Stepping Stone

by Dakota Willink

  “Nice to meet you,” Dr. West said with a nod in their direction. “I have the results from Krystina’s tests.”

  “What do they say?” Elizabeth hurriedly asked.

  “The CAT scan and MRI do not indicate any abnormalities. Her vital signs and respiratory patterns are good. The assessment of posture and body habitus shows no signs of damage to her central nervous system. Combined, there is little reason for me believe that her head trauma will incite any long term damage.”

  “What do you mean by little reason to believe?” I asked, noting how he was noncommittal about Krystina’s recovery.

  “I can’t say for sure until she wakes up. For now, she appears stable. But she could be in this state for several days to several weeks. Sometimes longer. I won’t be able to give a more accurate diagnosis until she emerges from the coma.”

  “What happens when she does?” Elizabeth questioned.

  “That depends on the individual, but she will most likely need special attention for some time to come. We don’t know what combination of physical and psychological difficulties she’ll suffer from. Even the most responsive patients often need care after returning home.”

  “Oh, my,” Elizabeth choked out. She brought her hand to her heart and her eyes glistened with tears.

  “I have rounds to make right now,” Dr. West informed us. “But if you notice any changes, call the nurses station immediately and they’ll get in touch with me.”

  “Will do, Doctor. Thank you,” I told him.

  “Frank, get with Ally,” Elizabeth said after the doctor had left. “We need to talk to her about packing up Krystina’s things. After all of this, she’ll need us. The best thing for her is to move home.”

  Over my fucking dead body.

  “No,” I stated firmly.

  “What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked, obviously taken aback by the authoritative tone of my voice.

  “I mean exactly that. No,” I reaffirmed. “Krystina will not be moving back to Albany. She will stay right here in New York. This is her home now. When she wakes up, and she will wake up, she will come home with me. I will take charge of any care that she might need.”

  Elizabeth laughed as if what I had said what the most absurd thing she had ever heard.

  “With you?” she spat out bitterly. “She barely knows you. I don’t think so.”

  “Elizabeth,” Frank interjected. “I think you’re putting the cart before the horse here. We don’t need to decide anything right now.”

  “Actually, this is not up for debate,” I told them both. “Not now. Not ever. Krystina will be staying with me. And I don’t mean temporarily. She will be there permanently.”

  ****

  I could hear talking, voices echoing quietly in the distance.

  Alexander. My mother. Frank.

  They were arguing.

  I heard my mother shouting at Alexander, and Frank trying to calm her down.

  “You don’t know what that man put her through!” my mother raged. “She was like an empty shell of a person for a full solid year! And now here she is, barely back on her feet, and then you come along. Now look at her! Look at her! I’m sure this all has something to do with you! Do you honestly think that I would let you destroy everything that she’s worked to overcome?”

  Her voice seemed far away, like she was yelling through a fog.

  Why is she yelling?

  Who are they talking about?

  “Elizabeth, calm down,” my stepfather pleaded with her.

  “No, you’re wrong about that,” I heard Alexander say.

  His voice. I loved the sound of his voice. I felt so confused, but hearing him was calming.

  “Don’t you dare try to pretend that you know what I’m talking about!”

  “But I do. I know exactly what he put her through. In fact, it’s possible that I know more than you do. But I am not Trevor.”

  Trevor.

  No.

  Why did Alexander say that name? His name?

  Just hearing his name brought back a firestorm of memories. The shame and denial, my confusion and pain – the emotional onslaught ripped at my heart and brought me back to a dark time that was filled with so much uncertainty; to a time when I was overwhelmed with self-doubt, terrified that nobody would believe me if I told the truth about the rape.

  It was a time that I had worked so hard to forget.

  I had a vague recollection of seeing him again. In an alley.

  Why was he there?

  He shouldn’t have been there?

  Why was I there?

  I wished that Alexander and my mother would stop talking about him. I didn’t want to remember.

  I wanted to forget it all. To not think. About him. About everything.

  I allowed the darkness to take me once again, effectively tuning out any further mention of the memories that I wanted to leave buried.

  CHAPTER 28

  It was day nineteen, four hundred fifty six hours since Krystina was brought to the hospital. She hadn’t changed, but was still as lifeless as she was on the day she was brought in. If it weren’t for the heart monitor that was quietly beeping in the background, I would feel the need to check her pulse every sixty seconds.

  I tried to ignore the paleness of her skin and the frailty of her frame. Each day, she seems to shrink smaller and smaller in the oversized hospital bed. I felt like she was slipping further and further away from me with each passing minute, but there was nothing that I could do to stop it.

  “Knock, knock.”

  I looked up at the sound of Matteo Donati’s voice. My friend, along with Allyson, had become regular company during my watch over Krystina. They brought food and offered words of encouragement, and were a sharp contrast to Krystina’s mother. She was full of what-if’s and negativity, always focused on the worst possible outcome – an outcome that I couldn’t bare to think about.

  Because of that, Elizabeth Long and I had many heated arguments during Krystina’s first few days in the hospital. Thankfully, the nurses stepped in and advised that everyone present should focus on positive conversation. If they hadn’t, there was a good chance that I would have resorted to drastic measures in order to keep her barred from the room.

  Since then, Matteo, Allyson, and I did exactly that, choosing to spend our time in the hospital talking about good things and funny memories in the off chance that Krystina could hear us. Elizabeth Long, however, had chosen to limit her presence to just thirty minutes a day going forward. It was fine by me. The less that woman was around, the better.

  “Hey, Matt,” I said absently.

  “How is the princess today?” he asked, using the nickname that he adapted for her after I told him about Krystina’s email that she signed ‘Princess from Alderaan’.

  “Same.”

  “I brought leftover turkey from my mothers house. Sorry that it isn’t more,” he apologized as he set a bag of plastic containers down on the table in the corner. “I would have brought you a proper dinner, but my contractor ripped out the old ovens at the restaurant a few days ago. The new ones won’t be installed until Monday.”

  “Whatever you brought will be fine. It’s food. How are things coming along?” I asked, although I didn’t really give a rat’s ass. I only posed the question to help pass the time.

  “Good, good. I’ve settled on the menu layout and I placed the order for the street signage.”

  “Oh, really? Have you finally decided on a name for the restaurant?” I asked, feeling genuinely curious and interested in a discussion for the first time in weeks. The name of Matteo’s restaurant had been a point of frustration for him for quite some time.

  “I have,” he began and looked to Krystina. “Do you remember the night you brought Krystina to the restaurant?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “I joked with you that night about naming it after her. Well, I’ve been watching you over these past few weeks, my friend. I’ve listened to your stories about
her. And I see the way that you look at her. I know that your heart is breaking.”

  “Matt,” I said in a warning tone.

  “Hear me out. You know that I believe Krystina will come around.”

  “And she will,” I said vehemently. “We’ve all concluded that she’s just being stubborn. Krystina never does anything until she’s good and ready.”

  “True words, my friend. True words,” he agreed and laughed. “She is stubborn. I don’t know how she’s put up with you for this long.”

  I pursed my lips in annoyance.

  “Matt, where are you going with this? We were talking about the name of your restaurant,” I reminded him.

  “Sì, sì. We were. I want you to know that, no matter what the outcome is for you and your princess, you’ve inspired me. You both have. Because of that, I decided to name my restaurant Krystina’s Place.”

  I picked up Krystina’s hand and brushed my thumb over the top of it, thinking of our first date. Even though I didn’t think of it as a date at the time, that night would always be important to me. It was the first time that I was able to get a feel for who she really was. Her spunk and liveliness drove me mad, yet it drew me to her at the same time. I now realized that it was the night that I first started to fall for her.

  “Krystina’s Place,” I said quietly. “I think she’d like that. Thanks, Matt.”

  “So, I ah…” he trailed off in hesitation.

  I looked up at him and saw that his brow was furrowed, as if he were trying to find the right words for what he wanted to say.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I just spoke to Justine.”

  I closed my eyes, not wanting to think about my sister in that moment, or about how absent she had been since the car accident.

  “What did she say?”

  “She’s in panic mode right now. The press is still digging for answers,” he informed me. “Between your speech, the accident, and Charlie’s ramblings at the scene of the crash, they are putting two and two together. You were front-page headlines again today, but it’s still just speculation. Justine’s afraid that they will uncover the truth.”

  “They won’t find anything. I made sure of that year’s ago. I just need to make sure that Charlie keeps his mouth shut.”

  “The judge refused set bail for him.”

  “Good. Let the asshole rot,” I spat out.

  “There’s more.”

  I shook my head.

  “There’s always more. Just lay it out, Matt. My patience is slim to none right now.”

  He looked at me sympathetically before continuing.

  “He’s talking about a plea deal.”

  “That’s bullshit!” I shouted angrily. “He’s a gambling degenerate that should be jailed for blackmail, extortion, intent to embezzle, and kidnapping. Top it off with vehicular manslaughter, and he should be going away for a long time.”

  “That’s just it,” Matteo explained. “Charlie’s story is that Hamilton took the wheel and caused the wreck. Charlie doesn’t want to do time for manslaughter. He’s more willing to plead guilty for the other stuff because the sentencing isn’t as long. If he took the wrap for everything, he’d be looking at a minimum of twenty-five years.”

  “I’ll make some calls. He’s not going to get off that easy.”

  “Honestly, I don’t think you should be worrying about any of that right now. Your focus should only be on Krystina.”

  Instantly, my temper flared.

  “Don’t you think I fucking know that? She’s been my only focus, Matt! I’ve been here, with her everyday, for almost three goddamn weeks!”

  He held up his hands in surrender.

  “I know, man. You don’t need to justify anything to me. I’ve seen you. It’s been rough.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said and backed off. “I know that you understand how difficult things have been. I didn’t mean to snap, but I just can’t stop thinking about how I might have been able to change things. If I had warned Krystina that Charlie and Hamilton were up to something on the night of the gala, if she had even the slightest heads up, maybe this could have all been avoided.”

  “You can’t change it. Even if you did tell her, you know how she is. She never would have listened to you.”

  “I wish I knew what she was doing in that ally in the first place,” I said and shook my head. “I don’t know. I should have put her on a fucking leash.”

  “Well, figuratively speaking my friend, I’m sure that you have one.”

  I choked out a laugh, but not one of amusement. It was bitter.

  “Only you would say –,” I stopped short and looked down at Krystina’s hand. It was still resting in my palm and could have sworn that I felt her finger twitch.

  “Leashes are for dogs, Alex.”

  I slowly brought my gaze up to meet her face, thinking that I was just imagining the voice that I had been waiting to hear for three long weeks. The voice that called to me in my sleep. The voice that fueled my veins and set my world on fire.

  Krystina peered at me through sleepy eyes, her mouth tilted up in a small smile.

  “Grazie a Dio!” Matteo exclaimed. “I’ll get the doctor.”

  ****

  I looked at Alexander through heavy eyes. It was a true effort to keep my lids open.

  “Krystina,” Alexander choked out.

  He seemed visibly shaken, and his exhaustion was apparent. Stubble shaded his jaw line and his eyes were blood shot. He appeared haggard and completely strung out, as if he hadn’t slept in days.

  “Hi,” I whispered. My throat was so dry. “I’m thirsty.”

  “You’re thirsty,” he repeated, his voice clogged with emotion. His eyes were filled with worry and relief. “Oh, angel. I don’t think I’ve ever heard sweeter words. I was so worried.”

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. To my astonishment, I saw a tear begin to slide down his cheek. This man, a force of nature, his powerful self-possession so magnetic it put all those around him in his shadow. Yet here he was, brought to his knees because of me. It was a humbling sort of feeling.

  “I’m sorry,” I said hoarsely. “I didn’t mean for you to worry.”

  He quickly wiped away the moisture under his eye and brought a finger up to my lips to silence my apology.

  “Shh. No, don’t. Don’t apologize for anything. I’m just so glad that you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

  I tried to focus on how I felt, but found that it was difficult to concentrate.

  “Groggy,” I told him honestly.

  He pressed a kiss to my forehead and I could feel him trembling against my skin. It was as if he were desperately trying to maintain his composure. I tried to reach up to touch his face, but the sheer effort that it took to move my arm made me want to go back to sleep.

  “Rest, angel. Don’t try to move.”

  Why do I feel so weak?

  The minute that the question popped into my head, the memories of what happened came flooding back. They were blurred at first, almost as if it had been a dream. But then all at once, every thing seemed to erupt with clarity.

  The alley. Charlie. His hand on my breast. Trevor. The car. Tires screeching on pavement.

  And then nothing.

  What happened?

  I remembered being in the trunk of a car, but didn’t recall anything after that point. Possibilities of what may have transpired began to fill my head in an overwhelming onslaught to my senses.

  Taken against my will. Two men. Both with a history of abuse towards women.

  I didn’t know much about Charlie, but the other was my rapist. Instinct directed my attention south, to the intimate parts of my body that may have been violated.

  No pain. Everything feels like it’s in order.

  Relief flooded through me, but nausea still threatened to overtake me. I began to panic as hysteria rose up to my throat. I didn’t want to know what happened, but I knew that I had to find out.

 
; “Tell me what happened, Alex,” I begged, my voice hitching up an octave.

  “Not now. There is plenty of time to talk. Right now, we need to wait for the doctor to come in and get you checked out.”

  I tried to move to a sitting position, but the room began to tilt. I rested my head back against the pillow, fighting to keep my eyes focused.

  Stay alert. I have to stay alert.

  “Please, Alex. I don’t have the strength to argue. Just tell me.”

  His eyes were full of anguish and sadness before he dropped his head into his hands. When he looked up at me again, he looked conflicted.

  “A lot has happened. I don’t want to overwhelm you. We should wait for the doctor.”

  “No. I can handle it,” I vehemently croaked out.

  I had no choice but to handle it. I needed the reassurance that history did not repeat itself, or worse.

  “Well, look who decided to join us.” I turned my head towards the door just as a gray haired man in a white coat entered the room. He smiled at me with kind eyes as he came over to my bedside. “Krystina, I am Dr. West.”

  “Hello,” I said with a small smile. Even smiling seemed to be an effort.

  “She said that she’s thirsty,” Alexander told him.

  “I’ll bet she is. I think we can get her some ice chips for now until I can arrange for something more substantial,” Dr. West said. He began to look over the machines that were keeping track of my vital signs. Leaning over me, he flashed a light in my eyes. I blinked from the shock of the brightness. “Looks like you may be out of the woods, kid. How do you feel?”

  “Kind of fuzzy. Tired too, but I don’t want to fall back asleep,” I told him.

  “It’s normal to be tired. Most likely, you’ll only be awake for short spans of time over the next few days. Don’t worry about sleeping or frequent naps. Your body is going to need it for a while.”

  “Krystina was just asking me to tell her what happened,” Alexander said. “I told her that I wanted to check with you first.”