Unraveling

by Kelley Griffin

  Kirin shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”

  Doris stood and walked to the window, exhaling. “I just don’t understand. Who would want to blow up a hospital where we help people?” Doris turned. “What kind of extremist would plan an attack on a place that offers healing?” Kirin watched her boss shaking her head, and yet all the while, knowing.

  She knew what monster.

  Well, in truth, monsters. She’d narrowed it down to two that might want her dead—Scar and Todd, Saul’s son, who was also Stacy’s new husband. One of the two had to be pulling the strings using what was left of Saul’s money to get at her.

  She was sure that both men wanted to make her pay for his death. One of these men had to be the ringleader enacting revenge for what happened in her backyard.

  One thing was becoming clear—she needed to stop them both from hurting anyone else.

  Chapter Three

  Shortly after her boss left, pain meds were administered, and she drifted off to sleep. Those pills must have had magic qualities as they suppressed her regular nightmares. When she woke, the room was dark, and she was alone. The clock read 5:45 which meant Sam was still home getting the boys settled for the night.

  She’d talked with the boys’ nanny, Rosa over the phone right after lunch. Rosa had packed a bag and stayed at her house since the accident, so Sam could be with Kirin. They’d cried during the call, which was out of character for both. Neither showed that emotion often. Kirin hadn’t processed how close she came to losing her life, until that phone call.

  She rolled to the side and a shooting pain zinged through her shoulder. The buzzer was right next to her hand, so she pressed it. She wanted someone to take her to see Laura. Nobody answered. The hall outside was eerily quiet. Something didn’t feel right. Her cell sat on the tray table which was pulled right next to the bed.

  When she glanced over, it rang. Her entire body jumped. When she picked it up, the word “restricted” illuminated instead of a phone number, reminding her of the threatening texts she’d received when The Club had wanted the book. She answered, “Hello?”

  “How ya feelin’ honey?” The gruff voice dripped in sarcasm.

  Her stomach twisted, and she instinctively tried to sit up straight, causing a host of painful stabs that told her not to. She could feel the blood draining out of her face.

  The voice. It was Saul. But he was dead. Get a hold of yourself. It can’t be him, Saul died... you saw his body.

  She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat, “Who is this?”

  “I think you know. But, for now, tell that fiancé of yours to stop meddling in my business or let’s just say I’ll give new meaning to your upcoming wedding vows of ‘til death do us part.”

  Her nightmares coming to life. Anger shot through her body like an explosion. The tight, menacing voice that came out of her, she no longer recognized.

  “You will never touch him as long as I’m alive, do you hear me?” Her voice deep yet raised, she sounded like a protective mama bear. “When I get out of here—"

  He interrupted, “Next time it’ll be more than a few broken bones. You may think you’ve won...shut us down, but you’re wrong. You in a lot of pain, honey?” He laughed a hearty laugh and it was then, her mind clicked. The voice was too deep, too southern and held an air of Louisiana in it. It wasn’t Saul, but close. The inflections were the same. They had to be related.

  Had to be Scar.

  He continued, “You might want to find out who your future husband is keeping company with. Look out your window. Right now, he’s got his arms around a dark-haired beauty.” The phone went dead.

  “Hello? Hello?” She yelled. Heat rose in her face, touching her ears. Sam had been acting strange lately. Late nights out chasing animals with his TWRA guys.

  What if animals weren’t the only thing he was chasing? Her stomach gripped and knotted with dread. She shook her head. She knew what she had to do. She’d have to drag herself to the window. See for herself. But what if it was a trap? Who knows, maybe they hired a sharpshooter to take her out. She’d get to the side and peek out.

  Placing the phone on the swing table, she pushed her good fist into the mattress to help scoot her rear to the edge of the bed. Pain shot through her body. She concentrated on not using her right arm and not kinking her IV, because the latter would sound an alarm. Feet touching the floor, she took a deep breath. Dizzy was a tiny concept compared to what her head was doing. Her thoughts were fuzzy as the room spun. She grabbed the IV pole for stability, but it wobbled as she dragged it toward the end of the bed. With each pull, it complained, squeaking out a noise she feared would get her caught.

  Dread filled her mind. Not only would this journey be physically painful, but there was a possibility that if the caller was telling the truth, what she might see would break her.

  One last push and she’d be at the foot of the bed. Her stylish, free-flowing hospital gown would show any sudden visitor her entire backside. But that wasn’t the worst of her problems. Stabbing pain at her incision site felt like someone twisted a knife with each step. As a nurse, she knew that wasn’t a good sign.

  If she were gonna make it the last five feet to the window, she needed to do it before her body decided it couldn’t take the pain and passed out. She sped up. The IV pole groaned and squeaked out it’s dislike of this tactic. Hearing a noise, she froze and glanced back toward the door. She fully expected to get caught like a child stealing a brownie.

  When she was positive nobody was coming to stop her, she took a deep breath and pushed her feet to continue. Her stitches pulled and tightened. She didn’t care. She had to see for herself or it would always haunt her. The idea of the trust she’d built with Sam breaking, was enough to send fat tears pooling in her eyes. But she gritted her teeth and kept moving. She had to know if the malicious man on the phone was right.

  In one not-so-graceful movement, her feet got tangled in her pole and her body pitched toward the floor. Releasing the pole, she caught herself with her good arm on the bed. Pain shot through her arm like lightning. The pole rocked back and forth until it finally righted itself.

  She froze. If a nurse came in now, she could use the excuse she had to pee, and nobody answered her call, but she’d miss whatever was going on downstairs in the parking lot. She didn’t care if someone walked in, she had to get to that window.

  Her good hand grabbed the pole, but now her legs felt like Jell-O and her lunch began its journey back up to her throat for a reappearance. She fought the urge and pushed her legs to move forward the four more steps it would take to get to the window.

  Doris’s flowers glowed from the setting sun. If she lunged toward the windowsill, it should be wide enough to grasp it, but the flowers might suffer a quick demise.

  Two more steps. Two more steps and she’d know if she’d made a terrible mistake by falling in love with Sam.

  How much did she really know about him? Not enough if he had his arms around another woman.

  One more step. The cold floor felt like ice on her feet. If she stretched out long enough, she could touch the window, but it’d be at the expense of her stitches. Her fingers clenched on her right hand as she gritted her teeth in pain.

  Her vision blurred as she took the last step. She lunged toward the window, grabbing it and narrowly missing the flowers. She no longer cared if a gunman hid in the bushes to tag her. She’d almost welcome it.

  Twilight had set in and the parking lot lights flickered to life. Neatly lined rows of colored cars looked like an ocean as far as the eye could see. Closely manicured and mulched flower beds lined the side of the building and ran along the sidewalk. Most of the leaves on the trees had turned their brilliant shades of oranges and reds and already fallen to the ground, giving her a mostly unimpeded view of the grounds.

  Eyes wide, she searched the sidewalks. They stopped when the backside of a man in blue jeans and boots came into view. As she squinted to pull her vision into focus
, a hot flash wracked the back of her neck. It was her body’s defense against her pain. She white knuckled the marble windowsill but couldn’t look away.

  The man held hands with a tall woman parked illegally next to the curb, helping her into her car. Her long, dark hair and red lipstick stood out, as did her long legs and short skirt. As she slid with grace into the black convertible, the man closed her door. Something shiny on his wrist sparkled in the streetlight. The watch she’d given him for his birthday.

  Sam. Her heart plummeted into her stomach. She fought to see through her tears. Sam must have made a joke because the wench threw her head back to laugh while Sam leaned into the car.

  Her knees shook either from the weight of being on her feet just hours after surgery or with the realization that the man she loved was with another woman. A burning cry settled in her throat. She felt pathetic and pale, watching them. A part of her heart hardened.

  She didn’t need him. They’d been fine before he came along. He hadn’t been a murderer in his old life of crime, but what if he was the manipulative womanizer Saul said he was?

  Dark clouds formed in the corners of her vision. Her gag reflex was fighting itself not to throw up. Sam turned away from the woman, strutting toward the hospital. She must have said something because he stopped mid stride and turned back, jogging to her shiny, black car.

  They exchanged words, he squatted next to her door and then they kissed—and not a quick friendly peck on the cheek—this was a full-on mouth on mouth, passionate kiss.

  She wept.

  She felt like she stood on the edge of a cliff, watching her dream die. The man she loved kissed another woman.

  Enough.

  Sam turned and jogged toward the hospital. Her vision went dark and her knees gave out. Like in a dream, she’d had enough wits about her to fall on her left side, so she didn’t do more damage to her right. Especially since her already popped stitches were on her right side too. She must have hit her head on the way down, because all at once everything was silent and black.

  Chapter Four

  Waking from a dream, a bad dream she decided, was the worst. Her head throbbed. She heard faint, angry voices. Or maybe just one angry voice—Sam’s. He yelled at the nurse or at her or someone, but she could only grasp bits and pieces of his words.

  “...Don’t you monitor your patients?” he spat angrily. “How could this happen? She was probably trying to reach the bathroom and couldn’t get anyone to answer.”

  She heard him dismiss the nurse then walk right back out into the hallway and apologize. Kirin opened one eye. She was back in her hospital bed, lying almost flat with the covers tucked in tight all around to hold her in.

  She shut her good eye while fine-tuning her hearing. Sam walked back in and sat on the side of her bed. His warm hand brushed back her hair. Talking to himself he said, “I should’ve been here. You wouldn’t have fallen if I’d been here.”

  Sam stroked her hand. Hurt, anger and a desire to punch him in the face hit her all at once. It was the same betrayal she’d felt in the safe room when he told her he couldn’t love and protect her at the same time. A disloyal tear spilled over, sprinting down her cheek. It must’ve caught his eye. He stood, holding tight to her hand.

  “Honey, wake up.” He pleaded, “open your eyes.”

  She blinked a few times, letting the light in slow.

  He hugged her and blew out a breath. “Thank God. You okay? I need to get the doctor.”

  “I’m fine.” She spat through tight lips.

  Sam sat back on the bed, his grin turned down.

  “What’s wrong? You all right?”

  “Fine,” she repeated.

  “You were crying when you came to.... Another nightmare?” Sam’s brow furrowed. He’d mentioned a few weeks back, he thought her nightmares were about not trusting him, and it made him angry. He didn’t wait for her answer, but abruptly changed tactics. “What were you doing walking across the room? Did you need something that you couldn’t reach? I was only gone for a short while...”

  She interrupted, “Where’d you go?” The question sounded far more accusing than she’d meant for it to.

  He stammered, “...to grab something to eat. You were asleep, and I was tired of staring at these walls, so I left for a bit.” His eyes shifted. “Why?”

  Since when did he get so shitty at lying? Maybe he’d been that way all along and she’d been too deep in love to see it. She mulled over her plan. She wanted to scream and tell him she knew his secret and she’d seen the kiss, but something told her to bite her tongue. She desperately wanted to know more about this woman.

  As soon as an image of the woman wrapped around her Sam entered her mind, her jaw tightened, and tears formed. How had they met? This woman couldn’t be another client to protect since The Club had been disbanded months ago. But how long had she been in the dark?

  She turned toward the window and answered so he couldn’t see her eyes. “No reason.”

  Sam scooted closer to her. Then he wrapped warm hands around her face forcing her to look at him. “Kirin Lane—don’t you ever scare me like that again. You know you’re the love of my life and I can’t live without you.” Sam kissed her forehead and then scooped her up in an embrace. She cried silent tears.

  Her mind had already begun making lists and planning how she and the boys would pick up their lives right where they were when they’d met Sam. He’d go his own way and never look back and that was simply fine with her. She didn’t want to envision how negatively this would affect her boys, especially Will. She could already see the disappointment in his face when she told him Sam wouldn’t be coming back.

  She had to clear her mind as he held her for what, most likely, was the last time.

  ~*~

  The next morning, a sea of people flowed in and out of her room. Doctors and nurses came in to ensure she hadn’t injured herself further and to scold her for getting out of bed too soon. Her head pounded, and her body was sore, but other than that, she was more than ready to be released. The image of Sam and the woman ran through her mind, making her angrier and angrier. She wasn’t going to be able to stay silent for much longer.

  Sam was ultra-attentive. She couldn’t even reach for something that he wasn’t right there handling it. Guilt, she decided, was driving him now.

  When the shift changed occurred right after lunch, Sam left to run errands and pick up the boys before bringing them up to see her. Her newbie nurse, Angie, seemed nervous taking care of her. She’d been told by the head of the hospital, that Kirin was her most important patient, and she was to tend to her every need. Kirin seized the opportunity of the new nurse’s inexperience and convinced her to help with a visit to Laura’s room.

  Angie loaded Kirin up in the wheelchair, along with her IV, and they traveled down the back deserted hallways, unseen. Kirin was wrapped up tight in a blanket. Laura’s husband Adam sat on a bench outside her room while nurses inside changed out her fluids, her clothing, and her sheets. He looked terrible. His face was ashen, and his puffy, red eyes told her he’d been by her side every second.

  Adam glanced up and looked horrified when he saw her. She’d forgotten how awful she must look. Adam rose and walked toward her.

  “Kirin.” He said wearily, “Good God. Look what they did to you. I’m so sorry dear.” Adam said, hugging her gently.

  “I’m all right.” She said, knowing she was far from it. “How is she?”

  Adam looked down at his hands, “Same.”

  “She hasn’t woken up at all?” Her tone sounded small.

  “No. I had hoped that my voice, or the kids’ voices, would trigger something, but I’m told it doesn’t work that way. Her brain is still swollen from the blast. The docs think both of you flew back around fifteen feet or so from the windows in the blast. She just happened to land on her head.”

  Adam looked around to see if the nurses were listening and whispered conspiratorially, “She flutters her eyes when
I talk. It’s like she understands whatever I am babbling about, but she doesn’t open her eyes or speak. But they don’t believe me.” He thumbed back toward the nurses. When his voice cracked at the end, she reached out and grabbed his hand.

  “They’ll do everything in their power to help her, Adam.”

  He stared at her like he was trying hard to believe her words. She squeezed his hand and added, “She’s family—one of their own—and they’ll fight for her, don’t you worry. Only the best docs will be on her case and they’ll go the extra mile and turn every stone to find out why she’s still unresponsive.”

  Adam sighed, “I know. They’ve done so much already. Sam has been amazing. He’s been in here a bunch...carted off flowers that some wacko sent and even had some of his TWRA guys standing outside just as an extra precaution.”

  “Wait...what? What flowers?” Adam continued to talk, not catching on to the fact that Sam had shared none of this with her.

  “Oh, just some weirdo sent us flowers with some odd message on the inside. You’ll have to get Sam to tell you about it. He’d remember what it said.” Adam ran his hands through his hair and shook his head, “My mind is fried.”

  Two familiar nurses came out of the room and spotted Kirin. She recognized them from the halls. They hugged her and eyeballed Angie as if to say, “Why is this patient out of bed?” But her nurse just smiled naively.

  Angie wheeled Kirin into Laura’s room then excused herself to go back and check on some pain meds that were overdue. Adam followed Kirin into the room. It felt like a funeral. The only noise was the beeping of her heart monitor.