Crazy Madly Deeply

by Lily White

  Resting my head against my pillow, I stared at the ceiling, wishing the drugs hadn’t worn off so much that sleep became impossible. I was going crazy with boredom by the time my door opened again, an older man in a fancy suit strolling through with briefcase in hand. Blinking in his direction, I didn’t recognize him, but I did recognize the determined woman marching in behind him.

  “Shouldn’t you be harassing people at the diner?” I asked, my voice teasing, my lips pulling into a grin.

  “That’s exactly where I would be if I weren’t busy saving your ass,” Angela snapped back. “But it is what it is and I’m busting you out of here now.”

  Turning to glance at Angela, the man shook his head and smiled. “Are you like this with everyone? I could use someone like you in my office.”

  “Get in line, pal. Everybody wants me,” she answered, the tinge of pride flashing behind her eyes. “Holden, this is John Grinshaw, the attorney who’ll be getting your dumb ass out of your current problem.”

  My gaze slid to Mr. Grinshaw to watch as he pulled a file from a briefcase and approached the bed. “You’ve kept me up late, Mr. Bishop. But only because you have friends in great places.”

  Confusion pulled my brows together. “Did Angela hire you?”

  Shaking his head, he dragged a chair to sit next to the bed and pulled a pen from his shirt pocket. “No, she did not. I was contacted by Dr. Lucas Silva regarding your situation and I agreed to help. We’ve already met with Ms. Paige and she’s signed the necessary paperwork. In fact, she’s waiting in the hall as we speak. Once you agree to my representation, I’ll have the police escorted from your door so that the two of you can talk.”

  “Dr. Silva?”

  I hadn’t thought about him in years, not since Deli returned home and I took the job at the diner. He was a good man. That much I remembered, but I didn’t understand how or why he was involved in the problem happening now. “How did he even know I was here? I haven’t seen him since they admitted me to the hospital.”

  Mr. Grinshaw smiled. “That’s because he left the hospital over a year ago and started a private practice in a town about two hours from here. He’s driving to the hospital to speak to you and Ms. Paige.”

  A memory flashed through my head, there and then gone again, it was a brief image that left a weight on my chest I couldn’t breathe past. Closing my eyes, I attempted to chase the image, but I couldn’t catch it, couldn’t recall why my heart hurt the moment it was there. “Why is he coming? I was shot in the leg. He’s a head doctor from what I remember.”

  “You’re correct. He’s a neurologist. But that’s for him to discuss with you when he arrives. The pressing matter now is this contract. Once you sign, I have authority to request the police release this room to visitors. They haven’t arrested you, Holden, and they’re pushing the boundaries of what’s legal by keeping you strapped to this bed and posting an officer at your door.”

  Not knowing what was going on, I looked to Angela. Obviously exhausted, her eyes had black smudges beneath them, concern written into the lines of her expression. “What should I do?” I asked her.

  “You sign it,” she answered, her voice leaving no room for argument. Trusting her implicitly, I didn’t bother asking another question.

  Wiggling my hand where it was strapped to the bed, I waited for Mr. Grinshaw to slip the pen between my fingers and hold the papers so that I could scribble as best as possible in the places he needed my signature. Once the contract was signed and dated, he removed the pen from my hand and stuffed the papers back into his briefcase. Standing, he stared down at me to say, “I’ll only be a moment. Until I return, Angela can stay in the room with you.”

  His eyes slid to her. “That is, as long as you can stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”

  She shrugged. “Hey, don’t look at me. I was downgraded from suspect to interfering with an investigation. Next thing you know, I’ll just be a nuisance and nobody will care about me anymore.” Swiping at a non-existent tear, she added, “It sucks to be invisible.”

  Mr. Grinshaw’s laughter filled the room. “Try to stay invisible while I’m gone.” With that he left and Angela approached my bed to steal the seat he’d previously occupied.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Ignoring her question, I asked my own. “Did you find my sister?”

  It didn’t matter how I felt, didn’t matter what would happen to me once Jack’s body was found. What mattered was Deli and Michaela, two women who didn’t need to become caught in the trap Tranquil Falls has laid out for me since the day I refused to conform and join the ranks of the football team. Until the day the coach begged me to play, I’d been nothing more than a shadow, a nobody, a person as forgettable as any stranger passed on the street. But the minute I turned him down - and thus snubbed my nose at Jack Thorne and Clive Stanton - I’d been a target worthy of the smear campaign that had destroyed almost everything in life that I’d loved.

  Angela’s eyes glanced away, the rims stained red and swollen as if she’d been crying. “Uh, yeah,” she answered, “I found her.”

  I wanted to feel relief at her response, but her eyes told me something was upsetting her, I just didn’t know what that something was. “Is she okay? Did they hurt her?”

  The volume of my voice climbed with every question, fear bleeding into anger until it was a toxic mixture pumping through my heart.

  Something was off in her expression, but she smiled regardless, placing her hand on my shoulder as if to comfort the chaotic fear pulsing just beneath my skin. “She’s exactly as she was before you were arrested. You don’t need to worry about that. She’s not scared, or in pain, or worried.”

  Relief weighed down on me like a heavy blanket, wrapping me in solace like the hugs my mother gave me as a child. Able to breathe again, I reached to squeeze Angela’s hand in my own. “Thank you.”

  With that worry off my plate, I caught her eyes and asked, “Michaela? Are they giving her a hard time? She didn’t do anything wrong, Angela. She doesn’t deserve being harassed and -“

  Her laughter cut off my words. “Are you kidding me, right now?” Shaking her head, Angela squeezed my hand before cocking a hip. “Your girl is something else, Holden. She’s been holding her own. I’ll admit when she first called me, I was pissed to find out you’ve had anything to do with her. But after talking to her, and after seeing how concerned she is for you, I may have to change my opinion. She’s stronger than she looks, even if she didn’t act like it while dating Jack.”

  Is it weird that pride surged through me at her words? I wasn’t the cause of Michaela’s strength. But I liked to think I was a catalyst. Perhaps truly loving a person can bring out their best qualities. Perhaps forgiveness can lift the veil of remorse to reveal the true character lingering beneath. No. Michaela’s strength was hers alone, every glorious bit of it. But had love, and a few harsh words spoken to teach rather than insult been part of the breeze that lifted the veil allowing her to step into a life where she was free to reveal who she’d always been inside?

  “I need to see her,” I whispered, the pain in my leg returning as the effects of the medications continued to taper. The fog in my head cleared away and, without the worry for Deli holding me hostage, I smiled despite the pain, knowing that Michaela wasn’t just fighting for herself, she was fighting for me.

  “You’ll see her as soon as your attorney gets the warden away from your door. Shouldn’t be too long. He freed Michaela in a matter of minutes.” Angela chuckled. “I guess the Tranquil Falls Police Department doesn’t like it when people who actually know the law start talking.”

  My appreciation bled away to be replaced with confusion. “Why would the doctor pay for my attorney?”

  Sighing, Angela took a few seconds before answering, “I’m not sure. But once the warden is gone, I assume we’ll find out. Just rest, Holden. Stop trying to put the cart before the horse. At this point, we just need to the two of you away from the poli
ce. After you’re free, we’ll discuss the rest.”

  Suspicion deepened inside me, barely tempered by the pain increasing in my leg. I was ready for more pain medications, but afraid to ask for them. The hesitation I felt from Angela concerned me, the feeling that there was more to this entire situation than I understood. But demanding answers from her was as good as trying to force a mule forward. She would only dig in her heels and tell me to wait for when she ready to divulge them.

  Gritting my teeth, I nodded my head and closed my eyes. I hoped the lawyer would hurry to get me released. Between the pain in my leg and the worry of not knowing, lying in this hospital bed was becoming utter torture.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Michaela

  Sitting in the hallways outside Holden’s door was an exercise in patience. With my head angled back against the wall and my eyelids closing with the need for sleep, I was too agitated to remain still for long, yet my body refused to allow me to pace around. Exhaustion was overtaking me, my thoughts chaotic while my brain protested the fact I hadn’t seen dreamland in almost twenty-four hours.

  Needing something to keep me in the present while the attorney and Angela walked in to speak with Holden, I kept my eyes trained on the police officer outside his door. Every time the son of a bitch looked at me, I smiled, mocking him for the losing battle I knew he was fighting when it came to keeping Holden for much longer. It was obvious they’d jumped to the conclusion that Holden knew more than he’d admitted. And the truth was that we both were lying through our teeth. But I refused to let Jack’s parting act from this world become a crime that would lay the blame at Holden’s feet.

  Was it wrong to lie? Possibly. But when weighing the morality of my decision against the lack of morality in how Holden had been treated by our town since he was a child, I had to side with what I felt in my heart was the right thing to do.

  After a few minutes, the attorney walked out of Holden’s room and I jumped up to hear what he had to say. He simply smiled at me and patted me on the shoulder, asking me to sit back down and relax while he made a few phone calls.

  Relax. Yeah, sorry. That wasn’t going to happen.

  Tapping my foot against the floor tiles, I leaned against a wall with the fear that sitting down again may lead to falling asleep. I had already yawned a hundred times and wasn’t willing to risk missing the moment Holden was finally freed for me to check on him. It hadn’t occurred to me until after his arrest how deeply he’d burrowed himself into my heart. What I felt for Holden was far deeper than anything I’d felt for Jack or other boys I’d dated in my past. My previous relationships had always been about the beginning, the racing heart when I saw them, the butterflies in my stomach that seemed to migrate away or die off once enough time had passed for me to learn that what I’d felt for those people was excitement rather than anything truly lasting.

  For Holden, the butterflies were still there, but the wind generated by their beating wings was more like a hurricane than a gentle breeze. It was undeniable to me that I genuinely loved the man locked behind that hospital door, that I would do anything or be anything if it meant he could reach his true potential.

  Maybe that was one of the hidden meanings of loving another person: Your life is no longer lived solely to achieve your own dreams, but to find happiness and value in helping them achieve theirs, as well.

  Within love, there is no room for selfishness or self-centeredness. To love is to blend two souls, neither one able to rest until both are nurtured and given room to grow.

  I hadn’t learned that lesson by watching my parents. My mother and father were too concerned with their own needs to truly care if the other person was happy. And in my relationship with Jack, I’d been pushed aside for his desires, his needs, his misguided pursuit of the greatness he would never achieve.

  It wasn’t until Holden that I learned that in a bond where two people cared for each other, happiness could be found when they both understand that to look out for the happiness of your partner was to trust your partner would look out for yours.

  I had so much trust in Holden. I could only hope that after this current problem was all said and done, I will have proven that he could trust me just as much.

  Footsteps sounded down the quiet hall and I wrenched my neck to look, the hope that it was the attorney returning with good news dying as soon as I saw a man I didn’t recognize. With black hair peppered with silver, the man was dressed in khaki slacks, black shoes, and a black coat dusted with snow. His eyes met mine from across the distance, kindness radiating from them as he approached.

  He didn’t need to check the room number to know this was Holden’s room. The policeman stationed outside the door was proof enough. After glancing at the guard, the man turned to me and extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Doctor Lucas Silva. Are you Angela, by chance?”

  Shaking my head, I quickly realized this was the man who’d paid for the attorney for both Holden and me. “No, Angela is inside with Holden. I’m Michaela.”

  His smile brightened. “I hope Mr. Grinshaw was able to help you, Michaela. He’s the best I know.”

  Matching his grin, I shook his hand. “I wouldn’t be standing here without him. He was able to get me out of the police station in thirty minutes flat.”

  Soft laughter shook Dr. Silva’s shoulders. “Yes, well, he’s a good man who loves what he does. And he’s been eyeing Tranquil Falls for a while now. You and Holden happened to be the first case he could legitimately use to counter the corruption within its police force.”

  A throat cleared behind us, and we both turned to see the police officer glaring our direction. I scowled, but Dr. Silva merely smiled. Returning his attention to me, he touched my arm as if to lead me away from Holden’s door. I resisted, at first, but when he explained he preferred to speak away from curious ears, I walked with him.

  Led to another room, I walked inside the dim interior, turning just as Dr. Silva opened the door and flicked a switch to illuminate the space. Directing me to sit down, he dragged a chair over to sit opposite me. It was obvious by his expression that he was tired, but there was also a keen determination behind his eyes.

  “We have several different issues occurring at the same time, Michaela. One, I’m sure you’re aware of, is the biased intentions of the police investigating both you and Holden for the disappearance of that boy. Another is information I’ve had for several years that has bothered me since patients presented with strange complaints. And the third, and perhaps the most troublesome at the moment, is the truth about Holden and his sister. I’m hoping you can help me with all these issues, if not through legal means, but by providing me information that will help me remedy all three.”

  Confused where he was going with this, I asked what I believed was the most pressing question. “What happened to Delilah? And are you aware that Holden still believes she’s alive?”

  His expression fell, true concern floating across his gaze as the corners of his lips turned down, the perfect posture of his body slumping back against his chair. “I wasn’t aware, per se, but I’ve had my concerns. Although I was surprised to hear from my former nurse tonight about Holden being in the hospital, I wasn’t blatantly shocked when I learned that he hadn’t accepted his sister’s death. I’d assumed as much two years ago after she passed, but I had few resources at my disposal to help him. Unfortunately, the laws in this state make it difficult to counter mental health problems, those occurring genetically or as a result of head trauma, without a patient’s consent, unless of course the patient presents as a danger to themself or other people.”

  Wringing my hands in my lap, I stared at him, the exhaustion I’d felt earlier all but gone as worry coursed through my veins and forced my heart to increase in pace. “I’m not sure what you mean. Are you saying Holden has mental issues?”

  He crossed his legs at the knee, his kind eyes holding mine. “I’m not sure. I’d like to hear about any unusual behavior you may have observed before I ca
n even begin to decide what we’re dealing with.”

  A breath escaped my lungs, shaky and filled with so much tension that it was bleeding into the room, the four walls suddenly closing in and oppressive. “When I first went to Holden’s house, he told me his sister was alive. She wasn’t there, obviously, but he said she was visiting family for the holidays. I had no reason to believe it wasn’t true. Nobody in town really knew what happened to Delilah. There wasn’t a grave by her parents or anything, so I just assumed Holden was telling the truth.”

  “Go on,” he softly prodded, the details I was giving him being logged and analyzed behind his kind eyes.

  “It wasn’t until Delilah came home that I noticed she wasn’t actually there. Holden insisted she was, but I haven’t seen her. If what I’ve learned since coming to the hospital is true, Delilah didn’t survive the injuries of her accident, so I think it’s safe to assume Holden is hallucinating. Right? Which would mean Holden has a mental illness?”

  Dr. Silva gave my question some thought before asking, “Did you ever witness Holden speaking to his sister? Or to anybody who wasn’t there in front of him?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  He nodded. “Then it’s impossible to determine whether Holden is hallucinating or simply suffering from a delusion, based solely on what you’ve told me.”

  My brows tugged together. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

  “Not necessarily,” he answered softly. “One is the inability to distinguish between what is real and what is not. Seeing or hearing something that isn’t there and believing it’s real would be a hallucination. A delusion, on the other hand, is a belief somebody has, despite evidence pointing to the contrary. It’s possible that Holden is hallucinating, which led to a long term delusion that his sister never died. However, a delusion would not create a hallucination. Given Holden’s previous head injury, I’m inclined to believe hallucinations may have played into a longstanding delusion. But without testing, I can’t be sure of the exact cause. What has he told you about his sister?”