by RB Hilliard
“I bet you get sick of people complimenting your hair color,” Tiffany said. I used to, I thought. “It really is striking with the color of your eyes.”
Mallory shot me an I-told-you-so look, and I rolled my eyes at her. “Thank you,” I told Tiffany.
After oohing and ahhing over Mallory’s dress, we headed to lunch at a posh restaurant nearby. Mallory had somehow managed to get us a coveted patio table.
“Your dress is absolutely stunning,” I told her, once we’d been seated.
“And your hair is gorgeous. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding it all this time.” She pretended to look hurt, and I laughed.
“I did it when I was on the run from Conor.” Mallory’s expression instantly sobered. “It felt wrong to keep pretending, but,” I fingered my hair, “this feels wrong, too.” Mallory reached across the table and grabbed my hand.
“I get it. In a way you’re both Gillian and Rowan. Your hair is gorgeous. You are gorgeous. You know, we’re very much alike. I had to learn to merge my past with my present in a very different way, but I still get what you’re going through.” The waitress stepped up with a bottle of champagne and two champagne flutes. My gaze locked on Mallory, and she smiled. “I thought we would celebrate.”
Over lunch and copious glasses of champagne, we discussed Nash, Grant, and the band. Both of us adored Evan and neither of us knew what to make of Chaz.
“I think he had a difficult childhood,” Mallory said as she took a bite of salad. She pointed her fork at me. “I can tell he likes you, though.” After nearly choking on my bite, I asked her how she’d come to that conclusion. “Because he gave you a nickname. Chaz gives nicknames to the people he likes.”
Arching a questioning brow at her, I asked, “What does he call you?”
“Malpractice, malady, maladroit, malaise. He’s actually got quite an impressive vocabulary,” she answered, and we both laughed.
After our salads, we ordered two types of pie for dessert. While waiting for it to arrive, we continued to sip our glasses of champagne. Mallory was approached by several Meltdown fans. A few asked for autographs and one even asked for a photo, all of which she graciously declined. I was surprised at how well she handled the fans.
“You’ll get used to it,” she said.
By the time we were finished with the pie, we were both somewhat drunk.
Mallory pointed to an alcove, and said, “I’m too blitzed to drive, so I’m going to step over there where I can hear and call Hank.”
I waved her off. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here slurping down the rest of the champagne.” I wiggled the bottle, and laughed when some bubbled out of the top.
“Save some for me, bitch,” she whined. I made a point to fill her glass first.
As I was pouring the rest into my glass, someone bumped into me and knocked my arm. The glass toppled over and there went my champagne. “Hey! Watch where you’re going,” I said as I leaned over to grab my napkin off of the dirty floor. Before ending up with a lap full of bubbly, I slapped the napkin onto the table to absorb the sticky liquid. After a half-assed apology, the woman quickly scurried away. I contemplated going after her to demand that she buy me another damn glass of champagne, but then Mallory returned with a frown on her face.
“What happened here?” she asked.
“Some lady bumped into me and I spilled it,” I whined.
“Here, have my glass. Grant was in the room when I called Hank. He’s pissed. I was supposed to meet him at the cake shop in an hour and now I’m too drunk to drive. Hank’s driving him to get us now.” Mallory waved over the waitress and handed her a credit card.
“Grant’s not going to notice if you’ve had one more glass,” I scoffed.
“I know, but he took all the fun out of it.” She handed the glass over. “There’s no need for both of us to end this lunch sober. Drink up.” I took a few more sips, before giving up. Mallory was right. It wasn’t as much fun if both of us weren’t hammered.
On our walk back through the restaurant, I began to feel a little flushed. I’d forgotten how champagne affected me. When we reached the front door, I was no longer flushed, but hot and my throat felt as if something was trapped in it. When my vision blurred, I knew I was in trouble. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. I grabbed for Mallory, but she wasn’t there. I clawed at my throat. Literally, I couldn’t breathe. It felt as if the inside of my body was melting. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. I couldn’t even tell if Mallory was there or not. Street noises converged in to one long silence as I dropped to my knees…and collapsed onto the sidewalk.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Back From Black
Nash
“I personally think this song is shit,” Chaz stated in his usual dickish fashion.
“The lyrics are great. It’s the music that sucks ass,” I corrected.
“No, it’s pretty much the lyrics,” he argued. Once again the ass-head was trying to pick a fight.
Not in the mood for his bullshit, I asked, “Dude, what has crawled up your ass lately?”
He shot me a scathing look. “I wasn’t aware we were referring to my ass habits, but since you’re asking how I like it, I prefer inanimate objects over animate.”
“Joke all you want, but you’ve been acting like an exceptional tool lately. Grant’s lyrics are good and you know it. It’s like you’re intentionally trying to stir shit up. Either talk about what’s bothering you once and for all, or shut the hell up.”
Before Chaz had the chance to respond, Evan called down the stairs, “Nash! Your phone was ringing. It’s Grant. He says it’s an emergency!” My gaze collided with Chaz’s and for a slight second I could have sworn I saw worry in his eyes. The first thought that hit my brain was Rowan, and then I was running. Five seconds later I was in the kitchen with the phone in my hand.
“Grant?”
“You need to get to the hospital now. Something has happened to Rowan.” The panic in his voice made my gut twist.
“What happened? Is she alright?”
“We’re not sure. Just get to Seton Hospital as soon as you can.”
“Wait! At least tell me if she’s okay!”
“We don’t know. Hurry, man,” Grant urged, and hung up.
“Fuck!” I shouted.
“What?” Evan, Chaz, and Marcy all asked at the same time.
“Something’s happened to Rowan. She’s at Seton hospital.” I was so panicked that I was barely able to spit the words out.
Marcy held up her phone. “Got the address right here on my GPS. I’ll drive.” Five minutes later we were all in the car and speeding toward the hospital. The entire way there all kinds of crazy shit raced through my head. What in the hell happened? I knew it wasn’t a car wreck because Grant would have mentioned it. I pulled my phone from my pocket and tried to call Grant for more information, but he wouldn’t pick up. Evan tried to comfort me, but soon realized it was futile, and shut up. Chaz didn’t say a word. Smart man. Twenty of the longest minutes of my life later, Marcy pulled up in front of the Emergency Room entrance. I shot out of the car and raced for the door. Hank and Grant were already there, and stood when they saw me enter the building.
By that point I was in full on panic mode. “Where is she? What happened?” I asked.
“We’re not sure. The hospital isn’t talking to us because we’re not related to the patient,” Grant replied.
“Why the fuck not?” I shouted.
“Nash, you need to get a grip or they’re going to kick you out,” Hank calmly stated. Helpless rage washed through me. I’d just been here. Just done this. How in the hell was this happening again? I felt as if I was being given a karmic fuck you for no good reason at all.
“Someone had better tell me what the hell happened right this second or I’m going to completely lose my shit,” I warned. A hand gently touched my back, and I jerked around to see who had the nerve to fucking touch me. Mallory stood there with tears coursing down her fa
ce.
“I’m sorry, Nash.”
I pulled her into my arms, and she completely broke down. “I need to know what happened, Mal. Please, tell me what happened.”
“Sit,” Grant said. I didn’t want to sit, but I wanted to know what happened to Rowan, so I followed them over to the chairs and dropped into a seat beside Mallory.
“I keep going over it in my head. We were eating lunch and drinking champagne. It had to be an allergy or something in the food or the drink, but it doesn’t make any sense,” Mallory rambled.
“Mallory, Babe, you’re killing me here. What exactly happened?” I repeated for the third time.
She took a deep breath, and said, “Rowan was fine. I swear. We were laughing and having a great time. After I paid the tab, we headed for the front exit. Rowan was right behind me. Before we made it out the door I felt her hand brush against my back. There wasn’t enough room for me to turn around to see what she wanted, so I waited until we were outside on the sidewalk. The look on her face, Nash, it was like she couldn’t breathe. The moment I realized she was in trouble, I reached for her, but it was too late. S-She dropped to her knees…and collapsed onto the ground.” Mallory’s shoulders shook with her sobs. “I-I-I don’t know what h-h-happened. S-s-she wasn’t r-r-responding.”
My eyes clashed with Grant’s. “Did the paramedics say anything?”
“By the time Hank and I arrived, they’d already taken her.” Grant’s bleak response made the panic I’d felt earlier rear its ugly head.
“They thought it might be a food allergy. They kept asking me, b-b-ut I didn’t know if Rowan was allergic to anything. I’m so sorry,” Mallory cried.
“Hey,” I squeezed her arm. “I’m not mad at you. I promise.” Grant folded her into his arms. “Be right back,” I told them, and I went in search of the main desk.
It took me an hour-one full hour of pleading, arguing, and threatening – to finally extract information about Rowan from them. When I agreed to sign all of the admittance papers and be held legally responsible for Rowan’s hospital bills, they finally caved and sent a doctor out to speak with me. What he told me made my blood run cold.
Rowan had been poisoned.
“Poisoned? How?” I asked.
“It was ingested in either her food or her drink,” he explained. “The good news is that we got to her in enough time to pump her stomach and reverse the reaction. The bad news is that we won’t be sure of any long term damage until she wakes up and we can properly evaluate her.”
“Can I see her?”
“Tonight I’m placing her in the Intensive Care Unit. If she continues to improve, I will move her to a less intensive room tomorrow.”
“Can I stay with her?”
“I’m sorry. We don’t allow overnight guests in the ICU, but I will let you see her once we get her settled.” It took me a long moment to digest the doctor’s words. Someone had poisoned Rowan. The question was, who? Or better yet, why?
Everyone rushed over as I walked back into the waiting room.
“The press is here,” Grant warned. I glanced over his shoulder to the outside window, and was blinded by several camera flashes.
“Let’s go,” Hank said. We followed him down a long hallway to an interior waiting room with solid walls and no windows.
“Marcy is dealing with the press,” Grant informed me.
“What did the doctor say?” Mallory asked.
Like a bomb, I dropped the news that Rowan had been poisoned. The room was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.
“What kind of poison?” Chaz asked.
“All he said was that they got to her in enough time to pump her stomach and reverse most of the effects.”
“So, she’s okay?” Evan asked.
“They won’t know until she wakes up. They’re keeping her in the ICU for the night. If she’s doing better tomorrow the doctor said they’ll mover her out of the ICU and into a regular room.”
“Are they going to let you see her?” Mallory asked.
“As soon as she’s settled in ICU,” I replied.
“Not to point out the obvious, but Conor was poisoned,” Grant said.
Mallory turned to gawk at him. “I didn’t even think of that. You don’t think…”
I clenched my teeth to keep from screaming. No one had any fucking answers and it was driving me insane. “That’s just it. I don’t know what to think. Someone fucking poisoned her. Poison,” I hissed. “What if she saw something while that fucker had her? What if whoever killed Conor is now after her?”
“Did you see anything suspicious in the restaurant?” Chaz asked Mallory.
“No. Wait. There was something. While I was talking to Hank, someone bumped into Rowan and she knocked over her drink.” I tensed when she suddenly slapped her hands over her mouth and gasped.
“What?” I asked.
“Oh God. She drank my drink. What if the poison was meant for me?”
“I think we’re getting way ahead of ourselves,” Hank said. “The poison could easily have been in something she ate.”
“Any way you slice it, this is all kinds of fucked up. I’m calling Garrett,” Grant announced. He pulled his phone from his pocket, said something to Mallory, and stepped out of the room.
A few minutes later a nurse popped her head into the room. “Mr. Bostwick. My name is Beverly. I’m here to take you to Miss Burns.”
After saying goodbye, I followed the nurse up to the ICU. Finally, I was getting to see my girl.
At first glance at the woman lying in the hospital bed, I would have sworn that it wasn’t Rowan, but then I saw her beautiful face. She’d mentioned her hair appointment several times over the past few days, but never once had she talked about changing the color. Even though it was odd, Rowan’s hair wasn’t in the forefront of my mind. She’d been poisoned. Just when we’d begun to pick up the pieces and move on, someone was trying to take it all away. As I stared down at the face of the woman I loved more than anything in this world, I was bowled over by so many different emotions – love, anger, desperation, helplessness…fear. I lifted her hand and twined our fingers together. Other than the beep of her heart rate monitor, Rowan’s ventilator was the only noise in the room. It was silent, and yet deafening. Mallory’s words about Rowan not being able to breathe came back to me. If only I’d been there. Tears stung the backs of my eyes.
“Wake up, baby. Please, wake up,” I whispered over and over again, but she didn’t respond. Flashes of Rachel and my mother traipsed through my head, and I thought about my life before Rowan. How empty it had been. How lonely it would be if I lost her. Finally giving into the pain and fear, I lay my head on the side of Rowan’s bed, and cried.
* * *
Sixteen hours later…
One of Rowan’s nurses popped into the waiting room a little before seven a.m. this morning to explain that Rowan’s vitals had substantially improved overnight. They would be moving her out of the ICU and into a regular room later this morning. When asked, she explained that, no, Rowan still hadn’t woken up, but the doctor felt confident that it was only a matter of time. She then led me up to the room that Rowan would be occupying and told me I could wait for her to arrive. I immediately called Grant to give him an update and Rowan’s room number.
They wheeled Rowan’s bed in around nine. Grant and Mallory showed up around eleven with everyone in tow.
Rowan still hadn’t woken up.
While Mallory fiddled with Rowan’s blankets, Grant and Hank pulled me aside to talk about what had taken place at Grant’s house last night.
“Garrett arrives late this afternoon. He said he was going to reach out to his source to see if they’d heard anything,” Grant explained.
“In the meantime, the head of security here at the hospital is due to stick his head in any minute. I’m good to watch the door, but I thought you might feel better if we also had someone watching the hallway,” Hank added.
I clapped Hank on the b
ack. “Thanks man. Right now I can’t think straight.”
“You need to take a break. Have you slept at all?” Grant asked.
I ran my fingers through my hair, and sighed. “I dozed for a few minutes, but not really.”
“What the hell did she do to her hair?” I heard Chaz ask.
“I think it looks good like that,” Evan stated.
I noticed Mallory watching me, and gave her a questioning look. “Ummm, Rowan wanted to surprise you. This is actually her natural color,” she explained. “She died it black when she ran from Conor. She’s been toying with the idea of dying it back, but was worried you wouldn’t like it.” Rowan could die her hair purple for all I cared. I just wanted her to wake the fuck up.
“Come on. Hank and Mallory can watch Rowan. I’m taking you to the cafeteria for some coffee and a bagel,” Grant said.
“I’ll go with you,” Evan chimed in.
“Cafeteria food sucks,” Chaz griped. I didn’t want to leave Rowan in case she woke up, but I was running on empty. Coffee and food sounded good, even if it was from a hospital cafeteria.
“Go. We’ve got it,” Mallory urged.
I walked over to Rowan and stared down at her. Her hair color was growing on me. “Be right back,” I said, and placed a kiss on her lips…lips that were no longer covered by a breathing tube, thank God.
After a quick bagel and two cups of coffee, I was ready to get back to Rowan.
“Feeling any better?” Grant asked as we started back to the room.
“Actually, I do. I needed the caffeine. Did Garrett say when he would be here? I want to get his take on all of this.”
“He just said sometime late this afternoon,” Grant answered.
As we rounded the corner to Rowan’s hall I expected to see Hank in front of her door. That’s strange, I thought. Hank wasn’t there. In fact, no one was. As we neared Rowan’s room something violently slammed against her door.
“Fuck!” I shouted, and took off running. At first I couldn’t get the door to budge. It felt as if something heavy was blocking it.
“Help me!” I shouted to Grant and Evan. With the two of them behind me, the door swung open without any hesitation, and the three of us nearly busted our asses tripping over each other. Somehow, I managed to stay upright. When I saw what was in front of me, I froze. What the hell? Chaz was crawling across the floor with blood pouring from his nose and mouth.