Rattle His Cage: The Baxter Boys #4 (The Baxter Boys ~ Rattled)

by Charles, Jane

  At least that’s what she told her counselor.

  It doesn’t make sense. She wasn’t going to be homeless. There was a place for her at a halfway house.

  My phone dings again.

  Mary: Everything okay?

  No, it’s not fucking okay. I shove the phone back in my pocket. Mary’s in school, has things to learn, and doesn’t need to worry about my shit right now. It’s better to just not answer than to lie to her. Mary’s heart is too big and she might just leave school, or wherever she is, and come after me. It’s not her problem. It’s mine.

  I couldn’t even get into the high school earlier. I had no purpose being there so security wouldn’t even let me through the front door. Since being turned away, I’ve walked and gotten more and more pissed and anxious by the minute. Now, I’m outside the school. It’s going to be out in a few minutes and I don’t care how many people I have to talk to, I will find out what happened to my sister.

  The doors open and the kids start coming out. I don’t talk to the kids that look like they could be freshman because they won’t know a senior. Instead, I stop a group of kids that look like they could be graduating.

  “Do any of you know a Nina White?” I ask.

  “She don’t go here no more.”

  “She done graduated.”

  “Hell, I don’t know where she lives.”

  “Kept to herself.”

  “Weird. All brainy no fun.”

  Response after response from every student I stop, dozens of them, and none of them know where I can find her or where she works, and I’m left standing alone in front of the school.

  Rage fills me. “Where the fuck is she?” I yell right before I turn and punch my fist into the brick building.

  Pain slams through my hand as bones crunch. Blinding, crippling pain shoots up my arm. I drop to my knees as my eyes water. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I cradle my right fist against my chest as blood seeps through the fingers of my left hand. The throbbing is intense, and I have to swallow back bile so I’m not puking at the side of the building.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  I glance up to one of the guards I encountered earlier. “Didn’t find my sister.”

  “Taking it out on the building isn’t going to help.”

  “No shit, asswipe.”

  That was the wrong thing to say because he calls to someone on the radio and reaches for the club on his belt. I don’t give a damn. Nina is lost, gone to me, and there is no amount of pain they can inflict that is worse than what I’m feeling right now.

  “Hold up, Jim,” a guy in a suit says as he comes out of the building. Then the suit looks at me. “Mr. White.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m Mr. Morris. I was Nina’s counselor.”

  I pull myself up and stand on shaky legs. I don’t shake his offered hand because I don’t think he’d appreciate me getting blood on his. “Let’s go see if the nurse is here.”

  I don’t want a fucking nurse. “Where is my sister?”

  “I told Mrs. Kragen that I don’t know.”

  “She didn’t leave a forwarding address or anything like that?”

  “No, but she promised to.”

  Finally, hope again.

  “She’s still going to walk at graduation in May and already ordered her cap and gown. Plus, her transcripts weren’t ready in December.”

  “May?” That’s something, but it’s still months away.

  “Look, Mrs. Kragen gave me your contact information. I promise to pass it on to Nina when she contacts me.”

  “You swear.” I’m so fucking sick of promises that aren’t kept I’m not sure I can believe this guy.

  “I do. I lost my sister for a few years when my parents split. Mom took my sister and Dad took me and those two hated each other too much to care that my sister and I might have wanted to see each other. So, I do know exactly how you feel.”

  I lean against the wall as it sinks in that there isn’t a damn thing I can do until Nina decides to contact Mr. Morris or Mrs. Kragen and it sucks balls. “She’s going to walk at graduation.”

  “That was her plan last time we talked.”

  “When is it?”

  “May 24th.”

  I straighten, still holding my hand close and fighting the nausea from the intense throbbing pain. “Whether I find her before that day or not, I will be there.”

  “I fully expect you to be.” He looks at my hand. “Do you need an ambulance?”

  I finally take the uninjured hand away and looked down. My fingers are bloody and broken open, my knuckles are bruised and my hand is swelling. How many fucking bones did I break this time? “I got it.”

  “Nobody has heard anything, and he didn’t come back here?” I ask Christian, Ryan, and Zach. They are the only ones at home.

  “Nothing.”

  I’m pacing inside the brownstone. “He didn’t answer any of my texts today. Something is wrong.”

  The three of them share a look.

  “What?”

  “Dylan walks and disappears when he’s pissed or things are bothering him,” Zach finally says.

  “And that includes not responding to a text?”

  They share that damned look again, and I just get pissed. “So, when things don’t go as planned or how he likes it, he shuts everybody out and goes off alone.”

  Ryan shrugs. “It’s his way.”

  I look at each of them individually. “And you don’t fucking care?” I yell. “You know what today is. If he’s shut down it means he didn’t find Nina like he planned or she doesn’t want to have anything to do with him. Neither is a good place for him to be in, especially alone.”

  All three of them take a step back.

  It feels good to yell and gets rid of some of the tension that has been building up all day.

  Christian’s phone dings and he looks down. “Well we know where he is now.”

  “Where?” I ask anxiously.

  “In the emergency department at Bellevue. It seems he punched a brick wall.”

  “Holy shit!” Ryan says, but there is something in his tone. It isn’t shock or surprise that he hit the wall, just concern. Weird.

  He was pissed, so he hit a wall. “Let’s go.”

  The three of them grab their coats and follow me out. The text may have been sent to Christian, but it’s me that Dylan is going to be dealing with.

  Why do subways seem more crowded and slow when you need to get somewhere fast? We are packed in like sardines and I watch the stops as we pass, trying not to get pushed too far from the doors. As soon as those babies open at our stop, I’m out of here. I don’t care if the guys make it off the train or not, but I’m not going to risk not being able to make my exit because of crowds. It’s never happened before, but I’ve never been afraid the crowd would be too thick to let me off a train before either.

  As it slows to pull into the stop, I push my way through, not giving a damn if I’m rude. My blood is boiling right now, and the only person I have my sights set on is Dylan, and he better have a damn good excuse for ignoring me.

  It’s only two blocks to the hospital and I leave the guys in the dust. Their legs may be longer, but I’m in a damn hurry and they are just fucking strolling behind me. Maybe it’s me they are afraid of, but I don’t really give a damn.

  I stop at reception in the emergency department and ask where I can find Dylan White.

  She won’t tell me because I’m not family and not the person he listed as calling.

  Christian strolls up behind me and gives his name.

  “Room 15.” She buzzes the door.

  I march ahead and open it. I know this department. I’ve spent a lot of hours here and turn right and then left, heading straight to his room.

  44

  “You have displaced fractures of the fourth and fifth metacarpals and fracture of the dorsal hamate.” The doctor is pointing to the x-rays of my right hand. Two bones don’t look like the other
s.

  “So, what does that mean?” Other than it makes my hand hurt like hell.

  “It means you broke your pinky and ring finger when you tried to take your frustration out on a brick wall.” Mary says from the door to my room.

  Her eyes are hard and intense.

  Shit! She is pissed. I’ve seen Mary in a lot of moods, but irritation with her mom was about the angriest I’ve seen her.

  This Mary is kind of scary.

  “Mary?” Dr. Palmer says. “You know our patient?”

  “The idiot who punched a wall? Yep.”

  She stops and looks at the x-rays. “Surgery?”

  Dr. Palmer looks at me instead of answering. I just nod. It’s not like it’s a secret I’m trying to keep. I just wanted to kind of avoid telling her about my idiocy for as long as possible. That’s the reason I sent a text to Christian and not her. I know she’s not going to be happy that I ignored her today. I didn’t want to have to follow up with being an idiot too.

  “Probably wire stabilization. Dr. Cummings up in ortho should be down to consult shortly.”

  She just nods.

  “Do you have any questions, Dylan?” Dr. Palmer asks me.

  “No.” I sigh.

  “Then I’ll leave you two. Buzz for a nurse if you need anything.”

  As soon as he’s gone, Mary approaches my bed and gently touches my fingertips. You can’t see most of my hand because it’s wrapped and has an ice bag on top of it.

  “Color is good,” she says.

  So, she’s switched to nurse mode. Maybe she won’t yell at me now.

  Christian, Ryan, and Zach step inside and stare at me. I know the looks in their eyes, but they aren’t saying anything. They don’t have to. They want to know why the hell I punched something after all this time and why the hell I didn’t call one of them before I let my anger get the best of me.

  I don’t have an answer. I should have known better. I do know better, but that doesn’t help the fact that I busted my right hand.

  “So, things didn’t go so well today?” Christian asks.

  “She graduated in December.” My irritation starts to rise again, but I push it down. Getting pissed all over again and punching things solves nothing. I know that. I learned that lesson a long time ago. Or, at least I thought I did. Until today.

  “Plan?” Ryan asks.

  I tell them about my search of the neighborhood and about going back to the school and questioning the kids as they exited the building, hitting the building, and then what Mr. Morris told me.

  Mary isn’t looking at me, but at the computer in the room, then she takes my pulse and checks the IV bag.

  The guys are watching her too. There’s an underlying tension emanating from her, and I’m not sure what to expect.

  “So, worst case scenario, you have to wait until May,” Zach says.

  “Yeah.” That is a light at the end of the tunnel. I have to focus on that. I know where Nina will be and when, if I don’t manage to find her before then.

  Mary’s silence is kind of scary.

  A nurse comes in and injects something into my IV. “That should help with your pain.”

  They’ve already given me stuff, not that it did anything but dull the discomfort. But, it’s not like I can complain, I did this to myself.

  “Well…um….we’ll wait outside,” Ryan finally says.

  “Let us know what’s going to happen,” Zach says to Mary.

  She just nods. Her mouth is pinched.

  The three of them slink out of the room. I wish I could.

  After the nurse leaves, Mary sits down in the chair and looks at me.

  “Out with it.” This silence is killing me.

  “I try not to speak in anger,” she says.

  Well, at least I read her mood correctly.

  “A simple, fucking text and you didn’t even give me that.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Save it. This is a discussion we will have when we aren’t sitting in the middle of the emergency department for the world to hear. But, it is a discussion we will have.”

  I sure as hell am not going to push her. I don’t want to have the conversation either. I know I fucked up by not texting her, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.

  How badly did I just screw up? Enough that she’s going to kick my ass to the curb?

  My stomach tightens. I’ve got to make her understand.

  I can’t lose her. I just can’t. “I love you.”

  Shit, that is not what I meant to say. It’s too soon. Way too soon. Not that I don’t feel it. I do love Mary. I’ve been falling in love with Mary.

  “Well,” she stands. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

  With that, she leaves my room.

  Fuck!

  She didn’t say it back.

  Double fuck!

  Morphine or guilt. One or both.

  He loves me.

  Does he know what love is?

  When you love someone, you don’t ignore their texts. It wasn’t like I was hounding him, I just wanted to know that he was okay. It’s not like I’m going to be texting him constantly because we slept together. This was an important day for him, and I wanted to make sure all was good.

  Did he really mean it? That he loves me?

  Not that I didn’t want to hear it. Hell, I’ve been falling in love with that guy since I first saw him and more so each day.

  I’m just not sure I can trust him enough to return the sentiment.

  He didn’t text me back. He ignored me.

  I’m not needy, I’m really not. Just a simple courtesy of what’s happening so I don’t worry.

  I knew he’d be busy today. Hell, it’s not like I even expected to see or talk to him for days because of Nina, and I was fine with that. Just because we had sex didn’t mean I was going to get all clingy and shit. I’m not like that, and I can’t stand it when people are like that with me.

  But he could have returned one of my fucking texts.

  He loves me. Ha!

  “How’s Dylan?” Zach asks when I come out into the waiting room.

  I’d forgotten they were out here. I just knew I had to get away from Dylan. I’m still pissed and then he said the words that shocked the hell out of me.

  “Drugged.”

  “What’s the doctor say?” Ryan asks

  “Broken fingers.”

  “We know that. Has the ortho been down?” Christian asks.

  Shit. I forgot about the ortho. In Dylan’s state, with what they’ve pumped into him, he might not understand or remember what they tell him. “I’ll be back.”

  The nurse at the desk hits the buzzer so I can open the door and go back to Dylan. I’m walking a little slower now, not sure what to say to him after the “I love you.”

  What if he doesn’t even know or remember he said it?

  I need to see what drugs they’ve given him so far. Some of that stuff can make you say the craziest things that aren’t remembered later. I don’t want to confess my feelings if he’s clueless.

  Dr. Cummings is already there when I get back to the room, saving me from an uncomfortable situation.

  “There’s an opening tomorrow. We’re just going to admit you tonight and do surgery first thing.”

  “Admit?” Dylan looks at me, almost panicked.

  “Food’s not that bad,” I tell him.

  “When can I go home?” Dylan asks.

  “Tomorrow afternoon, probably.”

  “Probably?” His voice practically squeaks.

  “You’ll be okay, tough guy. I’ll bring you ice cream before they cut off your food supply.” For a guy who takes care of everybody he lives with, he’s like a little kid all of a sudden.

  “I don’t like hospitals,” he finally says.

  “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have tried to take out a brick wall.”

  As much as I want to hold onto my anger, I can’t. I’m still pissed and we are going to talk about co
mmunication, but he’s hurt and I’m pretty sure he’s scared too. Most people are if they’ve never had surgery, and I’m guessing that Dylan hasn’t. Now’s not the time for me to be on him. There’ll be plenty of time for that while he’s recovering.

  45

  Flowers from Joy. A stuffed dog from Zoe. Download for voice recognition software so I can keep writing articles until my hand heals from Mia. Soothing music CD from Kate. And a bedazzled ice pack from Alyssa.

  “You know I am going home tomorrow.” I tell the girls who have gathered in my hospital room.

  “You’ve had a shitty day and we wanted to make you feel better,” says Zoe.

  “Thank you,” I finally say.

  Every time someone walks by and sees all five girls around my bed they raise their eyebrows. I can guess what’s going on in their minds, but it’s so not the case.

  Zach walks in, followed by Ryan, Christian, Alex, Kelsey, and Sean. Alex stays at the far side of the room, and I think he turned a little green when he glanced at the IV in the back of my hand.

  “Get the door,” Zach whispers and Ryan closes it. Then Zach pulls something from inside his coat and puts it on the tray in front of me.

  My mouth waters. “You didn’t. A cheese steak from Shorty’s?”

  “Hey, you’re going under the knife tomorrow.” Ryan shrugs.

  “On my hand,” I remind him. “It not like they are cutting into my brain or repairing my heart.”

  “It’s surgery. They put you under. I don’t like it,” Kate says.

  I just shake my head. “So, just in case, you brought me a last meal from one of my favorite places.”

  Zach’s face colors. “We’ll don’t think if it that way.”

  “We just want you to eat something better than hospital crap,” Christian says.

  “And we’re worried about you,” Alex says from the back corner of the room. “You punched a wall.”

  “I’m aware,” I answer dryly.

  Alyssa unwraps the sandwich then picks it up to feed me.

  I take a bite and chew. “You know, I can feed myself,” I say after I swallow the cheesy goodness. “Only one hand is broke.”