All I can hear is the repetitive beeping from somewhere beside me. Everything hurts as I struggle to drag my eyes open. I blink against the blinding fluorescent lights as I try to assess my surroundings. I'm on a bed. Turning my head towards the beeping, I find a heart monitor, the green line spiking across the screen. A hospital. I'm in a hospital. My head is foggy, and I struggle to remember how I got here. The last thing I remember... I swallow as bile rises in my throat. The last thing I remember is Joe. Shame and disgust crawl over my skin like a swarm of insects. I close my eyes and press my head back against the pillow as images flash through my mind. All I can see is Caleb's small smile right before Joe put a bullet in his head. A pain I didn't know existed consumes me from the inside out, a grief so intense, that even my mother's death seems like a walk in the park. Several tears slip down my cheek as I think of him. I rub my palm over my heart as I gasp for breath. I feel as though I won't ever be whole again. Caleb was a bright light in this dark and ugly world, and now he's gone, and I'm free-falling into this pit of despair. I wish Joe had just let me die.
The door clicks open and I look up as Jude walks into the room. My heart leaps into a sprint, and my skin breaks out in a cold sweat as the door slams shut behind him with a heavy finality. Our eyes lock, and a barrage of emotions hit me. I never thought I would see him again, and the sight of him has a sob tearing from my throat. I press my hand over my mouth, and the lines attached to my arm pull tight.
He's by my side in an instant, gently brushing a finger over my cheek. "I'm sorry, Tor."
I've never heard his voice so soft before. I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to look at him as the emotional war wages inside me. His eyes trace over my face. His hair is a mess, and dark circles have formed under his eyes. I've never seen him appear anything other than completely controlled, the master of his own empire. Now, though, he just looks destroyed. His brother died. Caleb died. I want to feel for him, but I'm too consumed by own grief. I wish I could say something, but there's nothing to say. His brother died trying to save me.
"Tor," he whispers.
I twist my face away from him. I can't look at him. I feel everything all at once, and it's too much, so I switch it all off. I don't want to feel.
"Tor." He sweeps a finger over my cheek, and I flinch instinctually. Jude backs away from the edge of the bed and sighs. "I need you to know when I said what I did. I..." He shakes his head before continuing. "He needed to believe you were nothing. Anyone who means something to me ends up dead," his voice breaks.
I remember the exact moment I heard those words because it was the moment I gave up. It was the moment I realised I was nothing, and no help was coming. It was the moment that shattered me, and no words can put those splintered pieces back together.
"You're everything," he breathes.
I don't want to be everything. I accepted my fate; I accepted that I meant nothing to him. I was willing to die. I welcomed it. The second I heard Caleb's voice on the other end of that phone, my only wish was that Jude would keep him safe.
He failed.
I wish I had been the one who died because living with Caleb's loss is an agony I can't bear. I close my eyes, and I can still see his smiling face, that trace of innocence I knew he would never truly lose because he was good in every way that mattered. He died trying to save me, and his loss is a pain I can't even begin to describe. So I switch it off. Call it self-preservation. There's only so much one mind can take before it snaps.
"Please go," I whisper without looking at him.
His eyebrows pull together in a dark frown, and he stalks towards me like the predator he is. His fingers wrap around my chin, forcing my eyes to his. "You have been through hell. I get that, but you listen to me, you are not nothing, you are everything." My chest tightens, and tears prickle my eyes. "He took Caleb from me, don't let him take you too." His voice is barely above a whisper as he stares at me, begging me with his eyes. I know I should feel something at his words, but I don't. I can't.
There's a knock on the door, and a doctor walks into the room carrying a clipboard. He flashes me a broad smile that I don't return.
"Miss Pearson, I'm Doctor Perry. How are you feeling?" I remain silent, and he clears his throat. "We need to discuss what happened to you—"
"I want him to leave," I quickly say, pointing at Jude.
"Why do I need to leave?" Jude's jaw clenches and I can tell he's fighting back the urge to throw a few curse words in there.
I direct my gaze toward the doctor, pleading.
"At her request, I need to speak with her alone. Please excuse us, Mr. Pearson."
Jude rises, glaring at the doctor the entire way to the door. He opens it and glances back at me. "I'm gonna go smoke. I'll be right back."
The door clicks shut, and the doctor glances at me. "How are you feeling?" he repeats.
"Fine."
Physically I'm as well as can be expected, mentally, I will never be fine.
He nods. "You've been through a lot. The infection you had has cleared up; all the labs have come back negative for organisms. I think you'll be able to leave in a few days."
He's looking at me, and I know that look. There is something he's not said yet because he's not exactly sure how to broach it.
"Do you know how long you were you gone?"
I frown and try to think, to remember, but everything is a blur. "I don't know, days, weeks." I shrug. "Why does it matter?"
"It's routine to give every female patient a pregnancy screen, Miss Pearson—" Oh, God!
"No." I shake my head. I'm going to be sick. "No, no, no," I repeat to myself. I drag my hand through my hair. This isn't happening.
The doctor walks to the bedside. "Miss Pearson..."
"I want it out!" I shout at him.
"Please, I understand this is difficult, but please calm down for just a moment."
I jump off the bed, yanking the IV lines out of my arms. Blood trickles down both wrists.
"Miss Pearson!" he shouts as he steps back to open the door. "I need help in here," he yells to the nurse's station.
I turn my back to him and rip the hospital gown down my shoulders, exposing my back. "How many brands are on my back?" I scream hysterically. There's silence. "How many?!"
"Six," he whispers, his voice breaking. Only six? I felt like I was there for months, and yet, I remember every brand being burned into my skin. One a day.
I brace my hands on the bedside table, my breathing ragged. It's not Joe's, which means... I turn back around to face the doctor, and Jude is standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of pain and anger.
Six brands, one for every day Jude didn't get to me, isn't that what Joe said? Two nurses step into the room, and the four of them stare at me as though I'm a wild animal about to bolt.
The doctor tries to calm me. "Miss Pearson, you need to..."
"Leave." My voice is a broken rasp, but he stops and nods before leaving the room. One of the nurses moves to my side and tries to treat my bleeding wrists. "Leave!" I shout at her.
She flashes a nervous glance at Jude, then back to me. Eventually, she nods and leaves. Silence fills the room, and I can feel the tension humming off Jude from here.
"Sorry," he says quietly.
I lay down on the bed and curl onto my side. Blood stains the sheets but I don't care. I can't process this, so I choose not to. I shut it down and push it from my mind. I close my eyes. I'm so tired. I wish I could fall asleep and never wake up.
"Sleep, Tor." I'm vaguely aware of Jude's hand stroking my hair as I fall asleep.