by Xavier Neal
Innocently he grunts, “What?”
“You know what Phillip.”
I slip out of the kitchen and upstairs to our bedroom. The moment I open the door, I'm surprised to see it empty but immediately relieved when I noticed the bathroom door shut with the light on.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I shut my eyes and quietly replay the things I wanna ask her. The things I need to know before turning my back on everything I've ever known.
She opens the door and lets out a small squeak at the sight of me. “What the hell are you doing up here?”
“I came to check on you, Sugar.”
“I'm fine,” her voice quivers, shutting the door behind her. “Just...needed some air.”
Quietly I watch as she begins putting away her clothes I don't remember being so spread out before. “About what Pop said-”
“You told him yes.”
“I haven't told him anything.”
“Then go downstairs and tell him yes,” she whispers, her attention down at her suitcase. “You know you want to.”
“Rory-”
“No,” the sigh that leaves her is painful to hear. “It's so obvious you belong here, Hunter. This is home. This is what makes you happy. You love it here-”
“I love you-”
“But I'm never gonna be a part of all this.” She tosses her hands in the air. “This isn't me. I love the city through and through. That's what I need.”
“Then that's where I'll go.”
“No,” she snaps and stands to her feet. “You do what makes you happy! I'm not going to be the thing you regret when you end up on someone else's table!” Rory marches back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
I run a frustrated hand through my hair and call to her, “But you make me happy, Sugar.”
“Love isn't a permanent feeling,” she argues back. “It's fleeting like adrenaline. It feels great now, but when it wears off, regret is what lingers. Regret for not taking the chances you really wanted to take. Regret for not having done the things you wanted most in life. Regret for wasting time with the wrong....with the wrong...” Her voice wavers. “People.”
“Rory-”
“Please, just go...”
“Rory-”
“Let me know if I need to find another way back home.”
Firmly I state, “Sugar, I'm takin' us home.”
There's a long pause before she quietly says, “Cowboy....you are home.”
Another wave of frustration and outrage kick me in the ass. Now in desperate need of air myself, I storm out, head back downstairs, and out the front door.
She can't possibly mean what she said. She's just....I don't know...feeling a little out of place? Irritated she doesn't know shit about these people? This family? Maybe being surrounded by the family environment is kicking up more bad memories? Whatever the hell is going on, this argument is far from over. She's gotta come out of the bathroom sometime and it's an eight hour drive back home. Home...that fucking word. I don't even know where to call that anymore. I'm here and it feels like home. I'm back in the city and it feels like home. The Castle feels like home. My penthouse feels like home. Rory....Rory is home. Hell, why can't she see that?
Wandering into the stable, having decided on a ride to clear my head, I'm a bit startled by Sam already there. While his back is to me, the object in his hand is visible.
No....not now...
“What the hell are you doin'?” I snap, pushing his shoulder around before the needle can go in. “Have you los' your damn mind?”
“What do you care?” He rolls his eyes and prepares to put the needle back to the area he's roped off. “Don't you have paperwork to be signin' and a girlfriend to be proposin' to? You know a picture perfect life to be livin'?”
Ignoring the remark, I make a lunge for the needle, but Sam shuffles out of the way just in time.
“Put it down,” I demand and make another swipe for it. “I mean it, Sam. Put it down.”
“Why?” He shrugs successfully maneuvering out of any potential grab I attempt. “Why do you care so fuckin' much when no one else does?”
The question bogs me in my tracks. “What the hell are you talkin' 'bout? You're my goddamn brother, that's why I care. And Mama and Pop care-”
“Not like they do about you,” he sneers. “Their perfect precious heir to the Montgomery throne. Jus' fuckin' one time I wish you knew what it was like to be me. To hate your own skin. To need jus' one chance to make 'em proud. To make 'em forget that you've made mistakes. To have 'em believe you really are fuckin' tryin' with everything you've got.”
His ceased movement causes me to swipe for the needle again. This time it flies from his hands. Immediately he lunges for it. In a prompt motion, I tackle him and drag him by the foot away from the dangerous object. He wiggles his thin frame underneath me, fighting with everything he's got.
Sam used to be the same size as me just a couple years back. I wondered what was happenin' to him and now I know. The Queen was righ' when she said I didn't really get how bad this had gotten.
The scuffle continues viciously. After numerous tries, he lands a good shot knocking me away and gaining enough ground to grab the gateway to his addiction. With it in his grasps, my determination to stop him becomes harsher, and the brawl turns slightly more violent. Sam throws punches, cusses, and spits fiercely in my face. While I block several of the hits initially refusing to swing back, his rage becomes so out of control I have no choice but to defend myself. The two of us roll around exchanging sharp blows until I unexpectedly can't seem to hold my eyes open any longer.
What was that small prick I felt a couple minutes ago?
Rory
I hate hospitals. The smells. The noises. The people. Everything about them is like looking all the possibilities of death and very rarely the possibility of life. I can see the look you're giving right now, but what I do is different. Everyone's already gone. I'm not surrounded by them on the brink of crossing over, the threshold of them letting go. The literal life and death decisions. No. By the time I get them on my table, they've made their peace. They've said their goodbyes. Hospitals are hell's waiting room and after spending a week of my life as a child at my mother's bedside I swore I never would again.
“He's fine,” Hunter's mother assures his father from the chair beside me. “The doctor said they flushed his system. His vitals just need a chance to stabilize. That's all.”
“Why haven't they yet?” He snaps at her. “He's been here hours, Lily.”
In a calm voice she says, “Things take time.”
“Something's gotta be wrong,” his father's repeated worry tenses my body further.
Feels like I haven't been able to breathe since I got here. Feels like I'm eight years old just waiting for my grandfather to come out of the room and repeat to me I can go in, but can't touch her. Can't disturb her. Don't even stare at her for too long.
The memories shut my eyes tightly.
“Pop-”
“Don't you dare say a word to me boy,” he barks at Sam, shifting my eyes back open.
Looking at Hunter's family there is no mystery where his looks come from. Or his accent. Or even his attitude.
“How could you do this to your own brother?”
“It was an accident Pop-”
“Accident my ass,” he growls. “As soon as Hunter wakes up and I know everything is fine, I'll deal with you. This is the las' goddamn straw.” There's a short pause before he adds, “I'm so sick and tired of your bullshit ruinin' this family.”
“Not now,” Lily hisses sharply.
“Then when?” Her husband argues. “First it was stealin' boots from the Browns. Then it was sneakin' out past curfew. Then came the drunk drivin', the partyin'-”
“Hunter did all that shit too, Pop!”
“The possible rapin'-”
“I didn't rape that girl, Pop. Hunter did rape Hope and I damn sure didn't rape CeCe.”
“Hunte
r was found provin' innocent in a court of law.”
The comment trembles Sam's jaw.
I continue to watch in sheer silence.
“And now....now it's fuckin' drugs.”
“Language-”
“Damn it, Lily!” He bites back. “I'm a grown man.”
“In a public area. Show some respect. Hats and language. You know that.” Sam stands and prepares to walk away, which is what prompts his mother to question, “Excuse me young man, where do you think you're goin'?”
“Anywhere away from here.”
“Sit.” When he doesn't do as she says she repeats, “Sit. Sit before I bend you over my knee in the middle of this hospital and make those whippins you got as a boy look like love taps Samuel Phillip Montgomery.”
Desperate for a change in subject, I ask, “What's Hunter's middle name?”
His mother's light brown eyes fall to me. “Oh honey, Hunter is his middle name.”
“Phillip is his real name,” her husband adds, leaning forward on his knees. “Like mine.”
“Wait. His real name's Phillip?”
“Look at that. Prince perfect kept a secret from his girlfriend,” Sam sneers. “Guess he's not so perfect after all.”
I don't even know his real name....How did I let myself get this tangled up and exposed to someone whose real name I don't even know?! Oh! And add the fact according to the test I took I’m knocked up too! What the hell is wrong with me? It's bad enough he's been hiding his true happiness in an attempt to let me keep mine. He didn't have to hide his name too.
The walls of the waiting room feel like they're beginning to compress. Quickly I'm on my feet and dismissing myself, “I need some air.”
From behind me I hear Phillip snap, “What's the matter with you? Can't you let anyone be happy?”
Outside of the building, I take a deep breath, and drink in the sounds of the busy city.
Major draw-back of living in a small town you own, no major hospital. Thankfully, the next city over, the one he used to go to school in, has one just a few minutes away from the mansion if you can call their monster home that. And when I say it's only a few minutes I mean, it's only a few minutes if you're doing over a hundred to make sure your youngest son doesn't die.
My back hits the brick from the gust of unexpected cool air.
Look at this....this is beautiful to me. The street lights. The skyscrapers trying to touch heaven in the distance. The honking of traffic horns. It's all so real. This is what home feels like. A home....a home I'd give up for him if he asked me too. I swore I'd never do anything like that. I'd never be that person, but what else am I supposed to do? What if the pregnancy test is right? And what if he wants to keep this baby? Shouldn't it be my turn to hide a bit of my happiness so he can have his? Doesn't he deserve that? Should I do that to make this whole love thing more permanent? Is that what someone in a relationship does? Fuck. See why I hate relationships even more than I did before?
“Hon,” his mother's voice interrupts the hormonal chaos that is my brain. “You wanna talk about what's botherin' ya?”
I fold my arms firmly across my pink sweater covered chest.
Hunter says he loves me in this color. He says he loves a lot of things about me. Can't help but wonder if the love of me outweighs the love of his family. I honestly hope it doesn't. They deserve their son back even if it means I have to give him up.
“He'll come around,” she assures. “This is just him and his ways. He's always done things when he felt like it.”
I try to smile.
“Potty train'n was a disaster.” The memory makes me snicker. “I tell you what, that boy was peein' for nobody. Not superhero underwear, not candy, not even a new toy. Stubborn as a goddamn mule.”
A hand flies over my mouth to catch my laugh.
“But that's Hunter. He's never been much for compromise. A skill I always hoped he'd learn over time....” Suddenly there's a somber look in her eyes. “But I'm not sure he has. At least not enough.”
I swallow the swelling lump in my throat.
“It was a skill his father had to learn the hard way too. Wedged him between a rock and a hard place before he realized it doesn't have to be all or nothin'. Sometimes, sometimes you can have a bit of both.” She wraps a sympathetic arm around my shoulder. “I know sometimes it's hard to take a huge leap when you're afraid you're gonna fall. The thing to remember hon, isn't what if you fall...it's what if you fly? You understand?”
The cryptic advice burrows in my brain with a refusal to go without thoroughly being examined.
Is there any way possible for us both to get what we need without one person having to live with a lifetime of regret? Is there any way to keep this relationship so we're both truly happy? How the hell does the country boy and city girl thing actually work outside of fairy tales?
Hunter
I move my head back and forth, the crick in it painful.
Hate sleepin' in my old bed for this reason. I can't wait to get back to the one in my penthouse. Hell even Rory's tiny contraption doesn't give my head this problem.
“There's my son,” Pop's voice floods my ears.
Slightly confused I sit up, shock about my surroundings kicking in instantly. The sight of the machines and the hospital dry erase wall with the name of the nurse on duty causes me to frown.
“You're alrigh',” he assures and crosses over to the edge of the bed. “Doc' said the amount was enough to overdose, but they flushed your system, and got you as stable as they could. Said you had to come out of the last bit on your own.”
What the fuck is he talking about?
“What?” My tone is hoarse. “What out of my system?”
“Your brother's fuckin' drugs,” he harshly growls.
The brotherly brawl between the two of us reappears in broken flashes.
Hell, at least I'm alive.
“And I swear I'll have his ass for this.”
“It was an accident,” Sam's voice states from the other side of the room where he's entering. “I would never hurt Hunter on purpose.”
“Then what are his bruised ribs?”
“Proof he still hits like a girl,” I chuckle and lean back against my pillows.
His scuffed up face tries to smile. “You okay?”
“Relatively speakin'.”
“I swear it was an accident-”
Pop snaps, “And I don't believe you! You're a goddamn thief! And a liar! And a drug user! And-”
“Enough!” My voice booms through the pain. “Enough, Pop.”
Sam's eyes widen is surprise.
“No wonder Sam doesn't think you fuckin' care about him. When's the last time you said somethin' nice to him?”
He huffs, “When was the last time he did something nice worth mentionin'?”
“When was the last time you gave me a chance to?”
The tension between them causes my head to throb even more.
“Might wanna ease up on the heavy topics for a tiny bit longer,” a nurse coos strolling in. Her eyes fall on me as she introduces herself, “I'm Maggie, your attending nurse. How you feelin', Mr. Montgomery?”
“Tired.” I give her a small shrug. “Head hurts.”
“It's probably going to for a bit. I'll grab the doctor to give you more information, but I hope you know you're lucky to have arrived when you did. The potency and amount you took was enough to kill you.”
My eyes glance at Sam.
Is that what he wanted? To kill himself? To end his own life rather than live another day feeling as depressed as he was describin'?
She fiddles with something while I keep my eyes glued to his. When she's finished she announces, “The doctor will be in shortly.”
As soon as she's shut the door behind her, I ask, “Was that the plan, Sam? Kill yourself with an OD on fuckin' Christmas?”
His eyes fall down.
All of a sudden Pop's questions in shaky tone, “Why on earth would you ever wanna kil
l yourself, Samuel?”
He drags his eyes over to him. “Why the hell not? I'm already the mistake of this family. Why not just erase myself?”
The sight of my father's jaw on the ground hurts as much as the words coming out of my brother.
There's a sharp knock on the door before an older gentleman with salt and pepper colored hair enters. “I'm Dr. Woodhouse, Mr. Montgomery.”
