Trouble
Page 41
“Sedated?” I frown. “Why?”
“Jordan, when Mia came around, she became quite upset. And through the stress of the situation, some other issues arose.” She stops talking as someone passes by.
“What other issues?” I press, wrapping my arms around my chest, trying to hold it together because I’m two seconds away from sprinting down this hall and searching every fucking room until I find her.
Dr. Packard draws her hands together in front of her. “Mia became extremely upset during examination, and due to the stress she was already under, and the dehydration combined, she suffered a seizure.”
“A seizure. Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” I close my eyes on a painful breath, my hands covering my face.
I feel my dad’s hand go to my back for support.
“Once we had the seizure under control, I felt it best to sedate Mia. Allow her body time to rest, and give us time to get her rehydrated intravenously as Mia was continually rejecting our efforts to help her while awake.”
Rejecting their help? She didn’t want to get better?
Her phone goes off in her pocket. “Excuse me.” She pulls out the phone, looking at. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” She begins backing away.
“When Mia’s awake—”
“I’ll come and tell you right away.” Then she’s gone.
I slump down in the nearest chair. Head in my hands.
Dad sits next to me. “She’ll be okay, son. We’ll help her. Whatever she needs.”
I lift my head a little, and look at him. “But what if she doesn’t want my help?”
He gives me a sad smile. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”
***
Dad and I spend the night here in the hospital waiting room. We hear nothing more, no matter how many times I check with the receptionist, the answer is always the same – no change yet – Mia is still sleeping.
So I spend most of my time running everything over and over in my mind. Trying to figure out how I missed it. Were there any signs?
But I come up dry.
In the end, I’m still no clearer on it all, so I give into sleep, stretching out across three seats, letting Dad have the bench. I close my eyes, and I’m out.
When I open them again, daylight is pouring in through the large windows, and a glance at the clock tells me it’s seven-thirty.
Dad is already awake, watching the news on the TV up on the wall, drinking more of that shit vending-machine coffee.
“How long you been awake?” I ask, sitting. I stretch my back out, and every bone in my body cracks.
“Not long.”
“Any news?”
“No. I got you a coffee. Might be a bit cold now.” He hands it to me.
“It’ll do. Thanks.” I take two large gulps of the luke warm coffee and put it on the table.
“I spoke to Paula, she’s on her way to the hotel now, she’ll see to Dozer.”
Thankfully the Perry’s left the other day, so there’s only Dozer that needs taking care of.
I get up to stretch my legs. “Thanks.”
The main doors whoosh open, throwing a cold blast of air through the room. It actually helps wake me up.
I see coming in through the doors, a guy about my age. I notice him because he’s clearly money. Walks with that air of arrogance that only pricks with money do. He strides over to the reception desk.
“I’m just gonna go take a piss,” I tell Dad.
I’m walking past the reception desk, heading for the bathroom, when I hear that money guy talking with the receptionist.
“… name is Forbes Chandler. I received a call last night telling me that my girlfriend Mia Monroe had been brought it. I want to know how she is, and when I can see her.”
Blood rushes straight to my head. I stop and turn back, slowly.
“Yes, of course,” the receptionist smiles. “Just let me check.”
She’s starts typing. Clicking on the keyboard.
He checks his watch.
That’s him. This blond, prissy ass motherfucker, is the one who hurt Mia.
Why is he here? Who called him? Did Mia ask for him – did she ask them to call him?
Pain lances through me, quickly morphing to rage and despair and frustration.
Forbes turns his head in my direction. He sees me staring.
My fists tighten at my sides.
He gives me an odd look, then looks away, but he knows I’m still staring at him, so he looks back.
“Can I help you?” he asks with a smug look on his fuck ugly face.
I take a step toward him. “You’re Forbes?”
“Yeah. I am. Who’s ask—?”
He never finishes that sentence.
Because I punch him in the face. Hard.
He goes down from that one hit. Pussy. But I’m not stopping there. I’m on him, on the ground, punching him repeatedly over and over, and I can’t fucking stop.
Because all I can see is Mia’s black eye.
Him trying to rape her.
Her forcing herself to be sick. Passed out on that bathroom floor.
Me loving her. Wanting her.
Just pain. Fucking pain.
It’s endless, relentless. And I just keep plowing my fist into his face, trying to rid myself of it.
I don’t know if I’d have ever stopped, or if I’d have kept going until I killed him, but I don’t get the chance to find out because I’m pulled off him by Dad and the hospital security staff.
It takes three of them to get me off him. That’s how far gone I am.
“What the fuck!” he splutters through the blood in his mouth. “Are you insane? You’ve broken my nose!”
“That’s the least of your worries,” I growl. “You go near Mia ever again, and I’ll fuckin’ kill you!”
He stills. Just a moment. Hands covering his bleeding nose, his eyes meet mine. Something in them moves. I don’t know what it is, but I sure as hell don’t like it.
Then his hand drops. And he smirks. “Mia’s suckered you in good and proper.” He lets out a clipped, bloody laugh. “She’s good at that … playing the victim. And I’ll take it from the look on your face that you’ve been fucking her. Sorry to tell you this, but you’re not the first, won’t be the last.”
“You’re a fuckin’ liar!” I launch myself at him again, but I’m still being held by Dad and the burly guards, so I get nowhere.
“Let. Me. Fucking. Go!” I yell, trying to fight them off me.
“Calm the hell down!” Dad hisses in my ear. “Keep going like this, and they’ll call the cops if they haven’t already. Then they’ll throw your ass in jail, and you won’t be able to help Mia from there.”
The instant his words hit, hearing her name in that context, I start to slow down. “Okay.” I’m breathing hard. “Okay … you can let me go. I won’t hit him again.” I pin him with my eyes. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Jordan,” Dad scolds.
“What in the world is going on here?” I turn my head to see Dr. Packard walking toward us. Her eyes flick to Forbes, then back to me. She does not look happy.
“Dr. Packard, this man just attacked this gentleman here for no good reason.” This comes from the receptionist, who is still looking a little shocked by the whole thing.
“No good reason my ass!” I yell. “This motherfucker is the reason Mia is in here!”
“I haven’t seen Mia in two weeks—”
“Yeah, and why is that?” I take a step toward him. Dad’s arm comes in front of me, stopping me.
“Jordan,” Dr. Packard says. “You assaulted this gentleman?”
I scoff at the term. “Yeah, and I’d do it again – with pleasure.”
She turns to Forbes. “Mr.…?”
“Chandler.” Blood is still running down his ugly face and onto his pristine hundred dollar shirt.
“Mr. Chandler, I’ll get a nurse to clean you up. Do you want us to call the police to report this attack?”
His eyes drift to me.
“Do it.” I step forward, pushing against Dad’s arm that’s still pinned across my chest. “I’ll happily do a stretch. And while I’m with the cops, I’ll tell them exactly what you did to Mia.”
His eyes flash with fear.
Yeah, I know what you did, motherfucker.
“No.” He clears his throat, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I don’t want to press charges. I don’t need the hassle. Just keep that psycho away from me.”
“Nurse Callaghan, can you tend to Mr. Chandler, please,” Dr. Packard calls to a nurse.
“Of course.” The nurse comes over and leads him off down the hall.
I keep my eyes pinned to his back the whole way.
Dr. Packard stands in front of me, blocking my view. “I don’t know what that was about,” she says in a lowered voice. “But if you ever behave that way in my hospital again, I’ll call the cops myself, and you’ll never get through the door again. Do you understand?”
I exhale. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Good. Because Mia is awake, and she’s asking to see you.”
My head snaps up.
“She is?”
“Yes, so you best come with me now.” She starts to walk away.
I look at Dad.
“I’ll wait out here,” he says.
I mouth thanks to him. He gives me an encouraging smile.
I catch up to Dr. Packard. “How is she doing?”
She looks across at me. “Better. She’s been talking.”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “That’s good.”
“Yes, it is. Funny thing though, when I said to Mia that her step-brother was waiting to see her, she told me she doesn’t have a step-brother. That she doesn’t have any family actually.” She slides a look at me.
I smile sheepishly. “It’s complicated.” I shrug.
“Life always is.” She stops near a door. “Mia’s in here. Now, Jordan, I’ve spoken at length with Mia regarding the concerns I have about her problem, and I feel it’s best if you don’t mention anything.”
“You mean don’t tell her I know about the bulimia.”
“Exactly. Let her tell you – I’m sure she will. She’s very aware of her problem, but she’s also had a massive shock to bring about this realization. It’s an upsetting subject for her. I don’t want her upset any more than she already has been.”
I nod. “I hear you, doc. I’ll do whatever it takes to help her.”
She smiles. “Yes, I can see that.”
I turn to the door.
“Jordan.”
I look over my shoulder at her.
“You might want to clean the blood off your hands before you go in.”
I glance down at my hands. I’ve got that fuckers blood all over them. “Shit, yeah.”
She pulls a handkerchief from her pocket, then walks over to the water dispenser a little farther down the hall. Pressing the tap, she wets the handkerchief underneath, then brings back to me.
“Thanks.” Taking it, I scrub the blood from my knuckles, then offer it back to her.
“Jordan, when Mia came around, she became quite upset. And through the stress of the situation, some other issues arose.” She stops talking as someone passes by.
“What other issues?” I press, wrapping my arms around my chest, trying to hold it together because I’m two seconds away from sprinting down this hall and searching every fucking room until I find her.
Dr. Packard draws her hands together in front of her. “Mia became extremely upset during examination, and due to the stress she was already under, and the dehydration combined, she suffered a seizure.”
“A seizure. Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” I close my eyes on a painful breath, my hands covering my face.
I feel my dad’s hand go to my back for support.
“Once we had the seizure under control, I felt it best to sedate Mia. Allow her body time to rest, and give us time to get her rehydrated intravenously as Mia was continually rejecting our efforts to help her while awake.”
Rejecting their help? She didn’t want to get better?
Her phone goes off in her pocket. “Excuse me.” She pulls out the phone, looking at. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” She begins backing away.
“When Mia’s awake—”
“I’ll come and tell you right away.” Then she’s gone.
I slump down in the nearest chair. Head in my hands.
Dad sits next to me. “She’ll be okay, son. We’ll help her. Whatever she needs.”
I lift my head a little, and look at him. “But what if she doesn’t want my help?”
He gives me a sad smile. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”
***
Dad and I spend the night here in the hospital waiting room. We hear nothing more, no matter how many times I check with the receptionist, the answer is always the same – no change yet – Mia is still sleeping.
So I spend most of my time running everything over and over in my mind. Trying to figure out how I missed it. Were there any signs?
But I come up dry.
In the end, I’m still no clearer on it all, so I give into sleep, stretching out across three seats, letting Dad have the bench. I close my eyes, and I’m out.
When I open them again, daylight is pouring in through the large windows, and a glance at the clock tells me it’s seven-thirty.
Dad is already awake, watching the news on the TV up on the wall, drinking more of that shit vending-machine coffee.
“How long you been awake?” I ask, sitting. I stretch my back out, and every bone in my body cracks.
“Not long.”
“Any news?”
“No. I got you a coffee. Might be a bit cold now.” He hands it to me.
“It’ll do. Thanks.” I take two large gulps of the luke warm coffee and put it on the table.
“I spoke to Paula, she’s on her way to the hotel now, she’ll see to Dozer.”
Thankfully the Perry’s left the other day, so there’s only Dozer that needs taking care of.
I get up to stretch my legs. “Thanks.”
The main doors whoosh open, throwing a cold blast of air through the room. It actually helps wake me up.
I see coming in through the doors, a guy about my age. I notice him because he’s clearly money. Walks with that air of arrogance that only pricks with money do. He strides over to the reception desk.
“I’m just gonna go take a piss,” I tell Dad.
I’m walking past the reception desk, heading for the bathroom, when I hear that money guy talking with the receptionist.
“… name is Forbes Chandler. I received a call last night telling me that my girlfriend Mia Monroe had been brought it. I want to know how she is, and when I can see her.”
Blood rushes straight to my head. I stop and turn back, slowly.
“Yes, of course,” the receptionist smiles. “Just let me check.”
She’s starts typing. Clicking on the keyboard.
He checks his watch.
That’s him. This blond, prissy ass motherfucker, is the one who hurt Mia.
Why is he here? Who called him? Did Mia ask for him – did she ask them to call him?
Pain lances through me, quickly morphing to rage and despair and frustration.
Forbes turns his head in my direction. He sees me staring.
My fists tighten at my sides.
He gives me an odd look, then looks away, but he knows I’m still staring at him, so he looks back.
“Can I help you?” he asks with a smug look on his fuck ugly face.
I take a step toward him. “You’re Forbes?”
“Yeah. I am. Who’s ask—?”
He never finishes that sentence.
Because I punch him in the face. Hard.
He goes down from that one hit. Pussy. But I’m not stopping there. I’m on him, on the ground, punching him repeatedly over and over, and I can’t fucking stop.
Because all I can see is Mia’s black eye.
Him trying to rape her.
Her forcing herself to be sick. Passed out on that bathroom floor.
Me loving her. Wanting her.
Just pain. Fucking pain.
It’s endless, relentless. And I just keep plowing my fist into his face, trying to rid myself of it.
I don’t know if I’d have ever stopped, or if I’d have kept going until I killed him, but I don’t get the chance to find out because I’m pulled off him by Dad and the hospital security staff.
It takes three of them to get me off him. That’s how far gone I am.
“What the fuck!” he splutters through the blood in his mouth. “Are you insane? You’ve broken my nose!”
“That’s the least of your worries,” I growl. “You go near Mia ever again, and I’ll fuckin’ kill you!”
He stills. Just a moment. Hands covering his bleeding nose, his eyes meet mine. Something in them moves. I don’t know what it is, but I sure as hell don’t like it.
Then his hand drops. And he smirks. “Mia’s suckered you in good and proper.” He lets out a clipped, bloody laugh. “She’s good at that … playing the victim. And I’ll take it from the look on your face that you’ve been fucking her. Sorry to tell you this, but you’re not the first, won’t be the last.”
“You’re a fuckin’ liar!” I launch myself at him again, but I’m still being held by Dad and the burly guards, so I get nowhere.
“Let. Me. Fucking. Go!” I yell, trying to fight them off me.
“Calm the hell down!” Dad hisses in my ear. “Keep going like this, and they’ll call the cops if they haven’t already. Then they’ll throw your ass in jail, and you won’t be able to help Mia from there.”
The instant his words hit, hearing her name in that context, I start to slow down. “Okay.” I’m breathing hard. “Okay … you can let me go. I won’t hit him again.” I pin him with my eyes. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Jordan,” Dad scolds.
“What in the world is going on here?” I turn my head to see Dr. Packard walking toward us. Her eyes flick to Forbes, then back to me. She does not look happy.
“Dr. Packard, this man just attacked this gentleman here for no good reason.” This comes from the receptionist, who is still looking a little shocked by the whole thing.
“No good reason my ass!” I yell. “This motherfucker is the reason Mia is in here!”
“I haven’t seen Mia in two weeks—”
“Yeah, and why is that?” I take a step toward him. Dad’s arm comes in front of me, stopping me.
“Jordan,” Dr. Packard says. “You assaulted this gentleman?”
I scoff at the term. “Yeah, and I’d do it again – with pleasure.”
She turns to Forbes. “Mr.…?”
“Chandler.” Blood is still running down his ugly face and onto his pristine hundred dollar shirt.
“Mr. Chandler, I’ll get a nurse to clean you up. Do you want us to call the police to report this attack?”
His eyes drift to me.
“Do it.” I step forward, pushing against Dad’s arm that’s still pinned across my chest. “I’ll happily do a stretch. And while I’m with the cops, I’ll tell them exactly what you did to Mia.”
His eyes flash with fear.
Yeah, I know what you did, motherfucker.
“No.” He clears his throat, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I don’t want to press charges. I don’t need the hassle. Just keep that psycho away from me.”
“Nurse Callaghan, can you tend to Mr. Chandler, please,” Dr. Packard calls to a nurse.
“Of course.” The nurse comes over and leads him off down the hall.
I keep my eyes pinned to his back the whole way.
Dr. Packard stands in front of me, blocking my view. “I don’t know what that was about,” she says in a lowered voice. “But if you ever behave that way in my hospital again, I’ll call the cops myself, and you’ll never get through the door again. Do you understand?”
I exhale. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Good. Because Mia is awake, and she’s asking to see you.”
My head snaps up.
“She is?”
“Yes, so you best come with me now.” She starts to walk away.
I look at Dad.
“I’ll wait out here,” he says.
I mouth thanks to him. He gives me an encouraging smile.
I catch up to Dr. Packard. “How is she doing?”
She looks across at me. “Better. She’s been talking.”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “That’s good.”
“Yes, it is. Funny thing though, when I said to Mia that her step-brother was waiting to see her, she told me she doesn’t have a step-brother. That she doesn’t have any family actually.” She slides a look at me.
I smile sheepishly. “It’s complicated.” I shrug.
“Life always is.” She stops near a door. “Mia’s in here. Now, Jordan, I’ve spoken at length with Mia regarding the concerns I have about her problem, and I feel it’s best if you don’t mention anything.”
“You mean don’t tell her I know about the bulimia.”
“Exactly. Let her tell you – I’m sure she will. She’s very aware of her problem, but she’s also had a massive shock to bring about this realization. It’s an upsetting subject for her. I don’t want her upset any more than she already has been.”
I nod. “I hear you, doc. I’ll do whatever it takes to help her.”
She smiles. “Yes, I can see that.”
I turn to the door.
“Jordan.”
I look over my shoulder at her.
“You might want to clean the blood off your hands before you go in.”
I glance down at my hands. I’ve got that fuckers blood all over them. “Shit, yeah.”
She pulls a handkerchief from her pocket, then walks over to the water dispenser a little farther down the hall. Pressing the tap, she wets the handkerchief underneath, then brings back to me.
“Thanks.” Taking it, I scrub the blood from my knuckles, then offer it back to her.
