Vandal

“I hate you! You killed my baby!” she shrieks, and starts to smack and kick me.

Storm grabs her and pulls her off me. “Deb, please. This is not the time or place for this.” His voice is low as he holds her back.

“He should be in prison! He’s a murderer!”

“No one’s going to prison, Deb,” Lukas says, stepping between us. “It was an accident. A horrible fucking accident. You should just leave. Nobody needs this. We’re all upset.”

She glares at me over Lukas’s shoulder as Storm tries to drag her out the door. “I’m going to make you suffer for this, Vandal! You fucking baby killer!”

“I’ve been suffering my whole life, you cunt. Don’t ever come near me again. We have nothing more to say to each other.” A security guard enters the room and yanks Deb out as my doctor comes in right behind them. “I know this is a stressful situation, but can you people please remember this is a hospital? There are sick people here,” he scolds, as if we’re all stupid.

I can’t hold back my sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, one just got dragged away.”

“What happened here?” He points to the hole in the wall. “You’re going to have to pay for this damage, Mr. Valentine.”

“Fine. Whatever. Can I just go home now?”

The good doctor eyes my hand. “I’m going to have the nurse come in and get your hand cleaned up first. And might I suggest you talk to the psychiatrist on staff? I think you are going to need some anger and grief counseling, Mr. Valentine.”

Lukas nods in agreement. “I think that’s a good idea, Van. Someone to talk to …”

“Fuck. No. I don’t talk.” What I really need is to go home and talk to my good friend Jack Daniels for a few hours.

“Your brother is right,” Doc says to me, and hands Lukas a business card. “This is her information. Maybe when things … settle a bit, he can give her a call.”

“He’s still in the room,” I say sarcastically. “And he’s not talking to a shrink.”

I sit impatiently on the bed as the nurse cleans and bandages my bleeding and swollen knuckles. Apparently only one nurse and one doctor are allowed to treat me while I’m here to diminish the chances of hospital staff who could be fans of the band swarming in here. I have a feeling my aunt and uncle somehow paid for that to happen.

“Mr. Valentine, I’m hesitant to give you a prescription for sedatives in your current state, although I do think you need something to help you calm down,” the doctor comments. I didn’t even hear him come back into the room.

“Don’t worry, Doc. I’m not going to take the whole bottle. Been there, done that.”

“Vandal … come on, man,” Storm voices from his corner of the room, his fiancée hanging on to his hand as if she’s afraid she might get lost if she lets go.

“What, Storm? You don’t want to talk about all the stuff that me, you, and my little bro here have in common?”

I watch him look uneasily at his fiancée, Evie, and I know that he hasn’t told her about his own little trip to the psych ward years ago. Of course I wasn’t part of the family when that happened, but I know all about it thanks to Google. And my younger brother, who I actually kinda like, has deep, telltale scars on both his wrists that even his tattoos can’t hide from my knowing eyes.

Funny how much we all have in common, how parallel our lives were, even though we didn’t grow up together.

***

Just when I think I can leave, Aria, Asher, my lawyer, Sam, our band manager, Don, and our publicist, Helen, all parade into the room.

“What the fuck now? I want to get out of here.”

“Vandal, we have to talk about the incident and damage control so you and the band and your family don’t get dragged into all sorts of gossip and bad press,” Helen says, taking the chair next to my bed. She pulls out an iPad and starts tapping away on it. Bitch is probably updating her Facebook status. “For once, one of your fuck-ups has actually helped save your ass. You forgot to change your birth certificate back to your biological name of Vandal Valentine like you were supposed to do. So, legally you are still Alex Dawson.” Well, at least my adoptive parents did something right. Helen continues, “Therefore, all the accident reports have that name because all of your identification still has it.”

“Vandal, next week I need you to come into my office so we can get all this straightened out with you using your biological name again,” Sam says.

“Okay … I’ll call you and set up a time,” I reply. I completely forgot about changing my name back legally. Once Gram found me and told me what my real name was, I started using it right away and wasn’t worried about filing paperwork. I just wanted a new beginning with the name that was given to me.

“Deb is not doing well emotionally, which is understandable,” Aria says. “We’ve offered her a large sum of money to not speak to the press about Katie’s accident, or to mention your name, or the band’s, or anything of that nature, and have had her sign nondisclosure agreements and other legal documents that I’m sure you don’t want to be bothered with. The bottom line is, she’ll be quiet.”

“So that bitch is making money off of our daughter’s death? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Aria touches my shoulder. “Vandal, it’s fine. If it keeps her quiet, so be it. We can afford it. Don’t worry about it or waste time thinking about it, please.”

“Thankfully, due to the fact that this is a very small town and your grandparents, aunt, uncle and cousins are so well known and liked, we were also able to pay a few people at the scene to keep quiet and had them sign documents as well. Also, since the band is made up of family members, there is no worry of any of them talking or selling a story, and the few people that work closely with the band have also agreed to silence and signed legal documents.”

“I’d be willing to sell his story for a price,” Asher says, half joking.

“Shouldn’t you be up on the fourth floor right about now?” I shoot back at him.

“Guys, that’s enough,” Aria scolds. “Asher, that is not even funny, and Vandal, that was uncalled for.”

My cousin and I glare at each other.

Helen snaps her fingers at us. “The hospital has been wonderful with keeping your visit here discreet. All staff that handled your case, Katie’s, and Renee’s have also signed non-disclosure agreements. Renee’s only relative that she had any contact with was her older brother, and he showed no interest in you, or her, for that matter. He almost seemed relieved that she was gone. Apparently she had been in and out of rehab for most of her life.”

“Excellent choice in women,” Asher says.

I flip him my middle finger. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You two better bury the hatchet.” Don stands and paces the room. “We are all tired of it and it’s doing nothing to help the band. This is some serious shit happening. You aren’t playing in your basement anymore.”

“Lastly,” Helen continues, “both funeral homes have agreed to total discretion and all of those matters have been, and will be, handled accordingly. I believe we have covered all of our bases to ensure that no part of this tragedy ends up in the wrong hands, at least to the best of our abilities. Yesterday we issued a brief press kit stating that there had been a horrible accident, and we ask for sympathy and privacy for everyone involved during this difficult time. I suggest you lay low for a while, Vandal.”

“Thanks for all your help with everything,” I say, my head spinning just thinking about how much money was forked over to keep people quiet. I don’t even want to know where that money is coming from.

***

I don’t say anything as Lukas drives me home. Time feels fucked to me, as if it’s been years since the accident when in fact it was only three days ago.

“I could stay with you for a few days so you’re not alone.”

“I like being alone. I’m used to it.” My voice sounds flat and empty, even to me.

He glances away from the road for a moment to read my face. “You don’t have to be. I know what it feels like, Vandal. My life wasn’t much different than yours. The difference is that now, I’m trying to make it better.”

I stare out the window and into the trees. “I let myself get close to Katie and now she’s gone, Lukas. I think it’s pretty clear I was never meant to have a family.”

“You still have the rest of us. We’re not going anywhere.”

I know Lukas had a fucked up childhood, as I did. Born six years after me, our father abandoned him when he was just a baby with an eighteen-year-old mother, who gave him to her grandparents to raise until they passed, and he ended up as a teenager in the foster system. When we met for the first time five years ago, he was so excited to have a big brother and a bunch of cousins that neither one of us had ever met. Of course I was a huge disappointment as a brother, being the anti-social asshole that I am. And how could I compare to our perfect Valentine cousins and their equally perfect parents?

The kid didn’t give up, though. He was determined to be a part of my life, and for us to walk into the welcoming fold of our new family. Slowly, slowly, I’ve tried to let myself accept these people as family, and they’re actually pretty cool. I still struggle with it, though.

Lukas pulls into the long driveway of my house and puts the car in park.

“Should I come inside with you?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No. I need to do this alone.” I stare out the windshield at the house, which looks lonelier than ever. “Lukas, thanks for being there the past few days. You know I’m not good at this shit and my head is really fucked right now, but I do appreciate you being around.”

“Anytime. If you need anything, just call, okay? I don’t care what it is, or what time it is … anything.”