He...he was a meth head I refused to represent a few weeks ago because he attacked me during our first interview. I don't know what he was doing outside my building or how he even knew where I lived."
"I do," a male voice said. I looked up to see Derek in the doorway wearing a grim expression. "Leonard Rigby was stalking you. Had been for weeks, I think."
"What?" I asked incredulously.
"Rigby had bite wounds on his forearm," Derek explained as he approached the head of my bed and stopped. "I think Reggie did that to him when he jumped Jared the other day thinking it was you."
I gave him a questioning expression, wondering how he knew about that since I never told him.
"I talked to the security guy named Robert from your building, the one that found you last night."
Found me? Ah, Robert was the voice I'd almost recognized the first time I woke after the attack. I owed the man. He saved my life.
"He said he'd been getting a lot of complaints about a homeless man hanging around outside the building, but was never able to confront the guy directly," Derek continued. "I told him my suspicions, so he went back through the security feeds. The guy has been loitering around the building on and off for a few weeks. Robert said it looks like it's probably Rigby on the video from Monday when Jane's car was damaged. He's in the same big dark coat that he was wearing when he attacked you. And I don't have any proof of this, but I bet you anything he's the one who vandalized your vehicle the week before at The Glass House too. Robert gave the police copies of all the footage he has, so they know it was self-defense. I highly doubt you'll be charged with anything over this.
"I watched the video from your attack. You're lucky to be alive, man." His eyes flooded with relief. "If your reaction time had been any slower, things could have turned out a lot worse. Hell, he could have gone after Malory instead when she left right before that." He paused with a sudden frown. "Why did Malory leave so late last night anyway, and why isn't she here?"
I looked down at my paper-thin hospital gown in shame. "I'm an asshole, so she left me," I said in a weary and bitter tone. I could feel all three of them staring at me for a long moment, but I didn't elaborate.
"Son," Dad finally said gently. "No matter what happened, I'm certain she'd want to know that you were hurt, and that you're okay. You should call her. Maybe you could even fix things between the two of you."
There was nothing to fix that letting her go wouldn't take care of. However, my decision did nothing to stop the deep longing for her that hit me hard and ached in my chest. My eyes burned, but I shoved my emotions down firmly and got a grip on myself. She didn't need me. I wasn't good enough for her. I'd almost gotten her hurt or killed. Guilt and shame made my stomach churn, adding to the nausea I already had from my concussion.
"No," I snarled our vehemently. "It's over."
"But Gareth-" Thea began in a soft tone.
"I said it's over," I cut her off sharply, my face hard and uncompromising. "I'm not calling her. No one is calling her. My life doesn't concern her anymore. End of discussion."
The three of them shared a look of concern, but thankfully didn't press the issue anymore. I was grateful. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. It hurt too badly to think about Malory, and how much I wished she was here with me right now. Goddamn it, I wasn't going to cry again.
"I need to check on your wound and look you over," Thea finally said with a frown.
"I'm not staying for that," Dad said as he rose. "I can't look at it again."
"I don't want to see it at all," Derek chimed in. "Let's go get some coffee."
"I need to check in with Victoria out in the waiting room too." Dad smiled down at me and grabbed my hand again. "I love you, son. I'll be back shortly."
"Okay, Dad," I said softly. "I love you, too."
"Catch you later, dumbass," Derek threw at me, but his affection and relief that I was alright were quite evident in the warm smile he wore.
I flipped him off with a wan smile before the two most important men in my life walked out of the room. Guilt surged up again as the list of people that I hadn't cared if I left behind not that long ago continued to grow. That's me, a selfish asshole yet again.
Thea came around the bed and prompted me to lower the blanket over me and pull up my gown. She took a long clinical look at my injury, murmuring about how nice the wound looked. I, on the other hand, was horrified as I looked down at myself. Nice wasn't a word I'd call it at all. It was about six inches long, and began a few inches to the right of my belly button and continued laterally almost to my hip. A long row of staples was holding my skin together, and I was red where each one pierced me, my flesh puckering up under them. It was disgusting. I looked away as my stomach roiled again. I didn't dare vomit. God only knew how much that would hurt, and I'd probably rip the damn thing open.
Next, she shone a small pen light in each of my eyes, and I winced from the painful brightness. "How are you feeling right now?"
"Like shit," I grumbled out in an annoyed tone. "When can I go home?" I needed to get out of here sooner than later. I wanted to be alone so I could wallow in my pain and loss over Malory without worrying about people questioning me about it.
She gave me an exasperated glare. "I need more than that, Gareth."
I huffed out wearily. "I'm nauseous. I have a goddamn headache. I feel like fucking shit, and I want to go home."
"Alright," Thea said tightly as her eyes glittered in irritation. "I'll be discharging you soon, but you can't be alone for the next couple of days. Your father is taking you home with him, so he can monitor you if anything changes."
"Why?" I growled out. "You said I was fine, and I need to get home to Reggie."
"You have a brain injury, Gareth," she spoke sharply. "Just because you're fine now, doesn't mean you're out of the woods yet. Serious symptoms could still develop, and you can't be alone until I'm certain it's safe. As for Reggie, Derek called Jared and had him go pick him up. He's keeping your dog until you can go home again." Her face hardened into the expression that I'd seen cow her children into obedience many times. Now I knew how they felt, and I really felt sorry for them. "You are going home with your father, and that's that." Her tone was final and uncompromising, and I knew I'd already lost. There was nothing else to do now but acquiesce.
"Fine," I mumbled as I looked away from her intimidating stare. Sometimes it was hard to believe that Thea was actually a submissive and not a Domme herself. She'd be damn good at it.
A brisk knock on the glass door interrupted us. Thea and I looked toward the door to see a blond middle-aged woman peeking around the curtain into my room.
"Dr. West?" she asked with a harried apologetic expression. "Room three's test results are back, and room nine is asking for more pain meds."
"Thanks, Pam," Thea nodded at her. "I'll be out shortly." Thea turned back to me as the nurse left. "Let me take care of that, and then I'll get you discharged. It shouldn't take long."
I merely nodded in reply. She patted my arm affectionately and then walked out. I watched the curtain fall back into place in her wake, then laid my head on my pillow. I stared up at the ceiling with a long beleaguered sigh. It was going to be a long few days of being babysat like an invalid. Lucky me. I'd better enjoy my last few moments of solitude while I could.
I closed my eyes to savor it for a moment, but was instead hit by a sudden image of Malory the last time I saw her. Her face twisted in pain and tears falling from her big beautiful hazel eyes. My heart clenched and ached painfully with guilt for what I did to her, and regret that I wasn't the man she deserved. All I could do now was move on and hope I could learn to live with the pain of losing her, and the prospect of a future spent alone. It was far better than hurting her ever again.