Silver Dove (Silver #2)

by E. J. Shortall

  “You’re here now, Dad, that’s all that matters.”

  “I’m going to leave the two of you with your brother. I’ll be in the waiting room, okay?” Craig said looking at me with concern in his eyes. Right then I didn’t need his concern or sympathy, I needed his strength. I needed him to be the strong, controlling person who wouldn’t take no for an answer, the one that I first met eight months ago. I needed him to pull on his stern boss man mask and call this all out for the bullshit it was. But he couldn’t, nobody could.

  “Please don’t go far, Craig.” I pleaded.

  “I’ll be right down the corridor if you need me.” Then, with a soft kiss to my forehead, he turned and left the room.

  “So, Ambs, how was the party?” Dad asked, drawing my attention back from the empty doorway.

  “What?”

  “Your party last night, how did it go? Sorry I couldn’t make it.”

  “It was fine… Well until I got your call it was.” I moved across the room and pulled up a seat next to Dad’s, looking around at all the tubes and drips and monitors attached to James. “Have they said anything to you… about how he’s doing?”

  “Not much, just that he had a stable night but he’s still critical. I’m just waiting to speak with the doctor, but I think they are going to do some more tests today or something.”

  We both remained silent for a moment, lost in our thoughts.

  “Who would do this to him, Ambs? I know he had his problems, but what monsters would do this to another human being?”

  “I don’t know, Dad. I wish I did,” I sighed.

  “I can’t lose him. You two are all I have left.” Hearing the emotion in his voice just about broke me, and I found myself pulling my chair closer to his so I could wrap my arms around him.

  We stayed like that for what felt like hours, taking comfort from each other whilst watching over James, and silently praying that he would come back to us. All too soon we were disturbed by Dillon, the new nurse on shift, who had to do James’ observations, check his IV and other stuff that I had no clue about. Dad used it as his opportunity to escape for a while, stating he needed fresh air.

  I stood back watching the peak and trough of the coloured lines on James’ monitor while Dillon continued with his checks and care routine. As soon as I was able to, I moved back to the side of the bed and reached over to take hold of James’s hand. I needed to feel some sort of connection to the lifeless man before me, to feel some sort of hope that we hadn’t already lost him.

  “Hey, how’s he doing?” Craig was standing in the doorway, his hands buried deep in his pockets, watching my every movement.

  “No change,” I replied.

  “Do you want to take a break? We can go grab a coffee or something.”

  “I can’t leave him, Craig. What if the doctors come? One of us needs to be here to speak with them.”

  He walked over to me and took hold of my hand. “We’ll be ten minutes. You need a break, Amber. You can’t just sit here like that with him. It’s not helping either of you.”

  I looked to Dillon for support, hoping he would tell us that the doctors were about to come, but he smiled and told me it was fine. Reluctantly I eased myself up from my chair and started walking with Craig toward the door. We were about to leave when alarms started screaming and beeping and Dillon dropped what he was doing to run over to James. Before I knew what was happening, doctors and nurses were rushing into the room and Craig was pulling me out screaming.

  “No, Craig, let me go. I need to be in there.” I thrashed against him, trying to free myself but he had his arms wrapped tight around me, trapping my arms by my sides. “Craig, what are you doing, I can’t leave him. He has to know I’m here; I have to tell him I’m sorry. James,” I yelled, but it was no use, Craig continued to pull me away and I heard someone’s voice as they ushered us into a private room. “Craig, please you have to let me get in there, I need to know what’s happening. He’s my brother, I need-” Craig cut of my pleas when he pulled me against his chest, rubbing his hands up and down my back.

  “You have to let the doctors see to him, baby. Let them do their job okay?” he whispered into my hair.

  “But… I need to tell him I’m sorry, I need to tell him I forgive him,” I sobbed as I began to tremble. “I need him to know that despite everything, I love him,” I whispered as I dropped my head against Craig’s shoulder.

  “I know, baby. I know. But right now allowing the doctors to do their job is the best thing you can do for him.” He brushed his fingers along my cheek, encouraging me to look at him. “He’s getting the best possible care. They will do all they can for him. Okay?” I nodded, unable to form words as emotion clogged up my throat.

  If I had to look at that same misaligned, dreary coloured, sunflower picture one more time I was going to scream. We had been sitting in the broom cupboard they called the ‘Relatives Room’ for what felt like hours. As I listened to the loud ticking of the clock on the wall, my hope for James faded away.

  “What is taking so long? Why are they not telling us anything?” I murmured and stood once again to pace the room.

  “I’m sure they will be in as soon as they can.” Craig stood beside me as I looked out of the small window at the hustle and bustle of the world carrying on as normal below. “I’m worried about you, Ambs. You’re too pale. Please come and sit down.” He tugged on my hand and encouraged me to join him on the seats. He sat on the end of the small two person sofa and pulled me down onto his lap, hugging me against his chest. I breathed in his familiar scent, taking what comfort I could from it, trying to calm my jagged nerves. “Everything will be just fine,” he tried to reassure me.

  “You don’t know that,” I whispered into his chest. “Nobody knows how he’s going to be. If they did they’d be in here telling us now.”

  “You’re right; I don’t know what is going to happen with James. I’m talking about you though, Ambs. No matter what happens in here today, or over the coming days, weeks or months. I want you to know that you’ll be fine.”

  “How do you know that? I’m a mess already, Craig.”

  “Because I’m right here with you, and I’ll help you through,” he sighed into my hair.

  Just then the door opened and all the blood drained from my face when I saw the look on the faces of the two people who walked in.

  “I’m so sorry you’ve been kept waiting so long,” the older gentleman said. “I’m Dr Grisham, and I believe you know Dillon here,” he gestured towards the tall male nurse standing beside him. Taking a seat opposite Craig he looked over to my dad, who had been sitting in the corner, lost in his own thoughts. “You are all family of James?” Dad nodded.

  “I’m his father; this is his sister, Amber and her fiancé, Craig.” The doctor turned his gaze back toward me.

  “As I’m sure you are aware, James suffered some complications and we had to work to try and stabilise him. Unfortunately James’s injuries were too severe and we were unable save him. James passed away a few minutes ago.”

  A cry ripped through my throat as tears began free falling down my cheeks.

  The doctor continued. “At this moment in time we are unable to tell you the exact cause of death, although the signs point to a bleed on the brain.” He continued talking with Craig and dad as they asked him questions, but I wasn’t listening. I vaguely heard the words post mortem and inquest but I didn’t take them in. James was dead. My brother was gone. I didn’t even get to say goodbye, I didn’t get a chance to say I was sorry.

  Craig

  It had been three days since James died. Three days in which Amber had withdrawn further and further into herself. Three days of utter helplessness for me. I was worried about her. I knew what grief felt like, I knew what guilt felt like, and I knew she was feeling both. What I couldn’t seem to get a grip on was how to get through to her that she had nothing to feel guilty about. James’s death had nothing to do with her.

  The bright l
ight in Amber’s eyes had been fading hour by hour since the doctor told us they couldn’t save James. I’d tried the usual pick me up tricks to try and make her feel better. I brought her favourite chocolates, wine and flowers, I even offered massages and pampering sessions. None of it worked and it left me feeling out of my comfort zone and frustrated. One of the advantages of the promiscuous existence I’d been living before meeting Amber, I’d never had to deal with emotions or hormones or clingy life suckers demanding my full attention. This was a whole new ball game for me.

  I had been standing in the doorway for five long minutes watching Amber on the sofa, curled up and pretending to read. In those five minutes she had not once moved a single muscle. Her ereader might have been in her hands but her gaze had been firmly fixed onto the dank, dark grey sky visible through the French windows.

  “Can I get you anything, Pingu?” I asked her eventually, trying to break her free of the spell she appeared to be under. “Coffee, water, wine?”

  She turned her head, her vacant eyes looking straight through me. “No… I’m okay… thanks,” she said in such a quiet tone it was difficult to hear her.

  “Amber, you can’t sit here like this forever, baby. He’s gone, you need to move on, get back to work, get on with your life… our life.”

  Her eyes darted to mine and the total and utter emptiness and coldness in them sent shivers down my spine. I thought it was only in suspense novels and movies that people freaked out from a look alone, but right then, that look in her eyes made me, Craig Silver, want to cower away.

  “Don’t tell me what to do, or how to feel, Craig,” she growled. “I have just lost my brother for fuck’s sake.” My eyebrows shot up at hearing my Pingu swear. “It doesn’t matter what you say to try and make me feel better, his death is on me. ME, Craig,” she screamed. “His death is on me. So please, leave me alone to wallow in my self-pity, while you get on with life.” She lifted her ereader again and turned to face away from me.

  It may not have been what I was hoping for, but at least there was a hint of emotion and fire there. It was better than nothing.

  There was only one other person I knew of that Amber would listen to, and who would not allow her to fester in her gloom. Becki knew all about Amber’s pity parties; she had been the one there for Amber and had helped pick up the pieces when David decided he’d had enough. I left Amber to her thoughts and walked off into the kitchen. Out of earshot, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and searched through my list of contacts. Becki was my last ditch attempt at being able to bring Amber back into the brightness of our life before we received that fateful phone call.

  “Yo, wassup bro?” Becki chirped down the phone in greeting.

  “Becki, I need you-”

  “Now, now Craigy, I’ve told you before, you just aren’t my type. Besides I’m kinda with your best mate now. That might be a bit awkward don’t you think?”

  “Becki, will you shut the fuck up for two minutes please?” I exhaled into the receiver, beyond irritated. I needed her to focus and help her best friend.

  “Whoa there, no need to get your boxers in a bind mister. What’s with the attitude? Oh that’s right, you’re Craig, the big chief, Silver. Of course you’re a miserable prick.”

  I sighed. “Becki, please, right at this moment I don’t give a shit what you do or don’t think about me. But I do need you to focus and do the best friend thing.”

  “Why, what’s up? What’s wrong with Amber?” she asked, her tone morphing from irritated to concerned.

  “She isn’t taking James’s death well at all and, as much as it pains me to admit it, I don’t have a clue how to help her. She won’t listen to me. She’s just sitting around, staring into space and doing nothing. You’ve got to help me out here Bec. You’ve got to help her out.”

  “Is she doing anything at all?”

  “No”

  “Nothing? Nothing at all?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Shit!” she exclaimed.

  “What? Tell me Becki, what?” I growled at her down the line. I didn’t have time for that bullshit. I needed to find out from someone who had seen Amber through the good and the bad, what I needed to do to bring her back.

  “This is exactly what she was like for a while there after Dickhead Dave jilted her. It wasn’t pretty, Craig. She was on another planet most of the time. When she was with us, she wasn’t the Amber we knew and loved; she was blank and distant but acted as though everything was okay. She was quick to spiral down toward depression then. You need to support her, Craig. Don’t let the demons take her, we can’t let her go back to that place again,” she pleaded.

  “Why do you think I am fucking calling you huh? I’ve tried. I’ve been trying every minute of every day for the past three days. Nothing I say or do is making the slightest difference. She either rips my head off or says nothing. She needs her best friend, Becki. She needs you!”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, so very, very wrong. She needs you, Craig. She may be going through a rough ride in her own head, but don’t doubt that girl’s love and commitment and her need for you. Yes I’ll come and see her and try and talk some sense into her, but it’s you she needs to cuddle up with. It’s you that she'll end up running to when the burden of her grief comes crashing down on her. Just be patient with her, Craig, please just be patient. And keep loving and supporting her just like you are now. That’s what she needs.”

  We said our goodbyes and she promised to call Amber to try and get her to open up.

  Being the fantastic and supportive fiancé that I was, I decided to make my little, troubled spitfire a coffee and try once again to cheer her up.

  “Here, I made you a coffee,” I said placing the mugs down on the coffee table and taking the seat next to Amber. “How’s your book?”

  “What?” she snapped, her irritation with me still apparent.

  “I was only asking how your book is, Ambs… I’m not the bad guy here you know? I’m here to support you.”

  She put the ereader down and sighed. “I know… I’m sorry. I just can’t shift this feeling, Craig. It doesn’t matter what you say, or what I try and tell myself, I can’t shake off the fact that I didn’t help James when he needed me. That fact most likely contributed to his death. I just feel so empty.”

  “Come here.” I opened my arms, encouraging her to sit with me so I could try to offer her some comfort. She immediately crawled over into my lap. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her in tight to my chest, wanting to cocoon her in the safety of my love for her. “I understand where you’re coming from, baby, believe me, I understand.” I murmured into her sweet scented hair.

  Her head moved as she shook it against my chest. “No, Craig, you don’t understand. You haven’t been through this.”

  “You’re right, I haven’t been through your situation, but I do understand how you’re feeling. After Dad died I felt nothing but guilt, anger and confusion. I’ve told you before how much I blamed myself, believing that all the stress I put him through lead to his illness. At times I still have those feelings, but I’ve learned to accept that it wasn’t my fault, just as you are not to be blamed for James.” She remained still and quiet in my arms and I hoped it meant that she was reflecting on what I’d said.

  A screaming guitar riff and pounding drum beat broke the silence. Amber dashed over to the side table and picked up her phone to answer it. It always made me smile when I heard Amber’s ring tone for her best friend, ‘Freak Like Me’ by Halestorm. It was so appropriate for Becki.

  “Hey Bec,” Amber answered softly. “… I’m doing okay… I’m at home, chilling with Craig. Why what’s up?” I continued to listen for a minute or two and then left them to their conversation. I could only hope that maybe Amber would open up to Becki a little more if I wasn’t around.

  I wanted to clear my head so I made my way up to our room to change into my workout gear. A long run was what I needed to ease my agitation and g
ive me some time and space to think about what else I could do to help Amber.

  She walked into the room as I was tying the laces on my trainers. “Everything alright?” I asked as she came to sit next to me on the side of the bed.

  “Hmm, she was just calling to see how I am. She said she’s worried about me becoming a depressed hermit. I wonder who she’s been talking to.” She looked at me suspiciously out of the corner of her eye.

  “I might have mentioned to her that you weren’t feeling yourself,” I said without remorse. I would not feel bad for wanting to help my fiancée feel better.

  “Yeah, well, she said she’s not going to let me fester again and will drag me out kicking and screaming if she has to. So tomorrow we’re going to meet at The Swan when she finishes work. Do you mind?”

  I frowned in confusion. Why would I mind? I wanted her to go out and enjoy herself, to try and think about something else. “Why would I mind?”

  “I… I don’t know. I thought you might want me here or something.” The nervousness had to be because of the way that fucker of an ex used to treat her. I remembered her saying how he had never liked her going out.

  “Amber, baby, if you want to go out with your friends, go out with your friends. I don’t have a problem with it.” I moved so I could crouch in front of her and look her in the eyes. “I have told you over and over, I’m not him. I won’t hold you back from doing anything you want or need, and right now you need Becki.” Leaning forward I ghosted my lips across hers. “I’m going for a run. When I get back we’ll have a relaxing bath okay?” She bobbed her head with a small smile and I placed one last kiss on her soft lips and stood.

  “I love you.” Amber shouted out, almost desperately when I neared the door,

  “And I love you, Pingu. We’ll get through this okay?” I watched her closely as I backed out of the room, hoping that I was right.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Amber

  Grief was a funny thing, especially when accompanied by suffocating guilt. I spent three days cocooned in my own head, trying to make sense of my thoughts and emotions. The trouble was nothing made sense. I’d tried rationalising, questioning, ignoring and conceding that what happened had nothing to do with me. No matter what I thought or did, though, I always ended up talking myself back around to the same thing, I let James down. If I had just given him that money last summer, maybe he would have got himself out of trouble and finally started living an honest life.