by Carian Cole
Lukas pulls one of the visitor chairs closer to the bed and falls into it. He turns to our aunt, his eyes swollen and red. “Aria, why don’t you go talk to the guys, give them an update and maybe go home and get some rest? I’m going to stay here with him.”
“Are you sure? Maybe I should stay . . .” Her voice trails off. I can’t listen anymore. I don’t want to hear anything else. I want all words to stop.
My vision blurs and my eyes droop. I blink repeatedly and stare at the ceiling, but all I can see is Katie. This isn’t real. None of this is fucking happening. I let my eyelids fall and allow the drugs to take me under. It’s been a long time since I felt the pull into the numbness that I used to crave so much. I go willingly, as if meeting an old friend.
CHAPTER 3
VANDAL
THERE’S no escape from this nightmare. Sleep brings no relief. I see her in my dreams, smiling at me, reaching for my hand. I can hear her childish, sweet voice, her innocent giggle. Then I wake and reality rushes into my veins, washing her away, taking her from me over and over again.
“Maybe you should stay at my place for a few days?” Lukas suggests, watching me cram my stuff into the plastic bag the nurse gave me for my things. My clothes are covered in blood, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s mine, Katie’s, or Renee’s. Today I leave the hospital, and tomorrow I bury my five-year-old daughter and will never, ever see her or be close to her again. She’s gone, forever, because of me and my fucked up lifestyle. Why did I have to try to do so much in one weekend? Why didn’t I just sleep instead of staying up all night? Why did Deb have to be such an unreasonable bitch and force me into a corner? If she wasn’t constantly trying to make me miserable, this never would have happened. Katie would still be here. All I want to do is find a scalpel in this hospital and hide in the bathroom and cut myself until I’m numb again, letting all feelings and emotions seep out of me into a dark puddle.
“No,” I say.
“You can come stay with us,” Storm offers, putting his arm around his fiancée, Evie. I smirk at my cousin. Like I really want to stay with these two disgustingly happy people who can’t keep their hands off each other and smile fucking non-stop. That scalpel is calling my name.
“We’d love to have you stay with us, Vandal. I’ve got homemade chili cooking in the crockpot. Storm said it’s one of your favorites.” Evie smiles up at me, but shrinks back from my cold stare. I step closer to her and she sinks into Storm’s side a little.
“I hafta bury my fuckin’ kid tomorrow. You think I want to sit around with you two fucks and eat chili?”
I morbidly enjoy watching the smile disappear from her face and the way she looks down at the floor. That’s right, honey, don’t even look at me. I will fucking eat your soul. Storm glares at me, torn between saving his girl from the big bad wolf and letting me expel my rage a little. Someday he’ll learn he can’t love everybody.
Lukas touches my arm. “Vandal, take it easy. We’re all just trying to help.”
I shrug him off. “I don’t want any help. I don’t want anything.”
Except my daughter. And if I can’t have her, I’ll take that scalpel now so I can cut this pain out of my body.
I grab my bag. “Can we go?” Lukas is supposed to drive me home since my new Mustang is now a mangled mess of metal, glass, and death.
“No, we have to wait for the doctor to come back and discharge you, and there’s some other stuff that needs to be taken care of. I told you this already, did you forget?”
I roll my eyes and sit on the bed. I need to get home and get away from everybody. They’re smothering me with all their good intentions and attention, and I have no idea how to accept either from them, thanks to me coming from the fucked up side of this family—meaning the father I haven’t seen since I was five. I only just found out I had a brother and a clan of cousins a little more than five years ago. Needless to say, I am adjusting to the whole family thing a lot slower than they are.
“Get out of my way.” A familiar female voice snarls.
I turn toward the commotion at my door to see Deb pushing her way past Storm into my room. I knew she would show up eventually.
“You,” she says, pointing at me, barely standing up straight. I don’t know if she’s drunk or just mentally distraught. Possibly both. “You killed my daughter,” she chokes out. “You’re a fucking murderer.”
I rise to my feet and step towards the woman who gave birth to the only person I’ve ever loved. “You made me do this, Deb. Your fucking selfish, crazy, control-freak tantrum caused this.” I punch the wall next to her, and my fist goes through drywall. “She’d be alive right now if you had just let her stay for one more night. Really, Deb? You had to fucking threaten me and force me to drive in the middle of the night when I told you I was fucking exhausted?”
“I hate you! You killed my baby!” she shrieks, and starts to smack and kick me.
Storm grabs her and pulls her off me. “Deb, please. This is not the time or place for this.” His voice is low as he holds her back.
“He should be in prison! He’s a murderer!”
“No one’s going to prison, Deb,” Lukas says, stepping between us. “It was an accident. A horrible fucking accident. You should just leave. Nobody needs this. We’re all upset.”
She glares at me over Lukas’s shoulder as Storm tries to drag her out the door. “I’m going to make you suffer for this, Vandal! You fucking baby killer!”
“I’ve been suffering my whole life, you cunt. Don’t ever come near me again. We have nothing more to say to each other.” A security guard enters the room and yanks Deb out as my doctor comes in right behind them. “I know this is a stressful situation, but can you people please remember this is a hospital? There are sick people here,” he scolds, as if we’re all stupid.
I can’t hold back my sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, one just got dragged away.”
“What happened here?” He points to the hole in the wall. “You’re going to have to pay for this damage, Mr. Dawson.”
“Fine. Whatever. Can I just go home now?”
The good doctor eyes my hand. “I’m going to have the nurse come in and get your hand cleaned up first. And might I suggest you talk to the psychologist on staff? I think you are going to need some anger and grief counseling, Mr. Dawson.”
Lukas nods in agreement. “I think that’s a good idea, Van. Someone to talk to . . .”
“Fuck. No. I don’t talk.” What I really need is to go home and talk to my good friend, Jack Daniels, for a few hours.
“Your brother is right,” Doc says to me, and hands Lukas a business card. “This is her information. Maybe when things . . . settle a bit, he can give her a call.”
“He’s still in the room,” I say sarcastically. “And he’s not talking to a fucking shrink.”
I sit impatiently on the bed as the nurse cleans and bandages my bleeding and swollen knuckles. Apparently only one nurse and one doctor are allowed to treat me while I’m here to diminish the chances of hospital staff who could be fans of the band swarming in here. I have a feeling my aunt and uncle somehow paid for that to happen.
“Mr. Dawson, I’m hesitant to give you a prescription for sedatives given your history and your current agitated state, although I do think you need something to help you calm down,” the doctor comments. I didn’t even hear him come back into the room.
“Don’t worry, Doc. I’m not going to take the whole bottle. Been there, done that.”
“Vandal . . . come on, man,” Storm voices from his corner of the room, his fiancée hanging on to his hand as if she’s afraid she might get lost if she lets go.
“What, Storm? You don’t want to talk about all the stuff that me, you, and my little bro here have in common?”
I watch him look uneasily at his fiancée, Evie, and I know that he hasn’t told her about his own little trip to the psych ward years ago. Of course I wasn’t part of the family when that happened, but I know all about it tha
nks to Google. And my younger brother, who I actually kinda like, has deep, telltale scars on both his wrists that even his tattoos can’t hide from my knowing eyes.
Funny how much mutual fucked-upped-ness we all have, how parallel our lives were, even though we didn’t grow up together.
Just when I think I can finally leave, Aria; my cousin Asher; my lawyer, Sam; our band manager, Don; and our publicist, Helen, all parade into the room.
“What the fuck now? I want to get out of here.”
“Vandal, we have to talk about the incident and damage control so you and the band and your family don’t get dragged into all sorts of gossip and bad press,” Helen says, taking the chair next to my bed. “For once, one of your fuck-ups has actually helped save your ass. You never changed your birth certificate back to your biological name of Vandal Valentine. So, legally you are still Alex Dawson.” Well, at least my adoptive parents did something right – giving me a different name. Helen continues, “Therefore, the accident and medical reports have that name because your identification still has it.”
“Vandal, next week I need you to come into my office so we can get all this straightened out with you using your birth name again,” Sam says.
“Okay,” I reply. I completely forgot about changing my name back legally. Once Gram found me and told me what my real name was, I started using it right away and wasn’t worried about filing paperwork. I just wanted a new beginning with the name that was given to me.
“Deb is not doing well emotionally, which is understandable,” Aria says. “We’ve offered her a large sum of money to not speak to the press about Katie’s accident, or to mention your name, or the band’s, and have had her sign nondisclosure agreements and other legal documents that I’m sure you don’t want to be bothered with. The bottom line is, she’ll be quiet.”
“So that bitch is making money off of our daughter’s death? Are you fucking kidding me?”
Aria touches my shoulder. “Vandal, it’s fine. If it keeps her quiet, so be it. We can afford it. Don’t worry about it or waste time thinking about it, please.”
I shake my head in disgust. “All Deb ever cared about was using Katie as a pawn to torture me. She’s a fucking whore.” I have no idea how such a sweet, beautiful little girl came from two messed up people.
“Thankfully, due to the fact that this is a very small town and your family is so well known and liked, we were also able to pay a few people at the scene to keep quiet and had them sign non-disclosures as well. Also, since the band is made up of family members, there is no worry of any of them talking or selling a story.”
“I’d be willing to sell his story for a price,” Asher says, half joking.
“Shouldn’t you be up on the fourth floor right about now?” I shoot back at him.
“Guys, that’s enough,” Aria scolds. “Asher, that’s not even funny, and Vandal, that was uncalled for and cruel.”
My cousin and I glare at each other.
Helen snaps her fingers at us like we’re dogs. “The hospital has been wonderful with keeping your visit here discreet. All staff that handled your case, Katie’s, and Renee’s, have also signed non-disclosure agreements. Renee’s only relative that she had any contact with was her older brother, and he showed no interest in you, or her, for that matter. He almost seemed relieved that she was gone. Apparently she’d been in and out of rehab for years.”
“Excellent choice in women,” Asher comments.
I flip him my middle finger. “At least I’m not jerking off to a corpse every night like you are. Go fuck yourself.”
“You two better bury the hatchet.” Don stands and paces the room. “We’re all tired of it and it’s doing nothing to help the band. This is some serious shit happening. You aren’t playing in your basement anymore.”
Helen continues, “I believe we have covered all of our bases to ensure that no part of this tragedy ends up in the wrong hands. Yesterday we issued a brief press kit stating that there had been a horrible accident, and we ask for sympathy and privacy for everyone involved during this difficult time. I suggest you lie low for a while, Vandal.”
“Thanks for all your help with everything,” I mumble, my head is spinning thinking about how sick it is that I have to be grateful people aren’t talking about my child being killed and some of them even have to be paid off. If anyone tries to exploit what happened to my baby, there’ll be hell to pay.
I don’t say anything as Lukas drives me home. Time feels fucked to me, as if it’s been years since the accident when in fact it was only three days ago.
“I could stay with you for a few days so you’re not alone.”
“I like being alone. I’m used to it.” My voice sounds flat and empty, even to me.
He glances away from the road for a moment to read my face. “You don’t have to be. I know what it feels like, Vandal. My life wasn’t much different than yours. The difference is, that now I’m trying to make it better.”
I stare out the window and into the trees. “I let myself get close to Katie and now she’s gone, Lukas. I think it’s pretty clear I was never meant to have a family.”
“You still have the rest of us. We’re not going anywhere.”
I know Lukas had a fucked up childhood, as I did. Born six years after me, our father abandoned him when he was just a baby with an eighteen-year-old mother, who gave him to her grandparents to raise until they passed, and he ended up as a teenager in the foster system. When we met for the first time five years ago, he was so excited to have a brother and a bunch of cousins that neither one of us had ever met. Of course, I was a huge disappointment as a brother, being the anti-social asshole that I am. And how could I compare to our perfect Valentine cousins and their equally perfect parents?
The kid didn’t give up though. He was determined to be a part of my life, and for us to walk into the welcoming fold of our new family. Slowly, slowly, I’ve tried to let myself accept these people as family, and they’re actually pretty cool. I still struggle with it though.
Lukas pulls into the long driveway of my house and puts the car in park.
“Should I come inside with you?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No. I need to do this alone.” I stare out the windshield at the house, which looks lonelier than ever. “Lukas, thanks for being there the past few days. You know I’m not good at this shit and my head is really fucked right now, but I do appreciate you being around.”
“Any time. If you need anything, just call, okay? I don’t care what it is, day or night . . . anything.”
I reach into the back seat and grab my bag. “Thanks, man.”
He coughs and hesitates for a second. “Tomorrow . . . I can come and get you; we can go together.”
My chest tightens up at the thought of tomorrow. I want to somehow stall time and put off tomorrow for a few years. Fuck, put it off forever. I’m not ready to bury my baby. I will never be ready to say goodbye to my Katie.
A lump forms in my throat and my eyes burn as the harsh reality that I will never see my daughter past the age of five crashes into me. I press my fingers against my forehead, wishing I could stop the never-ending pain that keeps getting worse and worse. “Uh, yeah. I think that might be good. I don’t think I can . . .” I swallow hard. I can’t fucking deal with any of this.
“Vandal, say no more. I’ll be here in the morning. I’ll have Ivy meet me there. Are you gonna be okay?”
Letting my head fall back onto the seat rest, I shake it back and forth. “Fuck no. I’m never gonna be okay again, Lukas.”
“We all loved her. She was a great little kid. But you gotta try to just hang on, ya know? I know all this shit is tearing you apart, but don’t let it drag you under.”
“Yeah,” I say absently. “Be here tomorrow.”
I get out of the car before I lose my shit in front of him. No fucking way am I going to break down in front of anyone.
Walking into my house, a burning pain grows in my chest and I
can’t move past the front foyer. Instead I stand there with my eyes closed, leaning against the door, because I don’t think I can take seeing her toys laying where she left them, or her little cartoon cup. I don’t want to see her things without her.
The house feels eerie. Too quiet. There’s no life here anymore. Just like that, in a moment, everything is gone. I never had a family, I never even wanted a family, and then suddenly I had an unplanned child with some crazy bitch that I fucked after a concert and kept around for a little while to party with. Next thing I know, I’m fighting the world just to see my own kid. I lost the first three years of her life because I was too fucked up to be a parent, and now I’ve lost the rest of her life because her mother just wanted to be a bitch. Katie was an angel and deserved so much better than the two of us as parents. I should have fought harder to keep her safe, and not let my fears of Deb dragging me back to court cloud my judgement. If I had just told Deb no, Katie would be here now. Safe. Alive.
I slowly walk down the dark hallway and stop at Katie’s doorway. Her pink nightlight is on, illuminating the room. I don’t want to go in, but I can’t stop myself. The mix of her presence and her void is completely overwhelming, and I fall to my knees in the middle of the room. The pain in my chest is like nothing I’ve ever felt before, as if my heart is being ripped from my body and sliced into tiny pieces. I want her back so bad. I want to just feel her tiny hand in mine and tuck her into bed.
Lifting my head, my eyes fall on Teddy, Katie’s coveted bear that she left here to “take care of me.” I crawl to the small bed and lay my head next to the little bear that, just a few days ago, we tucked into her blankets together until she’d be back. Pressing my face against the little bear, I can’t hold back my tears anymore.
CHAPTER 4