Manipulated

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Manipulated Page 17

by Kimberly Montague


  I groaned when he picked me up in his arms, everything hurt.

  "I know, sunshine. Don't worry, Grams'll make you better." He kissed my forehead.

  I was surprised at how comforted I was to be in his bed, surrounded by everything that smelled like Brodie. It actually soothed me a little. His grandma came in with a gray toolbox and set it on the long, low cabinet next to one side of the bed. She took my blood pressure, shoved a thermometer in my mouth, and shined a light down my throat. After pouring some syrupy, red liquid into a small, clear cup, she brought it to my side.

  "It's for the fever and your sore throat," she explained.

  Brodie helped me sit up, and I managed to swallow the vile liquid as well as another sip of the sports drink. When I was lying back again, Brodie started to move away from me, but I grabbed for his hand. I didn't want to need him, but the thought of him leaving me made me want to cry and cry.

  He kneeled beside the bed and brushed the hair from my face. "The black hair was cute, but this is so you, sunshine. You're so beautiful." His hand touched my cheek, and I closed my eyes at the feel of his strength. "What the fuck is that?"

  My eyes opened wide as Brodie pointed to my upper arm.

  "Move," his grandma commanded as she kneeled beside the bed, turning my arm a little. "Shit."

  I flinched. She didn't seem the type to cuss. It was a little frightening. It was more unsettling when she sat back on her heels, looking defeated.

  "She gave blood, didn't she?"

  "Yeah." He shrugged like it was a foregone conclusion. "So did I? Why?"

  Her eyes were immediately angry and aimed at Brodie like fully loaded canons. "I specifically told you not to."

  He waved off her anger. "Since when do I listen? What's the big deal?"

  She covered her face with her hands and shook her head. Even Brodie looked concerned as she got up and walked to the balcony. I pulled my arm to me as best I could to see what they were looking at and found an ugly green circle around the point where they'd given me the Setenid Blight vaccine. It looked like someone took a forest green marker and drew a misshapen circle on me. It was like three inches in diameter, and the realization that there was something in my body that made the disgusting green mark had me looking up at Brodie with a whole lot of fear.

  He shook his head. "They said it might make us sick for a while. I'm sure that's all this is."

  I tried to believe him, but I felt more than a little sick. I'd always been relatively healthy, so it was easy to identify this as the absolute worst I'd felt in my whole life. That along with his grandma's reaction told me this wasn't so simple.

  She finally came back into the room and looked at Brodie. "You both got the vaccine?" At our nods, she went on. "Call her dad and get him over here."

  "Grams, is this--What's—"

  "I don't know much. I really don't. These cases have been popping up for a couple weeks now. It's always the same—high school students who got the vaccine. CDC says it's nothing to worry about, just a side effect, but we noticed some…" She studied me for a minute then turned to Brodie. "Honey, I really need her dad here, right now."

  Brodie pulled my cell phone from his pocket. I shoved myself over enough to make room for him on the bed next to me and pulled on his hand until he sat down. I hated the idea that they were calling Dad. He didn't care—no, that was the old Dad, or the Dad that Mom made up? My head hurt too bad to make any sense. Brodie put the phone to his ear, and I focused on the feeling of Brodie running his fingers through my hair.

  "No sir, it's Brodie… Risa's really sick, Scott. My grandma's a nurse in the ER at University Hospital, so I brought her to my house for her to take a look at her. She'd like you to come over here as soon as you can… She has a high fever and a sore throat—" Brodie watched his grandma walk to him and put her hand out. "Uh, she'd like to talk to you. Here she is."

  "Mr.—I'm sorry, I don't even know your daughter's last name…" She walked quickly out of the room, closing the door behind her.

  I turned to Brodie, feeling panicked.

  "I don't know what's going on either, baby, but we'll figure it out. It'll be okay. We're in this together right? And Sammy, I gotta get Sammy here."

  He stood up to dig his cell phone out of his pocket. I watched him go to the text message screen and type out, Get over here as soon as you can, and bring your shit. Might be here a while.

  The pain in my throat was easing up a bit, making it less painful to swallow. "Will I be staying a while?" I asked slowly.

  He scooted down until he was spread out next to me. He brushed his knuckles against my cheek, and I could feel the scabs on them from his fight with Charlie the night before.

  "I meant it, you know. I won't let you go, sunshine. You're staying a while. You're staying indefinitely." He very gently brushed his lips against mine and ran his hand down the side of my body, pausing at the hem of my dress. "You're so damn sexy in this dress. It makes me want to lift it up over your head and—"

  "Broderick Winston Decker, get your idiotic hands off that child!"

  I was smiling weakly from his previous words, but his grandma's yelling just made me smile more. He moved his hand from my thigh back up to tangle in my hair, but that was the only indication he gave that he'd even heard her.

  "I swear you are gonna put me in an early grave. Her father will be here any minute, and you're groping her. I don't need to treat your wounds when he tries to kill you. I'm busy enough keeping your girl here from winding up in the hospital." She stepped farther into the room and smacked his foot. She looked deadly serious as her laser-beam–like stare focused on Brodie. "If you want to keep seeing her, she can't go to the hospital."

  Her stare must have meant something to Brodie because he sat up abruptly. "What do you mean, Grams?"

  She threw her arms up. "Damn it, Brodie. Why couldn't you just listen to me? For once in your moronic life, why couldn't you just do what I asked?"

  "What the hell is going on, Grams?"

  The doorbell rang, and she held up her index finger before leaving the room.

  Did That Hurt?

  Brodie's cell phone vibrated on the bed next to me, and I reached for it. Sammy replied, Balcony or door? I shoved the phone at Brodie, and he went to the balcony. A minute later, Sammy was climbing up the trellis, a duffel bag on his back.

  Sammy's smile fell completely when he saw me. He came to sit on the bed next to me. "Hey, you don't look too good. Is this the reaction to the vaccine?"

  I pulled my arm up, wincing at the pain from using the muscles around the injection location.

  Sammy took one look at it, and his eyes widened, fearfully. "What the hell is that? Are you allergic to it or something?" I shrugged and he patted my arm. "Grams'll fix you up, I'm sure."

  "You're in my seat, and get your hands off my girl," Brodie said seriously as he glared down at Sammy.

  "I don't see your name on it or her. You're just hanging out, remember?"

  Brodie smiled that lopsided grin. "She's my—"

  Dad and Brodie's grandma came into the room. Dad's eyes were shocked as they fell on my hair then he glared as his eyes fell on Sammy next to me.

  Brodie cleared his throat and put his hand on Sammy's shoulder. "Move away from my—my girlfriend."

  Sammy stared at him a moment then started chuckling as he got up. Brodie's grandma looked stunned, and Dad started smiling and looking proud.

  Brodie's possessiveness made me wish for the strength to kick him. I looked up at him and spoke as loud as I could without causing too much pain. "Did that hurt? Need some water—to swallow that down?"

  Grams' loud, rolling laughter made me smile because it matched Brodie's and because she obviously knew what I'd meant by my comment. Sammy got up so that Brodie could sit next to me again. He brought the cup with the sports drink with him and helped me take a few sips. Dad stared at me for several minutes as Grams calmed down and brought the thermometer back over. She looked serious as she r
ead the temperature, but didn't say anything. I had to be dying. It was the only explanation for the intense look on everyone's faces.

  Dad sat on the end of the bed and patted my calf. "You look like my little girl again. What made you get rid of the black?"

  I swallowed hard and thought about a flippant answer, but I was tired. And the worry on his face made me blurt out the truth. "Want 'em to know they didn't break me."

  He closed his eyes and nodded sadly, but was smiling proudly at me a moment later. He turned to Brodie's grandma. "Have you told them yet?"

  She shook her head and looked to Brodie. "I don't know anything for sure except that you can't go to the hospital. Every kid brought in has been pulled out by the CDC. It's incredibly suspicious, and we've been talking about it for weeks in the ER, but we have no control. They come in with a high fever, sore throat, and the same green discoloration around the injection site. Symptoms improve with Acetaminophen, but before we can release them, CDC shows up and takes them off. We've been told they're taken to a quarantine facility for further monitoring, but when we try to follow-up, we're denied access to their records or any information about their progress."

  "Why are they still giving the vaccine if they've had so many bad reactions?" Brodie asked.

  She shook her head and sounded very angry. "I have no idea."

  Sammy flopped down onto a bean bag chair. "Grams, why aren't we sick like Risa?"

  She patted his head. "It seems to be hitting the girls faster, likely due to size and percentage of body fat. It might hit you guys tonight or early tomorrow. I want you both drinking lots of fluids."

  Sammy looked over at Brodie. "I'm thinking Tequila's a good fluid right about now."

  Grams' sudden switch from patting his head affectionately to smacking him hard in the back of his head almost made me smile.

  Sammy's hand flew to the back of his head. "Ow, what? I was just kidding, Grams. Geez, you're gonna do permanent damage someday."

  She glared down at him. "Oh I'll do some permanent damage alright. Go get the sheets, and set yourself up on the futon in the den." She turned back to Dad. "I wish I had more information or better information. I have a pile of sick days banked. I can't think of a better reason to use them. If you'd like me to watch Risa, she's welcome to stay here. I'm worried that she's more sensitive to this vaccine than the average patient, and I'm not happy about this fever. At the very least, I'd like her to stay the night."

  Dad turned to Brodie and arched his eyebrow. "Boyfriend—you serious about that?"

  Brodie did look really serious. He hardly blinked as he stared back at Dad. "Yes, sir, and I'm serious about taking care of her." He looked back down at me, but his eyes were softer—not less serious, just more affectionate. "If she'll let me."

  He seriously wanted to be my boyfriend. I wasn't sure I could get my brain to soak that in with the fever muffling everything, but when I closed my eyes and thought about the one thing that would make me feel a little better, it was curling up in his arms. I put my hand up to him, and he threaded his fingers firmly through mine.

  Grams looked like someone just told her Santa had been elected President of the United States. "Now I need the Tequila, and she needs rest. Scott, can I get you a stiff drink?"

  Dad patted my calf. "I'll bring you some things and your charger. If you need me, I can be here in just three minutes."

  I gave him a tiny smile—all I was capable of. "I'll be okay."

  "I can text you with updates if you want," Brodie offered.

  Dad nodded. "I'd appreciate it."

  "Brodie, I want her resting," Grams called from the doorway. "Come on and leave her alone."

  Brodie spread out next to me again, pulling me into his arms. "She's slept in my arms before, Grams. I'm not leaving her."

  I closed my eyes, but Grams' disbelief floated to me. "It's like a completely different child. I wonder if he'll do his homework now, too."

  I felt the quick movements of Brodie's chuckle and the warmth in his voice. "Don't count on it."

  I wanted to say, "No homework, no making out," but I couldn't pull together the energy to open my mouth again. Instead, I let myself fall into dreamland there in Brodie's arms.

  It felt like I had just fallen asleep when I was being shaken awake. "Sunshine, Grams needs to take your temperature."

  I felt like a rag doll as Grams held the thermometer in my mouth, Brodie helped me sit up, and Grams helped me take more disgusting syrup stuff. My tonsils still felt like they were pushing maximum density in the back of my throat, and as opposed to the earlier chills, I was now burning up. I just wanted to go back to sleep, but the call had been made for "more fluids." I was barely coherent, but managed to sip more of the sports drink placed in front of me.

  Somewhere in the middle of all this care-taking, I managed to ask, "Time is it?"

  Brodie answered, "Just after five."

  Okay, so I couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour, probably less. Which meant I was still in bad shape—not that the way I felt didn't already tip me off, but I was trying to get my bearings a little better.

  "Let's try some water now," Grams said softly, but firmly.

  I felt a cool cup being put in front of me with another straw. I still couldn't open my eyes, they burned too much. The sheet covering the lower half of my body felt too heavy and warm. Weakly, I pushed at it, but Brodie's hands covered mine.

  His whisper was just barely audible. "While I didn't mind you lying there all exposed in that dress, I didn't think your dad would go for it. Leave the sheet there, baby." I let my head fall to his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around me. "Your dad brought your pajamas, but you only have long pants. You were complaining about the sheet as it is. I didn't want to add another layer."

  I complained? I didn't remember even being awake. "Shorts—in the bags."

  Brodie's voice projected away from me. "The bags are still in my truck. Can you go grab them?"

  Sammy's voice came from the doorway. "Sure thing."

  "Okay, more water," Grams commanded.

  When Sammy's voice came back into the room grumbling about having to find Brodie's keys, I could hear Brodie go through the bags. Grams had forced more water and sports drink down me, but nothing made me feel better.

  She softly patted my shoulder. "Okay we'll clear out so he can help you change, but we need to keep going with the fluids."

  "You're gonna let him take her clothes off?" Sammy sounded completely shocked.

  "Not like he hasn't done it before," she replied as if it was the only logical response.

  I think I was already red from the fever, or I would have been blushing from head to toe.

  "Grams!" Sammy squealed as if he was embarrassed over what she'd said. "They haven't had sex."

  "What?" Now she sounded really shocked, and I just wanted to go back to sleep. "How is that—"

  Brodie was chuckling in my ear. "Sorry, baby. She, uh, knows me too well."

  Grams was so dramatic, but sincere. "I'm really sorry, Risa, really, but what? Has he been lobotomized? Is he a clone or a robot or something? This is not the pig of a boy that's been living under my roof." Her deep breath could easily be heard as she let it out. "Alright well, I'll work on coming to terms with this later. Both guys out, I'll help Risa change."

  I unstuck my eyelids and looked up at Brodie, fisting my hands in his T-shirt. "Brodie," I begged. His grandma was great and seemed really nice, but I'd known her like an hour. I did not want her seeing me in my underwear. No way.

  "Shh, baby," he said softly to me before turning to the others. "I've seen her in a bathing suit Grams, it's not a big deal. And she's more comfortable with me."

  The disapproval was clear in her voice. "Brodie, if her father hears about this—"

  "I'll take the heat," he volunteered, and a moment later, the door closed.

  Brodie's movements barely registered with me. The only thing I paid much attention to beyond trying to go back to sl
eep was the cool air hitting me as he pulled my dress over my head. But that vanished a moment later, and I was asleep again.

  The process of what seemed an hourly check of my temperature and drinking more fluids repeated at least five more times before I started to feel less like death and more like the seriously maimed. I woke up on my own, rolling my head from side to side to relieve the stiffness in my neck. I didn't see Brodie anywhere, but I hadn't expected him to stay by me all day and night, staring at me as I slept. My bladder was screaming at me, and I felt really weak, but I was determined to get up and use the bathroom.

  It took forever to get my body to cooperate, but I finally got my feet on the floor and stood somewhat upright by grabbing onto the wall. Impressed with my abilities, I forged on toward the door to the bathroom. Five steps in though, my body mutinied and the edges of my vision went black. The room swayed, and I crumpled quickly to the floor.

  "Risa!" Brodie's shouting and subsequent pounding up the stairs was actually a relief because I had no idea how I was going to get up off the floor.

  The door opened, and I was pretty sure I looked pitiful as I stared up at him. "I have to pee."

  He laughed long and rumbling, just the way I loved. "Then pound on the wall or something." He scooped me up into his arms in like two seconds. "You could have hurt yourself." He set me down in the bathroom and hunched down to look me in the eye. "Don't try to walk out of here. Knock on the wall, and I'll come carry you back to bed." He tapped the end of my nose when I rolled my eyes.

  I was ready to knock on the wall when my stubborn stupidity decided it had recovered enough from being sick to kick in. I didn't need to be carried everywhere. I could walk. I wasn't some baby. So I dried off my hands and stepped to the door, opening it slowly.

  "What are you—"

  "I can walk." I tried to sound as forceful and independent as I could, but the weak, smoker's voice that croaked out of me seriously lessened the effect.

  "Why when I can carry you? You should save your energy, baby." He put his hands on my waist, guiding me.

 

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