by Marni Mann
“You’re doing well, Andi,” the nurse tells me with so much confidence, I almost believe her.
I’m anything but okay. I’m terrified. If she would just look at me, really look at me, she’d see me silently begging for help. But she is clueless, and before I know it, she’s leaving me with a smile plastered on her face. Her ponytail sways along with her hips until she’s gone.
Seconds later, Brooks is next to me with a manic grin of his own. “Good girl,” he whispers.
The bile rises when he leans forward and presses his lips to mine. It’s impossible for me to kiss him back, but he still takes what he wants, applying more pressure, as he deepens the kiss.
Seconds feel like hours, and when he finally pulls away, he has a firm grip on my jaw. Pain shoots through me from the force of his fingertips digging into my already swollen face.
“Keep this pretty little mouth shut, Andi, or I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”
When I nod, accepting my fate even though I’ll never go down without a fight, he lets go.
“What do you want, Brooks?”
“You,” he says, making it all sound so simple. “And, now that I’ve found you, I won’t be far.”
“Don’t do this,” I beg him.
He turns and creeps toward the door, walking with confidence, like he belongs here.
Nobody even cares.
Not a single person notices.
“Rest up, baby. I’ll be back for you soon.”
The second he’s gone, I grab the slip of paper and dial Clay’s number as fast as I can. It rings so many times, I worry he’s not going to answer.
Finally, his deep voice responds, “Hello?”
His voice is like music to my ears, and the tears begin to fall as my heart hammers in my chest. “I need you, Clay.”
“What’s wrong?” he says in a rush.
“He-he’s found me.”
Clay
I set down my burner phone and stare at it like flames are shooting out the top. The fire could be licking my skin, and I wouldn’t register the pain, nor would I move my hand away if I did.
I deserve it—the agony of the heat, the burning of my flesh.
I’ve really fucked up this time.
I was so worried about getting spotted at the hospital that I left Andi there all alone. Now, the man she fears—the man who has hurt her, abused her, scarred her—has found her. And her voice told me how terrified she was.
I should have been there. I should have stopped him from getting anywhere near her. I should have made sure she never had to see that bastard’s face ever again. I should have taken away all of her worry.
But, instead, I’m two hours away, just outside Philly, a whole state over. I’m helpless from here. I can’t even tell her I’m heading there now because, the second she told me that he found her, the phone went dead. I wonder if he heard her talking to me and then ripped up my phone number so that she couldn’t call me again. Or worse, if his hands are around her throat as I sit in this hotel room, looking up the directions so that I know exactly how many minutes it will take me to get to her.
“Is everything all right?” my mom asks from the other double bed.
Since I have a hard time sleeping, I went for a run early this morning and stopped to pick us up some breakfast. I didn’t expect my mom to be awake when I returned, but she was, and we just started eating when Andi called.
I pick up her phone from the nightstand and use the map app to find the directions to the hospital. It’s eighty-four miles from here, and there’s heavy traffic all along the interstate, which tells me there’s either an accident or the highway is full of commuters. I need to get to the bus station. I don’t know if any buses are going to New Jersey today, but I know I can’t waste any more time.
“That was Andi on the phone.” I throw my jacket over my shoulders and walk over to her bed, leaning down to give her a kiss. “She needs me. I’ve got to go.”
“Now? Why? What happened?”
I walk to the door and pause when my hand is on the knob. “He came for her, and he’s going to hurt her again.” I see the emotion fill her eyes. “I’m sorry I have to cut our trip so short.”
During the time I spent with my mom, I told her everything I knew about Andi and all that had happened between us, starting with our first conversation on the train up until I escaped down the back stairwell of the hospital. It’s much easier to speak about that than myself.
Mom and I both know where I should be this weekend. Not on a train, not in a hospital, and sure as hell not in a hotel room that was booked under my mom’s maiden name and paid for in cash.
“Oh God, no. That poor girl.” She gets up from the bed and grabs her purse and jacket. “I’ll drive you.”
“You don’t have to. It’s still so early and—”
“I want to, honey. I don’t know when I’ll see you again, and the ride will give us some more time together.”
New Jersey is in the opposite direction of her home in northern Pennsylvania, and I hate that she’s going to go so far out of her way. Normally, I would talk her out of it, but I don’t have time for that today. Every second away from Andi means he could be hurting her even worse.
“Fine,” I say, “but you’re dropping me off, and then heading straight home. You’re not sticking around and getting dragged into this whole mess.”
“Deal.”
She tosses the rest of our breakfast into the bags they came in and follows me out to her car.
When we get into the front seats, she hands the food back to me. “Eat up. You’re going to need your strength if you’re going up against an animal like that.”
As I bite into the egg sandwich, I pull up the directions and point toward the upcoming turn that she needs to take.
“Do you have a plan?”
I shake my head. “No. But I’ll come up with one once I get there.”
“What if he took her out of the hospital?”
“Jesus, I didn’t even think of that.”
The caller ID said Unavailable. I have a feeling that’s common for hospitals because they have so many outgoing lines.
“I’m going to call and find out,” I say, using her phone to look up the hospital’s number.
When someone picks up, I ask to be connected to room 416. It rings several times before a recording comes on that says the patient is unavailable.
“There’s no answer,” I tell my mom.
“Call back and find out if she’s still admitted.”
I click on the main number again and say to the guy who answers, “Is Andi Harper still a patient there?” On the train, Andi’s tablet had stuck out of her purse. Engraved on the top of the cover was her first and last name. I was thankful I saw it.
“Let me check for you, sir.” A few seconds pass before he returns to the line. “I’m sorry. I don’t have that information available at the moment.”
“What do you mean, it’s not available?”
“That name is not showing in my computer system,” he says.
“I don’t know what that means. Is she there or not?” I know this isn’t his fault, but I can’t hide the frustration in my voice.
“I don’t know, sir. All I can tell you is that information is not available at this time.”
“Can you tell me who’s in room four-sixteen?”
“No, I cannot. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Anything else? If I wasn’t so pissed, I would laugh.
“No.” I hang up and stare at my mom’s phone, unsure of what to do next.
“Maybe this has something to do with the train wreck, honey. Think of all the people who are calling the hospital, trying to interview the victims and get their side of the story. Don’t let this stress you out. I’m sure she’s still there.”
Even though her theory is solid, her voice tells me she isn’t convinced. Knowing my mom, she just wants to make this trip as tolerable as possible instead of listening t
o me freak the fuck out for the next two hours.
I don’t know what I’ll do if Andi isn’t at the hospital. Even if I had her cell number, which I don’t, I couldn’t call it because her phone was in her purse, and that burned on the train. I don’t have her address and don’t know where she works or what she does for a living. Where would I even start searching for her? I have to find her, no matter how long it takes me. I can’t abandon her, not again.
“Why don’t we discuss what’s going on with you?” Mom looks at me before turning onto the interstate. “You know, the issue you’ve been avoiding since you arrived in Philadelphia. Maybe you’ll feel less tense if you get some of it off your chest.”
Less tense?
Talking about the scandal makes me tenser. It’s just another thing that’s out of my control, so layered and toxic. And it doesn’t just affect me; it affects my mom, too. Once the news of the scandal aired, Mom’s life changed so much. Friends of hers turned their backs. Family talked shit to every news outlet that would listen.
“Adrian was always a greedy kid. I’m not surprised that his selfishness took down his entire team. He’s only in it for the money anyway,” an uncle said.
“I wouldn’t let my kids play with Adrian when they were little. He was a bad influence, and I knew it from the moment I met him,” a friend of my mom’s said.
“I wish we didn’t share the same last name. I don’t want to be associated with someone as corrupt as Adrian Dillon,” a cousin said.
That so-called family, the first ones to trash me, were the same ones who had reached out when I made it to the last Olympics. They were the ones who had called nonstop when the endorsements began rolling in and rumors of my net worth were mentioned on ESPN. That same cousin who didn’t want to share last names had sent me a Christmas list for her two kids, one of the items being a car for her soon-to-be four-year-old.
A car for a kid who wouldn’t be driving for another twelve years.
Fucking leeches.
So, it was just my mom and me for a long time. The only thing she wants is for me to be happy. And what I want is for her to get her life back. Where I take off and try to remain anonymous, she has to face the mess back at home. The questions. The criticism.
I hear the pain in her voice every time we speak. I now see the tiredness in her face. What the damage and the destruction have done to her.
She wants this to end as badly as I do.
“At this point, there’s nothing I can do to make things better,” I say. “It would be impossible to clear my name.”
“Why don’t you hire an attorney? Maybe they can help.”
“It would be useless. Any evidence that existed has now been destroyed; I can guarantee that. And anything that an attorney could dig up would have my signature on it, which would only prove that I knew. I signed everything that Ravi gave me. I didn’t even look at most of the papers because I trusted him.”
“But you didn’t know that Ravi was sabotaging the whole swim team, honey.”
I look out the window, watching Philly pass by the glass. I’ve been to swim meets here before. Ones in Jersey, too. Over the years, I’ve swum all over the country and traveled the world. I never thought that, when I came back here, I’d be on the run instead of inside a pool.
“You’re the only one who believes that, Mom.”
“Deep down, your teammates have to believe these allegations are false.”
If they do, those aren’t the words they’ve said to me.
The members of the team were my best friends. My family. When my dad died, they were the ones who forced me back into the water. They tore the bottle of vodka out of my hands and pushed me out of bed. Whenever the darkness tried to drown me, they would make sure I kept swimming.
I would never hurt them. I would never ruin their careers. And I would never do anything to jeopardize our friendships.
But I did do all of that.
“So, now what? You can’t keep living in New York, bartending, paying for your life in cash, running from your arrest warrant. Something has to give, honey.”
“I know, but it’s working for now. It’s just until I figure something else out.”
She’s fighting back tears. Tears that I’ve caused. Tears that keep her from living her life.
I hate that she’s in pain because of me.
I grab one of her hands off the steering wheel and hold it between mine. “Don’t cry. It’s going to be okay, Mom.”
That’s a lie, and it hurts as much as the ones I told Andi.
And the look in my mom’s eyes tells me she knows.
Andi
“Put the phone down, Andi,” Brooks says as his shadow looms in the doorway.
Hanging up on Clay sends my heart plummeting to the floor, especially after the nightmare that woke me from the darkness. I was hoping to hear his calming voice and for him to tell me he was coming for me, that the wait was over. But I have no idea if he’s anywhere near the hospital or if he’ll make it here in time.
I’m staring darkness in the face, and it looks meaner than ever—like one wrong move would push it further than it’s ever gone.
How could I have been so stupid? The second Brooks left, I should have called for the nurse and had her lock me inside this room or requested to be moved.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks as he creeps closer to the bed.
“Like what?” My mouth is so dry, my tongue sticks to the roof. It’s probably the medication, but the sight of Brooks has me paralyzed with fear.
“Like you hate me. We have something good, Andi. So good that I can’t let you leave. I love you too much.”
Move, I tell myself over and over. If I want to survive, I can’t stay in this bed.
Even though my body screams when I swing my legs over the edge of the mattress, I push with all my might to stand on my own two feet.
With one hand draped across my ribs, the other latches on to my IV pole, rolling it along with me. If I have to, I’ll slam it over his head and put him six feet in the ground.
“Baby,” he says with unforgiving concern, “get back in bed. You’re too weak to be standing.”
He has no idea how I feel, how he’s making my life ten times worse by spouting off his fucking demands about when I’m supposed to be resting.
“What do you want, Brooks? I thought you were leaving.”
Eerily calm, he closes the distance between us.
I back up as far as I can until I’m pressed against the wall next to the window. If the glass opened, I’d debate on jumping out. I’m only four floors up. How bad would the fall be? I’ve already survived a train crash. Surely, I can handle a four-story drop.
“Andi,” he whispers, “why’d you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you. Tell me why.”
Now he cares about what I have to say? I thought all he cared about was shutting me up.
“Because you keep hurting me,” I tell him as honestly as I can without shutting down.
I’m on the verge of a panic attack. My vision starts to tunnel, and the room tilts from one side to the other, like I’m trying to surf on the bleached hospital floor.
I wonder how many other people have died in this room. Were they as scared as I am? Or did they accept their fate, passing peacefully without a struggle? I’d do almost anything for the white blanket of comfort to wrap me up and pull me close. Anything.
Brooks braces his hands on either side of my head, his body pressing even harder against mine. Darting his tongue out, he swipes the skin on my neck, tasting me without permission.
“Don’t,” I beg him.
“Don’t what?” he asks. “Take what’s mine?” His hand slides up my thigh, his fingers inching beneath the thin fabric of my hospital gown.
“Brooks.” His name comes out weak and pathetic. Not at all the way I’m feeling inside. If I had enough strength, I’d grab his hair and slam his
head against the glass until it shattered enough for him to fall through the cracks.
“What, baby? Tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you.”
“Stop, please.”
He rips away my hand protecting my ribs and splays it over the bulge in his pants. “Look what you do to me, Andi. Just the sight of you makes me hard. If you keep begging, I’m only going to want you more.”
“Not here,” I tell him. “Not now.”
“You want to wait until you’re better? Until you come home to me?” The gleam in his eyes is almost hopeful. Hopeful that he won’t have to hurt me to prove a point, that I’ll come back to him of my own accord.
“Yes,” I lie. “I’ll wear your favorite lingerie—the red one you bought me for my birthday.”
He nuzzles his nose against my cheek and breathes me in. His hand slides higher until his fingertips tease the edge of my pussy. Silently, I beg him to stop, to let me heal, before he tries to seek revenge. I know I won’t be that lucky though. As long as he’s here, he’ll do whatever the hell he wants. He always does.
“The nurse will be in soon. She’ll find you.”
“Is that a threat, baby?”
“No, Brooks. I don’t want you to get in trouble. I love you.”
He steps away from me and pulls me by the hand to the other side of the room. As we walk in front of the door, I try to break free, hoping I can run into the hallway and get help, but he clamps his hand around my neck and pushes me into the bathroom. The scream that was building dies in a garbled mess of saliva.
“You love me, Andi?” he says as his spit hits me in the eye. “You’re a liar!”
The grip around my throat is so tight, he’s going to leave bruises—proof that he was here.
For the first time, I want him to press harder. To either end this or set me free. I can’t do it anymore.
As I sag against the weight of him, he slams the IV pole against the wall until it’s out of the way. I should be thankful he didn’t rip it out of my arm.
“Are you okay, Andi?” the nurse asks on the other side of the bathroom door.