Find Me in Manhattan (Finding #3) (21 page)

Just as I felt the first tear drip down my nose, I heard, “Family of Sarah Grant!”

I quickly dashed the back of my hand across my face, erasing any traces of wetness and weakness. The older nurse nodded when I approached. I followed her to a room noting Lana, Moretti, and Phil following behind me.

She stopped at a door where the sweet sound of an unmistakable Southern accent breezed through the open door. “Oh, please. My Aunt Linda will fix me up right. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing.”

The nurse waved us into a dimly lit room, and I nervously stepped in first. Sarah was sitting up on the bed dressed in scrubs while another nurse tried to fix her hair. When Sarah saw us standing there, she turned to me. “Michael!” The nurse immediately halted her attempts to fix Sarah’s bloody hair. Sarah turned to her. “Thanks, Marsha. He’s seen it now. No sense in worryin’ about it.” She shifted the ice pack back on her head and focused her eyes back on us.

Marsha, the portly nurse, smiled kindly at Sarah and told her to let her know if she needed anything else before quietly exiting the room. Lana darted over to Sarah’s bedside and took a good look at her head. “Damn. No wonder there was so much blood.” I cringed at the memory of the red staining her hair and the floor around her head. Seeing her sitting up was unexpected. “I knew head wounds bled profusely, but I would have never expected that.” Lana echoed my thoughts. “With everything that was pouring out of you, I thought you needed a blood transfusion or brain surgery or something. Jesus. How are you sitting here like nothing happened?” She didn’t look like nothing happened. Her blond hair was covered in dried blood. Her eyes looked heavy and tired.

“It’s just some stitches and a concussion. Nothing I can’t deal with. Seth has had a bunch of concussions. I cut his stitches out of his arm when we were twelve then again when we were seventeen. Don’t look so worried, y’all.”

Moretti clapped his hands as if that small gesture released all the stress he’d built up over the evening. “Well, the good news is the son of a bitch is in jail. The five-oh had picked him up minutes before the EMT arrived.”

Sarah’s eyes met mine, and I only saw a clear expression of confusion.

“Whew! I need a drink.” Lana hopped off the bed and curled herself around Moretti once more while discreetly wiping her face clear of the tears staining her cheeks with black make-up. “When can we spring you from this joint?” she asked when she turned back to Sarah.

“Oh. Uhh…I’m not sure. They took me for a CT scan after I threw up all over the doctor. Marsha was nice enough to bring me scrubs after she saw… well, never mind.” Her pale cheeks turned pink. “Anyway, the doctor wants to make sure I don’t have a contusion or a subdural hema…hemo…homo…no, that can’t be right. I can’t remember. They gave me something for the pain, but I had a headache, have a headache. They gave me something to take, though,” she repeated.

“Hey guys, can you give us a minute?” I finally asked.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah.” Lana winked. I didn’t know if I was unusually perceptive or if Lana was blind to see what was wrong, but obviously, Sarah was not in her right mind.

“Glad you’re okay,” Phil told Sarah just before he wheeled out leading Lana and Moretti down the hall back to the waiting room, I assumed.

Once we were alone, I cautiously sat next to her in the hard hospital chair at the side of the bed. “Hey,” she whispered.

I took her hands in mine and rubbed my thumbs across the top. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered without lifting my eyes to hers. “I’m so sorry I was late.”

“Hey.” When I didn’t move, she lifted my chin with her hand. “Hey. What are you talking about?”

Now it was me who was confused.

“What do you mean? This wasn’t your fault. I hit my head. It could happen to anyone, Michael.”

“You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?” she frowned.

“Sarah, Jameson did this to you. He was in your apartment.” I couldn’t hold back anymore. I dropped my forehead to her hands and started to sob. “I was too late, and then I froze. I froze when I should have been helping you. I couldn’t move. You were bleeding, and I blacked out. Suddenly, I was back there, and I couldn’t get to you.”

“Michael, stop. This isn’t your fault. Stop. Please, stop!” She lifted my head and pressed her lips to mine. “Oh, God. Sorry. I forgot. I threw up on the doctor. I shouldn’t kiss you.” After pulling away too quickly, she winced and pressed her hands to her forehead. “They gave me something for my headache, but it hurts.”

“Of course, it does. Lie down while we wait for them to come back and give us the results of your tests.” I gently guided the uninjured side of her head to the pillow then helped her with the ice pack. “Put this back on there.” Even if I couldn’t save her, at least I wasn’t completely useless.

“Don’t leave me.” She looked scared and incredibly delicate at that moment. I was sure it was the first time she had allowed herself to be vulnerable without trying to cover it with anger or jokes. After everything, my beautiful, sweet Sarah might have finally been broken.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised her, even knowing then that the promise had a time limit.

Sarah

I woke up when a doctor came to check on me again. I heard her explaining something to someone, but everything was a little blurry, and I couldn’t concentrate on her words with the splitting pain in my head. She kept talking to me, and I picked out words, but it sounded like, “Blah, blah, headache, blah, blah, rest, blah, blah, ice, blah, blah, call if, blah, blah, blah.” I wanted to yell at her to shut up. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, and it was really ticking me off.

Finally, ol’ nasal voice left the room, and I tried to close my eyes again. Michael stopped me. “Oh, no you don’t. They released you.”

“I can go home?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Where do you want to go?” He seemed wary, reluctant almost.

“Your place?” A week ago, I wouldn’t have phrased it as a question, but I was feeling unsure now. I didn’t know if it was my headache affecting my perception or what, but something was off.

He scratched his stubbly chin before speaking. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sarah.”

I sat up too quickly, causing my head to spin. I held it in my hands as if that would stop my brain from swimming in my skull. “What? What do you mean?”

“I just think, maybe, you should…I don’t think you should come to my place.”

“Michael, say what you mean!” The anger in my voice was undeniable and a little unlike me. I wasn’t speaking to my brother. This was Michael, the man I loved. I flew back to New York to confess my feelings for him, but he was pushing me away, and I didn’t know why.

“Sarah, let’s talk when you’re feeling better.”

“I feel fine.” That was a lie, but what did it matter? “Tell me what’s going on.” He sat in that stupid teal colored chair silently until I couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re not going to say anything? You’re just going to let me sit here and think the worst, aren’t you? When did you become such a coward?” Whoever was inside my body making me speak was mad and not afraid to show it. I knew I would regret those words, but I couldn’t stop them from spewing from my hateful mouth.

“I told you that I wouldn’t be able to do this. I warned you.” He spoke so quietly I almost couldn’t hear him. I had hoped I was mistaken, but the look on his face confirmed my suspicions.

“I don’t understand.”

“Sarah, I-”

Before he could finish what he was saying, the door to my room flew open, and my mother was rushing in the room falling all over me. “Sarah Elizabeth!” she cried. “Why didn’t you tell us? Why do we hear from Seth that some man hurt you? Oh, goodness! There’s so much blood in your hair.” She gasped loudly when she found the stitches. “Steve! Steve! Get in here!” Mama was yelling down the hall, and before I knew it, Daddy was in the room.

“What’s it take to get a doctor in this godforsaken place?”

“Daddy,” I cried out, embarrassed by his behavior.

“Not right now, Sarah. I’ll deal with you later.”

“Daddy,” I tried again but received an angry glare in response.

Mama cried quietly next to me, and when I chanced a glance at Michael, he stood awkwardly to the side.

The nasal voice doctor came in the room with my paperwork, and a rapid-fire conversation took place between her and Daddy. I didn’t really understand what all was happening, but soon, I was being ushered out of the hospital into the middle seat of a cab leaving Michael on the sidewalk staring down at his toes. He did nothing to keep me with him this time. That told me everything I needed to know.

“Daddy.” I spoke timidly this time.

“We’re packing your things and taking you home. Seth is already at your apartment with your roommate. I already read him the riot act, and when your mama says you’re all right, you’ll listen to it, too, young lady.”

I leaned into my mom’s arms as she tried to soothe me. By the time we were at my apartment, I was exhausted. It was morning now, and rush hour, which was really rush century in New York, was in full effect. We took the elevator to my floor because I didn’t think I could even climb one stair, let alone a flight. All I wanted to do was take a nap in Michael’s arms, but it didn’t appear that I would be getting what I wanted on this day.

“You sit, Sarah,” Daddy commanded as he took in my apartment. “Mama and I are going to help Seth then we’re all goin’ home.”

Lana came out of my room passing my daddy and skittered off to her room with a mouthed apology. She told me once that she didn’t do parents, so I wasn’t surprised by her avoidance of my six-foot-four, angry as a bear with a stick up his butt father. What did surprise me was when Seth came out of my room looking properly chastised. He dropped on the couch next to me and pulled me into his arms.

“You need a shower, sister.”

“You need to learn to keep your damn mouth shut.”

“What was I supposed to do? Daddy would have known something was up when I caught an emergency flight out of Birmingham in the middle of the night.”

“Lie!”

“You were in the hospital! Don’t you think I got an earful? I think the whole plane knew I was in trouble.”

“God. I’m so glad I wasn’t on that flight.”

“Trust me; the flight attendants regretted working that flight. I thought Mama was going to die of humiliation, but she just kept crying that her daughter was in the hospital. It was awful.”

I gazed up at my brother who looked beyond tired and worried. “Michael doesn’t want me.”

“What are you talkin’ ‘bout?”

“He didn’t try to keep me here even though Tony said they locked Jameson up. Michael said he did this, but I don’t really remember it all. The nurse just thought I fell. I don’t recall how it all happened.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged.

“Go. Take a shower. Daddy’s gonna want to leave as soon as Mama has your stuff packed.”

“I’m surprised they’re letting me bring anything home.”

Seth looked like he had something to say but didn’t want to tell me. I knew that stupid look, and he knew I could get it out of him in no time. He was a wimp when it came to titty twisters.

“What, Seth?”

“Shower.” He pointed.

I lifted my fingers prepared to pinch him when he said, “Daddy wants to make sure you have no reason to come back. They’ll leave nothing behind.”

“Shit.” I ran from the room and climbed into the shower as quickly as I could, ignoring the pounding in my head. I tried not to get my hair too wet, and I knew I couldn’t wash where the stitches were yet. It was the one thing I remembered hearing the nurse say. Marla, Maria, something like that…I couldn’t remember her name. The red that streamed from my hair had my stomach rolling, and if I hadn’t been able to breathe through the need to heave, I would have been stuck in that shower all day.

I dried off quickly and threw my bathrobe over my bruised body, thankful no one had thought to pack my bath stuff yet. I wasn’t sure how I was going to sneak past my father or convince him to let me go do what I needed to do, but I had to talk to Michael before my parents dragged me back to ‘Bama. Funnily enough, I wasn’t so worried about going back to the farm. Maybe I thought Michael would save me from that fate. Maybe I thought if Michael wanted me then I could convince my father that everything was going to be fine. I didn’t know. All I knew was that even though the pain throbbing in my head made me feel like my brain was going to explode, I needed to see Michael.

Michael

I was a complete fuck up.

Seconds late identifying the IED.

Minutes late arriving at Sarah’s.

The boom.

The ringing.

The screams.

The fire.

The burning.

The blood.

Her hair.

Her cry.

Her tears.

Her pain.

Her leaving.

Me drinking.

Me crumbling.

Me surviving.

Me dying.

Struggle.

Drown.

Suffer.

Hide.

Darkness.

Black.

Black.

Begging for black.