Totaled

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Totaled Page 27

by Stacey Grice


  “I appreciate that very much, gentlemen,” I replied, shaking each of their hands. “I’ll need to use the back door or whatever separate entrance you have. The front desk girl mentioned it.”

  “Yes, sir, absolutely. Just let us know when you wish to come and go and I will make the appropriate arrangements to ensure that you are privately escorted in and out of our establishment.” The gangly, awkward hotel manager’s eyes darted around the room, avoiding looking at mine as he spoke, while the security supervisor stared straight ahead like he was fucking secret service or something.

  “I’ll also need my name on the reservation changed to something different. Something anonymous. I want NO phone calls to my room or anyone else who is with me.”

  “Yes, sir, we’ll take care of that immediately,” William Dalton replied. “Of course.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry to bring all of this unwanted attention to your hotel and I’m very appreciative of your willingness to accommodate us. I’ll need another fifteen minutes and then I want to leave, to head to the hospital. Can you call a taxi for me?”

  “Even better, sir, I will have a car service take you wherever you want to go. This will be a much more private option.”

  “Perfect. Thank you.”

  “Mr. Smithwick will be back up to your room in fifteen minutes to accompany you down. And if you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to call me directly.” He handed me his business card and they both excused themselves.

  ***

  I was happy to see the hospital entrance clear of any media crowd when the car pulled up. It had been a few hours since I saw Bree, but I knew she would still be here with Liam. I made my way up to Liam’s room and was buzzed in by the keepers of the Critical Care Unit. I was actually thankful for the locked down unit after my experience in front of the hotel. I went right to the desk to speak to the secretary.

  “I need to talk with someone about making a patient confidential, please.”

  “Um, okay. And you are?”

  “I’m Liam Murphy’s brother. He’s in room 514 and we need to make his being here confidential please. We only want family to have access to him. No one else is to even know that he’s here.”

  “Yes, sir. That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll have our charge nurse come and talk with you as soon as she becomes available.”

  “Thank you.”

  Rounding the corner to Liam’s room, I was hit in the face with the most beautiful display of love that I had ever seen. Liam, lying still in his hospital bed, the same as before, and Bree, squished up next to him with her head on his chest and her right hand holding his left one across his body. She was asleep and subtly snoring, her breathing almost in perfect rhythm with Liam’s and the beeping of the monitor. I gently touched the top of her shoulder, making her immediately flinch and awaken.

  “Jesus! You scared me!” she whispered and yelled at the same time.

  “Sorry. You look so uncomfortable. I wanted you to know I was here so you wouldn’t wake up and get creeped out.”

  She laughed a little at that and carefully scooted off of the bed into the chair next to it.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked.

  “I’m starving, but I don’t want to leave him. What if he wakes up and no one is here?”

  “Let’s just get something from the cafeteria then. Or they have a little café across the street. We’ll be quick and get it to go. It will only take a few minutes. You’ve got to eat something.”

  “Okay. But we have to hurry. I have to be here when he wakes up.”

  A woman wearing scrubs approached us as we walked down the hall towards the unit’s exit, looking right at me with an odd expression. “Are you the brother of Liam Murphy?”

  I glanced over at Bree, noticing her confusion, and answered, “Yes.”

  “We’ve taken care of making Mr. Murphy’s identity confidential. Anyone wanting to visit or anyone who calls inquiring about his condition will be required to give this five-digit number.” She handed me a sheet of paper with the number printed on it. “We won’t let anyone have access to him or even know that he’s a patient here without this number, so give it out wisely and selectively.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I answered. “Thank you for taking care of that for us.”

  I ushered Bree down the hall quickly and we were buzzed out. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes, not until we were getting off of the main elevators.

  “What was all that about?” She looked confused but hesitant, like she knew something was going on and wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear about it yet.

  “Uh, there was a little bit of an incident at the hotel this morning when I got back there to shower. Apparently someone tweeted pictures of the fight at the bar and now there’re all sorts of media and photographers trying to get the story. I just want Liam to be protected.”

  She turned to face me, shocked and worried and shaking. “What do you mean, incident? What happened now?”

  “Well, I got out of the cab at the hotel and was ambushed by a herd of paparazzi yelling and snapping pictures of me, asking questions, yelling details that I was stunned they even knew.” She stopped walking and stood there staring at me in disbelief. “I don’t want you to be worried about this. I’ll handle it. I just don’t want anyone near Liam.”

  “What about you? You’ve got to move hotels.”

  “I’ve already taken care of the hotel. It should all be fine now.”

  We continued to walk toward the main entrance of the hospital together, headed for the sandwich shop across the street. The second that we walked outside, the distinct sound of cameras clicking and flashbulbs shining in our eyes accosted us. I felt Bree shield herself behind me, gripping and fisting onto my shirt. We couldn’t move. Unable to even take two steps forward, the noise of their questions overwhelmed me. It had to be at least double the crowd of photographers that greeted me at the hotel earlier. And they were even more ruthless now, screaming out their questions and snapping away with the camera repeatedly, blinding us.

  “Drew, are you injured? Why are you in the hospital?”

  “Drew, who did you put into a coma?”

  “Is he going to live?”

  “Is this your girlfriend? Who’s the pretty girl, Drew?”

  “Is it true that you are under review by the UFC Commission after last night’s bar fight?”

  Feeling Bree shaking in fear behind me, I stepped forward more aggressively, pushing our way through the crowd.

  “Drew, is your real name Brian Dougherty?”

  I made no comment other than to say, “Please move. Leave us alone.”

  “Brian Dougherty, did you really murder your parents?”

  That. Was. It.

  I turned around, gathered Bree in my arms, and barreled my way through the group of photographers, back into the hospital lobby. I didn’t stop walking and didn’t release her back onto the ground until we were safely inside. I slowly let her down until her feet touched the floor and she backed up to lean against the wall.

  She was still breathless, scared, and pissed. “What the fuck was that?”

  “We need to talk.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  BREE

  It felt as if I had just been punched in the gut. No. Not punched, kicked. Or struck with a baseball bat. Or t-boned by a semi, leaving my car crunched into a totaled tin can while I remained trapped inside. The absolute terror that we just experienced was enough to give me a heart attack. I didn’t understand. Why? Why was a mob of paparazzi outside the entrance of the hospital where my brother was fighting for his life? Why were they mobbing Drew? My Drew? He isn’t famous. He won a fight. One fight. It just didn’t seem to jive in my small town mind that winning one UFC fight, not even a featured or championship fight, would warrant that kind of fame instantly. And the things that they were yelling...the horrible questions they were asking. What the hell?

  I thought that I knew Drew, but maybe I really had
no idea. And now he was standing across from me, in this moment, with a look of betrayal and sorrow written all over his face. I knew I was about to learn things about him that I could never unlearn. Drew was about to devastate me.

  “So, talk,” I urged, just wanting to get it over with. I had been devastated in my life before. I had loved and lost. I supposed I could do it again.

  “I’m sorry that you had to see that, to hear those things. You have enough on your plate with Liam being in the condition he’s in and you shouldn’t have to deal with me and my drama on top of that.”

  “What drama, Drew? What the hell is even happening?” He reached out for my hands but I pulled them away. I needed to just listen without my thoughts jumbled by his touch.

  “Look, last night was a big night for me. It was one of the happiest moments of my life. I won, Bree. I beat someone that I had no business even being in the octagon with. I felt on top of the world. So we celebrated. I didn’t think I had a reason not to. But it all turned to shit. And now Liam is hurt, my picture is everywhere, and those scavengers are looking to expose and exploit me to earn an extra dollar.” He spoke while pacing around, desperately needing to explain but acting as if he had trouble finding the words. He rubbed his hands over his hair, back and forth, his palms coming over his face to shield his discomfort.

  “What is there to expose, Drew? Enough of the secrets!”

  He stilled and lowered his head, staring at the pastel green tiles of the hospital floor. I could have sworn that time stopped in that moment.

  “I’ve never really told you about my parents.” He spoke in a muted tone, with a timbre of fear in his voice.

  I had never seen Drew scared before. I had never heard him sound like this. I didn’t like it at all. The man that I loved was breaking in front of me. I reached down and took his left hand in my right, squeezing it and intertwining my fingers with his. I stepped closer to him, more into his space, and slowly brought his face up to look at me with my left hand.

  “Just tell me. Whatever it is, just tell me. I love you, Drew. I love all of you, your past, present, and future. Nothing that you could tell me would change that.”

  “It will change everything.”

  “It won’t change how I feel about you,” I assured him, “but you have to open up to me.”

  He hesitated, battling with himself, shaking his head back and forth and breathing heavily. “I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve any of this success.”

  I reached up to him, grasping both sides of his face to force him to look at me. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears and there was emptiness behind them. I felt like I was peering into his tormented soul, broken and shattered into a million little pieces, totaled beyond repair. My big, strong, burly Drew was standing before me, a shell on the verge of cracking.

  “Please, just tell me. Please trust me.”

  Just then, the elevator bell dinged and the doors opened, allowing the two passengers to depart. Drew stood still, not entering the elevator, and turned to walk away. I followed him around a corner into a small nook with a couple of chairs and an end table housing magazines for waiting family members. No one was around in that moment, which was a godsend. Drew didn’t sit, so I remained standing too and came to face him.

  “I love you so much, Brianne Abigail Murphy. So much it hurts. I’m so sorry.”

  “Drew, baby, don’t do this. Don’t shut me out. Don’t decide for me what I can and can’t handle.”

  I felt his body still before me and his demeanor changed. He stood up completely straight, towering over me, bowing and tensing his chest slightly as if he was bracing himself to be struck.

  “I killed my father,” he said in a rush, like it was all one word. He looked at me, waiting for a response, watching my every move and expression, waiting for me to react in whatever way he had imagined that I would.

  Despite feeling like my breath was completely stolen from my lungs, I calmly managed to speak, not wanting to freak out while everything around me was spinning like I was inside of a tornado. My insides felt like a fourth of July fireworks display was all going off at once. “Why?”

  “I came home and found him beating my mother,” he admitted sadly, not meeting my eyes. “He beat her all the time, beat us all the time. But that day, he was killing her. And I lost it. I killed him. And I was unable to save her.”

  I glanced down to see his hands shaking, his breathing pattern rapid, like he was reliving the moment. As horrible and shocking as his confession was, I wanted nothing more than to comfort him. I raised myself up onto my tiptoes to reach him and joined my mouth to his. His lips were hard, a straight line of firm stubbornness and pain. I kissed softly, tenderly coaxing him into receiving my love. He softened after a few seconds and opened his mouth slightly to accept me, to let me in. I tried to pour every speck of love that I felt for this man, every ounce of commitment, every fiber of devotion and loyalty, into this kiss. I wanted to love all of his pain and suffering away.

  Sharply and suddenly, he pulled away from our kiss and buried his face into the crook of my neck, almost ashamed and embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, Bree. I never meant to hide this from you. I never meant to hurt you or your family. You have to believe me.”

  “Shh,” I said, trying to soothe him as I petted his hair and stroked the rigid muscles of his upper back and shoulders. “I believe you. I trust you. I love you. This is all going to blow over. And I’ll still be here, right here, with you.”

  He pulled away from me and looked down at me, dumbfounded. “You can’t be serious. How the hell are you even for real? How are you not livid and fuming right now?” He shook his head back and forth in disbelief.

  “I am angry. I’m hurt. But not about what you did. I want you to love me enough to trust that I will be with you through thick and thin, and I can’t do that if you don’t allow me in. You have to be honest with me. I shouldn’t have to learn about stuff like this from a media circus,” I barked at him, hearing my voice raise at the end of my statement. Thank goodness we were still alone.

  “I know. I’m so sorry about that madness. I’ll handle all of that. I’ll never keep anything from you again. I promise you.”

  I saw the truth behind his eyes. I saw that he was determined to prove that he would make it right. I saw his love for me and his need to protect me from harm at any cost. We stood there, holding each other for a few minutes, lost in our thoughts. I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that my boyfriend killed someone. Not just anyone, but his own father.

  Drew looked like he was trying to digest the fact that he had just confessed (what was hopefully) his deepest, darkest secret to me and that I had reacted in an accepting way, his brows still furrowed in dismay. “I don’t want you to be scared of me now,” he blurted out. “I would never hurt you.”

  “I know that,” I said, stroking his arm, trying to reassure him. “I trust you. It’s not about your past or your mistakes. It’s about your heart.”

  “Good. I could never be the monster that man was. I just want you to know that.”

  “Thank you.” I ran my fingers through his hair and cupped his face, turning him to look at me again. “I really need to get back to Liam.”

  “Okay, yeah, sure. I’ll walk you back up.”

  We turned from the small, isolated corner that we had huddled ourselves into to try to talk privately. Heading towards the elevator, Drew grabbed my hand, weaving our fingers together and walking slightly in front, just enough to be leading me down the hall. We reached the elevator doors and waited for the passengers to exit before walking into the car and pushing the button for the fifth floor.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  DREW

  As the elevator climbed the five floors to get us back up to the Critical Care Unit, my mind was racing. Every gear was turning, every synapse firing at once. The myriad of emotions I was experiencing all at the same time were overwhelming to say the least. My head felt like a pressure cooker, the
lid about to burst open from the tension of the steam behind it. My heart felt warm, swollen, and alive, just fucking on fire. My skin was clammy and sensitive. My fingers tingled, almost itched, and I moved my eyes to look at them on my right hand, the hand that was joined with Bree’s, pulling me gently to follow her off the elevator.

  I loved this girl. I cared more about her in this moment than I did about my next breath. I could not, would not, fail her.

  We made our way back into Liam’s room and found him still peacefully resting with his eyes closed. I heard her sigh of relief. She didn’t want to leave his side.

  “We never got you something to eat.”

  “It’s okay. I’m sure I have a granola bar in my bag or something.”

  “No, Bree. You’ve got to eat something. You’re no good to Liam if you pass out over there from low blood sugar. I’ll go down to the cafeteria and grab you something. It’s better than nothing.” I was going to get her to eat something, whether she liked it or not.

  “Okay. If you insist on getting me some fatty, greasy, French fries from the grill, I won’t argue,” she said with a fake pout. “I also won’t be upset at all if you mix equal parts mayonnaise and ketchup into a heaping mound of sauce for me to dip them in.”

  “Oh yeah?” I replied with a grin. “And you probably won’t be angry if I happen to acquire a giant cup of sweet tea to wash it all down, huh?”

  “Not at all. No anger here. Salivating just thinking about it.”

  “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. Be back in a few.” I was happy that we could still joke and flirt despite the heaviness of the conversation we just had and the circumstances we’d found ourselves in.

  I bent down to kiss her cheek, and as I was lifting my head up to walk away, I felt her grab the collar of my shirt and pull me back down, taking my lips with force. Bree kissed me hard, slipping her tongue inside my mouth just enough to make me feel a hunger for something much different than French fries. I kissed her back with every emotion I was feeling in that moment, our tongues undulating in a perfect rhythm with each other. Without breaking the kiss, I dropped down onto my knees so that my face was level with hers, sitting in the chair. We kissed like it was our last kiss, like we were never going to see each other again. I poured out my heart and soul to her with my confession in the hall way and again with this passionate moment, and she accepted it all unconditionally, returning it with conviction. I felt it in her touch and with her energy. She loved me. We were going to be okay. Better than okay.

 

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