Текст книги "The Song Remains the Same"

Автор книги: Kelli Jean

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

“You don’t have to worry about any of it right this minute,” I told her.

“What about the others?” she whispered.

I cleared my throat, and the sound made her eyes jump to mine.

“Tim and Mack didn’t make it.”

“Oh…”

“Sheri is in critical condition…” I gave Alys and Connor the information Dr. Jacobs had given me about everyone.

Alys’s breath exploded out of her chest.

“Do you want me to call X’s parents?” Connor asked her.

Alys shook her head. “No. It should be me.”

“I’m here for you,” he softly told her. “I’ll be with you when you do, all right?”

She nodded before burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with her repressed sobs until she couldn’t hold them back anymore.

Sweet, loving, kind, caring Alys…I wished she could’ve gone her whole life without knowing this sort of pain. One of us really needed to call Mama Sally.

Alys’s pain was even more significant than what even I had experienced. She’d lost her love, her husband. Her life partner, the man she had devoted herself to, was gone. If I had lost Phil, I’d be as good as dead.

The door to the waiting room opened, and Dr. Jacobs walked in. “Dr. MacGregor?”

“Yes?”

“If you’ll come with me…”

Standing, I squeezed Alys’s shoulder before following Dr. Jacobs through the labyrinth of hospital corridors. Not knowing when I’d be back, if I’d be back, I knew I was leaving her in capable hands.

Outside of a room in the ICU ward, Dr. Jacobs halted. “What sort of doctor are you?”

“Therapeutic medicine. Why?”

“Mr. Deveraux had to be heavily sedated. He woke up screaming during surgery.”

“Oh, damn…” I said, wilting under that statement.

“He was screaming your name. Kenna, right?”

“Yes.”

“He is very battered and bruised—”

“That is nothing I haven’t seen before, Dr. Jacobs.”

He nodded. “I just wanted to warn you. He’s going to need all the help he can get to heal.”

The room, like most private rooms in an ICU, had one wall of glass and had the curtains pulled to protect privacy. Dr. Jacobs opened the door and stepped aside to allow me in.

My beloved, my other half, Phil fucking Deveraux, larger than life—he looked like a little boy, beaten and broken. His beautiful face was covered in gashes, lumps, and violently black-and-purple splotches. He was missing the beard he’d sported before leaving, shaven to search for more cuts, and both eyes were ringed with shiners. The left side of his mouth was swollen, the lip busted, and he had a slice beneath his right eye, taped up. His left leg was elevated with a cushion. There was a catheter lead hooked up to a waste bag attached to the bed, and an oxygen hose had been inserted into his nose and tucked behind his ears.

“Oh, babe…” I whispered, slowly approaching my reason for living.

“I’ve informed the staff that you’re allowed to stay with him. It took a lot of sedative to knock him out. He was very determined to find you, Dr. MacGregor.”

“Thank you.”

Dr. Jacobs left. Dropping my Burlap Beast into the lone armchair in the room, I walked up on Phil’s right side, lowered the bar on the bed, and perched my hip on the mattress.

“I’m here, babe. I made it.” Gently, I caressed a stray lock of hair off his forehead. His hair had been left alone, messy, coming out of its knot. “I have to say, you scared the shit out of me.”

The subtle rise and fall of his chest, the fluttering movement of his eyes behind his lids, the twitch of a finger that’d been clipped into the foam and metal SpO2 monitor—each movement, every spasm of life in him, made the painful ache within me slowly dissolve until I wept for the sheer relief of it. I hadn’t shed a single tear until this very moment.

“Shit, Phil!” I gasped, sliding my fingers into his curved palm, careful not to jostle anything. “I’ve been out of my mind! I didn’t know what to think. I only knew that you couldn’t possibly be gone from me. I still felt you,” I told him, my free hand coming up to touch my sternum.

I had felt him, had known he was still alive, that he hadn’t left me to face the rest of life without him. He wouldn’t do that to me, not yet, not before we had fulfilled all our dreams.

What, like X chose to leave Alys?

“Let everyone know, Baby Girl. No regrets.”

How do I tell Phil his best friend is dead?

“Babe…” I sniffled. “We’re going to get through this. I promise. I don’t know how…”

Exhausted, I slipped off the bed and pulled the armchair up next to it. Really, I should put the bar back up, but I needed to be in contact with him. Curling up in the armchair, I slipped my hand back into his.

Shit! His father! Danielle!

Digging my phone out of my bag single-handedly, I searched through the numbers until I came across Louis’s. I had no idea if the news had reached him yet.

“Hello? Kenna?”

“Hi, Dad,” I said as quietly as possible. I didn’t want the nurses to come in. Cell phones weren’t allowed. “Um…I’m in Saskatoon. I don’t know if you’ve already heard, but there’s been an accident—”

“Is everyone okay?”

Sniffling, fighting the urge to cry all over again, I said, “N-no.”

There was a loaded silence and then, “Philip?”

“I’m with him now. He’s just…” I had to swallow and dig out the doctor inside me. “He’s been in surgery—”

“Jesus Christ!”

“I think you need to come up here,” I told him. “It’s bad. Phil’s sedated right now, but he’s stable. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“All right. I’ll leave immediately. What about the others? What happened?”

“I can’t really talk. I just needed you to know. I won’t leave him—”

“I know you won’t, sweetheart. Where are you?”

“Saskatoon City Hospital. He’s in the ICU.”

We hung up, and I felt horrific for telling him so little. But he was on his way, he knew it was bad, and that was really all that mattered at the moment.

“Phil…” I whispered, feeling myself breaking down again. “Oh, Phil…”

I cried and cried and cried, and somewhere along the way, I cried myself to sleep.

Something tickled my cheek.

The scent beneath my face was sterile and, at the same time, Phil. Groaning, I forced my eyes open and raised my head, wincing at the stiffness in my neck. For a moment, I had no idea where I was, but I took in the dim light, and I remembered.

Saskatoon City Hospital.

Phil was awake, looking at me. “Kenna?” his voice rasped.

“Hey, babe,” I said, taking his hand and bringing it to my lips. It had been his fingertips caressing my cheek that I felt a moment ago. “Are you thirsty? Do you want some water?”

He nodded, and I got him a plastic cupful, holding it to his lips.

“What happened?” he asked when I placed the empty cup on the nightstand. “Where…” He looked around the room. “Where are we?”

“Saskatoon,” I replied. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Phil’s eyes grew unfocused as he searched through his mind. “I’m not sure. X…”

“What—” I had to stop myself from choking. “What about him?”

“I was worried about him. He seemed off.” He glanced around again. “We’re in a hospital?”

“Yes. What do you mean, he seemed off?”

“He was actin’ weird. He…he freaked. Went mental on Connor. I…” He winced. “Fuck, what’s wrong with me?”

For the first time, he noticed his elevated leg, and his eyes grew wide.

“You’re going to be okay, babe. Can you stay calm for me?”

He nodded and then spied his left hand. His engagement ring, the DiAblo, was missing, something I hadn’t noticed before.

“Where is it?” he gasped, his eyes flickering to mine. “Do you have it?”

I shook my head. “It’s probably—”

“Baby, fuckin’ find it!” he cried, his eyes wildly searching around as if it might just pop up out of thin air. His stress made the heart monitor spike, and the noise startled him, making him jump. “I’ve never taken it off!” He struggled, trying to get up, forgetting that the left side of his body was useless.

Two nurses and a doctor rushed in. Phil froze, his jaw hanging open.

“Miss, you need to leave,” the doctor said to me.

“No!” shouted Phil, making the heart monitor fire off even more.

One of the nurses clicked the morphine dispenser in the hopes that it would drug him, but Phil’s body was enormous, and that pitiful amount would hardly put a dent in him.

“Kenna, don’t go!” he cried.

“Please,” I said to the doctor.

“Don’t make me call security and have you escorted out.”

Damn it, Phil!

Grabbing my stuff, I threw him a pained look. “I love you, Phil. I’ll be back as soon as I can—”

“Kenna!” he screamed, my heart bleeding with the same pain his voice carried. “No! Please, don’t take my Baby Girl!”

From the opposite side of the glass, I watched the nurses hold him down while the doctor administered a sedative. Phil’s wild eyes locked on mine, and I pressed my hand to the glass.

I’m with you, babe, I thought. Always. Then, I brought my hands together before my heart. Namaste.

His eyes filled with tears, dimming as the sedative took hold. His mouth moved, forming the words, My wife.

I watched over him until his eyes closed and didn’t reopen.

Looking harassed, the doctor—Dr. Whitehall—came out of the room, a thunderous glare aimed at me. “Miss—”

“Doctor,” I corrected him. “I’m Dr. Kenna MacGregor. Licensed MD. And that man in there is my whole life. When he woke up, he found his engagement ring missing, and it upset him. You put him under duress when you ordered me out of the room. If he sustains any further injury, I’m holding you fully accountable!”

Dr. Whitehall recoiled briefly and then seemed to catch himself. “Visiting hours are over for the moment, Dr. MacGregor.”

“When will I be able to see him again, Dr. Whitehall?” I sneered.

“At nine a.m.”

Checking the clock on the wall behind his head, it read five forty-three. I had over three hours. Glaring at this jerk, I said, “I need his ring, or you’ll have to deal with more of that when he wakes up again without it.”

Dr. Whitehall jerked his head toward the nurses’ station and promptly walked off.

Asshole!

After the sort of commotion Phil had caused, the nurses happily retrieved his ring from his personal effects and handed it over. The look on my face dared them to stop me from going back into his room and slipping the ring onto his finger.

Bending down, I placed a kiss on his hand. “I love you,” I told him. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Don’t…” he moaned softly, not completely out yet.

“Just get some rest. I’ll be back before you know it.”

In the three hours until the next visit, Alys, Connor, and I took ourselves over to the Radisson Hotel and booked a suite for the three of us. With double beds, Alys and I would sleep together, so Connor could spread his giant self out on the other one.

After checking in and dragging our belongings up to our room, Alys did the hardest thing she had ever done, and she called X’s mother. Connor sat on her left while I took the spot on her right, and we gave her all the support in our hearts to go through with the task.

The wretched wail from the other end of the line froze my heart. It was the sound of a mother’s soul being ripped apart by the hands of Fate. Within me, I felt the tiny flame of life flicker, as if caught in the breeze created by that sound. My grandmother’s own soul had once generated that cry into the universe.

Once Alys had recovered from the phone call, I grabbed my stuff and took a long hot shower. Dressing warmly, I prepared for the next round of visiting hours.

“Do you guys want to have breakfast before I head over there?”

Alys shook her head. “I can’t eat.”

The same feeling was in my own gut, but I could use some coffee before heading back out. Connor decided to join me, giving Alys a little time to herself.

“You think she’ll be okay?” he asked as we headed down to the dining room.

“One day,” I replied.

The breakfast buffet had been set up, and I served myself some coffee and a piece of dry toast while Connor piled a plate full of eggs, bacon, and hash browns.

“That’s all you’re eating?” he asked as we picked a table and sat down.

“Not very hungry,” I said.

We sat in silence for a few minutes before I broached the subject that had been on my mind for the last few hours. “Phil told me X freaked out on you,” I said softly.

Connor’s jaw froze in mid chew. His eyes clouded with pain, and he nodded. “Yeah, he did.”

“That’s why you were on the roadie bus.”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

Shrugging with emotional discomfort, he replied, “He went apeshit because I had a picture of Alys in my bunk. It’s not like it was something inappropriate. I had pictures of you and Lili in there, too. It was weird. He had to have seen it in there from the beginning, but…”

“But what?”

“He made a massive stink about it and wanted me off the bus.”

As he stared at his eggs, I could tell he was struggling to say the words that were on his mind.

“Just say it,” I told him.

“You know when Mom died, and Lili said Mom knew it was going to happen?”

“Yeah. You think X knew?”

Connor nodded. “He texted me maybe ten minutes before the accident. He said…” Instead of telling me, Connor dug his phone out of his pocket and handed it to me.

X: I’m sorry. Don’t take what I said personal because I didn’t mean any of it. I just needed you off the bus. Take care of our girl. Much love.

“Phil said he was acting weird, that he was worried about X. That’s the last thing he remembers. He has no memory of the accident,” I told him.

“Did you tell him about X?”

“No. There wasn’t time. He woke up and freaked that his DiAblo was missing.”

Connor smirked. “Of all the things to freak out about, he freaks over his missing engagement ring.” He snorted with laughter. “Yeah, yeah, he would.”

Even I couldn’t help the small smile stretching my lips.

The situation I was facing hit me hard. “I don’t know how to tell him that his best friend is dead, Connor. And Tim and Mack…I need to find out how everyone else is doing. Flipper’s and Viv’s family need to be notified of their conditions, and Jason’s…does Jason have any family?” I mused.

“Not really. I mean, I don’t know specifics, but I know his mother is dead, and his father is out of the picture, has been since before he graduated high school. He has a grandmother who lives in the swamp. I get the feeling she’s a voodoo Mambo.”

“For real?” That did come as a surprise. Jason’s granny, a Mambo?

“Yeah. None of the guys really talk about it. Phil never told you anything?”

“No. I asked Phil about Jason’s family once, but he said he’d have to make sure it was cool with Jason before telling me anything. I left it at that.”

We finished up and headed for the lobby where Connor pulled me in for a giant hug. He was warm, full of life, and willingly lent me his strength.

“I’d come with you…” he started to say.

“But you need to take care of your girl,” I finished.

“We should get a rental car,” he stated. “I’ll try to have that arranged by the time you get back.”

“Okay.”

The cab ride back to the hospital was lonely and silent, and all I could think about was the fact that I was pregnant. Symptoms had been revealing themselves to me—queasiness, exhaustion, and mild cramping. With my strong mental focus, I had been able to ignore it and pretend it wasn’t happening. No one suspected.

Why should they?

My lack of appetite and drained appearance could easily be attributed to the stress of dealing with all of this.

At the nurses’ station in the ICU ward, I once more met up with Dr. Jacobs.

“Hello, Dr. Jacobs,” I said, hoping I sounded warm and friendly.

He smiled. “Dr. MacGregor. I figured you’d have been here when I first arrived.”

“There was an incident,” I replied.

“So I’m aware. I informed Dr. Whitehall that since you are a practicing MD, you are welcome to stay at any given hour and that if your presence will help keep Mr. Deveraux in line, then we shouldn’t dismiss that.”

“Thank you. Before I go to see him, I was wondering if I could check on the others?”

“Of course. They’re all in this ward for the time being.”

The first person I wanted to see was Sheri. I wasn’t the only one. Jason was there, sitting in the armchair next to her bed, holding her hand. He looked as though he had been to hell and back. The left side of his face was bandaged, the eye black and swollen. His dark blue eyes raised to mine and filled with tears.

“Kenna,” he choked.

I rushed to him and took him in my arms.

“Is it true? About X?”

“Yes,” I confirmed, my own eyes burning.

The wail of despair that ripped from his chest should’ve awakened Sheri. I was frightened that it hadn’t.

“What’s with Sheri?” I whispered once he’d calmed down.

“She had internal bleeding. She’s been put in a coma to keep her stable.” He sniffed and wiped his face.

“How are you doing?”

“Mentally or physically?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Not so bad, physically. My face is probably fucked up forever. A piece of glass or somethin’ sliced me open. Bruised all over but nothin’ broken. But my head?” His chest jerked on a repressed sob. “My head ain’t so good.”

“Is there anyone you need me to call? Family or…”

He shook his head. “I called my granny and told her what happened.”

“Okay.”

“The doctor said I’d probably spend tonight here just to make sure nothin’ was goin’ on that they hadn’t found, and then I’d be discharged. I’d like…can you get me some pants? They keep this place so fuckin’ cold.”

“Yes. I’ll give Connor a call and have him bring you some.”

“He’s okay?”

The look of joy that crossed his features at the thought of my brother being fine warmed me.

“Yes. He’s with Alys. Have you seen Flipper?” I asked.

“Yeah. We heard one of the nurses say that they shouldn’t mention X to us, and he hit his morphine button and passed out. I couldn’t believe it. I still…I still can’t. Does Phil…”

Feeling that weight crushing in on my chest, I sighed in an attempt to ease it. “It’s on my to-do list.”

So badly did I not want to be the one to tell Phil that I wished I were in a nightmare and would magically wake up.

Except…this is a living nightmare. There is no waking up. If anything, I should be wishing for sleep to take me from this.

Once more, I pulled the armchair close to his bed and released the sidebar so that I could take his hand. I simply sat there, wondering how I should tell him. As a doctor, I would attempt an empathetic approach, but I would be stoic in the face of delivering the news. However…

I’m not just a fucking doctor in this instance. I’m Phil’s other half, his fiancée, a friend of the slain man who had no regrets.

For about an hour, I let the thoughts churn in my brain, when Phil squeezed my hand. Startled, I looked up to find him watching me.

“You’re thinkin’ awfully hard about somethin’.” His voice was as rough as sandpaper.

Silently, I stood and poured him a cup of water, which he gulped down and asked for more.

“So, what is it?”

“I have bad news,” I said.

“What?” he asked. The heart monitor spiked.

Walking around the bed, I clicked the morphine button, hoping the dose would keep him calm.

“Kenna, you’re scarin’ me.”

“I know. I’m scared, too.”

He could see me shaking. Feeling faint, I sat back down, hoping it would pass.

Taking his hand in both of mine, I met his gaze. “Phil, X didn’t make it.”

His eyes widened, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “What?”

“He was killed in the accident.”

“No…” he whispered. “No, Baby…”

The pain in his voice, his eyes…it broke me.

I dropped my head to our hands and tried to hold in my sobs. “I’m so sorry!”

“It can’t be,” he whispered and then choked. Then, the enormity of the situation slammed into him full force.

Carefully, I sat down on the bed and put my arms around his shoulders, cradling his face to my neck. His right arm came up and crushed me to him, his hand fisting in my hair. I welcomed the pain. It made it easy for me to internalize it.

Behind me, the bed sagged under the weight of Jason. Phil pulled him in, and I was sandwiched between two wretches, heavily grieving for their fallen brother. An eternity passed before they were able to silence their cries.

Phil fell back into his pillow, taking me with him. “What about everyone else?”

I’d delivered the worst of it.

Jason simply picked up where I’d left off. “Tim and Mack are dead, too.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” cried Phil.

“But Flipper’s going to be fine,” I said quickly. “And Sheri’s going to pull through this. Viv had only minor injuries. Connor and the rest of the crew made it out without a scratch.”

“Oh God…” Phil moaned, his right hand releasing me and covering his face. His swollen, busted lips quivered as he attempted to control the urge to cry again. “This isn’t happenin’. It ain’t real.”

Jason sniffled. “I don’t know what to do.”

None of us did.

Between X’s parents and Alys, it was decided that X would be cremated, and a funeral would be held when it was possible for everyone to attend. After the cremation, Alys returned to New Orleans with his remains and moved back into our house. Lili and Lewis went with her to make sure Alys wouldn’t be alone in her misery.

A week after the accident, Sheri was awakened from her coma, and her improvement over the following days was borderline miraculous. Jason refused to leave her side, and two weeks after being in a horrific nine-vehicle pileup, Sheri walked out of the hospital and onto a plane back home.

Flipper and Viv left a week after that. His arm was healing, and his crushed ribs were doing well enough for him to venture back home, too.

That left Phil.

Out of ICU, it had become mostly about keeping his pelvis stable, so the healing would be clean. He was put in a private room where an extra bed was brought in for me or his dad or sometimes Connor to sleep in. We kept one room at the hotel, so we could return, shower, and relax in intervals.

Day by day, Phil’s body healed, but his heart and mind slipped further into depression. His demons grew in strength, giving him night terrors, making him dream of X dying over and over. At first, he would talk to me about them, but after a while, he closed up.

Even though his bones were mending, the restricted activity and lack of decent food had Phil dropping weight. His huge frame started to poke through his dwindling musculature, and it was frightening to see the hollows in his face, the sharp cheekbones protruding. His collarbone severely peeked through his shirt.

I brought him food that should’ve made him happy to eat, but he mostly prodded and pushed it around on his plate.

“I’m not hungry,” he told me for the millionth time, clicking the morphine drip again. “I feel sick when I eat.”

“Because you won’t eat at all,” I snapped. “You have to eat to heal, babe. The longer it takes, the longer it will be before you can get out of here.”

“If you want to go home, just go,” he spit.

Shocked, wounded to my core, I asked, “How can you say that to me?”

Looking uncomfortable with himself—as he should, the prick!—he couldn’t meet my eyes. “I’ll try to eat later.”

“Do you want me to go?” I asked.

“No.”

“You sure about that?”

He nodded. “I’m just sick of everythin’, Kenna.”

“I get that,” I told him, placing the Tupperware of seafood gumbo on the bedside table, within reach if he changed his mind. “I’ll be back later.”

“Where are you goin’?”

“Just have a few errands to run. Your dad should be here in a few minutes.”

Heart sore, I left the room, not bothering to kiss him good-bye. Guilt flared in me, but he was being an asshole. Heading to another wing in the hospital, I made sure no one I knew saw where I was going.

Obstetrics.

A few days ago, I’d snuck into the bathroom of yet another wing of the hospital, and I had taken a pregnancy test. It hadn’t even taken the full three minutes before it showed two pink lines, confirming what I’d already known. Afterward, I’d made an appointment with a gynecologist, and that was where I was headed.

Dr. Umbra was a middle-aged woman who seemed kind and friendly. “So, you’re a doctor, too?” she asked, smiling.

“I am,” I replied, hopping up on the table and lying back.

She had me lift my shirt and scoot down my pants. Then, she squirted cold gel on my belly. My heart was tripping, and no matter what I told myself, I was near sick with excitement and fear. The sonogram roamed along until it picked up the sound of the fetus’s heart.

Swish, swish-swish, swish…

Dr. Umbra’s eyes clashed with mine, and she knew she couldn’t give me the regular spiel she’d be firing off at another patient. She moved the sonogram around more, and still, it was the same.

Swish, swish-swish, swish-swish, swish…

There was something wrong with it. She knew it, and I certainly knew it. That heartbeat was weak, without proper rhythm, an arrhythmia of fatalistic proportions. How it was even still alive was a total mystery.

“Dr. MacGregor,” she said quietly.

“It’s okay,” I told her. “I…I had a feeling that something wasn’t right.”

Turning off the sonogram and wiping my abdomen free of the gel, she didn’t question my feeling. Sitting up, I pulled up my underwear and jeans, noticing how loose they’d become. I should’ve been putting on weight. Instead, I had been dropping pounds.

“These sort of things happen all the time,” she was saying. “Chances are, you will miscarry.”

Nodding, I’d been thinking along the same lines. Carrying to full-term wouldn’t be happening. That didn’t surprise me. It was as though I’d already prepared myself for this, expected it.

“There’s the option of terminating the pregnancy,” she gently told me. “It would be easier on you physically. Unless there are some religious beliefs?”

I shook my head. “No, but I need to think about it.”

“Of course. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to come see me.”

“Thank you.”

Instead of going back and dealing with Phil, King of the Grumps, I went to the hotel and got a room for myself. Grabbing my stuff from the room I shared with Connor, I went to my own and simply sat there in silence, searching for some peace in the world of turmoil surrounding me.

This was a new low for me. I had dealt with the loss of loved ones, had grieved deeply for long stretches of time.

But this…

“I love you already, and I don’t even know you,” I told it, placing my hand over my womb. “Even though I had a feeling that something wasn’t right, I still want you.”

Not even consciously aware of what I was doing, I stripped down to my underwear and tank top before fixing myself into lotus pose. Weary, bruised soul deep, I sank into myself, into the soft darkness that was the most comfortable place in my world.

A tiny flicker, a flame with the life force of its father.

I see it, and I head for it. Pulsing with light, it mimics its fragile heartbeat.

Swish, swish-swish, swish.

For some minutes, we simply acknowledge each other, passing back and forth waves of love, a most basic exchange between beings. This little pulsar, weak and unwell as it is, loves me, for I’m its mother, it’s my child, and it was created by the great love Phil and I bear for one another. It knows how much Phil loves because it’s half of him. It knows how strong I am, which is why it’s strong enough to ask me to hold on to it. I have to hold on to it for as long as it’s meant to be within me.

“I will lose you no matter what, won’t I?”

“Yes.” Its voice is not really a voice, so much as a feeling.

But I understand. Somehow, a mother always can, if she listens hard enough.

Seeing it, feeling it, the abnormal pulse of it, I’m both grateful and sad. More than anything, I want to fight to save it, bring it forth into the world and place it in Phil’s arms. It’s why I can never tell him. Phil will fall in love so hard with this spark, that to lose it, especially now, will destroy him.

“Can you help me to be strong?” I ask my pulsar, flickering in the zephyr created by its swish, swish-swish, swish. “Until I have to let you go, will you help me stay strong for him? You love him, too. He’s going to need us.”

“Yes!” it replies, pulsing a little brighter.

Good.

Then, I can be that much stronger, too.

When I finally opened my eyes, some three hours had passed. Though I was beyond exhausted, I felt better, stronger in my head. Knowing what I was facing, I was no longer terrified. Alone, heartbroken, and soul-weary, yes, I was, but I was not afraid.

The thought of having to go back to the hospital and deal with Phil’s shit attitude had me stressed out and feeling sick. I jumped in the shower, scrubbing myself and soaking in the hot water for at least thirty more minutes. When I got out, I was done.

Crawling beneath the covers, I was asleep within minutes.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Fuck me, is someone trying to break down the damn door?

Groggy and uncoordinated, I located a pair of sweatpants and went to answer it.

“What?” I asked, irritated.

Connor stood there, angrier than I’d ever seen him before. “What do you mean, what?” he snarled. He shoved his way inside.

“What are you doing, banging on the door like that?” I snarled right back.

“You packed up your shit and fuckin’ disappeared, told no one where you were or what you were doing! You made me track your ass down at the front desk! Phil’s going apeshit because you won’t answer your phone—”

“Enough!” I roared. “I needed some fucking privacy and decent fucking sleep! And Phil has been a right little bitch! He can go without me for a few hours—”

“Few hours?” Connor raged. “No one has seen you for a whole fucking day, Kenna!”

“Say what?”

“You left Phil yesterday at two p.m. It’s now the next day at four in the afternoon! No one has heard from or seen you in twenty-six fucking hours!”

Grabbing the Burlap Beast, I dug out my phone. Phil had called sixty-three times, leaving almost as many text messages. “Holy shit! I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Hit suddenly with a wave of nausea, I threw myself into the bathroom and dry-heaved up some bile.

“Fuck, Kenna! Are you sick?” Connor asked, barging into the bathroom, holding back my hair for me.

“Just stress,” I replied.

“When was the last time you ate anything?”

“I honestly don’t remember,” I told him, reaching up and flushing the bile down the toilet. “I think I went to bed around seven last night. I was only going to take a nap, but I guess my body didn’t agree with that.”

Getting back to my feet, Connor handed me a cup of water, and I rinsed out my mouth. Since I was there, I decided to scrub my teeth, too. He gave me some privacy to pee, and when I came back out, he was on the phone.