To Hell and Back
Page 6
“Where will you go, Brie? If you don’t go home, where are you going to go?” He has stopped his pacing and is staring at me, waiting for my response.
“I haven’t figured that out yet,” I tell him in a tiny voice that I hardly recognize as my own.
Neither one of us says anything for a long moment. The silence in the room is heavy and I can hear his rapid breathing. He’s angry and scared for me, I know that, but this isn’t the time for me to worry about him. He has no place in my life right now. I have to worry about myself. This is all becoming too much.
Carson squats down at the side of the bed, the fire still raging in his eyes. He reaches toward my face and I flinch away from him. I’m not very comfortable with angry men near my head. The motion seems to jerk him out of his thoughts, a look of sadness replacing his anger.
“I was – I was just going to brush your hair back, Brie,” he whispers. “I would never hurt you. I would never touch you in anger. I’m angry at him, not at you. I’m angry at the situation. If I touch you, it will be to care for you and to make you happy, never to cause you pain. Never.”
In my heart, I know he means what he is saying. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t know what comes next, and I can’t drag someone else into this mess.
“Carson, you should go. I need this time to think. I’m working on a way to get myself out of here. I am supposed to go home the day after tomorrow. I…”
“Fuck that, Brie!” His exclamation interrupts me and I’m stunned into silence. “I’m sorry, I really am, but this is crazy. He could have killed you. If you think I’m going to stand here and watch someone I care about suffer alone, then you’re wrong. I am not leaving; I am not letting go of you. I’m taking you with me. Come stay with me, Brie. Let me help you. Let’s do this together.”
I just lie there on the stark white hospital bed and stare at my hands. He can’t mean it. He barely knows me. But the smallest flicker of hope sparks somewhere in my heart and that’s more than I’ve had in the longest time. I find myself wanting to agree to his crazy idea.
“I wish we could, but…”
“No, Brie. No more telling me it’s complicated. No more pushing me away. This, whatever this is, might be new and it might be scary but it’s real. I’m connected to you in a way that extends to the core of my soul and that means something. It means you’re mine and I’m yours and it means I’m going to take care of you while you get better and we figure out a way for you to take care of yourself. It means you have a friend, a boyfriend, hell, a brother if that’s what you need. But you have me, Brie. You have all of me. I’m in.”
I start to cry; everything he says is like a light in my dark, lonely heart. I am so overwhelmed that I actually giggle at him, saying the first thing that pops into my head.
“Carson, I could never think of you as my brother!”
He smiles and the air feels a little lighter in the room. “Thank God for that, Brie. I have had a lot of thoughts about you, and hell, I’ve even had dreams about you. But I’m telling you right now that there wasn’t a single one of them where you were my sister.”
We talk a while longer before a nurse comes in and tells us it’s time for him to leave. He gently kisses my forehead and tells me he will see me in the morning. I’m scared and excited along with a million other emotions I can’t separate from each other. I don’t know how this will work or if it’s even a good idea, but it’s the only chance I have and I’m going to take it. Tomorrow morning I will sign myself out of this place and leave with Carson. I’m through with slowly dying in hell and I’m going to fight my way back to reclaim my life.
Chapter Eight
Brielle
It’s ten in the morning and Doctor Stevens has already come by to sign my release papers. There has been absolutely no sign of my father, but I can’t stop staring at the clock. I watch every single second tick by as I wait for Carson. I really want to believe he’s coming, that yesterday wasn’t a dream, but part of me feels like this can’t possibly be real. I’m taking a leap of faith and I’m going to see where it takes me. As long as it’s in the opposite direction of my former home, I’m willing to try.
I called the school this morning and told them I wouldn’t be back. I asked about a GED, but, since there are so few weeks left in the school year, they will let me homeschool myself for the rest of the year. The story I gave them is that I am riddled with anxiety after the attack. I said that I just can’t handle school right now. It’s kind of ironic; even with all the uncertainty in my life, I’m the least anxious I’ve been in years. I will have to keep up with my classes, but I can do everything through email. There is no reason for me to ever set foot in the school building again. It feels like I am one step closer to being free of this place, but there is so much more to think about.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts when I hear the door open and my heart stops for a second. I can’t help being scared that my father is going to come through that door first and everything is going to go wrong. My heart resumes it’s normal, if somewhat hastened, rhythm when I see it’s Carson. He has a bouquet of flowers for me and Claire is right behind him with a wheelchair.
“Carson! Thank God!” I start to get up from the end of the bed but Carson quickly crosses to me and takes my arm. He kisses me gently on the forehead and I feel so completely cared for in this moment that I just want to stop time and revel in the feeling.
Carson laughs a little and says, “Did you think I wouldn’t come? I seem to remember promising to be your knight in shining armor.”
“Please tell me he didn’t really say that,” Claire chimes in.
“He really did.” I smile at her. She pushes the wheelchair toward me and I try to wave it away. “I’m okay to walk, but thank you, Claire. I feel better today than I have yet.”
“I’m sure you do, but it’s hospital policy that you can’t walk out of here. Your boyfriend can bring the car around and I’ll bring you out front.”
I pale at the word “boyfriend” and my gaze snaps to Carson’s face. I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t the look of pure happiness I see there. He is beaming at me with a smile that not only reaches his eyes, but makes them sparkle, and I feel like pinching myself. He really is my knight. Carson hands me the flowers and kisses me again, this time on the lips. It’s a simple kiss, one that I’m not embarrassed for Claire to see, but it means the world to me.
“Thank you, Carson. They’re so beautiful.”
“So is my girlfriend,” he says. He tells Claire to be careful with me and heads out to get his car.
“Wow,” Claire says once the door closes behind Carson. “I didn’t want to say anything but is that seriously Maxwell Presley? My younger sister was a huge Stonewall fan and maybe I’m crazy but that looked an awful lot like the guy from the posters on her wall!”
I don’t usually think about who Carson is to other people. Everything between us is still so new, but he’s already grown to be more than the guy in the magazines hidden under my mattress. “Yes, that’s him,” I tell Claire. “He’s really a wonderful guy, kind of trying to stay out of the spotlight at the moment.”
“Don’t worry, honey. I won’t be calling the tabloids,” she laughs. “I get the feeling there is a lot more to your story than I know. That young man looks at you like you hung the moon and I’m happy for you. Everyone should have someone who looks at them that way.”
She motions to the wheelchair and I sit down. We take the elevator down to the main lobby in silence. She rolls me outside and helps me out of the chair, saying, “Good luck, honey. I think you’re going to be just fine.” She winks at me and heads back inside.
Carson’s car is just pulling up as Claire disappears back into the building. My stomach is doing some crazy kind of dance in my abdomen and I’m feeling every emotion I can think of right now. I know that the moment I leave with him, it’s like my life begins all over again. I’m starting that life with a guy I barely know and not much else.
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My purse and its contents were evidence in the crime against me, but Chief Davis dropped off my wallet to me yesterday. He said he figured I might need it more than they do and asked if I had remembered anything else. I didn’t have to think very hard before telling him I had remembered nothing new. So everything I own right now comes down to the clothes on my back and the wallet and flowers in my hand. The outfit is something Claire pieced together for me from things left behind by other patients. My clothes from the night I came in are also considered evidence, and my father definitely didn’t bring me anything else to wear.
The grocery money I had in my wallet is gone; Hank probably removed it before the police and ambulance arrived. He wouldn’t have let his whiskey money leave with me. There is an emergency stash of forty dollars in a hidden pocket that he didn’t know to take. It’s not much but it’s something. I feel a little sick when I realize just how dependent I’m going to be on Carson. I know he said he knows what he’s getting into and that he’s all in, but I can’t help feeling like I contribute nothing to this budding relationship.
Carson parks the car right in front of me and gets out to help me into my seat. He even helps me buckle before planting another kiss on my forehead. When he gets back into the driver’s seat I feel like I should say something, anything, but there are just no words. How do you say thank you to someone for saving your life? To someone who just three weeks ago was a stranger? Someone who, in that short time, has already changed your whole world?
Carson
I slide into the driver’s seat and close the door. I cannot believe that Brielle is mine. I’ve only known this girl such a short time, but I don’t understand how no one has rescued her before this. From the first moment I saw her I felt protective of her. Just the thought of someone laying a hand on her makes me blind with rage. I want her to know without a doubt that she has done the right thing by placing her trust in me. I want to take care of this girl who is so fragile and broken, yet willing to put herself out there and try. She’s so much stronger than she knows and even though my heart breaks at every bruise and every broken bone she’s had to endure, I know she’s a survivor.
I put the car in drive and head for Mrs. Hanley’s. I talked with the warm, grandmotherly woman last night after dinner and asked her what she knew of Brie’s situation. Unsurprisingly, she knew more than she had ever let on, or at least she suspected more. It seems like everyone in this town has some idea of what Hank Douglas is really like, but they all agree with Brie that trying to bring him to justice is a hopeless cause.
I told Mrs. H that Brie was finally ready to break free of her father and take a chance at her own life. She was incredibly kind and told me she saw no reason to involve anyone else in the matter. She said Brie could stay there with me as long as either of us would like and no one would have to know a thing. She even baked chocolate chip muffins this morning.
Neither of us has said a word on the drive here. I know I’m nervous as hell to finally have time to just be with her, time to relax and get to know each other. I worried all last night that she may just end up thinking I’m a complete ass. This isn’t like a date with some starlet to get press recognition or some fangirl I’m hooking up with just because I can. I’ve done that. Every face from my past is meaningless. I haven’t been a monk; there have been girls in my life, but I have never cared about any of them like this. This is important and I don’t want to screw it up. For now, I’ll be happy that she didn’t correct me when I called her my girlfriend. Labels may not matter in the long run, but right now it feels like something solid and that works for me.
Brie looks pale as we pull into the driveway of the B&B. I’m worried that she’s not really well enough to be out of the hospital, no matter what the doctor said. “Brie, just take it easy. I’ll come help you out of the car. Do you need anything? Are you in pain?”
She just stares at the house for another moment and turns to me slowly, saying “What if he finds me here? What if Mrs. Hanley talks to him? Carson, I can’t let him find me right now.”
She seems so scared, so small right now. She is one of the bravest people I have ever met, but she has no idea. I take her hand and try to reassure her. “I already talked to Mrs. Hanley. She cares about you and wants you to be safe and comfortable here. She agrees that no one else can know you're here and is really looking forward to having you. Apparently you were quite a cute kid,” I laugh. “Not surprising given how cute you are now.”
The blush that creeps up her face is at the same time adorable and totally hot.
“Carson Malone, I am a lot of things but I am not cute!” she admonishes me, and the tension we felt on the ride here has been broken.
Mrs. Hanley’s Bed and Breakfast has only been here for about thirty years, but the house has to have been here for at least a hundred. It’s a Victorian-style house, which I only know because it says so on the brochure, and it’s painted a buttery sort of yellow. There is a white wraparound porch on the two-story home and the shutters have been painted blue. They could probably use a new coat of paint, but something about the worn look adds to the charm of this place.
The bedroom I’ve been using, the “beige room”, has its own bathroom but the other three rooms on the second floor share one. I asked Mrs. Hanley to make up the “blue room” for Brie since she loves the color. I’d love to share a bed with her, or even sleep in the same room, but we aren’t there yet. Brie’s comfort comes before anything else. I love kissing her, but I won’t touch her in any other way until I’m sure that’s what she wants.
Mrs. Hanley is waiting in the foyer for us and pulls Brie into a careful hug. “Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re here. You’re safe here for as long as you want to stay. I usually visit with Edith on Monday afternoons, but I talked her out of coming over because she does tend to ramble and I didn’t want her spilling the beans! No way is any harm going to come to you on my watch! Now, I’ve been in that hospital and I know the cafeteria is just atrocious. I figure after a few days of their food you must be starving! I have a big old batch of my chocolate chip muffins just for you. That gorgeous boy of yours might get one if he behaves himself,” she titters on her way to the kitchen.
The sly look Brie is giving me tells me she caught the slightly flirtatious tone coming from the older lady.
“Do I have competition for you already?” Brie asks me.
“I don’t know. Her muffins are pretty good…”
Brie sniffs a little and gives me a pout. “Well, if that’s how you really feel…”
“You can’t imagine how I really feel, Brie. Muffins or not, no one compares to you.”
Brie is quiet at this last comment and I hope I haven’t said something wrong. I worry for a second but she slowly breaks out in a smile and everything feels right again.
Brielle
I’m not sure what to say to him. He seems to have that effect on me a lot. I’m not used to having someone around who thinks I’m beautiful, funny, and maybe even sexy. Someone who thinks I have worth. I smile at him, but I’m saved from actually having to say anything by Mrs. Hanley’s reentry. She has a tray with four muffins and two glasses of milk. “That young man has been nothing but polite and helpful since I met him, Brie. That’s a good boy right there. He definitely gets a muffin!”
We all laugh and Carson and I are led to the dining room table with our snack. He eats his muffin slowly as I devour two of them and pick at a third. “Sorry, Carson, if you wanted this one, but yes, the hospital food really was that bad!”
“I don’t care if you eat every muffin in the house, Brie. If it makes you happy and feeds your body so it can heal then it’s worth going hungry.”
I make a face at him and throw a small chunk of muffin at him. He catches it and pops it in his mouth. He puts his hands up in surrender and at that moment I fall for him just a little harder.
When I’ve completely finished my third muffin, Mrs. Hanley comes in to clear our plates and glasses. She asks
if we’d like her to show us upstairs but Carson declines and leads me up to the second floor. There are old photos of places in Marshall lining the stairway walls. One of them shows the ribbon cutting ceremony at the opening of Miller’s Goods and another was taken seventy-five years ago during the construction of our “new” bridge. It’s still referred to that way all these years later.
At the top of the stair, the hallway splits and there is an open bedroom to the left and several closed doors to the right. I suddenly realize I have no idea what our sleeping arrangements are going to be. I’m both scared to death and excited at the thought that we might share a room.
“Mrs. Hanley made up the blue room for you,” Carson tells me. He leads me to the open door on our left. “I’ve been staying in the beige room which is the door at the other end of the hall. The pink and green rooms are empty right now so it’s just us. The bathroom is that middle door.”
I walk into my new bedroom and sit on the end of the bed, rubbing my fingers over the soft quilt done in shades of blue. It seems homey and cozy, like everything else in this house. There is a bookshelf in the corner with a small selection of books and some knick-knacks. I have a dresser and night stand, as well, but no television that I can see. In fact, the only nods to the electronic age are a bedside lamp and an alarm clock/radio combination telling me that it’s now almost noon in neon green numbers. I’m feeling pretty tired already, and this bed is calling my name. Between the pain meds, the head injury, and the constant interruptions by medical staff, I’ve been tired for what seems like forever. What I need is a deep, sound sleep. In fact, it feels like I have been sleeping with one eye open since I was fourteen and I’m ready to just let it all go for a few hours. I’ll figure out what to do with the rest of my life later.