We stood side by side as the porter called for the lift, and I shook my head. “No.”
“Brother?”
Another shake of my head. “Just a friend.”
I almost laughed. It was pitiful. Some friend I’d turned out to be. Friends looked out for each other, and I’d given up the second things had gotten too tough for me. The lift pinged, signalling its arrival, and we all stepped through the doors.
ICU was on the fourth floor, and as we entered, my heart almost slowed to a stop.
The atmosphere changed completely.
There was a palpable feeling of calm that seemed to ooze from the walls. Even the beeping of machinery seemed to be on a low volume setting.
A handful of nurses pattered around with silent footsteps and hushed voices, one of them approaching us with a soft smile and a clipboard of notes. Gentle conversation ensued between her and the other nurse, and within a few minutes, Syra was situated in her bed in a private room, the only sound coming from her breathing equipment, the heart monitor, and my own blood rushing in my ears as I sat and watched her.
And that’s all I did to start with. I sat forwards in the arm chair, my elbows on my knees and my fingers steepled by my mouth. I wasn’t sure what I was watching for, or waiting for. The nurses had explained she would remain in this state for a few days to give her body a chance to repair from the damage and distress, so it wasn’t like she would suddenly wake up.
I was lost.
I felt like my purpose for ‘being’ had been snatched away from me. Even when I’d moved out, when I wasn’t seeing her every day, I’d still felt so connected to her. But now… well now, she was in a coma and there was nothing I could do but wait.
Jack
Berlin by Corey Kilgannon
IT WAS SIX am, and I stood with rage bubbling up inside me as I lifted my knuckles to knock. There was no answer to start with, so I kept knocking. I knocked and I banged. I slapped my hands over and over again on the door in front of me until I saw the hallway light flick on and heard the rattling of the key in the lock.
“What the fu—”
He didn’t have time to say anything else before I forced my way into the house, shoving him in the chest until he stumbled backwards. “You were supposed to look after her.”
Doug regained his balance but I shoved again.
“You were supposed to fucking look after her.”
He looked up at me from his position on the floor. “Jesus fucking Christ. Get a fucking grip.” He stood and swept his hair out of his face with his fingers, only just having time to breathe before I shoved again, no words to accompany my anger this time.
“Jack. Stop.”
I went to go again but he shoved me back.
“Jack!”
“She’s in a fucking coma, Doug.” I crouched to the floor, my head in my hands. “You were meant to look after her.”
He leaned over me holding out his hand to pull me up. “And you weren’t supposed to fall in love with her.”
I eyed him curiously with narrowed lids.
“Oh come on. You think I was born yesterday? I’ve seen the way you look at her. And this? You’re like a man possessed.”
“A coma, Doug.” I almost spat the words in his face. “Shit. She could have fucking died.”
“But she didn’t. Thanks to you.”
I moved across his hallway and sat on the bottom step, looking back across the space. Who needed this much space anyway? It was so grand and so unnecessary.
“Who are they?”
“Oh no you don’t.” Doug walked away from me towards his kitchen, his sleep pants slung low on his hips, with a swagger in his step that I wanted to beat out of him. How could he act so blasé about all of this?
He continued to talk to me, his voice rising in volume as he reached the kitchen. “You leave that up to me. I’ll deal with them. Him.” The sound of glasses clinking and ice dropping into liquid was followed by his voice again as he came back through with two tumblers of whiskey. “Get that down you. You’re in shock.”
I took it from him and necked the lot. “You can bet your fucking arse I’m in shock.” I kept my eyes on him as he stood in front of me. “And who is him? How the fuck did she end up there with those guys?”
“She works for me.” He sipped on his whiskey, pensive, contemplative and way too calm for my fucking liking, his eyes trained on a spot on the wall opposite us. “And he paid for her.” He shrugged.
“I knew it. You sold her. Jesus Christ, you fucking low-life. ”
“Well, it was more of a lease.”
I stood and fisted the material of his T-shirt, shoving him. “She’s not a fucking car. Is this what you do? Prey on young girls and rent them out to your mates?” I let him go and ragged a hand through my hair. “I knew you were low, but that…” I inhaled deeply and eye-balled him. “You gave her fucking drugs, man.”
“I give everyone drugs, Jack. That’s what I do.”
“Why is she working for you?”
He stood and turned to face me. “Because she wanted a job. Because she is exactly like—” He stopped and shook his head. “I was giving her what she apparently needs.”
“What she needs? She doesn’t fucking need drugs, Doug.” I was an inch or so taller, ready to start shoving at his chest again. “You know this as much as anyone.”
He held his hands up defensively. “I don’t force them on people. They take if they want.”
The muscle in my jaw ticked as I flicked my eyes from one of his to the other, hoping to find some indication that this guy was pulling my leg, joking… that he was human, with a heart, with some kind of remorseful soul that might feel a little bit responsible for the mess I’d walked in on earlier. “You know she’s fragile. So why? Why have you got your claws into her, huh? She was perfectly fine at the supermarket. She was perfectly fine without that bag of pills you gave her. She didn’t need to switch jobs or become something for your boys to play with.”
He sneered. “I am a businessman, Jack. She became a business opportunity.”
Smack.
My fist connected with his jaw causing his head to spin to the side. He closed his eyes and turned back to face me, his eyes watering but with that grin remaining. “Just remember who it is you’re getting in deep with, Palmer.” He turned to walk back to the kitchen. “Let yourself out.”
***
“She’s coming round.”
The gentle touch of the nurse’s hand on my forearm startled me out of my sleep, and I snapped my head up, rubbing my eyes until they looked at her, wide and hopeful.
“Really?”
She nodded and smiled. “The doctors will need to assess her and do some tests, but once all that’s done, you’ll be able to go in and see her.”
“Shit.” A laugh jumped from my chest—one loaded with relief and disbelief. “I mean, great. That’s great, right? She’s going to be fine?”
“She has a little way to go yet, but she’s doing well. I’ll come and get you shortly.”
I nodded and stood, pacing the floor with my hands linked at the back of my neck.
She’d remained in her coma for three days. I’d sat by her bed each visiting time for every one of those days, waiting, watching, hoping… and yesterday morning, they informed me they were going to start reducing the medication. It had taken seventeen hours of more painful waiting, but she was finally waking up. I could barely contain myself, my whole body now humming with the need to see her—to talk to her and to tell her how fucking sorry I was. I’d been too late to save her but that was going to change now. I wasn’t letting this girl slip through the net again. I would make it my life’s purpose to wake her up and show her who she was, who she could be, what she was capable of.
I paced and paced until I was called.
Then, I stood outside her room, watching her through the window for a few minutes—watching her eyes flutter open and
closed and her fingers and arms move gingerly. I watched as she was helped by the nurse to lift her head to take her first sip of water and how she winced at the pain of such a simple task.
She’d need a bit of physio—some follow up care—but she was awake.
She was there and she was alive.
I ducked my head and opened the door, only a crack to start with, peering at her through the small gap, trying to catch her eye.
And when I did, it was like coming home.
The second she saw me, her face crumpled and those tears that she fought so hard to hide away from me, from anyone, fell freely, trickling one by one down her temples, her cheeks and over her lips.
I was by her side in an instant, the back of my hand sweeping them away as I held her with my eyes.
Opening her mouth to speak, she winced again and I shook my head.
“Shh. Just rest. We can talk later.”
More tears escaped and I wiped those too. I would wipe them every day for the rest of my life if she would only show them to me. I would spend my whole life catching them and another lifetime chasing away whatever it was that made them fall.
I caught a final tear with the back of my forefinger and she reached up with her hand, closing it weakly around mine. Her touch was loaded with a thousand thoughts, a thousand conversations that we hadn’t had, and I nodded.
“I know. Okay?”
She smiled sadly and sniffed, and her hand slipped from mine as tiredness took her captive.
There was a long, painful road ahead of us, but we’d travel it together. I wouldn’t let her slip and fall, but if she did, I’d pick her up and carry her. I wouldn’t let her stray from the path, but if she did, I’d follow her and lead her back.
Doug was meant to look after her, and he hadn’t.
So now it was down to me.
I smoothed her hair back from her face and allowed my eyes to roam over her features. “The cops are probably going to want to talk to you.”
She turned her face away, her eyes drifting closed, and sighed. “I don’t really remember much.” Her voice was hoarse and her face screwed up at the pain in her throat.
I glanced at the nurse who smiled kindly.
“We insist that police officers give our ICU patients a little time. She won’t be expected to make a statement today and not at all if she doesn’t want to.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“I’ll leave you two alone for a few minutes, but not too much talking, okay? Small steps. Buzz if you need anything.”
Watching her walk out of the door, I made myself a little more comfortable on the edge of the bed and picked up Syra’s fingers, smoothing them with the pads of mine. I had so much to say, and so much to ask her, but it didn’t seem right to bombard her with it all as she lay there in such a vulnerable state. The gentle hissing and beeping of machinery in the room was the only sound, and I barely dared to breathe. I knew she, too, was holding back a barrage of words, questions, accusations, but the only thing that mattered in those few minutes was my apology.
I looked down at her small hand in mine, wanting never to let go again, before emptying my lungs on an uneasy sigh. “I’m sorry, Sy. I’m so fucking sorry.”
She manoeuvered herself until she was looking at me, a small shake of her head indicating that she felt I had nothing to apologise for, but I kept going.
“I shouldn't have walked out that day. I shouldn’t have left you alone, and I shouldn’t have left you at the club. I’m sorry.”
“Jack, please.” Her voice was barely a whisper, and she grimaced again, the effort it was taking to use her throat and her voice obviously causing discomfort.
I passed her the cup of water and helped her to lift her head a little. “Shh. No talking.”
She took a small sip before pushing my hand away. “You have noth—” Her eyes closed tightly again as she pushed past the pain to get her words out. “You have nothing to apologise for. My life. My decisions.” She looked at me, holding my gaze for a few seconds. “Just because I do this shit doesn’t mean I don’t know better. I’m not completely naive. I know I’m tearing myself apart.” She held her hand out for more water and took a bigger sip before laying her head back on the pillow, her eyes finding mine again. “It’s deliberate.”
I took in the expression on her face and the idea that she couldn‘t remember what had happened struck me like a bullet. How was I supposed to fill her in on what she’d forgotten? How could I be the one to tell her she’d been forced upon?
I squeezed her hand tightly and brought the back of it to my lips so I could brush them across her skin. “I’m going to let you rest. Okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Her eyes filled again and it took all of my resistance to stand and let go of her.
“You’ll come back?”
“I’ll come back.”
She blinked, allowing the tears to trickle over her lashes, gifting me with a small smile. “I’ll see you.”
My heart broke in that moment. I could see right through her. She was scared—I guessed because she couldn’t remember.
As I walked out of the hospital, I promised myself, and her, that I would tell her everything. She had enough eating her from the inside out. She didn’t need something else to add to the heartache.
I kicked a stone across the carpark and finally reached the beat up Audi that I drove around, one kindly donated by Doug, who funnily enough was leaning up against it as I came to a stop beside the driver’s door.
“She awake?”
I nodded.
“Has she talked?”
“A bit. Why?”
He uncrossed his ankles and pulled his hand out of his pocket, stroking his fingers across his clean-shaven chin. “Because I need to know what she’s said.” He eyed me carefully. “Because there is a shit ton at stake here, Jack, and I can’t have her shooting her mouth off about The Release or anything that she has bared witness to in there. Are you understanding me?”
I snorted. Turning my head away from him and running the back of my hand under my nose before pinning him with my stare. “You might have thought about all that before you opened up your drug den to all and sundry, renting out your bar staff and allowing them to be raped under your nose.”
His jaw ticked. “I’m not sure you are understanding me.”
I frowned. “Are you threatening?”
He moved away from the car and slipped his hands back into his pocket. “She has one chance when those cops come to talk to her. Understood? One chance. Don’t fuck this up for me, Palmer because I’ll take you down with me.”
***
I slid my key into the lock at the house I’d shared with Syra. I needed some familiarity, and I needed my own bed. Bunking with Jamie was all well and good, but his couch was uncomfortable and his trainers reeked.
Stepping into the hallway, I shrugged out of my coat and hung it on the bannister, climbing the stairs immediately.
I needed sleep, but it didn’t come easily. I was riddled with emotion that was directed at so many different individuals. Anger was prevalent and the most recognisable. I was so fucking angry with Doug. Incensed. I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around his motives or how someone could be so cold-hearted. I supposed money had something do with it, but even so, messing with people like they were puppets…
I was still angry at her for being so goddamned gullible and stupid. Stupid for taking up an offer from him in the first place. Stupid for allowing herself to get drawn into that lifestyle so quickly and easily when she had a mother at home who was slowly killing herself.
Her mother.
I should have been in touch with her already to let her know what had happened, but would she be in any fit state to care? Would her being around add to Syra’s problems? She needed a break from all of that. Her mother could wait.
Most of my anger continued to be directed at myself, though, and lying on my bed in the da
rk, my arm slung over my face, I continued to berate myself for not being the friend she’d needed, for putting my inconveniences before her well-being and for being a selfish prick.
Doug’s words from earlier rattled around my head and I couldn’t shake them. Syra was in danger and if I wasn’t careful, I would be too. The police would be at the hospital soon and I had no idea what Syra was prepared to say to them.
I lay awake for hours, the sound of the waves seeping in through my open window, and later, the early morning gulls squabbling over their finds and the distant sounds of the fishermen hauling in their catch for the day. My mind drifted out to sea along with the familiar noises, lulling me to that place between being awake and being asleep, but my need to protect her from the world that had been so cruel, from the monsters that used and abused her and from herself, had me sitting bolt upright, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and rushing out of the house.
I needed to see a man about a boat.
Jack
Killing Me To Love You by Vancouver Sleep Clinic
THERE WERE TWO ways to go about this, and as I sauntered in through the hospital doors the next day, I still wasn’t sure which way it would go.
Some might have called me stupid, and I’d have been inclined to side with them, but I wasn’t going to leave Syra to the dogs. I didn’t trust Doug, and if the wrong words happened to slip from her lips when she was questioned by the police, I didn’t doubt for one second that he would keep his promise.
I visited as normal that morning, saying a friendly hello to the nurses and sitting by Syra’s bed as she periodically slept. I worried about her strength, her physical strength, and the logistics of my plan seemed to become more complicated as I watched her barely able to lift her own arm to pick up a plastic cup.
Hope bloomed a little, though, when after nipping to the toilet, I came back to see her nurse helping her out of bed.
“Wow. Look at you.” They both turned their heads, both giving me smiles that were loaded with entirely different emotions.
“Come to this side, Jack. Help her to stand and support her weight a little. We need to get her moving as quickly as we can to avoid any long term complications and extra physio.”
Too Good Girl Page 16