by Roxie Rivera
As the pain medication started to flatten the pounding throb in my head, I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, desperate to ease the nausea rolling through my stomach. The door opened, but I kept my eyes closed, feeling that awful mouthwatering panic starting to build. Not wanting to vomit, certain it was going to make my head feel even worse, I tried to will away the sensation but it was useless.
“Cassie!” Hagen was suddenly at my side, a pink basin in one hand as he gently supported me with the other. “It’s okay, baby. Just let it out.”
Embarrassed and in pain, I made a mess of the basin, the meager lunch I had eaten coming up in a puddle. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s no reason to apologize.” He rubbed my back and held the basin in place. “Is that all?”
“I think so.”
As I closed my eyes, he guided me back to the pillows. His heavy footsteps marked his trip to the bathroom to deal with the basin and then his walk back to my bedside. He had a warm, wet cloth in his hand that he used to wipe my face. “Better?”
“Yes,” I answered, my voice raspy and weak.
“Drink some water, baby,” he urged, holding a straw to my lips with his bruised hands. I didn’t want to drink anything, but I knew he was right. I needed to stay hydrated. He dabbed at my mouth again with the cloth and set aside the cup of water. “Are the pain meds bothering your stomach?”
“Maybe?” I swallowed thickly. “My nurse is getting some anti-nausea medication for me.”
“Good.” He stroked my cheek, and I leaned into his touch, soothed by his warm skin on mine. “I wish this bed was bigger so I could climb in and hold you.”
His rough voice and the vulnerable softness to his eyes made my heart flutter. I reached out to touch his jaw—and then a horrible screech broke us apart. A commotion erupted in the hallway as a woman shouted and others tried to calm her down. She didn’t react well to that, and a second later, the crash of metal clanged loudly. The door to my room flew open, and Hagen rose to his full height, spinning toward the door and blocking my body with his.
I couldn’t see the woman who ran shrieking into my hospital room, but I could hear her. She was completely out of control as she screamed, “You’re the son-of-a-bitch who killed my son!”
All hell broke loose as the woman rushed Hagen, battering him with her fists and trying to claw at his face. She was too short to do much damage, and he twisted away from the hospital bed, putting as much distance between her and me as possible. The woman—Travis’s mother, I assumed—was enraged, spewing angry words as she attacked Hagen. Even though he easily could have shoved her away or knocked her down, Hagen only blocked her blows.
“Ma’am! Please!” A doctor tried to grab her, but she smacked his hands away and lurched at Hagen again, this time swinging the chair at him like a TV wrestler. Soon, other doctors and nurses were in the room, all of them trying to get a handle on her. Ameka skirted along the edge of the altercation and stood in front of me, taking up the same spot Hagen had been in earlier, protecting me from any wayward blows. Finally, a pair of security guards ran into the room and managed to get a hold of her.
“You little bitch! I know it was your fault! You and your lowlife brother!” She kicked and screamed, cursing me and Hagen as they dragged her out of the room. Her voice echoed down the hallway as she called us murderers and vowed to kill us.
Shocked by the scene, I sat there, mouth agape, heart racing, and tried not to cry. I couldn’t find it in myself to be mad at her. She was a grieving mother, desperate for answers and for somewhere to place the blame.
“Are you okay?” Hagen strode toward me, his eyes stormy as he brushed off the concerns of the doctor and nurse who were trying to tend to his scratched neck and forearms.
“I’m okay. Are you?” I reached for him and let my gaze roam over his body, taking in the scratches and bruises already developing.
“I’m so sorry,” the doctor apologized. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
“You’re damn right it shouldn’t have happened,” Hagen snapped angrily. “I spoke to your staff about this before I left this morning. I warned them something like this could happen if their visitors weren’t kept separate.”
The doctor raised his hands in a silent gesture to placate Hagen. “We were keeping them separate, but Travis’s case was…” He trailed off as if realizing he was stumbling right into a HIPAA violation. “The situation changed this afternoon, and there were no more visitors expected.”
I glanced at Hagen, catching his gaze as understanding registered. Looking at the doctor, I said, “We aren’t going to hold the hospital liable, and we aren’t going to press charges or cause any problems for her. Please make sure she’s able to go home and grieve.”
The doctor nodded and left the room, taking the extra nurses with him. Ameka washed her hands and checked me over again. She trailed her fingers along the IV lines and the tubes coming out of my head drain before giving me the dose of meds for the nausea. She made a note that I had vomited and then left me the room, quietly closing the door behind her.
Hagen had disappeared into the bathroom while she was assessing me. He came out with his face and arms freshly scrubbed, the scratches cleaned and the blood rinsed away. He dropped into the chair next to my bed, exhaling roughly and leaning forward with his head in his hands. “What a fucking shit show this is.”
My gaze lingered on his scraped and swollen knuckles. I didn’t want to go there. I really didn’t. But I couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t telling me the truth. Travis’s mother’s voice echoed in my head, her accusations that Hagen had killed him leaving me to question if something had actually happened.
“John.”
He looked up, his eyes narrowing when he saw the serious expression on my face. “Yeah?”
I swallowed anxiously. “What happened to your hands?”
“I told you.” His eyes flicked away from my face for just a second. “I was in a fight.”
“With?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” I studied him for a moment before finding the courage to ask, “Did you fight with Travis?”
He looked down, as if he couldn’t bear to meet my gaze. Scrubbing his hands through his hair, he blew out a noisy breath and admitted, “Yes, but—”
“But what?” My stomach clenched with panic. “Did you beat him? Did you hurt him?”
“I punched him. Twice.”
“Oh my God.” I covered my face with my hands as the horror of our situation hit me.
“No. No!” Hagen sat forward and reached for my hands, drawing them away from my face. “I didn’t hit him that hard. He came into the bar, spewing his fucking nonsense, looking for a fight. I warned him to go, but he started running his mouth about you, and I snapped. But he walked away from the bar.”
“Did he hit his head? Did he fall? Are you sure he walked away? He wasn’t stumbling or dizzy or…?”
“Jesus Christ, Cassie! Are you seriously asking me that?”
“You lied to me about the fight. Of course, I’m asking you this. Did. You. Kill. Him?”
“No!”
I flinched at his raised voice. “Don’t shout at me.”
Shamefaced, he nodded. “I didn’t hurt him bad enough to kill him, Cassie. You have to believe me.”
“What I believe isn’t the issue, John. His mother thinks you did. Has she told the police that? Are they going to find witnesses who saw you two fighting?”
“They can question anyone they like. Everyone will vouch for me.”
“And Janine?”
“What about her?”
“She tried to bash in my skull in last night because she thought you were the one who put Travis in the hospital!”
“This isn’t my fault!”
My head pounded as our argument grew heated. “Yes, it is!”
He jerked back as if I had slapped him. “Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know what t
o think anymore.” I gritted my teeth and fought the tears burning my eyes. I was on edge and barely able to contain my emotions. “I tried to stop you from confronting them in the laundry room, but you stormed off and had to handle things the way you always do. You got into a fight with Travis. He ends up in the hospital where he dies. Janine attacked me, and now I’m here, with a hole in my head and blood on my brain. I might end up with permanent brain damage. I could develop seizures or never recover the vision in my eye.”
“What are you saying, Cassie?”
I looked away from him, his chest heaving as he breathed and gritted his teeth, and wiped at the tears running down my face. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“I think you do,” he said angrily and stood. “If that’s what you think, if you intend to blame me for what happened to you, then I should leave.”
My heart broke, and I couldn’t bear to lift my gaze to his. “Maybe you should.”
He hesitated only a second before striding out of my hospital room without another word.
Crushed, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the pillow. Carefully, so as not to disturb my IV or the drainage tubes, I turned away from the door and let the tears come.
Chapter Eight
When there was a timid knock at my hospital room door the next morning, I turned my hopeful gaze toward it. A moment later, Kyle poked his head into the room, and I had to school my features to keep my disappointment from showing. It wasn’t his fault that I was expecting Hagen.
Kyle didn’t seem to notice and smiled contritely. “May I come inside?”
“Sure. Of course.”
He carried in a green glass vase filled with bright, happy sunflowers and a small gift bag. As he placed the vase on the counter across from the hospital bed, he said, “I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved yesterday.” He moved to the empty chair next to my bed and sighed. “I only want what’s best for you. I want you to be safe. I shouldn’t have upset you like that.”
“I appreciate your apology.” My gaze moved to the pretty sunflowers cheering up my room. “And the flowers.”
“I saw them in the shop, and it reminded me of the photos of you and Taylor at the corn maze last year. You had your faces in those big wooden sunflower photo props.”
“That was a fun day,” I said, a little surprised he remembered those photos we had shared on Instagram. “I had planned to take Hagen next weekend, but after last night…”
Kyle frowned. “After last night what?”
I shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
“I have time. I’m here to listen if you want to talk.” He smiled encouragingly. “I’ve had plenty of experience with peer counseling. Let me help you.”
I wasn’t sure I was ready for that just yet. It seemed like a violation of my relationship with Hagen to tell Kyle about our fight. Part of that was me wanting to protect Hagen from anyone thinking less of him. I didn’t want my friends to hold grudges against him.
“We were both stressed out last night and said some things we shouldn’t have,” I explained. “We’ll figure it out.”
If he comes back…
“If there’s anything I can do to help, just ask.”
“I will.” I couldn’t imagine what Kyle could do to help fix a problem with my boyfriend, but it was nice of him to offer nonetheless.
“Here.” Kyle handed me the small gift bag. “I got you something as an apology-slash-get-well present.”
“You didn’t have to get me something,” I protested. “Flowers were more than enough.”
“I wanted to,” he insisted. “Open it.”
Curious, I pulled out the bunched-up sheets of pink tissue paper and reached into the bag to retrieve the bracelet inside. The round enamel beads were a brilliant blue with white circles and black dots on each one. With my vision still blurry in one eye, it was hard to examine the beads, but they seemed to be hand painted. One had a little defect in the black paint, just a little scuff that made the bracelet all that more precious. “Oh, it’s so pretty!”
“It’s supposed to be a Russian good luck charm. Something about repelling the Evil Eye.”
“God knows I need all the luck I can get lately,” I murmured and carefully slid the bracelet onto my wrist. I enjoyed the look the of the blue beads against my skin. “Thank you, Kyle. It’s so sweet.”
“You’re very welcome.” He tucked the paper back in the bag and placed the bag on the rolling table. “So, how are you feeling this morning?”
“Tired,” I admitted. “Sore. I have a headache, but it’s not too bad.”
“Is that going to be a long-term thing? The headaches, I mean?”
“Maybe,” I replied uncertainly. “The neuro team told me that it’s hard to predict what head injuries will do. I’m lucky that mine was minor, all things considered.”
“Doesn’t seem very minor to me,” he grumbled. “You had to have your head drilled open.”
“Yes, but I didn’t have a stroke or lose a huge chunk of my brain function,” I reasoned.
“Your vision? Has that cleared up any?”
“No,” I answered reluctantly.
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Cassie.”
“It will get better,” I said, more to convince myself than him.
“When do you think they’ll let you out of here?”
“No idea. I probably have another five to seven days here.”
He made a face. “Seven days of hospital food.”
“Surprisingly, it’s not so bad. It’s nothing like the cafeteria garbage we all ate as kids.”
“If you need me to sneak in some Whataburger or a couple of tacos, let me know.”
“I’ll probably take you up on that offer once they move me to the step-down unit.”
“When is that happening?”
“The doctors did their rounds earlier and think I should be able to move there tomorrow.”
“Will you be going back to your apartment when they discharge you?”
“I’m moving in with Hagen.” A little uncertain, I ran my fingers over the cold enamel beads of the bracelet. “Or, at least, I was.”
Kyle hesitated before offering, “My second bedroom is still available if you need a place to land for a bit.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I wasn’t sure that was a viable option either. I would need help the first few days out of the hospital, especially with showering, and there was no way I was going to ask a guy friend to help with that. I wasn’t even sure I would feel comfortable asking Taylor for that kind of help, but if Hagen was still upset with me, I wouldn’t have much choice.
Kyle checked his watch. “I have to run, but if you need anything, just call or have one of the nurses help you text me, okay? I’m scheduled to volunteer at the counseling center later, but I can leave if something comes up.”
“Taylor is coming by later, but thanks.”
“No worries.” He stood up and moved closer to give me a hug. It was a bit awkward with all of my IV lines and bandages, and his arm got tangled up in the drain dangling from the side of my head. “Sorry, Cassie.”
We laughed as we untangled everything, and I was still smiling when he left. The smile and happiness didn’t last long. Alone with my thoughts, I let my gaze drift to my phone. It had been sitting next to me on the bed all morning but had yet to ring or chirp with a message notification. Tired of waiting, I decided to reach out first, hoping Hagen was ready to talk.
I covered my left eye to clear up my blurry vision and tapped at the screen. I had to stop and delete so many times because my fingers were fumbling. Even when I managed to type things correctly, I couldn’t stand to look at the screen for more than a few seconds at a time. My stomach swirled with nausea, and I hoped I wasn’t going to throw up again. My short message typed and sent, I dropped my phone back on the bed and closed my eyes, leaning back against the pillows and willing my stomach to stop pitching.
“Hagen stopping by soon?” Vicky asked
as she brought in my next dose of meds and checked my IVs and the drain.
“I’m not sure,” I answered, not at all in the mood to talk about Hagen with her. She seemed to understand I wasn’t looking to chat and finished her work without another word.
After she left, I turned onto my side and decided to sleep. Fatigue seemed to have settled into my very bones, drawing out all the strength I had and leaving me so tired I could barely stay awake for more than a couple of hours at a time. The neuro team had warned me that I would need more sleep than usual for the next few months, but I hadn’t realized they meant this kind of exhaustion. It was unsettling and left me feeling weak and vulnerable.
A long time later, I woke to the smell of a dinner tray. The scent turned my stomach, and even though it was so empty it growled, I couldn’t bear the thought of trying to eat anything on the tray. It was still sitting there untouched when Taylor arrived.
“You need to eat.” She lifted the lid on the tray and scanned the offerings. “The chicken soup looks good.”
“Then you can eat it,” I replied snappishly.
Her eyebrows arched. “Wow, they must have skipped your anti-bitch pills today.”
I rolled my eyes before apologizing. “Sorry.”
She put the lid back on the tray and sat on the edge of the bed. “Spill it. Tell me what’s got you so cranky.” When I didn’t immediately talk, she poked my leg. “Hagen?”
I nodded and swallowed hard.
“Did he get busy at work and not make it in yet?”
I shook my head.
“Cassie, this is going to take forever if you make me keep guessing.”
I blinked back tears. “We had a fight last night.”
“A fight? Here? While you’re in a fucking hospital bed with a hole in your head? What the hell is wrong with him?”
“It wasn’t just him. I accused him of something awful, and he got upset.” I rubbed my forehead and sighed. “It was a mess.”