More Than Friends

by Tabetha Thompson

  “Nope,” he growls.

  “Oh.” I’m disappointed.

  “There wasn’t a card?” he asks tensely.

  “Yeah, it’s on the table behind you.” Skye turns around and grabs the card. A quick glance at it and he says, “I’ll be right back.” Before I can ask where he’s going, he’s out the door.

  A few minutes later, he walks back into the room. I can tell by his worried expression and posture that something is wrong. He gives me a sad look and says, “Chloe, I need to talk to you about something, but first, Sally is about to come in and get these flowers and take them away.”

  At the mention of her name, Sally enters the room wearing latex gloves with a clear plastic bag in hand. She places the flowers and vase in the bag, exiting the room as quickly, and quietly as she entered.

  I raise my eyebrows and look at Skye. “Explain, please,” I demand.

  He resumes his place on the bed by my side. “The day you woke up - maybe a day or two before, I’m not completely sure - Sara started finding roses on your door, one a day to be exact. Every time she removed one, another was put in its place the next day. We don’t know where they’re coming from, but we have an idea. The past couple of days, I’ve been checking on your apartment. Every time I go, it’s been the same thing, a rose taped or tacked to your door. Last night when I left, I went to your apartment, and the door was covered in them. I counted one for every day that you were in the hospital. I removed them and went home.”

  He takes a deep breath and continues, “Last night after we talked, I went to check on things again, and your door was covered again. Detective Sanders, the detective that’s in charge of your case, was already there with Brady and they were in your apartment. From the hallway, I could see every surface in your apartment was covered, including the floor, and I was told rose petals were all over your bed.”

  He stares at me to see how I’m reacting to these new developments. I surprise myself by keeping my face impassive, but on the inside, I’m freaking the hell out. I don’t know what to say. I’m so beyond skeeved out, but crying is not an option for me anymore. I know exactly who’s doing this, and I don’t know why I didn’t realize it the moment I read the card. “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” is Todd’s favorite Poison song. I’m scared shitless.

  I think now is the time to give what information I can to the detective. “Skye, I need you to call the detective, tell him to come to the hospital.” Skye nods his head, and pulls out his phone.

  When he gets off the phone, he wraps his arms around me and holds me tight. “He won’t get to you again, Chloe. I won’t let him.” I just nod. I’ve got nothing left to say. I believe Skye. I know he would protect me any way he could.

  I turn my head toward him. I desperately need to feel his lips against mine, wanting his kiss to be more than a kiss. I need this contact to tell him how I feel about him, since words can never be enough. I lean forward, and the moment our lips meet, every worry or fear that I have, big or small, slips away. It’s just us in our own little bubble. I pour every ounce of emotion I can into that kiss. Suddenly, the monitors at my bedside start going nuts. The shrill beeping is erratic and rapid.

  Startled, I pull back at the same time Sally comes running into my room, looking bewildered. When she sees Skye and me, she releases a loud sigh of relief and looks at me with raised eyebrows. I realize that the noise was my heart monitor and I’m mortified. I look at Skye and he’s wearing the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen.

  Sally smiles. “You two need to behave yourselves. You may not have any sexual restrictions due to your injuries, but you are in the hospital you know.” The ornery woman winks at us and walks out.

  “Good to know,” Skye says with a smirk.

  “Good to know what?” I asked, confused.

  “Good to know that I have the same effect on you as you do me,” he leans in to my ear and says with a growl that rattles me to my toes. “Also, that you have no ‘sexual restrictions’,” he says while air quoting.

  “I think I’m going to die now.” Pulling the thin hospital sheet over my head, I sink into the bed.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Skye snatches the sheet from my grip. He slides into the bed and lies next to me. Even with all the clothing that separates us, I can still feel the heat radiating off of him.

  “Chloe, I need to tell you something,” he says sheepishly. We’re lying side by side, facing each other under the sheet. The thin white tent gives us a false sense of privacy.

  Not knowing what Skye is about to say is scaring me. “Do you remember listening to Sara and me the morning of your attack?” I shake my head. “What about the first time we ever laid eyes on each other?” he asks me. The sheepish look he has at that moment is so cute. I wish I could take a picture of it.

  “I think it was at the diner, right?” He smiles a triumphant smile at the fact that I remember.

  “Do you know how important that day was to me?” he asks softly, reaching a finger to run over my cheek.

  Skye’s hand moves from my chin and grabs my hands, bringing them to his lips. “That was the day I started believing in love at first sight.”

  The air leaves my lungs. Skye is searching my face for any kind of emotion. I’m positive the only one he can see is shock.

  “Chloe, when you walked into that diner, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. When you smiled at me for the first time, I knew that I wanted to spend forever with you.” A tear runs down my face and Skye reaches out to wipe it from my face. “What are you thinking?” he whispers, his minty breath hitting my face. I shiver.

  “I don’t know. Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure. I guess I didn’t know what to say, or how I was supposed to act. Why do you think I was always staring at you?” Oh, that sounds like a loaded question. I’m not about to tell him about my serial killer theory.

  I blush and Skye says, “I just wanted you to know is all. I don’t expect you to say you had the same feelings about me back then.”

  “Skye, I may not have felt that way then, but from the moment I walked into Tom’s office and laid eyes on you, you took my breath away. I can’t stand being away from you. I need you like I need my next breath.” I’ve never seen Skye’s full lips stretched so wide.

  Before I can fully enjoy looking at his beautiful smile, his lips are on mine. Once again, the loud alarm of my heart monitor goes off. “Ahem.” I hear someone clear their throat. Skye laughs and folds the sheet back. Once again, Sally is standing in the doorway with a big smile, and a hand on her hip. “Do I need to tell you two again?”

  “No, Mom,” Skye says with a wink.

  “Don’t go sassing me, you heathen. And don’t make me come back in here again.” She throws a wink back at him and walks out of the room.

  “You two are an odd pair,” I tell Skye, stealing a quick kiss on his lips. Skye only nods in agreement.

  “Chloe, the neurologist wants to get that scan out of the way and, Skye, I know you just got here, but it’s time to go. Chloe, are you ready, or do you need a moment?”

  “I’m ready,” I answer. Sally walks over to me, extending her arms out for me to grab onto for support. Reaching out, my fingers grasp around her soft flesh as she helps me stand on my shaky legs. My body goes limp, and all my weight is resting on her. I’m waiting for the inevitable moment we both crash onto the floor, but it doesn’t come. Sally surprises me with her ability to support my weight as if I weighted nothing.

  In two quick maneuvers, I’m sitting in the wheelchair, teetering on the edge of exhaustion, which is embarrassing since she did all the work. She reaches beside the bed, grabs the pole that’s hooked to my IV, and guides it next to me. I reach down, wrap both hands around my right thigh, and lift my heavy leg onto the footrest, then do the same with the other.

  She unlocks the brakes and maneuvers the chair out of the room. Once we’re in the hall, Skye leans down and kisses me on t
he cheek. I notice three nurses behind the large station directly across from my room.

  “I will talk to you later, okay?” I nod.

  A tall brunette stands when she notices me. “Chloe, it’s so good to see you out and about. How are you feeling?” She offers a kind smile.

  At the mention of my name, the other two nurses look up from their computers smiling, all waiting to hear my reply. “I’m good. Thank you for asking.” I smile in return. The exchange is a little awkward, so I’m relieved when Sally takes over. “I’m taking Ms. Thomas to have a scan done, so if you ladies will excuse us.” The chair begins moving again.

  While we stroll down the halls, I peek in several rooms. My heart fills with sadness as I pass by different patients, all hooked to various pieces of equipment. The last room we pass causes me to grab the wheels on the chair, halting Sally’s movement.

  Inside the room is a woman kneeling at the foot of the hospital bed. She looks like she’s praying. Lying in the bed is a small, pale little girl. The small child looks like she can’t be any older than four or five years old. Her porcelain skin glows radiantly against her wavy raven hair. Tears fill my eyes while I take in the tube in her mouth, the IV lines in her hand, and the greenish tint to the skin near her eyes.

  The mother must feel me staring behind her and turns to me. Her vibrant blue, tear stained eyes stare holes into mine. Seconds pass before she breaks the stare and looks to her worn sneakers. She glances back up, and I instantly spot her split and swollen lip. Before I think about it I ask, “What happened?”

  The woman just stares for a moment before she walks to the door, pushing it shut without a word. I look up at Sally, and the sad expression on her face tells me nothing. She must know my curiosity is getting the better of me. Before I can pry her for information, she says, “If I could, I would, hun. Chloe, the hospital policy prohibits me from talking about the child and her condition. I’m sorry.” I look at my hands folded in my lap, close my eyes, and send a silent prayer to God for the little girl and her family.

  A few minutes later, we’re repeating the process that we went through to get me in the chair, except in reverse. Moving me from chair to table proves to be just as exhausting. Right now, I’m wishing I were still lying in my warm bed. The table is hard, unforgiving, and cold. Sally spreads a thin sheet over me to help kill the chill in the room, but it doesn’t work.

  The room looks just as cold as it feels; white sterile walls with matching tile floors. The wall directly in front of me has a tinted window that’s hard to see through. Other than the giant CT scanner that sits directly in the middle of the room, the large space is void of any other furniture.

  “Chloe, this is Jacey, the anesthesiologist, and she’s going to give you a mild sedative to relax you. The scan will take a good hour or so, so just be as still as possible.” Sally smiles.

  Jacey takes my hand, injects a clear liquid into the IV line, and says, “Now count backward from ten, Ms. Thomas.”

  “Ten, nine, aye, sef...” My mouth is not working correctly and my words are starting to slur.

  “Chloe,” a singsong voice calls my name. I look around the shadows but there’s no one around. “Ooooh, Chloe,” the female voice chimes again, and then starts cackling hysterically. I spin in a full circle, searching for the unfamiliar voice in the darkness.

  “Hello?” I scream into the nothingness.

  “Babe?” Skye’s voice echoes.

  My spirits soar. Skye’s here and he’ll find me. “Over here, Skye.” I wave my hands and realize he won’t be able to see me, so I call out again. “Skye, where are you?” I stretch my arms in front of me, searching for something, anything, to give me a clue as to where I am.

  “Chloe!” Skye’s voice sounds desperate now, and it causes my heart to speed up. I blindly rummage around the abyss for I don’t know how long, until my stomach jumps in my throat.

  “Skye!” I scream and kick frantically, falling into a bottomless pit. I continue to drop through empty space for so long that I finally stop screaming. My hair whips around my face while I scan my surroundings, desperately searching for something to grab on to.

  What the hell is going on? Where am I? Where is Skye? Who was that woman calling out to me when I first got here? Question after question assaults my mind, with no answers to follow. I continue falling into nothing. My body is dead weight, dragging me down rapidly.

  “Chloe? Chloe, wake up, sweetie.” Sally’s voice comes to me out of the darkness. What’s Sally doing here? Wake up? What the hell is she talking about?

  “Sweetie, the scan’s over, and it’s time to go back to your room. Wake up,” she says again. I shake my head from side to side and groan. My eyelids flutter, and I’m momentarily blinded by the bright, florescent lighting until I slam my eyes shut.

  “H–How long have I been out?” I stutter unintelligibly, while trying to open my eyes.

  “Just long enough to do the scan. You must’ve been tired. That sedative was only supposed to relax you, but you passed out on us. How ya feelin’?” she asks.

  “Hung-over,” is my reply and she laughs.

  “Well, let’s get you back to your room and you can go back to sleep.”

  I shake my head from side to side. “No, I’ve been having some funky ass dreams. I think I’m good on sleeping for a while.”

  She gives me a concerned look. “What kind of dreams?” she asks.

  “Weird ones; I don’t remember half of them, but I can remember the freaked, panicky feeling.”

  “It may be the meds, but I’m going to note them in your chart just to be safe.” I nod. She helps me into the wheelchair. My head feels heavy, so I prop it in my hand while we venture back to my room.

  When Sally and I get back to my room, it takes a good fifteen minutes before I’m situated in my bed. I grab my e-reader and leave my phone on the table, determined to start my book. Before I can open the reading app, someone knocks on the door. “Come in,” I call out. The door opens up a small crack and I look up.

  When the woman from the child’s room walks in, I’m shocked. “Is–Is it okay that I came by?” she asks mildly.

  “Yes, of course. Come in, sit down.” I pull myself up higher on the bed, anxiously smoothing out the covers over my lap.

  She sits on the edge of the chair, and fidgets with her hands for a moment before she speaks. “I wanted to apologize for shutting the door on you earlier. That was rude of me.” She pauses and takes a deep, shaken breath before she continues. “I heard what happened to you. I'm sorry you had to go through that.”

  “Thank you, luckily I only remember bits and pieces. I also have an amazing support system to help me get through all the emotional pain.” I’m confused as to why she’s here. Suddenly, Sally’s words of wisdom come back to me, “Turn this horrible experience into something to motivate others that have suffered the same fate.” This may not be the exact same situation, but maybe my recovery can somehow give her the hope.

  “Cheyenne is in a coma. She has been for a couple of days now. H–How did you do it? Wake up, I mean.” I don’t know how to answer her question, so I stay silent. “Could you hear people talking to you? Or the things going on around you? I need to know if she can hear me.” A single tear rolls down her cheek.

  “I’m sorry, I wish I could answer your questions, but honestly, I don’t remember anything. I know that this is the wrong way to ask you this, and I don’t know how to word it, but are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help you?” I wish I knew what to do to help ease her pain. For some reason, I feel like this woman and I are kindred spirits. Like we’re connected on some level, I just can’t figure out what it is.

  She ignores my question in favor of asking her own, “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “Sure.” I wait.

  “How did you get away?” She looks up from her lap and that single tear has turned into two shallow rivers.

  “How did I get away from what?” I ask, scared
of her answer.

  “The abuse.” Her voice cracks on the last word and suddenly all the signs I failed to notice are there. The child’s bruises, and condition; the mothers lip. My body shakes with anger.

  I grit my teeth together and say, “I ran. I put as much distance between me and my abuser as possible. I really hope that I’m not stepping over any lines in saying this, but you need to do the same.”

  She looks up with fearful eyes. “I did, and he found us.” She breaks out in loud sobs. “I tried. I tried to leave, I tried to protect Cheyenne. I did.” She continues to weep, and I bawl with her.

  “What are the doctors saying?” I ask once I catch my breath.

  “That she’s gone. That I need to let her go. They want me to take her off life support, but I can’t. I can’t give her up, not yet. I’m not ready. He took her from me. She is just a baby.” I reach over and grab her hand. I know that it’s not much for comfort but it’s all I’ve got. I look to the opposite window, and notice Sally standing at there, watching our interaction. She gives me a knowing smile, nods in approval, and turns to leave.

  I can’t help but wonder why I was left here, while that little angel was taken from her mother so soon. Her sobs increase as she kneels next to my bed, clinging to my hand like a life line. Abruptly, she stands, her quick moment startles me. “I–I have to get back to Cheyenne.” She shudders and I nod. She walks to the door and turns back to me. “Thank you for listening. I'm sorry to intrude on your evening.”

  “Anytime you need me, please don’t hesitate to knock on my door. Let me give you my number.” I reach over, and grab a scratch piece of paper out of a note pad that’s sitting on the bedside table. I jot my name and number down, then hand it to her. Before she pulls her hand back, I look her in the eyes and say, “Do not hesitate to call. Doesn’t matter what time, day or night.” She nods and walks back to the door. She turns back to face me, offers a sad smile before she leaves.

  I’m so brokenhearted over the little girl. Looking at the clock, I notice it’s nearly midnight, and my eyes are getting tired. I close my tired eyes on a heavy sigh. Flashes of conversations flit through my mind. I think they may be dreams but I’m not completely sure. They feel too real. It’s just voices, no images, but they’re of Sara reading, crying, and talking to Skye. Skye playing music, and cussing about the chair. Tom! Something’s going on with him. I think I can remember him talking to me, but it may have been a dream. Flashes of him telling me he needed me go through my mind.