“Shane!”
“I couldn’t see you like that, babe. You were scaring me.”
We round the corner and he leads me through a door on the opposite side of the hall. When I walk in I see that it’s a private room with a view of the courtyard fountain and I can’t help but wonder how Matty is going to afford this since I know for a fact he doesn’t have insurance. I’m not even sure that my crappy plan will cover my ‘time out’ in the hall but none of that is really important right now - the only thing that matters is if he’s okay.
My eyes travel to the small bed in the center of the room and to the slender body that’s presently huddled beneath the sheets. I run to his side, pushing past the uniformed officer that’s taking up space at his bedside. The officer is wearing a black uniform with red piping at the edges and he has a silver badge pinned to his chest. When I back over my shoulder I notice that there is a second officer in plain-clothes across the room but I barely spare him a glance.
“I’m so sorry, Matty,” I say in a rush of breath. “This is all my fault.” I hiccup out the last words as fat tears fall down my cheeks and Shane comes up behind me to place a hand on my shoulder. “I should’ve been there. If I hadn’t left to meet with Donovan…” I trail off and Matty’s eyes flutter open.
“Oh honey, if you hadn’t left to meet Donovan then two of us would be lying here right now.” He gives me a weak smile at the same time Shane’s hand tightens on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you could have done so stop blaming yourself.”
As he speaks I take in his appearance. His lips are swollen and the left side of his jaw looks puffy. He has two black eyes and deep, purple bruises on his face and arms but I can’t see the rest of him because his body is hidden under the blankets. He’s hooked up to intravenous and a heart rate monitor and he looks much paler than normal. I lean into him and wrap my arms around his neck as gingerly as I can.
“What happened?” I whisper and he shakes his head.
“I’ve already been over it once and I don’t think I can relive it again right now,” he whispers as his eyes flick over to the policemen. The police officer to my right answers for him.
“According to Mr. Dawson he was watching television alone in the apartment when someone kicked in the door and attacked him. Is that correct?”
“I’ve already told this to your friend here,” Matty says in a tired voice, gesturing to the plain-clothes officer across the room and I really look at the man then. He’s wearing a short-sleeved dress shirt and a too-short tie that comes nowhere close to reaching his pants over his round belly. His silver badge is clipped over his belt and I belatedly notice that he has a huge mustard stain on his dress-shirt. The radio at his hip buzzes loudly and he quickly shuts it off before he speaks.
“If you wouldn’t mind telling Officer Clark again,” he says sounding almost bored and it takes everything in me not to lunge across the room and kick him in the nuts. Matty sighs and his face scrunches up like he’s in pain but he complies.
“There were two of them but I didn’t see any faces. The one that kicked me in the ribs was short and bulky and wore a dark hoodie. The other one that punched me in the face smelled like smoke. They beat the shit out of me and stabbed me in the leg. I don’t know what else I can tell you.”
I let out a huge gasp at Matty’s description and Shane responds by placing a steadying hand on my arm.
“Do you have an alarm system?” The uniformed officer turns to address me and I shake my head.
“Security bars on the windows?” he tries and I shake my head again. “A woman like you living alone should probably invest in some,” he says as he gives me a chiding look.
“What do you mean ‘a woman like me’?” I challenge and his lips pinch together in disapproval.
“What I mean to say is that a young woman who lives in less-than-desirable part of town should take precautions with her safety.”
I’m about to tell him exactly where he can stuff his advice when the doctor strolls into the room. She’s an older woman in green scrubs and her salt-and-pepper hair is tied back into a loose ponytail.
“Mr. Dawson,” she says warmly. “How are you feeling since I last saw you?”
“Like I got run over by a truck,” Matty answers flashing a smile that’s quickly followed by a grimace.
“Well I would say that you are a lucky man to even be able to answer that question right now. The puncture in your upper thigh was very close to the femoral artery and you would’ve lost a lot more blood had it been hit,” she recites, flipping through his chart. “In addition you have a broken rib and a minor jaw fracture but it will heal on its own and won’t need surgery. The bruising on your torso and face is also fairly significant and you will feel the aftereffects of soreness and stiffness for some time. I’m fairly confident that I will be able to discharge you in the morning but until that time it is important that you rest as much as possible. And on that note I’m going to ask the officers to leave.” When the doctor finishes with her assessment her eyes land on the police officers and her mouth tightens in disapproval.
“But we’re not done talking to Mr. Dawson,” the plain-clothed one protests.
“I think you are,” the doctor answers, giving him a hard stare and the younger uniformed officer intervenes.
“We will let you get some rest but if you remember anything about the burglars, anything at all that you think could help us, please give us a call,” he addresses Matty before Shane ushers them both out the door.
The doctor gives Matty a quick examination, checking out his jaw first and then moving to the wound on his leg. When she removes the gauze she reveals an angry red hole about the size of a penny and I actually scream when I see it.
“Calm down, Carm, it’s not like this is the first beating I’ve ever taken,” he says and I squeeze his hand in response.
“Don’t say things like that, please don’t,” I whimper, unsure of how much more of his false bravado I can take.
The doctor tells him that she will be back in the morning to check on him before taking her leave. As soon as she’s out of sight Shane sits down on the edge of the bed and looks at Matty.
“You told the police you didn’t see anything. Is that true?” Shane asks.
“I didn’t get a good look at either of them but I heard what they had to say,” Matty pauses before continuing and I can tell that whatever he is going to say is bad - really bad. “It was your mom, Carm. Some deadbeat drug dealers are looking for money from her and they thought you might have some to give.”
“How did they know where I live?” I ask, confused.
“That’d be your mom too,” he confesses. “Shit, honey, she even drew them a map. And I thought my parents were bad.”
“My own mother sent them to my house?” I say in disbelief. I mean, I’ve known for a while that she dabbles in drugs and it’s a battle I gave up on a long time ago, and I know that I’m not her favorite person in the world but I thought being her daughter still meant something. I guess I was wrong about that.
“I’m sorry this happened to you, Matt. I will do whatever I can to find the attackers and make this right, “Shane vows but Matt shakes his head.
“Don’t bother. The police have already taken my statement and I’m sure they think it was a burglary gone wrong. It was just a couple of tweakers and finding them will make no difference in the grand scheme of things since Carm’s mom has probably pissed off twenty more just like them. That’s why I didn’t say anything to the police - it’ll only dredge up the past and make things harder for our girl here,” he explains and it’s my turn to argue.
“I want you to tell the police!” I yell back.
“Why? What will it achieve? They will go straight to your mom’s house to question her and she will never leave you alone after that. She’s already pointed one drug dealer in your direction and sending the police to her door is hardly going to stop her from doing it again - in fact it will probably paint a b
ig target right on your back.”
“He’s right, Carmelina,” Shane says quietly.
“He’s not right! She’s my mother so she’s my mess to clean up. Don’t you go and try protecting me any more than you already have,” I say to Matty before turning to Shane. “That goes for both of you. These people hurt Matty and they should answer for that in the eyes of the law.”
“I’m exhausted, honey. Let’s talk more tomorrow,” Matty says as his eyes flutter closed and he’s got me because he knows I can’t argue with him needing his rest.
“Fine, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to stay right here all night,” I say, dragging a chair over from the wall to his beside.
“You need sleep, babe,” Shane protests but I hold up my hand to silence him.
“You are not changing my mind on this so let it go,” I say firmly and he sighs and scrubs his hands up and down his face. “Go home and get some rest, Shane,” I add and he surprises me when he doesn’t argue. He just steps forward and kisses the top of my head before disappearing into the hall. Matty is muttering about how stubborn I am but I ignore him as I pull out a pillow and sheet from the side cupboard. As I’m setting myself up for the night a nurse comes in to change the bag on his intravenous drip.
“It’s midnight and visiting hours don’t start until eight in the morning. Time to go home.”
“I’m staying,” I say stubbornly and the nurse sighs.
“Are you family?”
“Absolutely,” I respond and she looks between Matty and I as if she’s studying us for similarities and coming up with none. “He’s my brother in every sense of the word,” I add seriously as my eyes fill up with tears. It’s enough to make her back down and she nods quickly before rushing out of the room.
***
I don’t know how much time passes until Matty finally falls back asleep but I don’t let go of his hand until he does. It has been awhile since the nurse on duty has stuck her head in so the room is deadly quiet except for the constant beep of the heart rate monitor. The door opens and I hear the scrape of feet on the linoleum floor and when I turn I’m surprised to see Shane’s dad hovering over me. He’s wearing scrubs and he looks as tired and weary as I feel.
“Hi,” I say weakly.
“Hi,” he replies adding, “I’m sorry about your friend.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “How did you know I was here?”
“Well, darlin’, since my eldest son has taken up an all-night vigil in the hall I went ahead and guessed,” he teases.
I give him a half-smile before turning back to the bed. “I did this,” I sigh while my eyes scan Matty’s bruised face.
“No, darlin’, you didn’t.” Mike pulls a swivel chair over from against the wall and takes a seat beside me. “I do have some idea of how you’re feeling though. Shane told you about Connor?” he asks and I nod.
“I blamed myself for so long - I guess in some ways I always will. I should’ve gotten him help, I should’ve read the signs, I should’ve known my own son,” he says, keeping his eyes on Matty.
“So how do you deal with it?” I ask, hoping that I’m not crossing a line by doing so.
“The only way I can. By reminding myself that as much as we’re responsible for the ones we love ultimately we can’t control what others choose to do; we can only try to handle what comes at us in the best way we know how,” he explains, running a hand through his thick silver hair before continuing. “It’s like the mother’s I see coming through the NICU every day who have to watch their new babies grow through glass and who in many cases are unable to hold them,” he explains. “So many of those mother’s beat themselves up; if they only took more vitamins, got more rest, ate more vegetables, didn’t go for that last run, didn’t lift that heavy box, it never would have happened. But the harsh truth is that bad things happen to perfectly good people all the time with no rhyme or reason.”
My eyes well up with tears as he speaks and I have to look away. “What you are describing is a totally different situation. In Matty’s case I am directly responsible for what happened to him. It was my apartment…my deadbeat mother…” I trail off.
“I hope Shane hasn’t taken liberties but he did fill us in on the situation with your mom and you’re a perfect example of bad things happening to good people. I know my son struggles with understanding your relationship with her because he wants to protect you but you love your mom and that’s okay,” he says kindly, patting my hand. “She’s your kin and so you should but there is no good reason that you had to grow up the way you did when so many others had it easy,” he responds. “The rear view mirror can be an ugly thing. When we see what is behind us more clearly we often wish we could go back but we can’t. What happened to your friend is awful but it happened. You drowning in guilt will do nothing to change that so go home darlin’ and get some rest. Doctor’s orders,” he adds.
“You’re not my doctor,” I laugh softly as I wipe away my tears. He kisses my temple before getting to his feet.
“Okay then, future father-in-law’s orders,” he chuckles and my jaw must drop in surprise because he adds, “go on now, don’t look so surprised. We Mitchell men know a good thing when we see it and once we have it in our hands come hell or high water we won’t let it go.” He winks and leaves me with that last thought before disappearing out the door.
I rummage through my purse for my phone to check the time. It’s just after three in the morning and the thought of Shane sitting out in the hall for the rest of the night does nothing to ease my mind so I decide that Mike is right. I bend over to kiss Matty and whisper in his ear that I’ll be back in the morning.
***
I find Shane out in the hall sitting on the floor with his back to the wall. For a moment I consider not approaching as it looks like he’s asleep but when the soles of my shoes squeak against the linoleum floor his head snaps up and his eyes lock on mine.
As I take in his tired, worn expression the weight of the past few hours finally comes crashing down on me and I burst into tears. He slowly gets to his feet and comes over to wrap his arms around me. I’m sobbing into his shirt when I feel him bend down and sweep me up into his arms. I bury my face into the crook of his arm as he carries me down the hall and out into the parking lot. He doesn’t speak as he eases me into the truck and belts me in.
I stare out the window as he fires up the engine and pulls out of the hospital lot and I’m so lost in thought that I don’t notice we’ve arrived at his place until we pull into his underground parking. He turns off the engine and comes around to help me out of the truck, this time setting me down on my feet and weaving his fingers through mine before leading me to the elevator. As we ride up I catch a glimpse of my disheveled hair and tear stained face in the mirror which confirms for me that I look just as bad as I feel.
He doesn’t speak until we are inside the apartment and when he does it’s only to say that he’s going to run a shower for me. As tired as I am a shower does sound good so I lamely follow him and I don’t protest when he undresses me and guides me under the hot spray. He sheds his own clothes and steps in behind me and starts running his hands through my hair slowly and massaging my scalp. His touch is so tender and careful and the way he holds me is so unlike anytime he’s handled me before. I can feel his concern and his love in each gentle stroke of his fingertips against my skin. Once my hair is washed he leans spins me around and plants a soft, sweet kiss on my lips before turning off the shower.
When I step out I see that he’s left me one of his t-shirts and a pair of soccer shorts to wear. I give him what I imagine must be a weary smile as I slip the cotton over my head. The shorts are huge and I have to fold them at the waist twice just to keep them from falling down so eventually I give up and slide them off.
“Thank you, Shane,” I say softly and the meaning in my words is unmistakable. It is a thank you for all the things that he has done for me and all of the ways in which he has taken care of me
not just over the past eight hours but over the past eight weeks.
He gives me a knowing smile and exits the bathroom and I use the time alone to brush my teeth and comb through my hair. I pause to stare at myself in the mirror only to see that my complexion is pale and purple bags are forming under my eyes. As I look at the girl reflected back I stop to think about what I would have done tonight if Shane hadn’t been there. How would I have handled finding my best friend bruised and bloodied on my bedroom floor? I lift the oversized shirt to my nose and inhale the familiar scent of him. It holds a trace of the heady combination of grass, soap and man that’s undoubtedly Shane and when it hits me I realize how much I love being surrounded by him - his place, his clothes, and his strong unyielding arms - but more alarming to me is the realization of how much I need it.
I drop the shirt and head back into the bedroom to where he’s waiting for me in bed. I climb in beside him and he flips off the light before pulling me against his chest and surrounding me in his warmth. He places another soft kiss to the back of my head before whispering in my ear.
“Sleep, beautiful girl. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
His sweet words almost break me and I have to bite down on my bottom lip to keep from crying. I wonder how it is that he always knows exactly what to say. I nod my head and burrow under the covers, whispering a soft “I love you” to him before sleep takes hold.
Chapter 22
It is the delicious aroma of freshly-brewed coffee that raises me from the dead and when I crack open my eyes I’m quickly reminded that I’m in Shane’s bed. I roll over and the first thing that catches my eye is my one and only suitcase and my gym bag both sitting in the corner of the room. The sight makes me sit up quickly and I look around for Shane but he’s nowhere to be found. I glance at the clock and I am surprised to see that it’s after ten, so I throw my feet over the side and pad into the attached bathroom where I get another surprise; my blow dryer, straightener and all of my toiletries and makeup are strewn across the counter. I storm back out of the walk-through closet and I have to choke down a scream when I see my dry-cleaned dresses and my two good suits hanging on one of the long bars.
On His Turf Page 20