“Bianca.”
That one word.
That one name.
Glasses clink together in the wash bin, the soles of shoes stick to the floor as people are rushing, completing their tasks.
Frozen.
I take in what little information she has offered. Everything is closing in.
“What about Bianca?” I manage to choke. Sweat beads on my forehead causing my hair to stick. I don’t know what’s happened to her. I just know it’s bad. Lynsey’s appearance, her seeking me, and the lifestyle we grew up with. If one of my father’s enemies has come back with a score to settle, the debt will not end with her. I’ll kill any bastard who hurts her.
“Hospital. I got a call from Callie,” she says hurriedly. I have a hard time following them, but I do hear, “Blood. Not responding.”
I don’t bother answering her or listening to anything else. I have an urgent need inside me to get to her.
See her.
Feel her breath against me.
Lynsey is following me, her sniffles in close proximity. “What hospital?”
“Largo.” It’s a twenty-minute drive, and I can make it in ten if she hurries the fuck up.
I don’t slow; I don’t let anyone know where I’m going. Jumping in my car, I find the quickest route to get to her. I park, not caring if I get towed, and search the waiting area in the Emergency Room for a familiar face. Bronson and Gianna wait nervously. I know Callie is close, and that asshole doesn’t seem to be here. Bronson’s eyes bulge at the sight of me. “Where is she?”
“Getting treated. Calm down, Heath. She’ll be okay.”
“What the fuck happened?”
“I don’t know. She left the reception, and next thing I know, the hotel is calling the house phone saying police and ambulances had been called. The staff heard screaming and shattering glass and couldn’t get her to answer the door.”
“Jesus. Why?”
He averts my gaze, and I see him swallow. “Not my story, but I’m thinking it’s bad. There was blood all over her, they cleaned her up, but as far as I could see, her hands were the only things damaged. She punched a mirror in the bathroom until it broke.”
I’ve never known her to exhibit violence. Pissed off . . .sure, but viciousness is not something in her repertoire. “Dakota.” He nods even though I wasn’t asking; I knew the answer. Fuck, when will he finally stop hurting her? “Where is he?”
“At the house.”
“Are you kidding me? He does this and doesn’t follow through to see if she’s going to be okay. He may be your best friend, but he’s a dick.”
“He doesn’t know. He’s passed out. It was pretty bad for him, whatever happened.”
“You said it was her hands. Why is she here?”
“She closed her eyes and wouldn’t respond when we got there. Doctors say she didn’t lose enough blood to cause her to be unconscious, but there could be plenty of factors. They think she’s been through trauma, and her mind is trying to heal. Too much for her to deal with.” His pained stare meets mine, the aftermath of everything his sister has been through weighing heavily on him.
“She can’t give into this. She has to fight through it.” My voice is pleading, but I don’t know whom I’m begging. Bronson, God, Bianca, or myself.
“I missed so much. I was wrapped up in my own life. I encouraged her to forgive Dakota if she could. She scared the hell out of me. I couldn’t get her to respond. It’s like I watched my sister disappear in front of me.” His eyes wander to the clock on the wall, the stress leaking out of his words, and the blame worn like a badge of armor.
“I want to see her.”
“Once she regains consciousness they’ll allow visitors.” I level my stare at him.
“I. Want. To. See. Her. Imagine if that was Callie. We don’t have a problem, but you try to stop me, we will.” He releases a resigned breath and walks to the nurse’s station. After a few seconds, he sweeps his arm towards the door, giving me the signal to go through. I nod my head as I pass, not so much as a thank you but an acknowledgement for not fucking with me.
“Bed seven.” He walks back towards his mom, and Callie comes around the corner holding Angelo in her arms. She looks shocked to see me but doesn’t say anything, just watches me as I stride towards Bianca’s room.
I open her door, tripping on my own feet when I focus on her. An audible gasp escapes me.
Chapter Three
Dakota
It’s still cloudy how I woke up in my hotel room. I have no recollection of anything past watching her walk out the door. Ending our future. That moment stays with me, like a movie reel stuck on the ending. I scrub my face, making sure to get soap and water in my eyes in the hopes I can quit focusing, quit seeing the story of us. Loud pounding overshadows the constant ring of my phone. It’s been going off for the past hour, along with the room phone, and I’ve successfully ignored both, but this has taken it too far. Take a hint. I didn’t answer my phone - that’s a clear sign I don’t want to be bothered, so who the fuck is interrupting my self-imposed solace by waking the entire hotel? I yank open the door to Callie; tears stain her face, eyes blood shot from lack of sleep, hair disheveled, white dress stained with blood.
Blood. My breathing falters. “W-wh-what happened?”
“You happened, Dakota. You ruined her. You did this.” Callie's voice catches on her sobs.
Bianca.
Blood.
No.
I swallow the lump in my throat, “Callie, what happened?”
“Fuck if I know. You broke her, though. Her spirit is gone. Her heart hurts. Her mind succumbed to the misery last night. Bronson got a call after dropping your miserable ass off last night that Bianca was in danger. She had checked herself into the room where she spent her first night with you.” My breath hitches, and my focus is solely on the red stain. “We got there after the ambulance. She spent the night floating in and out of consciousness.”
“Is she alive?” That’s all that matters.
“Yes. Her injuries weren’t serious, but it’s her mind they’re concerned with. Whatever you said or did to her last night has caused a complete shut down. The doctors spoke to her when she regained consciousness, and they don’t think she’s suicidal, but they are waiting for a psychologist’s opinion before releasing her. You’d never know that after seeing her last night. She smashed the mirror. All she kept saying was she wanted the pain to end.”
“Where is she?”
“No. No fucking way, Dakota. You stay away from her. I don’t care what you have to do to ensure that, but the choice is made. I choose her. I’m making the choice you should have made years ago. I hate you Dakota Hyatt, and if you come near her, inflict one more ounce of your torture . . . I will end you. I learned a thing or two from my father. You’ve taken enough from her. You robbed her of everything good, you don’t get to take anything else.” I stare at her. This stranger in front of me. The hatred is radiating off her, causing her body to shake and her words to slice.
I’m at a loss for words. “Why’d you come here if you don’t want me to see her? Is that what she wants?”
“She doesn’t know what she wants. She walked away from you last night, and you need to stay away from her now. For good. You aren’t the one for her. I came here to tell you because I want you to know what you did. I want you to live with this guilt. I want you to bleed. It’s your penance, knowing what you had, what you did, and most of all the destruction you caused.” She believes each word, and I can’t argue with her. It’s the truth.
“Where’s Bronson?” I need to make sure she didn’t drive here.
“Making arrangements for his sister to be able to come home. Making sure we can get her set up in therapy. Immediately. All the damage you did must be erased.”
“Callie,” I begin.
“I don’t want to hear it. Just stay away from her. From me. From us.” Her confrontation is final. Decisive. Words I never thought I would hear and I refuse to
believe. I watch her steps, never wavering as she makes fast work of disappearing.
I shut the door allowing the sturdy surface to absorb my weight, knowing my legs can’t hold me.
Bianca.
Hospital.
Blood.
My actions caused this. My conviction that we were meant to be together drove her to the brink of ultimate destruction.
I can’t continue to take from her. I have to let her live. Free to make her decision without constant pressure and remembrance from me. I won’t abandon them, my friendship and love isn’t going to disappear because Callie wants it to. I’ll figure out something, I won’t be a constant presence, but we are all a part of each other, and no amount of anger, betrayal, and hurt can sever that tie. I can’t allow that. I won’t consider it.
I push off the door and do the one thing I can. Face the music. Pay the piper. Get dressed and go to the hospital. I won’t be wanted, and this isn’t about me. She needs our focus. Not us. I’ll give them an outlet for all their bitterness. I warrant it, and they deserve to expunge it upon the guilty party. I’m not a martyr by any means, but I am going to man up and do what I can to rectify my wrongs. Near or far they are my family. Exiled or not, they own a part of me. Solidarity or discord, they own a piece of me, and it’s time I give them all of me.
My apologies.
My remorse.
My promise to not inflict more suffering on Bianca.
Each mile closer, my heart becomes heavier with the decision I’ve made. It’s a necessary one, one I’ve mulled over, and it kills me to know after everything, it ends here and now. All the fights, the struggles, the pain, the joy, the laughter, the love . . . it’s the finale.
The hospital has an ominous feeling as I search for Bronson. I’ve hurt his sister; I’ve hurt my friendship with him. He entrusted me with her heart, her happiness, and I let him down. In turn, I’ve disappointed myself. The sterile feeling of the hospital mirrors the cold feeling coursing through me. I see him standing outside of her room, deep in conversation with Gianna.
He catches sight of me. His entire body goes rigid, and anger flashes across his face before he can mask it. I continue my path towards him, and the disgust continues to wrap me in a blanket.
“How did you know?” Gianna turns at his words, and her eyes convey the betrayal she feels.
“Callie came by and told me.”
“I can’t imagine that was pretty.” A slight smile forms as he imagines what his wife said to me.
“It was the truth. I just wanted to come by and see how she is doing. See if you needed anything.”
I feel a hand grip my forearm, and I’m forced to face Gianna. “Dakota, you can’t be here. You can’t see her. I don’t know what has happened, but you’ve done enough damage.”
I nod. “I know. I’m not here for that. I can’t say sorry enough. Those words don’t convey what I mean. I came to see if I could do anything. Help in anyway. I don’t want to cause any more damage.”
“Help me understand.” Her pleading stabs me in the heart.
“Gianna, I messed up. I respect you and love you like you’re my own mother. You’ve made me a part of your family, and this is the hardest truth I’ve ever had to say. I broke her heart. I was callous, immature, petty. So many other things, but they don’t matter. I accept the blame. I’m the reason this happened. I give you my word, no more. I won’t hurt her again.” She squeezes my forearm, I’m confused if that’s for reassurance to me or the weight of my confession is weakening her. “Bronson can fill you in or you can wait until Bianca is able to.”
Silence. It echoes through the corridors. Our hell in the making. I nod to the end of the hall, and Bronson immediately follows me.
“You know I’d let you see her. It isn’t all you, Dakota. Every one of us has blame in this.”
“No. It started with me. It ends with me.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m headed to the office. I’m going to ask for a temporary transfer. She needs to heal without me in her face as a constant reminder.”
“She’s going to think you abandoned her. How do you think she’s going to feel?”
“Can she get any worse? She’ll hate me. That may be the final push she needs to get over me. Break this hold we have on each other. I can’t be responsible for her pain any longer. I can’t do this to her another minute. I’ve been selfish long enough. This wasn’t a cry for help, Bronson. She had no other outlet for the agony. It’s all trapped inside her, and I put it there. She means more to me than I can say. If she needs to hate me, resent me, blame me . . . she can do it all as long as she gets better.”
“You need to tell her. You need to give her that choice.”
“No.”
“You’re a coward.”
“Maybe. The one thing I’m afraid of is her not surviving this. Or doing something else permanent. If that makes me a coward, so be it. I’ve taken so many choices from her, thinking of myself. This time I’m thinking of her.” I step back and scrub my hands across my face. This inner turmoil is filling me with self-doubt. “If I go in that room and tell her my plans, you know what will happen. She’ll feel guilty. She will react. Beg me to stay, worry that me leaving is her fault. She’s going to blame herself, thinking I can’t survive without y’all.” I take a deep breath and put her well being ahead of my wants. “I won’t put any more at her feet. She has nothing to feel guilty for, she didn’t cause this, and it’s time for me to face the consequences of my actions. I should have faced them years ago, but I thought I could make it better. I didn’t. I made it worse.” I lean back against the wall needing help supporting myself. I can’t imagine a life without her. “She is going to need you. She’ll try to distance herself; act strong, but you know her better than anyone. Take your blinders off, take your loyalty to me out of the equation, and see what she is going through. Hate me if you have to, just don’t let her slip through the cracks.”
“Damn it, Dakota. Why’d you have to do this? I’m so fucking pissed at you, at her, at the situation. You put us all in a bad situation, and maybe I’m to blame for thinking she could get over it.”
“Could you get over it if it was Callie? I know you felt betrayed by her, but what I did . . . that was a slap in the face to what we shared. I broke down every wall she had, I became her best friend, and I abused that. I don’t know how to reach her, and that is a testament to how tall her walls are. She’s closed every part of her off, and it’s slowly killing her. Fight with her. Fight for her. Don’t give up.”
“I promise.” He grabs me and gives me a hug. “Will I see you before you leave?”
“Probably not. I don’t know if I can get a transfer, but either way, I’m going to make myself scarce. I need to put myself back together. I have to find a way to move forward without her. All this time I never let myself believe we were over. I have to comprehend that now. Let the dream go.”
“You going to be okay?”
“Time will tell.”
“Watch your back. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I think my quota for stupidity has been met for this lifetime.”
“I’ll keep you updated.” I take a deep breath and turn from my best friend, leaving my heart and life here with him.
I don’t remember crying when we buried Dana, though I’m sure I did. I try to remember the pain I felt that day, but it must pale in comparison because all I can focus on is the gripping agony I feel at this moment. In this moment, every other memory is non-existent. It’s embracing every facet of my body, running through me, overtaking me. I fight to find strength to leave. I pause outside her room, knowing in my mind it will make things worse, my heart arguing with reason. It’d be so easy to slip in and beg her for another chance, leave knowing I gave it all I had. I step closer, peer inside through the glass and stop.
Nothing.
Nothing could have prepared me for this. Her face pale, her eyes closed.
Hollow.
>
She looks empty. Unkempt. A portrait I thought I’d never see of her. This is the ugly reality. I did this.
Stepping back, I trip over my feet, fleeing from this veracity. I wasn’t prepared for the outcome. She went from deity to dust because of my callousness. I went from saint to sinner in one moment.
I let her go in the middle of a hospital while running from what I dreamed was my future. She begged me last night, told me she was releasing me from the guilt, the pain I inflicted time and time again. In doing so, she absorbed it all, and it ruined her.
I ruined her. That girl in the bed, she is a shell of who she was. I’m not the man I dreamed I was, the one I claimed to be.
Bellissimo Rilascio (Beautiful Release): The Family Series #3 Page 2