by K. L. Jessop
“So if Tessa is not in any trouble, when can Dexter see her?”
His body goes rigid, but I keep my line of sight on DI Bromley.
Glancing at Emmet, she turns to Dexter and gives him her full attention. "Mr Wilson, although at this time we cannot go into much detail due to the case we are working on, I still feel it’s important that we are honest with you."
"Okay."
"Our duty doctors have been taking care of your sister, but Tessa's mental state is not good. Meanwhile, we need to establish what caused her to be so disturbed that we needed to arrest her when we found her."
He looks at Emmet. "You arrested her?"
I don’t know about Dexter, but Emmet himself looks like he’s been to battle. The distress in his features is not just for Dexter. There is more to Tessa’s story and I know it’s that that Emmet is struggling with. He’s been part of Dexter’s life for so long and he’s torn between family and work and is trying to find a level in order to hold the two together.
He sighs heavily, placing his hands on his hips. “Dex, when we found her, although we could see she was distressed, our officers had a job to do and removed everyone from the house. Unfortunately, Tessa lashed out when we tried to get near her, and she assaulted an officer which led to her arrest. Now, in my opinion…” He glances at Bromley and I can see the dissatisfaction in his eyes. “Tessa should never have been detained as it was clear she needed medical assistance from the start. However, the officer took it upon himself to oversee that.”
“Clear she needed medical care?” Dexter’s eyes are full of fury and sorrow.
“Mr Wilson, I must add that at the point of your sister’s arrest she was still somewhat cooperative,” Bromley states.
“So where is she now?” I ask, now going over to Dexter because I can’t bear the thought of him not having anyone to hold. He welcomes me in his arms and I squeeze him tight. His body is still clammy, his heart is racing hard.
Emmet’s eyes fall to the floor and his words follow with a vulnerability that’s painful to hear. “She’s currently in hospital on the psychiatric ward waiting to be transferred to a unit.”
“Sectioned?” I whisper.
“God, no…” Dexter breathes.
“I'm so sorry, Dex."
Taking something out of her jacket suit pocket, Bromley hands Dexter a white envelope. “Mr Wilson, once Tessa is stable, you can see her. In the meantime, Sergeant Michaels thought you’d appreciate this.”
But Dexter doesn’t respond. Pulling away from me, he leaves my embrace and heads towards the room where Tessa’s paintings remain, picking up the bottle of JD on the coffee table as he passes. Just before he closes the door, he says his final words without looking back—words that leave us all in silence and have my heart pounding with uncertainty and worry about what will now become of his own mental state.
“You can all go now.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Dexter
I don’t know how long I’ve sat in this room over the years and been mentally searching for Tessa, but right now feels like the weight on my shoulders has only got heavier as I come to terms with the fact that she is alive.
For so long I’ve tried not to believe that she is dead; I’ve kept telling myself not to give up hope because one day I will find her, but now she’s here, in London, and has been alive all this time… It’s just too hard to comprehend.
Looking down at the mugshot photograph that Bromley has given me, fresh tears fill my eyes as Tessa stares back at me: a girl so familiar, yet I hardly recognise.
Her hair is still blonde, her blue eyes that had once sparkled have no life in them and her collarbones are too prominent. She’s too thin. She looks so fragile and it hurts just holding her in print.
Emmet is right. She looks like I’ve always imagined she would, but as much as that brings me comfort, it’s also laced with an agony that wrenches me.
Why haven’t I been able to find her before now? All these years and all these paintings staring back at me have meant something. They have been my purpose when I never knew it. They have been my lifeline that kept me breathing when I’ve wanted to give up and this photograph is evidence that my mind is not as fucked up as I believe. I’ve known all along what a beautiful woman she would turn out to be. I’ve never lost her in my memory, so why have my eyes been too blind to find her?
I should be feeling relief. I should be feeling thrilled that I’ve got closure. I should be feeling anything other than what I’m feeling now, knowing I’ve got answers. She’d been taken because of our mother and her own poisonous ways, not mine. For too long, I’ve blamed myself and I should be relieved there is a true person to blame.
But I’m not.
I still believe in all of this that it was me who failed her from the start.
It’s another mark of failure on my heart and another scar on hers that can never be repaired. But what breaks me is knowing she’s riddled with an illness of some sort that has put her in care. Bipolar or worse? I don’t know. I worry I’ll not have the strength for either of us, not now I know she needs more support than even me. How can I care for another when I find it hard to look after myself at times? I feel like I’ve failed before anything has truly begun.
I failed her then.
I’m failing her now.
I’ll fail her again.
“I’m so sorry, Tessa,” I whisper, my silent tears falling as I hold the picture of her against my chest. “All this time I’ve been asking you to show me the way—help me out when I’ve felt so lost—but now… now I’m more terrified than ever.”
I want to see her, of course I do but what will happen if I do? What if we are both just as lost and can never be found? What if I bring her down further in the recovery she so desperately needs? “Show me, Tess. Tell me what to do.”
Needing to calm the turmoil, I pour myself a shot of JD and throw it back in one hit. I’ve brought the bottle in here with a plan to get shitfaced, hoping it will drown the exhaustion away, give me guidance. But the truth is, I’ve not touched a drop until now. Every time I’ve looked at the bottle, longing for the burn to hit my bloodstream, Pepper’s face has clouded my vision stopping me.
My guidance.
She is what I need now. She fills my bloodstream with a love so compelling it overpowers everything I thought I needed.
I miss her, and I hate the fact I’ve no doubt concerned her with my abrupt departure earlier as I carried the bottle of poison in my hand. I hope she understands that I hadn’t been able to listen to anymore. I was being physically battered from all angles and I’d needed space. Silence.
But I miss her.
The need to have her body against me has me standing from my place on the floor and heading out of Tessa’s room. The soft glow from the bedside lamp on the floor draws my eyes to the mattress. The small frame I see sleeping peacefully in the sheets brings warmth to my heart for the first time all night.
My Blue.
She stayed.
Stripping off my jeans and T-shirt, I climb into bed, shifting myself towards Pepper. My life, my existence, had been just a black hole before her. Now she’s giving me something to fight for. She’s given me a reason, and I don’t know what I would do without her. “I need your strength again, Blue,” I whisper, running my hand over her hair. “You know I can’t do this without you.”
“Dexter?” Her sleepy voice is a breathy whisper as she reaches out for me. “You okay?”
“I’m sorry. I just needed a little space. I’m not drunk; I couldn’t drink it,” I admit. “I couldn’t drink it because I’d made a promise to not rely on it. I’d made a promise to you.”
As she moves closer, she lifts her head so I can snake my arm around her shoulders. Her face lays against my chest as she trails her fingers up and down my torso. I’d never realised someone would make me feel so secure with just a touch, a smile, their breath on my bare skin.
“Emmet rang earlier. He wen
t back to see Tessa after work. He’ll let us know when they say she is up for visitors.”
It gives me comfort to know that Emmet is there for her, even when she has no idea how much of a friend he is to me. “Did he say if she said anything?”
“She’s still not speaking, but the doctors are keeping a close eye on her.”
My heart compresses at what the reason could be for her to be so unstable; I dread the worst. “What are your thoughts in all of this? Why do you think she’s so unwell?”
“I don’t know. But if she was so distressed when the officers got close, my guess is that she’s got a lot of fear running through her. We just need to work out why.”
I let out a heavy sigh, the weight of it all getting too much.
“Dexter, I know you want to run and hide, and I know there is so much anger in you over realising who is truly responsible in all of this, but you have to be strong. You can’t give up on Tessa now when she needs you the most. She needs to know that she has you because I’m guessing she’s felt alone all this time just like you have.”
But what if she hasn’t?
What if her life has been far better than mine, regardless of who she’s been mixed up with? What if she doesn’t want everything I’ve wanted since she was taken? What if all this time I’ve thought of her, she’s never thought of me because I let them take her?
The anxiety inside is like acid as the thought of the unknown plays games with my head.
"A part of me wants to see her, but the other… I don’t know if I want to."
"Why?"
"I'm terrified, Pepper. What if she doesn't want anything to do with me? What if she blames me for letting her go?"
Tilting her head up to look at me, she cups my jaw. "I can't answer those questions because I don't know what Tessa has been through. But whatever her state of mind, she will have to adjust to this just like you. You’ll have to be patient. But you can’t give up on her, Dexter. She’s your sister, and she will learn that none of this is your fault. Whatever she has been through or is still going through, she will need to know that you are there for her if she’ll let you. This could be a chance for you to have your family back again.”
And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.
“Will you be there with me?” I ask, knowing she will be but needing to hear her say it and reassure me anyway.
“You know I will be. Just promise to keep talking, no matter how much you want to shut down.”
“I promise.” And I will.
“I love you so much it hurts, Dexter. I’m so proud of you.”
Finding her eyes in the soft glow of the light, I run my fingertips over her cheekbone. This woman is my everything. “Thank you for loving me, Pepper, even when I’m at my weakest.”
“Loving you at your weakest is what makes you become your strongest.”
I pull her closer. “Tell me everything is going to be okay.”
“I don’t have to. It may not be easy. It may feel like you’re fighting a war at times and you may even want to give up—and that’s okay—but you have to keep going. Have faith in yourself, Dexter because I believe you can do this.”
As I press my lips against hers, I absorb her heat and bathe in her positivity, hoping that what she says is true.
Everything may turn out okay in the end but it’s what happens beforehand that frightens me, and as much as I want to believe I have it, I don’t feel I have the strength in me to keep going.
“How are you doing, Mr Wilson?” a male doctor asks as he walks towards us.
For some reason, I’d been expecting him to be wearing a white coat given the place we are in, but he’s just in regular shirt and trousers with a bright smile on his face.
It’s been six days since I learned that Tessa had been found, and even though I’m yet to get my head around it, it’s slowly beginning to sink in.
I’ve painted her again, needing to find comfort somehow. I’ve had bouts of anxiety take my breath away with each new piece of information I’ve found out, which hasn’t been much but enough to cause an effect.
Tessa had been moved to a unit two days after being admitted to the hospital, and according to Emmet and my daily phone calls to check up on her, she is doing well considering. I’ve wanted her to settle somewhat before I see her. Her state of mind hasn’t been great, and I haven’t wanted to add extra pressure on her by reuniting too soon.
Now that I’m here and today’s the day I finally get my sister back, it’s no lie when I say that I feel physically sick at the thought of seeing her.
“Please, call me Dex,” I reply, shaking his hand.
“Dex, I’m Dr Hensley, Tessa’s psychiatrist. I’ve been monitoring her progress since she arrived with us and will be in with you both when you meet.”
“How’s she doing?” I ask, feeling like the walls are already closing in on me the longer I stand in the long white corridor.
“She seems a little restless today, which is understandable. We’ve talked with her often about your visit, but she hasn’t really spoken much since.”
“But she’s been speaking of you, Dex,” Emmet says. “So that’s a good sign, right, Doc?”
Is it? I’m not sure.
“Of course. In these situations, little steps are better than nothing at all. As impatient as you may be, Tessa needs time. She has a lot to cope with right now.”
Photos of myself have been given to her prior to our visit, extra therapy sessions of my own have been needed, but I don’t think anything will change how I feel. She may be speaking of me, but I’m still left in the dark with so many other things. The police are telling me fuck all about the investigation other than the fact they suspect Tessa has been the victim of abuse and that she will have a long road ahead of her. I still don’t know what state they actually found her in, and every time I quiz Emmet, not only does he shut me down and inform me that he can’t discuss it because it’s a police matter, I also see the discomfort behind his eyes which is fucking unnerving. The only good thing out of this is that Clyro, or whatever the fuck he’s called, is no longer a threat to the world as he’s been detained until trial.
“Are we any clearer about what’s happened to her yet?”
“As I said, she’s not talking much, and any time we try to get information out of her, she becomes too distressed. Right now, it’s all about keeping Tessa stable and comfortable, and at the moment, the only way we can do that is with medication to control her outbursts.”
“Sedation?” Pepper asks, squeezing my hand.
“Yes. Although, her dose has been lowered.” He sounds so confident yet it’s not making me relax whatsoever. “How are you feeling, Dex?”
Fucking terrified.
“Okay, I think. I’m not sure, to be honest.”
“It’s completely understandable. It’s a lot to take in.” His reassuring smile is doing fuck all to ease me, and if I hear one more person say ‘it’s a lot to take in’, I might just lose my shit.
“Shall we let her know you are here?”
Yes. No.
I can feel myself pulling back before I’ve even taken a step forwards, but Pepper and Emmet provide me with the strength I need to put one foot in front of the other as we head down the corridor.
Everything smells clean and fresh, but there’s a low murmur of noise seeping out through the cracks under the doors. People pass us, patients stare at us while others come at us wanting to touch us, chat to us and it makes me more on edge.
“Okay, so the visit will take place in one of our family rooms today. We felt that taking Tessa out of her room would be best as we can monitor her better while you reunite. Is there anything you want to know before I take you in?”
As he stops at a door, I stand in front of him, but my eyes glance at the window behind him. I can see movement; I can hear voices and nerves grasp me. Pepper’s hand tightens in mine as she looks through the glass, and my heart thunders in my chest.
“Dexter… she r
eally is beautiful,” she whispers.
“Can she see us?” I ask, taking a step back because I don’t want to upset her in any way with our sudden invasion.
“No,” Dr Hensley says, “The glass is mirrored. We can see in but the patients can’t see out.”
“Look at her, Dex. It might make you feel better to see her before you go in,” Emmet says, already standing at the window like this is no problem for him.
I'm so on edge, I can’t think straight. My palms are sweaty, and my chest is so tight.
Stepping to the side, more of the room comes into view. Again, it has white walls but coloured pictures line them. Two soft chairs are situated around a tiny coffee table and kids toys are placed in the corner for families that visit. I spot a woman inside in uniform—a nurse. She has a presence that makes me feel welcome instantly as she talks to who I assume is Tessa.
The moment Tessa comes into view, my breath catches and my resolve begins to crack. She has her back to me and that's enough to have my eyes fill as my lip quivers.
This is really happening.
She’s pacing. Her hands fidgeting at her sides. Dark marks cover her pale skin.
When she turns her frail body around to retrace her steps, all those paintings I’ve created over the years come to life on the opposite side of the glass. She’s everything I already knew, and I suddenly don't know what to do with myself.
“I can’t do this.” I panic. “I’m sorry.” This is wrong. I’m not strong enough for this. I can’t have her see me like this.
“Find me, Dexter.” Warm hands take hold of my face as blue eyes search mine with a conviction I’m so desperate to have in myself. “Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”
I hold her gaze and the power in them fills me with courage as I start to feel myself come out of an attack that could have got out of hand. Pepper’s eyes are the best form of medication I could ask for.
"What if she hates me, Blue? Blames me?" I whisper, a thick lump heavy in my throat. "What if she’s better off with—"