by Olivia Evans
“Oh God,” she groaned in a whisper as twin tears slipped down the sides of her face.
“Are you okay?” asked the girl working the ultrasound.
Presley nodded and pulled in a gasping breath of air. She was so far from okay she might as well have been on another planet. So, she gave the only answer she could. “I just want to get this over with.”
Chapter Seventeen
Dylan
Present Day
“How are you holding up?” Dr. Edmonds asked, his hands clasped on the desk.
Dylan let out a humorless chuckle and shook his head. “It’s been a rough couple of days.” A rough couple of days was the understatement of the year. After Presley had a seizure in his arms, Dylan hadn’t had access to her, which meant the Fluoxetine had been added back to her medications. Fortunately for Dylan, Presley had the shittiest doctor in the world. Dr. Sanders never even considered that her medication had been tampered with, only that she’d had an adverse reaction to the additional Haloperidol, so he reduced it again.
“I know it’s difficult when a patient you have emotional ties to has a setback, but don’t give up on Cody. He still deserves to have his story told.”
Dylan looked at Dr. Edmonds and tried his best to keep his expression neutral. Dr. Edmonds truly had no idea what was going on, and Dylan didn’t know whether to be thankful or wonder if people like Dr. Edmonds were part of the problem. How could everyone be so completely clueless to their surroundings? How could they not know that Presley and Cody and who knew how many other patients in their facility were suffering while in their care?
“I won’t give up on Cody. Or Zach.”
Dr. Edmonds’s brows lifted in surprise. “Has he said anything to you?”
Dylan pulled in a deep breath and chose his words carefully. He didn’t want to lie, but he certainly wanted things to seem as though they were going better than they were. After all, wasn’t that exactly the case with all the other doctors? “Zach loved his mother. I don’t think we have the whole story.”
“What makes you think that?”
Dylan raked his hand through his hair before a memory popped in his head. He wasn’t sure if it was useful, but it was all he had. “Did you know that Zach is twenty?”
Dr. Edmonds’s eyes widened, and he sat forward in his chair. “What?”
Dylan nodded and mimicked his position. “He told me. Zach is a twenty-year-old personality in a thirteen-year-old boy’s body.”
“That’s incredible,” Dr. Edmonds exhaled, his eyes taking on a faraway look.
“It makes sense. Zach had always seemed older to me, much more so than Cody and Maverick. Speaking of Maverick, he’s hardly shown himself at all. I guess Cody must be feeling a little better.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Maverick didn’t appear until after the murder. Cody was depressed, he wanted to disappear, just let Zach take over. Maverick stopped that from happening. I’m not sure if it was self-preservation or if Maverick is some kind of protector alter. Either way, Maverick hasn’t been around much. I can only assume that Cody is feeling better.”
Dr. Edmonds stared at Dylan, his expression incredulous. “You’ve learned more about Cody and his alters in a few weeks than Dr. Sanders has in years. Sure, he’s made observations and hypotheses, but until now, it was all just speculation.” Dr. Edmonds shook his head to regain a bit of his composure that had slipped. “So, you’ve spent quite a bit of time with Zach?”
Dylan nodded. “I have. We haven’t had many in-depth discussions, but I do believe he’s beginning to trust me.” The thought was sobering. Zach had put himself in harm’s way time and time again to help Presley, without having any of the details about her past. In that moment, Dylan made a decision. He was going to trust Zach. He was going to tell him about his past with Presley.
“I don’t want to put too much pressure on you, but would you be interested in continuing working at Hilltop for a bit longer?”
Dylan did his best to keep from seeming too eager as he answered. “I would like that very much.”
Dr. Edmonds stood and extended his hand. “Very well, then. I will have to put you on a few night rotations, but you will primarily remain on the day shift.” With a firm shake of his hand, Dr. Edmonds said his goodbyes. “We’ll chat again soon.”
Nodding, Dylan turned and left Dr. Edmonds’s office. On his way to Hilltop, he thought about the last few days. How Dr. Sanders seemed to be everywhere. How Dylan hadn’t seen Presley since the seizure and Cody had been kept in isolation. There had to be a better way. He just couldn’t seem to figure out what it was.
Walking into the lounge, Dylan was surprised to see both Presley and Cody. They were sitting on the floor together, their faces drawn, tired. Tearing his eyes away from the pair, he walked into the nurse's station and greeted Katherine. “Good morning.”
“Hi, Dr. Walker,” she rasped. “Don’t get too close. I think I’m coming down with something.”
Dylan’s brows dipped in concern. “Why are you here? You should be at home resting.”
Katherine shrugged. “I can’t. They couldn't find anyone to cover my shift.”
Dylan understood. The nurses had been understaffed since he’d started working there. It was how he’d managed to get hours in the first place. “Well, let’s get these medications distributed, and then you go lie down for a bit. Things seem pretty calm this morning.”
Katherine looked toward Cody and Presley and nodded. “They’ve been sitting like that since they got here. I don’t know what’s going on, but they’re behaving, so I’m not too concerned.”
Dylan scanned the medications, thankful that the Haloperidol was still reduced. He’d decided not to mess with her Fluoxetine again, but he was completely tossing out Haloperidol, and he wasn’t going to supplement with Xanax. The withdrawal from the Haloperidol was mental, not physical like the Fluoxetine. And like it or not, he was going to have to deal with that aspect of her recovery sooner rather than later. He still wasn’t one hundred percent certain what happened the day Zach hit him, but his gut told him Presley’s outburst was the combination of memories and withdrawals. One thing at a time from now on.
Once the medications were distributed and Katherine had left to rest, Dylan moved to sit with Cody and Presley. “How are you both doing this morning?”
“I’m sorry he hit you,” Cody whispered, his eyes full of remorse. Dylan shook his head.
“I’m not angry. He did what he thought he had to do at the time, but I need him to promise he won’t do anything like that again. I don’t want either of you in trouble.”
Cody’s shoulders twitched, and his head dipped forward as the book he held fell to the floor. For a moment, he remained completely still until he pulled in a gasping breath and snapped his eyes to Dylan. Cody was gone.
Dylan exhaled. “Hello, Zach.”
Zach looked from Presley to Dylan. Lifting his hand, he waved it in front of Presley’s face. She didn’t even flinch. “They doped her up good the last couple of days. I don’t think she even remembers what happened.”
Dylan looked at Presley, his chest aching just like it had the very first time he’d seen her. “What did happen?”
“I’d like some answers from you first. I can’t help her if I don’t understand.”
Dylan nodded. He knew it was time. With a resigned sigh, he turned to Zach and lowered his voice. “I got Presley pregnant our senior year of high school. Her parents would have disowned her or sent her away. So she did the only thing she thought she could, and it broke her.” With a heavy sigh, Dylan told their story. He didn’t leave out a single detail as he recalled his life with Presley and what led them to where they were. He told Zach about the items in Presley’s file, the newspaper clipping, the power of attorney, everything. It wasn’t until he finished that Dylan realized it was the first time he’d ever told someone the entire story from beginning to end. He couldn’t help but find the irony in the fact
that the person he confided in was a patient in the very hospital at which he worked.
Zach was silent for several moments before he sighed and met Dylan’s gaze. “She was asking for Dylan. When Cody nudged the blanket in her lap and told her he was right there, she lost it. She started screaming ‘Where’s Dylan? Where’s my boyfriend?’ He tried to calm her, but she was hysterical. So, I stepped in and created a distraction.”
Presley started to hum, the familiar tune of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” bringing Dylan and Zach’s conversation to a halt.
“I’m going to try to convince her to tongue her Haloperidol at night,” Zach said as he stood. “Now that I know more, I’ll be able to talk to her at night. I don’t know if it will help, but it’s a start.” Without another word, Zach walked to the other side of the room, leaving Presley and Dylan alone.
Dylan stared in his direction for a few moments before turning his attention back to Presley. “How are you feeling, Presley?”
She shrugged. “Tired. Sad.”
“Why are you sad?”
“I don’t know. I just know that I am. I miss someone. I miss them so much.”
Dylan pulled in a shuddering breath. “Are you still having your dreams?”
“Nightmares,” Presley corrected. “They’re nothing more than nightmares.”
Dylan shook his head and pulled a necklace from his coat pocket. The necklace he’d given her more than six years ago. The necklace Presley’s mother had given back to him when he’d shown up at her apartment, demanding to know where Presley was. Her mother had looked at him with a mix of pity, disgust, and hatred as she removed the thin silver chain from her clutch and dangled the butterfly in front of him. “She doesn’t want it anymore,” she’d said, her voice flat as she dropped it into Dylan’s open palm. “She doesn’t want you anymore.”
Dylan’s chest ached at the memory of the pain her words had caused. He’d kept the necklace despite her harsh words, and in some way, it gave him comfort. Dylan hoped it could do the same for Presley. Opening her hand, he dropped the chain into her palm, the black and red butterfly charm resting on top.
“What’s this?” she whispered, her mouth creased into a frown.
“It’s something I’d like you to have. It belongs to someone very special to me.”
“Then why don’t they have it?”
Dylan gave her a soft smile. “You’ll understand soon enough.”
Over the next couple of weeks, each day became harder than the one before. Little by little, Presley began to remember things about her life. It started slowly at first, memories about her childhood and parents began to trickle through the haze of drugs that had blanketed her mind for years. With each memory, however, came confusion, questions, and ultimately sadness.
Like when she remembered flashes of a snow fight with her friends in Central Park. Dylan was there, he remembered it vividly, but Presley only remembered the feel of the snow and the cold wind on her cheeks.
She didn’t understand what was happening, but each day she clutched the blanket in her arms a little tighter. Dylan tried his best to soothe her, and though it seemed she trusted him, she’d become somewhat distant since he’d given her the necklace.
“When is your grandmother arriving?” Milly asked as she and Dylan finished up a late dinner. It was only the third time he’d worked with her in almost a month, and he’d forgotten how fond of her he was.
“Tomorrow. She’s excited to meet everyone.”
“I hope you plan on taking her to places other than Grace and Hilltop. It seems like all you ever do is work. How are you supposed to find a nice girl if all you do is surround yourself with nurses and patients?”
Dylan shifted in his chair and let out an uncomfortable laugh. Milly couldn’t have picked a topic that Dylan was more uncomfortable with. “Maybe I’m content spending my days pining away for you.”
Milly pursed her lips. “Flirting with me is a waste of time. That ship sailed about forty years ago.”
Dylan grinned. “I quite enjoy flirting with you, Milly.”
Milly swatted her hand in the air and rolled her eyes, even though Dylan could see the color rising to her cheeks. “You’re worse than Joel. Don’t you have something else you should be doing?”
Dylan laughed and grabbed their plates. “I’m going to make rounds. You just sit and relax, beautiful.” With a wink, Dylan dumped their plates in the trash and headed toward the lounge door, chuckling when he heard Milly scolding him like a child.
Stepping into the hall, Dylan made his way toward the patient bedrooms, the echo of his shoes against the tile the only sound. He turned the corner, his eyes widening as he collided with Cody.
“Dr. Walker! It’s Presley!”
Dylan grabbed Cody by the shoulders and held him in place. “Cody, I need you to calm down and tell me what happened. What’s the matter with Presley?”
“It’s about the baby.”
Dylan didn’t need to hear anything else. He knew exactly what happened. “Go back to your room. I’ll take care of her.” Cody hesitated for a moment before giving a sharp nod and taking off for his room. Dylan sprinted down the hall, the sound of Presley’s screams growing louder with each step. He skidded to a stop as soon as he reached her room, quickly stepping inside and closing the door.
“Where is he?” she wailed, pressing the blanket to her chest. “Where is my baby? What have you done with him?”
Dylan moved to where Presley sat on the floor in front of the small crib and fell to his knees. Presley flinched when he reached for her, but he didn’t let it deter him. “Shh, Presley, please. I need you to calm down.”
“Calm,” she screamed, ripping away from him. “Fuck calm. I want my baby!”
Dylan reached for her arms again, and this time, he gripped her tighter when she tried to pull away. “There is no baby,” he said, his throat tightening as Presley shook her head and continued to try to wrestle free.
“You’re lying! You did this! Everything was fine before you came here.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, her skin red and blotchy, her hair disheveled.
“Everything was not fine,” Dylan argued, moving closer. “There is no baby, Presley.”
“My son,” she sobbed, her head falling forward, her shoulders shaking.
“We don’t have a son, Presley.” Dylan spoke so softly he wasn’t sure if she even heard him until her body stilled. Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes wide and her lips trembling.
“What did you say?”
Dylan swallowed and moved his hands to Presley’s, lacing their fingers together before he spoke. “We never had our baby.”
Presley shook her head, and when she ripped her hands away again, Dylan let her. She wound her fingers in her hair and screwed her eyes shut. “This isn’t real, this isn’t real,” she mumbled, rocking back and forth.
“Goddammit,” Dylan groaned, his eyes brimming with tears. Covering her hands with his, he pressed their foreheads together. “I know you’re in there. Come on, Elvis, remember me. Remember us.”
A gasp left her lips, and she stilled. After what felt like an eternity, Presley met his gaze, and for the first time since he’d found her, she saw him.
“What did you call me?”
Dylan gave her a half smile and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Elvis. I’ve always called you that.”
Her entire body shook as she reached out, her hand hovering over his face like she was afraid to touch him. Taking her lead, Dylan pressed her hand to the side of his face. In an instant, her expression crumpled. “Dylan?” she choked, lifting her other hand to his face. “Dylan!”
Dylan nodded and mirrored her position. “It’s me.”
“Oh my God.” Her hands fluttered around him once more, her finger tracing the crease of the dimple in his cheek before moving to his shoulders and then resting where his heart hammered inside his chest.
“I’ve missed you so much.” Unable to stand the distance any l
onger, he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her against his chest. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”
Presley cried against him, his shirt twisted in her hands. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t,” he whispered, pressing his face to her neck. The feel of her wrapped around him was almost too much. For six years, he’d mourned and longed for her. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he’d have the opportunity to hold her again. Not in this lifetime anyway.
“The baby?”
Dylan pulled back to look at her, and the heartbroken yet hopeful look in her beautiful hazel eyes gutted him. His vision swam as he shook his head, unable to say the words out loud.
Chapter Eighteen
Presley
March 2011
Dylan stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his face twisted with anger. Presley sat on her bed with her head down. She couldn’t look at him. She knew he would be disappointed in her for going to the clinic alone, but she hadn’t been prepared for his anger.
“Why are you shutting me out, Presley? I told you not to do this.”
“I’m not shutting you out,” she argued, even though she could hear the weakness of her protest.
“Then what would you call making an appointment at an abortion clinic, and then going to said appointment without so much as a word?”
Presley ground her teeth together, the mixture of emotions she’d felt throughout the day finally surging to the surface. “Maybe I needed to do this part on my own! Maybe I needed some time alone to come to terms with everything happening! I know you’re just as much a part of this as I am, but I’m the one with everything to lose here.”
Dylan shook his head and pushed off the wall. “That’s such bullshit. You think I have nothing to lose? Presley, if I lose you, there’s nothing left. Don’t you get that?” He moved in front of her and dropped to his knees. Cupping her face, he tilted her chin until they were at eye level. “What do I have to do to prove how much I love you? It's impossible to picture a future where I’m happy unless I'm with you. I need you, Presley. It’s not a matter of want.”
