by Marni Mann
I’m anything but okay. I’m dying a slow and painful death.
Brooks gives me a warning glare, piercing me with disdain. “Tell her you’re fine,” he whispers in my ear. “Make her go away.”
I swallow four times before I can get the words to form. When I can slow my breathing enough to speak, I do as he asked, hating that she is so close but can’t do anything to help. “I’m okay. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Let me know if you need help getting back in bed. Just press the button.”
“Okay,” I tell her as fresh tears fall. “Thank you.”
Brooks licks the tears off my face with an evil grin. “Your pain is delicious, Andi. The only thing that tastes better is your fear.”
As he says the words, his finger slides to my clit. “God, I missed you, baby.”
Biting my lip, I wait for him to take.
I wait for him to show me the monster that he is.
I wait to die. Because, even if I survive this moment, another piece of me will be gone forever. And there aren’t many left.
Clay
I skip registration and slip inside the emergency department, rushing to the end of the hallway and up the same staircase that I used to escape yesterday. I don’t stop until I reach the fourth floor. Andi’s room—or the room she was in before I left her—is at the end of this hallway. The only way I can confirm that she’s still in this hospital is to go to her room.
If the bastard is in there with her, I can’t just tell him to stay the fuck away, pick her up in my arms, and carry her out. I have to come up with a plan first.
So, keeping the New Jersey Devils hat low on my face, the one I purchased a few blocks away, I slowly walk down the hall. The nurses’ station is the halfway point. Andi’s room is only a couple of doors down from it. Three nurses sit behind the circular counter—two of them typing, the third on the phone. None of them look at me as I pass.
As I near Andi’s door, I hear someone speaking inside. It’s a woman’s voice—and it isn’t Andi’s.
“What are you doing here, Brooks?” the woman asks.
“Andi is my girlfriend. What the fuck do you think I’m doing here? The real question is, what are you doing here, Camille?”
“Andi is my girlfriend.”
My hands clench into fists, my fingers grinding into the bandage protecting the gash on my palm. No amount of pain will get me to straighten my fingers. At some point today, Brooks will know what my fist feels like. He’ll see it coming straight for his fucking face. And he won’t be able to do a goddamn thing about it.
“She’s my best friend,” Camille says. “The second I heard about the accident, I couldn’t think of being anywhere else but here with her.”
“Now, that’s interesting,” Brooks says. “Camille knew about the accident and knew where to find you. Did you tell her you were running away, Andi?”
I lean against the wall, staying closer to the neighbor’s door, so the three of them can’t see me in the hallway. I could have stopped a few doors down, and their voices still would have been clear. Neither of them is trying to be quiet.
“Andi, don’t answer that,” Camille snaps.
“You both need to stop,” Andi says. “I can’t think with the two of you screaming at each other.”
Camille sighs, and the sound is full of hatred. “Andi, I’ll be right back. I think I need some coffee.”
When Camille storms out of the room, I turn my back to her and make it look like I’m going into the next room. I watch her go all the way down the hall until she reaches the restroom, and she hurries inside, the door shutting behind her.
The cafeteria is on the first floor; she isn’t searching for any coffee.
I walk in the same direction, and I make sure no one is looking before I step inside the restroom. Camille’s at the sink, holding a paper towel underneath her eyes, catching the tears that fall. From the mirror, I can see her chest heave, her shoulders shake, her chin quiver.
She feels defeated.
I will fix that.
I push my back up against the door to keep it closed. “Camille?”
She turns around and faces me. “This is the ladies’ room—wait, how do you know my name?”
“I came in here to talk to you.” I stay at the door, so she won’t be afraid, and I take off the hat, shaking my hair so that it falls by my ears. “I know you’re Andi’s best friend.”
The tears stop, and she reaches inside her purse. I now see the anger that I heard in Andi’s room.
“I have pepper spray in here. Don’t take a step closer, or I’ll blast you in the fucking eyes.” She holds the black spray bottle in her hand and points it toward me. “Are you friends with Brooks Fletcher? Is that why you’re here?”
“I’m not friends with Brooks. I’m friends with Andi. I met her on the train. I don’t know how much time you’ve had to talk to her, but I was the one who carried her off. She was unconscious after bouncing between the floor and the ceiling while the train car tumbled.” I can tell I haven’t sold her yet, but it appears as though I have her attention, and no pepper spray is shooting out at me. “I know about Brooks. I know what he did to her, what he continually does to her. She called me when he found her at the hospital. I came here to help her.”
“She didn’t mention you, but I suppose she didn’t have the chance to.” She stares at me, taking in my face, my appearance. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
I shrug. This isn’t the time for that.
“If you really know Andi, then prove it to me. What color purse did she have on the train?”
I almost laugh at her question. Details aren’t really my thing, but I did notice Andi’s bag, only because it was in the same hand that I tried to hold before she yanked it away from me.
“It was yellow. She’s a Yankees fan. And she has one hell of a smart mouth when she gets pissed.”
Camille smiles. “Damn straight. That’s my girl.”
I take several steps forward, holding out my hand for her to shake. I think about what name I should use, and only one feels right. “I’m Adrian.”
“Adrian…holy fuck. You’re Adrian Dillon. I knew you looked familiar.”
I’m surprised that a look of disgust doesn’t cross her face as she continues to stare at me, that she still shakes my hand and doesn’t immediately release it.
“I go by Clay now. In public, I mean.”
She nods. “I get it. What does Andi call you?”
“She’s called me by both names.”
I’m not sure if Andi even realized it at the time, but right before the crash, she alternated between my names, depending on how stern she wanted to sound.
“Adrian, tell me you have a plan to get her away from Brooks.”
“I do.” I lean my back against the sink next to hers and cross my arms. “You’re going to have to carry most of the weight here.”
“I’ll do whatever you need me to.”
“Do you know when Andi’s getting discharged?”
She wipes her face again, making sure her cheeks are dry. “The whiteboard in her room had today’s date listed under the discharge schedule. I’m assuming they’re waiting for her doctor to sign off, and then case management will be by to walk her through the next steps.”
They probably want to turn the bed as quickly as possible. I worry that doesn’t give us much time.
“This has to happen before she’s discharged. The only way we’ll get her out of her room without Brooks is if she’s taken somewhere for more testing. If you take her, he’ll follow you. That’s why a nurse needs to take her. She can put Andi in a wheelchair, and I’ll meet them somewhere. Once the nurse leaves, I’ll take Andi out of the hospital.”
“And how are we going to get a nurse to do this?”
“You’re going to tell the nurse the truth. If I do it, she’ll think I’m a jealous ex-boyfriend looking to get Andi alone. But, if you tell her that you’re worried about Andi’s safety,
there’s a good chance she’ll listen and want to help. You can even convince the nurse to talk to Andi alone, so Andi can confirm it.”
“You think I can do all this?”
Camille looks like a smart woman. There’s confidence in her words and charisma in her demeanor. Her emotions got the best of her back in Andi’s room, but I have a feeling she isn’t someone to fuck with.
“Yeah, Camille, I know you can.”
I let her sit on that for a few seconds.
“You know, this could work,” she says. “But, once we get Andi downstairs, where are you going to take her?”
“I’m going to teach her how to hide.” I glance down at the ground, knowing this isn’t the kind of life I want for her. No one should have to live the way I do. But, if it means keeping her safe, then that’s what needs to be done. “I’ll get her a new cell phone, so she can call you. Don’t worry; you’ll always know where she is.”
It appears like she’s thinking about everything I said. I don’t blame her. The only things Camille knows about me, I assume, are what’s been reported in the news lately. None of what they’ve said about me has been good. And, now, I show up to the hospital, out of nowhere, and want to kidnap her best friend. If she’d immediately agreed, I would have questioned their friendship.
“All I’ve wanted is for her to get the hell away from Brooks,” she says. “Yesterday was her chance, and somehow—God, somehow, he was able to get her back. This will be the last time he’ll ever have his hands on her, do you promise me that?”
I grind my teeth together as I think about his hands on her. I didn’t see it from the hallway since I wasn’t able to see any of them. Had I witnessed him touching her, I don’t know if I would have been able to stop myself from going inside that room and beating the man to death.
“I promise,” I say through gritted teeth. The pain in my palm reminds me how hard I’m squeezing. “You have my word.”
“I believe you.” She looks at my hands, my teeth, and I have a feeling she isn’t done speaking. “I know what she sees in you. I saw it the minute you started talking about her. You’re going to save her, Adrian. I can see it in your eyes, and I can feel it in your words. You’re going to stop my girl from drowning.”
And, in some way, Andi is going to stop me.
“I am,” I say.
She throws the paper towel in the trash and takes out her cell phone. “What’s your number?”
As I say the numbers, she types them.
“If Brooks goes into the hallway, which I think he will, I don’t want you to see him, and I don’t want him to see you. So, wait downstairs in the restroom on the third floor, and I’ll text you the second I talk to the nurse.”
I don’t like the thought of being so far away. I fucking hate the idea that someone else is in control of this. But I know this is the right plan, and I know I have to trust Camille to do what’s best for Andi.
“Okay.”
As she walks past me on her way to the door, she stops, her fingers now resting on my shoulder. “Keep your cell phone in your hand and everything on your body crossed. We’re going to need some luck today.”
Andi
With the threat of Camille returning any minute, Brooks stays near the door, watching me, as the nurse unhooks my IV and frees me from the pole. He easily morphs into the loving boyfriend I fell so hard for. The one who took me to dinner just because. The one who sat through a chick flick because he knew it’d make me happy even though he had no interest in seeing it. When it came to loving Brooks, it was the little things that swept me off my feet. I didn’t need a grand gesture.
“I’m so ready to take you home, baby,” he says.
He leans down and kisses my lips. But I don’t kiss him back, and I’m sure I’ll pay for it later.
“Is she ready to go?” Brooks asks the nurse as he sits on the end of my bed and rubs my leg through the sheet.
Instinctively, I bend my knee and try to move away from his touch, but he grips my ankle and pierces me with another warning.
Another strike.
“The doctor is finishing his rounds, and then he’ll be working on Andi’s discharge papers. As soon as he signs off, I’ll let you know.”
I say a silent prayer that the doctor is taking his time. Because, as long as Brooks is here, I have no chance of getting away without him following. He’ll usher me into his car and drive me to his condo. It’ll be like the accident never happened, and I’ll go right back to being his punching bag.
As soon as the nurse leaves the room and we’re alone again, Brooks leans on my leg with all his weight and stands up. The pain cuts like a knife.
A disgusted expression now replaces the fake smile he plastered on for the nurse. “Would it kill you to act like you care about me for five seconds, Andi? It’s fucking embarrassing, the way you treat me. I love you so much, and you can’t even kiss me back.”
“You don’t love me,” I tell him. “If you did, you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Back talk. He’ll use that against me, too.
“Oh, come on. You act like it’s miserable living with me. I give you everything.”
It is miserable, but instead of starting another fight, I try to ignore him. If these are my last moments of freedom, I’d rather spend them in silence. Before I’m back to being a prisoner.
“Andi?”
I turn my head toward the door and find one of my favorite nurses—the one who seems like she knows but never looks at me with pity. She’s always treated me like I am strong despite being broken. Like maybe she understands what being in my shoes is like.
“Come in,” I tell her. Now’s the perfect time for a visit because being alone with Brooks terrifies me.
Brooks makes no effort to move away from the bed or to welcome her. As far as he’s concerned, she’s just another person who’s sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Someone who’s trying to delay the inevitable.
“Looks like the doctor ordered one last therapy session before you’re released.”
Considering the therapists have always come to the room, I wonder why she’s taking me to one now. But I don’t question it because it’ll get me away from Brooks for a little while. That’s the main goal right now.
Though they’re meeting for the first time, she doesn’t try to shake Brooks’s hand or exchange pleasantries before she wheels me through the doors. All she says is, “I’ll have her back in a bit.”
Brooks hesitates, like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with himself. “How long will Andi be gone?” he asks her.
“About a half hour. I’ll bring her back here as soon as we’re finished. If you click the monitor next to the bed, you can use the Internet or watch a movie.”
He nods, but I can tell he doesn’t like the fact that I’ll be out of his sight. I, on the other hand, have never been so grateful to sit in a wheelchair.
The nurse stays quiet, like this is another routine patient being wheeled to another floor. But, as soon as the elevator doors close and we’re alone, she squats in front of me and smiles. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“How’d you know?” I ask her.
Because, while I’ve been trying so hard to keep the past in the past, she’s seen it all along.
“The bruises on your body are from the train, but some of them are from him, aren’t they?”
Biting my lip, hating that she’s been able to see right through me the entire time, I nod. “Yes.”
“How long, Andi?”
“Years,” I admit with shame. Shame because I’ve stayed. Shame because I want more for myself but have always been too afraid to go after it. And shame because I continue to make excuses. “It wasn’t always this bad. We had happy times, too.”
The happy times are the only justification that keeps me from feeling like a complete failure.
“I hear that a lot. But love doesn’t tear people down, Andi. It builds people up.”
The elevator door
s open onto the third floor where Camille is standing. Tears flood my eyes when I realize she made this happen. She took matters into her own hands and did whatever she had to do to get me away from Brooks.
I glance at the nurse and smile. “You’re working with Camille.”
Nodding, she says, “Camille is a very persuasive woman. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I let you leave with him.”
“Thank you,” I whisper as I struggle to stand from the wheelchair and wrap my arms around her neck. “I can’t believe you’re risking your job for me.”
“Women like us have to stick together,” she says unexpectedly. “He hurt you, but he hasn’t destroyed you, Andi. Your wounds will heal. Now, let your spirit bleed.”
I’ve always believed in guardian angels. When I was all alone and nobody ever came to save me, I prayed one would fall out of the clouds to rescue me.
Camille helped me find my voice.
Clay got me through the accident.
And, now, the nurse is setting me free.
Whether angels are real or figments of our imaginations, I have three of my very own, doing everything in their power to make me fly. Because of them, I have another shot at freedom.
It isn’t over.
Not until I say it is.
Camille takes my hand and leads me toward the stairs. When she opens the door, Clay’s standing on the other side, leaning against the wall.
A moment of silence passes between us. Camille squeezes my hand, encouraging me to go to him.
I take two shaky steps, looking into his eyes the entire time. It’s like being reunited with my missing piece. “You came.”
“I never should have left. I’m sorry, Andi.”
I can’t tell if he’s waiting for me to yell at him for taking so long or if he’s expecting me to turn around and walk away. By now, he should know that’s not possible. Wherever he is, that’s where I want to be.
“Is that your replacement, Hat Boy?”
An amused grin stretches across his face as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a matching Devils cap, just like the one he’s wearing, and slips it onto my head. “That’s better,” he says.