by Drew Sera
I walked and pressed onward until I needed to stop. This fucking bullet to the chest thing and collapsed lung has really slowed me down. I can’t even walk a few city blocks without having to stop and fucking rest. I’ll get back to normal soon I hope. I fucking better.
I stood in the cold, damp air and leaned on the waist high stone wall facing the fountains of Bellagio. We brought Sydney here for dinner several times and this is where she saw that crazy ass Christmas tree and village she fell in love with. We have the picture of the three of us at home, but I was able to pull it up on my phone and stared at it for a few minutes before standing to stretch my back. I leaned on the small retaining wall, this time facing the busy street and sidewalk. From my wallet, I pulled the small picture of her and I on Colin’s patio. This photo was so tattered and curved in the shape of the palm of my hand. I clutched it while she was gone. I flipped it over and in my terrible, drunk handwriting the night I made so many mistakes, it read, “the hole was just starting to heal”.
She made me feel good inside. I wanted to hold her now, but didn’t want all of the interrogations. I couldn’t go home right now. My head wasn’t clear and I wouldn’t be good for Sydney, or Colin, for that matter.
I held her picture in my palm and moved my feet forward. I walked around a bit more and realized the rain was getting heavier and the hotel lights were brighter now with the darkening sky. I ended up wandering to the casino where my high-rise condo was for shelter from the rain and cold. The last night I was here, was that night I left Colin to seek out physical pain over the loss of Sydney from a Pro Dom. I would never live that down. Dwelling on my regrets that night, I rode the elevator up to my floor and moved slowly down the hall to the shell of a place I used to live.
Why the fuck was I here?
I opened the door, flipped the lights on and stood still. I looked around, though I don’t know what I was expecting to find. Suddenly, this place felt very unwelcome to me. I moved forward, almost as if I was learning to walk again. My chest was killing me and I made it to my bathroom where I knew I had ibuprofen. It would help for a while.
I went back out to the great room and took my wet sport coat off along with my button shirt. I pulled my card out from Sydney and Colin, turned the heat up and turned the fireplace on. I was cold. Freezing to be exact. My clothes felt damp and wetter than I realized and I needed out of them. I had no more energy to go change out if the rest of my wet clothes and needed to sit down for a minute.
With my card, picture of Sydney, and fucking papers about traumatic crimes, I toed off my shoes and made my way to the fireplace. I moved a chair to face it and propped my feet up on the stone bench in front of the fireplace, hoping it would help to warm me up.
After I read my card over and over I pulled my phone out. Fuck. Texts and missed calls, all from people who had me on their shit list.
BE: You do realize that if I go back without you that you’ll have Matt and Colin on you. Tell me where you are. I will come to you and we can drive or walk or whatever. You don’t need to be alone.
BE: Remember, I was out in the woods that night and I saw the pictures. You don’t have to talk or say anything, but you need company. Where are you?
BE: What’s it going to be? Drive or walk for a while?
BE: Answer me Anthony.
MR: Will and Blake are here. Where are you?
CE: Call me.
MR: Colin said he didn’t think you took your medicine this morning and he’s worried. Can you program into your head to take the medication? Are you coughing yet?
MR: You’ve only been out of the hospital a few days. You shouldn’t be out alone. You’re not strong enough. I’ll come get you, just tell me where you are.
CE: Anth, please come home. Sydney and I are both worried. Blake told Matt and I about the photos. I know that’s what sent you running and feeling like you need space. I know you don’t want to talk about it and I promise you I won’t ask or say anything about them. We just need you here. Matt said you’re not well enough to be out on your own right now. I’m worried and I’m trying to prevent Sydney from worrying to the point of getting sick.
MR: Blake told us about the police pictures. I’m sorry I wasn’t sensitive to what you might be dealing with today. I’m worried about you being out on your own right now. I can come to you, tell me where you are.
BE: Matt and Colin know about the police pictures. I didn’t tell them in front of Sydney.
I stared at the texts and listened to the messages. The one that made my stomach and chest hurt the most was the one from Sydney.
SB: I love you and wish you were here. Please come home by bedtime. I can’t sleep without you.
Fuck, what was I doing? I was dropping my end of the stick. Yet I couldn’t move. Eventually, I had to move because my body was aching too much in the chair. I stood, stretched and paced around the room for a while. When the pain became too much again, I sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall. It eased some of my cramping in my lower back and abdomen. I set my phone on the floor and continued to listen to it alerting me of incoming texts or phone calls. I even watched it light up. It wasn’t fair for them to be worried and I needed to find my fucking balls. I sent a text to all of them but a separate one to Sydney.
AG: I’m sorry. I just need time to clear my head before I come home. I’m safe. No need to worry.
AG: Sunshine, I love you.
Of course, by me sending the text to the guys, it fueled a flurry of responses.
BE: Anthony, I will come get you. If you don’t feel like you’re ready to go home, we can drive around for a while or go get some dinner. You need to eat.
CE: Tell me where you’re at.
MR: Where are you?
CE: Urban Towers?
MR: What are you running from, Anth? We’re your family and will support you and help you through this, but you need to come home.
I left the phone on the floor and rubbed my hand over my chest trying to warm myself. I was frustrated that I was so fucking cold, and aggressively rubbed on my chest. I was quickly reminded of my bandage, and swore out loud as I accidentally pulled it. I carefully lifted my t-shirt and gently tapped the bandage down in place. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me and why I can’t warm the fuck up. I turned the heat up when I arrived and had been sitting by this fireplace for hours. I think I was colder now than when I walked in. Was I getting a cold or did I have a fever? The fact that I hadn’t taken my medicine started going off in my head, much like Matt’s reminder. I knew I had a “told you so” coming in my near future.
From my floor, I stared at the spot near the couch where I was cuffed to the leg of it. I narrowed my eyes as I noticed that the couch had been moved quite a bit. How the fuck didn’t I feel him cuffing me to the damn couch? Concussion. Suddenly I felt very sick to my stomach but made it to my bathroom just in time.
“Fuck.”
I felt terrible. I made my way to the kitchen and found some Coke. I slowly sipped on it for a few minutes and eyed my trashcan. I could go look in it just to see if what I thought I saw Victor throw in there was actually there, or just leave that stone unturned.
That stone was staying firmly planted. In fact, I was going to make it so I couldn’t look. Without looking inside, I carried the bag to the end of the hall to the trash chute. There. Out of sight, out of mind.
I still felt off though. I sat back down on the floor and picked up my phone. I scrolled through it at all of my pictures with Sydney and Colin. I felt tired and sick to my stomach again as I glanced around the great room. This place felt awkward to me. Almost like I was in someone else’s home. It felt cold to me. Maybe it’s always been that way and it never bothered me before. I had a wonderful home now. Full of people and support and love I never knew I’d have. I just wasn’t in the right mindset to return to it.
Chapter 21
Tuesday, February 4th
Colin
I rode the elevator up to the 50t
h floor with Matt in silence. I wasn’t allowing Matt to go on his own because I worried he would inadvertently set Anthony off. After Blake told Matt and I about the photos at the police station, Matt admitted to being an ass with some texts, which pissed me off. Anthony doesn’t need anyone pushing at him right now. He’s stressed and trying to recover.
Matt expressed his concerns not only over Anthony physically, but emotionally on our drive over and he reiterated them in the elevator.
“He’s a mess, Col.”
I didn’t respond to Matt’s comment. I knew Anthony needed help and I was determined to help him.
It was quiet for the rest of our ride to the 50th floor as my thoughts were home with Sydney. She stayed with Gina and Blake and I knew she was safe, so I wasn’t worried about that, but I can’t leave her for very long right now. Things are too raw. I need to settle Anthony down so he would come home and I wasn’t confident that Matt would have been able to do that alone.
“Please, Matt. Don’t push him.”
“I won’t. His body isn’t strong enough to be out walking around. I hope he wasn’t walking in the rain. I’m worried about him too and will help get him home.”
Matt and Anthony aren’t seeing eye to eye right now. Actually, Anthony isn’t seeing eye to eye really with anyone right now, but he trusts me the most.
I pressed my key card on the reader next to Anthony’s door and it clicked open. I went in first and called his name. What I noticed quickly was how hot the place was. I could see the fireplace was going so I knew he was here. Matt commented on how hot the place felt and he walked over to the thermostat. I watched him, waiting for his comment that I knew was coming.
“How the hell do you operate this thing?”
I could care less about the thermostat at the moment and walked to the top step before a few steps dropped into the large expanse of Anthony’s sanctuary. When I reached the top step, my eyes began to wander. Movement caught my eye near the balcony door. Anthony was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. His legs were bent at the knees and his forearms were resting on his kneecaps and he was looking at me. Even though I was a distance away, I could tell he wasn’t all right.
I made my way over to him and Matt was right behind me. Anthony had kept his eyes on me and I could see the troubles in them as I neared. There’s so much going on and it didn’t do him any good at all to see graphic images of Paul lying on top of his body. From what Blake and Will described, the pictures were very graphic in nature. I’m sure it was an unfathomable event and there’s no way I could say, “I understand how you’re feeling”, to Anthony. Part of me thought about asking Blake to see if he could arrange for me to meet with the detectives so I could see the pictures. At least then I would visually know what Anthony was dealing with. Will said they were so graphic that he couldn’t look at them again when he went in with Blake. He said he kept his focus on Blake while the photographs were shown to him.
“Anth, it’s really warm in here, man.” Matt calmly commented but Anthony didn’t respond. “Your hair is wet.” Matt’s tone was edging towards reprimanding, but he caught himself. “Are you cold, Anth?”
Anthony looked at Matt and slowly nodded. I began to take a closer look at him and I’m sure Matt was too. His white undershirt was wet around the neck and chest and when he set a picture of Sydney down next to the card she and I gave him, I saw that his hands were shaking. He needed to be home.
I crouched down when Matt did and noticed Anthony’s phone was playing something on the screen. It was a slideshow of all of his pictures of us. Matt reached out and attempted to feel Anthony’s head, but Anthony quickly put his arm up blocking Matt from touching him. It started to concern me some that Anthony wasn’t saying anything.
Matt and I looked at one another and I thought both of us were thinking along the same lines; Anthony clearly was struggling and we needed to step up and help him. Anthony was nearing the end of his emotional rope and he honestly just didn’t know how to deal with the shit going on. Much to my surprise, Matt didn’t push him and instead took a compassionate stance.
“Anth, it’ll settle down.” Matt gave Anthony’s sock clad feet a few pats before he turned to look at me. “Col, I’m going to go find him some dry clothes.”
Matt stood and went toward Anthony’s room and I sat down and leaned against the wall next to him. I sat close enough to where he’d feel my shoulder and arm. Spread out on the floor were the same pieces of paper Blake showed me that he also got at the police station. When it was just the two of us, he spoke quietly.
“I’m sorry, Col. I just needed some time. I didn’t want to bring it home with me.”
“We will get through this.”
He and I sat quietly for a few more minutes. He’s not a talker and I knew a lot of what was going on in his head was stuff he wanted to keep there and never voice. Eventually, he’s going to have to though. I knew that sometimes the best support that I could ever give to him is just to sit with him.
“Where’s Sydney?”
“Home with Blake and Gina.”
“You shouldn’t have left her.”
I let out a heavy sigh and turned my head to look at him.
“At some point, you’re going to realize that you matter, too.”
After a few more minutes of quietness, Matt appeared with some clothes and set them on the couch. He held out his hand towards Anthony offering to help him off the ground.
“Come on, Anth. I tossed them in your dryer for a few minutes. They’re warm for you.”
It was a great idea because Anthony was shivering, damp and needed warmth. I helped him stand and was surprised at how weak he was and off balance. Matt took hold of Anthony’s bicep on the opposite side and helped to steady him. He managed to change his jeans without issue but when he pulled his tee shirt off, Matt and I noticed that the bandage on his chest was askew and bloody.
“Anth, what happened?” Matt stood in front of him and held his palms against Anthony’s shoulders while he visually examined the condition of Anthony’s chest and bandage more closely.
Anthony looked down at his chest and reached up to press the bandage against his skin. He held his hand over his wound and said that he had rubbed on his chest in effort to warm up and accidentally hit the bandage. I couldn’t help but notice that his abdomen was moving. It was intensely shaking. He was still shaking, but his abdomen was doing its own shaking. Anthony placed his hand over his abdomen as I opened my mouth to start to say something, but before I could, Matt spoke.
“It’s alright, Anth. Your body is in shock. You’re cold from the inside out.” Matt took his eyes off Anthony and looked over at me as if that would make me feel any less concerned over Anthony. “Where do you keep bandages? I’ll go get them and we can change it.”
“I…I don’t have any here.”
I know Anthony expected Matt to come down on him, but Matt’s approach was really calm. I think Matt’s trauma counselor training started kicking in because he worked more toward calming Anthony than asking him too many questions.
“It’ll be okay until we get home. I’ll clean it and we’ll re-bandage it. Try to relax, Anth.”
Anthony slowly pulled on a t-shirt and then a light weighted flannel button shirt. He sat down by the fireplace and changed socks and then put his shoes back on. Matt and I watched him struggle a little with his shoes, but as Matt started to go over to help him, I grabbed his arm. He knew what I meant by it. Anthony doesn’t like to be under the microscope and hates feeling needy or like he can’t do something. Matt’s got to let Anthony struggle a bit through the stuff he can handle, even though it may take him a little longer. I’ll wait all night for him to do up his shoes, but I will grab his arm in a second if he starts to stumble.
Anthony stood slowly and began walking over to where he had been sitting against the wall. He crouched down to gather his card, picture, phone and papers from the floor and when he stood he seemed to be dizzy and leaned his
weight against the wall with his eyes closed. I knew this was rough on him and with Matt on one side of him and me on the other, he brought one hand up to his stomach and rubbed his eyes with the back of his other hand. The hand on his stomach also held his papers from the police station and the hand that rubbed his eyes held our card and Sydney’s picture.
He was a mess and I hated seeing him like this. Anthony has been brought to his knees in just a few weeks and it was hard seeing him like this. I was trying not to push him but I needed him to start communicating. I said his name hoping it would prompt something from him.
“Anth.”
He nodded his head and finally looked at me.
“I’m ready.”
Matt took care of adjusting the lights, thermostat and turning off the fireplace from Anthony’s phone and then handed it back to him. I grabbed a jacket for him from his coat closet and helped him into it while he held his hand over the wound on his chest.
As we waited for the elevator, Anthony had his phone out and with shaky fingers he locked his place back up. The three of us were quiet in the elevator but Matt and I both had our eyes on Anthony and his head was hung, looking at the floor of the elevator. By the time we hit the 32nd floor, Anthony spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
I jostled him slightly and put my arm around his shoulders. He needed it badly and while I know Matt would have loved to dish it out too, he didn’t attempt it.
“I am too, Anth. I should have gone with you to the police station.”
He didn’t look up, but shook his head from side to side.
“No. Then you would have seen the pictures. I don’t want either of you seeing that fucking shit.” My chest squeezed because I knew the stuff from this morning was weighing on him heavily. I glanced at Matt and I knew he was feeling the same as I was. In typical Anthony fashion though, he tried to lighten the mood in the elevator. “Besides, my hair was all fucked up in the pictures.”