CHAPTER 41
“Let me see her.” I grind my teeth. Anxious hands flex at my side. I stare into the stormy eyes of Cait’s father. I’ve been waiting for hours, and now I’m crazed needing to hold her again and irritable because I haven’t slept in over a day. Linden left an hour ago, and he’s been the one mediating between us. I promised him I would sleep in the waiting room, but how can I when she’s right here, and I need to see for myself that she’s okay.
“Family only.” Her mother raises a palm with quiet authority.
“I am her family!” I scream, causing everyone in the nurse’s station to turn their attention to me.
I know what I look like in this bloodstained undershirt. I’m jittery. Steph’s dried blood covers my skin, my eyes are puffy and bloodshot, and my hair’s a wild mess. Compared to her parents, who are composed and dressed in business attire, I’m the crazy one.
Her mom waves for security. With the senator’s appearance, the hospital has been swarming with them, but no way are they keeping me from Cait. Though he appears wary, her father stands unmoving at her door. He crosses his arms, unwilling to let me pass.
“Get out of my way.” I grab his shoulders and push him aside, and he stumbles. For a fraction of a second I glimpse Cait. She’s out cold, laid out on the bed, a white sheet pulled up to her waist with tubes connected to her mouth and arms. I recoil at the shock of seeing her this way, so helpless and broken. But then press forward again, more eager than ever to be by her side.
I’m a few feet away when someone grabs my arm, flinging me backward, but I’m exhausted and tired of this bullshit. I swivel, jack my arm, and swing. I don’t care who the hell I hit. My fist connects with her dad’s face. His bones crack beneath my anger, and he hurls away, arms flailing. But I don’t stop there. No. I descend on him and strike him again and again with her mom screaming in the background. With each impact, I’m realizing it’s not just his face shattering; it’s me who’s breaking under the pressure.
Several men in suits tackle me to the floor. With my face and chest pressed into the cold linoleum, I yell Cait’s name. I fight them, arms swinging and legs kicking. My fingers grasp the air in her direction. I can see the wheels on the bottom of her bed. If I scream loud enough, maybe she’ll know I’m here.
The security mob wrangles me upright. My wrists are zip-tied behind my back before security hauls me down the hall, my toes dragging behind me. They hustle me into an open elevator and slam my chest against the cab’s wall. My cheek presses into the cold metal paneling, strong hands brace my shoulders, while someone’s elbow knifes into my back.
The elevator dings and the doors slide shut. But before they do, I take in her mother’s face. She’s standing on the far side of the hall. Despite her husband’s bloody and broken nose, she’s smiling. It doesn’t make sense—until it does. In a small moment of clarity, I realize she baited me when I was at my wits end. She wanted me to react. She wanted to get me kicked out and or arrested. She wanted to get rid of me because that’s what she’s wanted for years.
***
Linden picks me up at the police station on Monday.
“Motherfuckers,” he says.
He knows. He understands. Her parents will forever hate me because of what I represent. They believe that in me loving her, I enabled her to prosper here. I aided her so she wouldn’t have to run back to them. They wanted her to fail and return home.
It shows how little they know or understand Cait. She’s strong enough to survive on her own. She never gives up. And she sure as shit didn’t need me to get what she wanted. She gets what she wants on her own. When we met, I thought I would save her, but she’s no damsel. She’s a fighter. A warrior. And it’s why I love her.
As soon as we pull away in Linden’s Range Rover I say, “Take me back to her.”
“I wish I could.” He palms the steering wheel.
“Stop and let me out.” I reach for the handle but the locks click. I fire Linden a death stare. My crazy is coming back. I may have slept a little in my cell from sheer exhaustion, but I’m not beyond fighting my own brother to return to Cait.
He bypasses the city streets, heading straight for Lake Shore Drive. Today is gray and cloudy. The waves from Lake Michigan crash over the bike path that Cait and I run on. I watch it stream outside my window as Linden flies down the highway. I anchor my elbow on the door and bite the cuticles on my finger.
“The Londons filed a temporary restraining order against you. That’s why they held you in jail for so long.”
“What!” I slap the console. In ten seconds I’m exploding.
Ten. Nine. Eight.
“Things work faster when you have power,” he says.
I squeeze my fists until they turn white. Seven. Six. Five.
“If I take you back, you’ll end up in jail again. And that will give them power to extend the restraining order.”
Four. Three. Two.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he says.
My body stiffens, and I clench the edge of my seat. My mind’s imaging the worst thing it can. I can’t help it. It’s automatic. I hold my breath as my eyes burn like they’re filling with bleach, waiting for him to say it because I can’t bring myself to ask.
“I have sources at the hospital.” He shifts gears, blows a red light, and turns into his neighborhood. “Besides her gunshot wounds, she’s in a coma from a traumatic head injury. They think she fell and hit her head in the chaos.”
But she’s still alive. She’s still breathing. She’ll be okay. “When will she wake?”
“They don’t know. Sooner is better. Longer is...”
“No good.” I finish his sentence, but my thoughts have turned to the worst again.
We pull into his driveway and park. Viv stands out front, outside their open front door. She’s burrowed into a large gray sweater. Her auburn hair blows in the breeze. I reach to open the door with my bruised hand, but Linden has yet to unlock them. When I glance over, I can see he’s not done with me. A muscle ticks in my neck.
“You have to promise you’ll stay away from the hospital until we can meet with the attorney.”
“You know I can’t do that.” My voice is still hoarse.
“She’s getting the best care at a first-rate hospital with the best physicians in the world. I know you want to be by her side, we all do, but the best way to deal with this is to play cool. It’s a shitty thing for me to ask. I understand. In fact, I’d understand if you told me to fuck off and bolted when I open that door. But you’re tired, you need a shower, and you need sleep so you can be clear minded. You’ll be better for her tomorrow. You can’t face her like this.” He gestures to me.
I look down though I know what I look like. Or at least I did yesterday. Now it’s a day later and I’m still a wreck inside and out. I glance at Linden, trying to decide. He’s always watched out for me. He tells me the truth even when it hurts, and it’s never hurt like this before. I nod. Either way, it’s the only way I’m getting out of this car.
The locks release. I snap open my door and slide out.
As I approach Viv, her red hair coils around her face and strands stick to her maroon lips. She opens her arms and folds me into the warmth of her sweater. I should find comfort in her hug. She’s been a constant rock of support in my life, more than my own mother, but still, I’m numb.
“We’ll figure this out. Come inside,” she says, guiding me into their home.
In the guest bedroom, I shower and dress in fresh clothes I borrowed from Linden. My guilt is overwhelming when I hold out my blood-soiled pants and shirt, ready to discard them. It’s the last of Steph. I’ve been too unfocused to consider her family, her other friends, and Trevor. When is the funeral? Should I call them and tell them I was there? What will I even say? I couldn’t save your daughter? My expression folds, and I shake my head.
“I’ve already talked to her family. The funeral’s later this week,” Linden says.
“Did you tell them... I’m sorry. I tried...” Linden’s right. I can’t think straight.
“They know.”
I nod and release the clothing. They drop into the trash bag and Linden ties it shut. “Viv’s making food. Can you eat?”
“Sleep.” My voice is resigned.
He agrees and closes the door behind him, leaving me in the quiet bedroom. I sit on the edge of the mattress. My misery and headache increase the longer I fight to maintain consciousness. I’m scared if I sleep, if I miss one second, something else I can’t control will happen to Cait. If I’m sleeping, I won’t be able to protect her.
But my eyes are so heavy. They snap open before I realize I’ve closed them. I find myself leaning and drifting to one side. I give in and lay down on top of the comforter, holding an image of Cait in my foggy mind. With her beautiful face framed behind my eyelids, I walk toward her and allow the darkness take me. The problem is, my world is worse when I wake on Tuesday afternoon.