Redemption (Book 3) The Fixer Series (8 page)

"Dylan," she said, as she began to cry.

"It's okay, baby.  I'm here.  I'm not going anywhere," I replied, rubbing her cheek.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed.  "It's just...everything.  My
mom, dad...Steph."

"I know, baby.  I know.  We don't have to talk about it
, right now."

"But
, I want to.  I need to tell you, Dylan.  I don't want any more secrets."

"I don't know if right now is a good time, Brooke.  I really think you need to rest."

"Damn it, Dylan!   You're pissing me off!  I'm not a helpless child.  Just sit your ass down in that chair and listen to what I have to say."

I had now been bitched out by the two most important women in my life.  My wife
, and my mother.  I didn't argue.  I did as she asked and sat in the chair next to her bed.  I didn't know what I was in for, but I was concerned that whatever she had to tell me might cause her to have another mental breakdown.  Then again, I wasn't sure I
really
wanted to hear what she had to say.   It was easier pretending that everything was fine and that our life was going to be one, great, big fairytale.  In reality, I knew that wasn't the case, but fuck, if I didn't want it to be.

"I'm all ears,
Princess.  Tell me what's on your mind."

"Dylan...I did terrible things.  I'm pretty sure that after you hear what I've done, you will want absolutely, nothing to do with me
, anymore."

"I'm not sure I understand.  There is nothing in this world that can take me away from you, other than death.  Do you hear me?  Can you trust me enough, to tell me your secrets?"

"I don't know.  I've been away for a long time, and returning home has been really hard for me.  And what about you, Dylan?  What about your secrets?  Do you trust me enough to tell me yours?"

"I trust you with my life, Brooke.  I haven't said anything, because I know that you have enough to deal with at the moment.  What I have to share, can wait."

"You're wrong.  I know there is something bothering you.  I could sense it when we were in the hospital back in Prague.  I didn't press you about it, because I figured you needed time to sort through whatever it was.  I often wondered how it was that you got shot, when Alexi and Tristan had reassured me that you'd be okay.  Then I found out you weren't.  What the hell happened at Kristof's after I'd been rescued!!?"

"This isn't the time or place for this conversation, Brooke."

"Why won't you tell me?  You expect me to spill my all of my ugly secrets to you, but you don't want to share anything about yourself with me."

"That's not it.  I can't risk telling you anything here.  There could be serious legal ramifications if someone overheard."

Are you still
fixing,
Dylan?"

"What?  No.  Where the hell is that coming from?"

"I know that's what started all of this.  I know that's why you won't talk to me."

"Stop, Brooke.  We are not having any more of these little talks until you get the help you need, and I feel like I can talk to you without being backed in a corner.  Let's just focus on getting you out of here and back to the life you once knew."     

"Do you honestly think you can
fix
me, Dylan?"

"I will do whatever I can to bring you back to me.  No matter what it takes."

"You might be waiting a long time, Cowboy.  I hope you're saddled up, because you're in for one hell of a ride."

"Don't you worry, I'm ready for whatever your dishing out.
  I'm going to step out for a few, and let the others know that you're going to alright."

"Who all is here?"

"Everyone."

"Is Thomas here
, too?"

I gave her an odd look, because the
question struck me as strange, much like in the car.  "No, Princess.  Thomas is missing, remember?  We don't know where he is.  The only people here are our mother's, Tristan and Stephanie."

"I don't want to see any of them.  Only you."

"I understand, and I hear you loud and clear.  I need you to do something for me, though.  Do you think you can do it?"

She nodded her head and then raised her bandaged hands, reaching for a hug.
I wrapped my arms around her and whispered in her ear, "Please close your eyes and get some sleep." 

She agreed
, and I left the room to go tell the others that she was going to be fine.  It felt like a lie, but one that I needed to be told, so that we could hang onto any hope that we had.     

Brooke   

 
Dylan left me to be alone with my thoughts.  I was going crazing inside, not being able to tell him what I needed to.  I told him I trusted him, but deep down inside, I trusted no one.  His inability to share with me, didn't make it any easier.

He had returned shortly after he'd left to tell me that I would be spending the next
three days in the psych ward and that visits from the outside would be prohibited.  I suppose I had earned that stay, after I'd gone ape-shit in the bathroom at home.  I didn't deny that I needed help, I just didn't know where to turn to get it. 

No matter how I tried to talk to him, it all came out as if I was accusing him of something. 
The more I thought about it, I guess I was.  I was angry that he had promised to take care of me and keep me safe, but he didn't.  Logically, I knew that he couldn't.  There was no way he could have foreseen the events that had taken place back in Ireland.  But a part of me hated him for leaving me alone in that garden. 

I was taken to my room on the fourth floor of St. Joseph's Hospital
and locked in.  The walls were white and the windows had bars on them.  There was nothing welcoming or warm about where I would spend the next three days.  The only comforting thing about the room was the view of the city lights through the barred window.  I had seen them shining like this before, on the night I first stayed at Dylan's penthouse.  I suddenly missed him.  I wanted to be in his arms and have him hold me tight and tell me that everything was going to be alright.  I needed the reassurance that our love was strong enough to keep us bonded together. 

It was times like this,
when I felt the loneliest.  It took me to a dark place, a time when I was a small child, left to try and sort my feelings of guilt and inadequacy on my own.  I had no real guidance from either one of my parents.  One would abuse, while the other turned away.  How could my mother not have known what kind of a monster my father was?  I had wanted to ask that question for so many years, but out of respect for my parents, I didn't. 

I now understood that by never saying anything or standing up for myself, I allowed myself
, once again, to be a victim.  I vowed at that moment, that I would never allow someone to victimize me, again.   I was a survivor, and I would survive this too.  I just needed an outsider to help me get there and sort through all the mixed-up shit in my head.

I stood
, watching the lights chase the night until I could no longer keep my eyes open.  My feet were cold on the concrete floor and the gown I wore was less than attractive.  My hands hurt like hell and the only thing I could think of was that song,
Hurt
by Nine Inch Nails.  That pretty much summed up how I 'd been feeling most of my life.  I walked over to the bed and laid down.  It was so hard and hurt my back, but I was tired.  Tired of fighting, hating and now, I just wanted to go to sleep and forget it all.  And that's exactly what I did, and for the first time, in a long time, I actually slept. 

The next morning, I woke feeling very tired and empty.  Most people probably wouldn't understand the feeling of emptiness, but I knew it all too well.  I was void of any care and felt like I had nothing left to give or receive.  I knew I was going to have to fight my way back to a normal life, that 's if my life could even return to a normal state.  At this point, I figured that being able to function
as a normal member of society, would be a fucking victory. 

A young nurse called my name
, and I went to the window where they were handing out medication. 

"What is it?" I asked.

"Pain medication for your hands," she replied.

I took the little, white paper
cup that held my pill, and washed it down with water that was provided next to it.  Nothing here was normal.  The way medication was handed out was like a factory.  They would call your name, you walked up, got your meds and then went and sat in the big room.  Everyone was dressed in a hospital gown and wore the same brown, hospital-issued socks.  There was a worn-out, blue couch centered in the middle of the room that faced a television set.  To the left, was a foosball table with wooden chairs in the corners.  The sunlight shown through the large barred windows, where no blinds or curtains provided shade from the glare that reflected off the glass of the nurse's station.

I chose to stand against the window, looking out.  My view now overlooked, what I assumed to be the employee parking lot. 
The spot I had chosen was warm, and it made me feel less like a wild animal trapped in a cage. 

I
suddenly heard a slight commotion in the nurse's station, and as I turned to look, I caught a glimpse of the most beautiful man I'd ever seen.  He was tall, with short, chocolate brown hair.  Strong and gorgeous, his blue eyes searching with a hint of sadness in them.  I knew the look all too well and I knew that the man I was seeing, was mine.  My body tightened at the sight of him as excitement surged through me.  I was completely enthralled by the way he carried himself, so much so, I didn't notice the short, chubby man standing next to him.

I was confused.  Dylan had said that he wouldn't be able to visit while I was on the psych ward. 
I started to panic.  Something must have happened.   I quickly noticed that he was dressed in a suit, and Dylan never wore a suit unless he was going to work or a funeral.  I ran over to the nurse's station and pounded on the window.  I quickly fell to the floor, crying when I realized what I had done.  My hands were screaming at me in pain.  Dylan quickly flung the door open, sat down and held me in his lap, rocking me back and forth, just as he did when I'd first cut myself. 

"
Shh, baby.  Everything's alright.  Let me see your hands."

I showed him and
luckily, I hadn't caused any new injuries.  I needed to be more careful.  I'd never realized how much one used their hands. 

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I came to check on you.  Dr. Marks is a family friend and I wanted him to take a look at your chart."

"Oh," I sniffled.

"I'm trying to see if we can get you out of here and into his care."

"Please don't lock me up, Dylan."

"I can't promise that, Brooke.  You're not well and that's why Dr. Marks is here.  He's putting together a treatment plan for you."

I placed my head on his shoul
der.  "Okay.  But why are you all dressed up?"

He laughed,
"My brother's in town and we're meeting to discuss business."

"Are you going into the office?"

"More than likely, yes.  Why do you ask?"

"Will Misty be there?"

"Misty?  Where the hell did that come from?  Brooke, you know you have nothing to worry about with her.  You and I are married for fuck's sake."

"I don't trust her.  I remember what she tried to do to us."

"But she didn't, remember?  We're together.  You're the only one I want to spend the rest of my life with."

"I know, I just don't want her around what's mine.  And you know she'll try."

"I highly doubt that, sweetheart.  You forget that I've been gone a long time too.  I'm sure she's moved on, by now.  Just as we need to."

"If you say so, but I still don't trust her.  I didn't trust that bitch from the first time I met her."

"Back then, you had good reason not to trust her.  But now, that should no longer be our concern.  Let's get you well and back home.  Let me worry about everything else."

"Okay, just promise not to forget about me in here."

"I could never forget you, Princess.  I love you."

"I lo
ve you, too," I said, placing a soft kiss on the lips. 

Dylan grabbed me around the waist and pushed me up off his lap.  Once standing, I tried to help him get up, but my hands and arms were in no condition to be grabbed.  I starting laughing and he pushed me against a nearby wall.  He whispered in my ear, setting my body on fire, "There's my girl.  I love you, baby.  Don't ever doubt my love for you." 

I gave a faint moan and whispered softly as I kissed his neck.  "I love you, too.   Forever."

"I have to go, Brooke.  Dr. Marks will meet with you later today.  Be honest with him, he's here to help you."

"See ya, Cowboy," I said, walking back toward the window.  I turned to see if I could catch another glimpse of him, but he was gone.