Spectacularly Broken (20 page)

When had I left the pool?

“Is his cousin all right?”

Everything was so foggy, everything after the hospital. I remembered being dragged through hallways. Boarding a plane, stumbling on a step. Clouds. Streets. Pool water.

“I don’t know. I haven’t asked. I’ve been very busy.”

What the hell was wrong with me?

* * * *

My bed was warm and safe, and I never wanted to leave it again. I patted myself on the back because that sounded like an excellent plan.

Unfortunately, my resolve was sorely tested by Sheri and by my father. Even now, I heard footsteps out in the corridor, a sharp knock on the door.

“Lysander, your friend is here to see you.”

Friend? I had a friend?

I turned my head and stared toward the door, where my father stood. He had a hand on Sawyer’s shoulder and was guiding him into the room. Sawyer himself looked confused and uncomfortable.

“Um, hey, Lysander,” he muttered, running his fingers through his dark blond curls while he studied me. “Whatcha been up to?”

I didn’t want blond curls. I wanted sleek, dark hair, short and styled to perfection. I wanted piercings and scars and the smell of hair product.

“Jeez.” Squinting at me, Sawyer came a few steps closer. “What fucked you up? What happened to your hair? You really do look terrible.”

“Thanks, same to you,” I mumbled.

My father sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s the first thing he’s said in days.”

Sawyer frowned and sat at the edge of my bed. “What the hell, man? You need to get out or something. Come over to Logan’s with me. He’s got—” He turned his head away slightly, glancing at my dad. “It’ll be fun.”

I shook my head and threw my arm across my face to cover my eyes. “Go away,” I whispered.

Then I tuned him out.

I wasn’t aware of much of anything until a warm hand touched my forearm. I allowed it to be pulled away from my face, blinking as the light hit my eyes.

“Lysander, I’m getting really worried about you,” my dad told me. “Please talk to me. Say something.”

Joel Shepherd, worried about his son. Alert the media.

“How’s Finn?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Janice called a couple of days ago, just before I flew home. She said he was awake. That’s probably good.”

“Probably,” I agreed drily.

“Lysander, will you please tell me what’s going on?” He stared down at me. His highly marketable angular face was expressionless, but there was something in his eyes I wasn’t used to seeing there. I met his stare with one of my own and found myself wondering if he had any idea at all why I had turned out the way I had and if he had ever figured out why our relationship was so abysmally shitty.

Probably not. I wasn’t gonna get my hopes up.

“Do you want to visit him?”

I blinked, thrown by the question. “Finn?”

“Yes. Do you want to fly out and visit him?”

“Can I?”

I sounded about five years old, and at that moment I felt like it too. I wasn’t sure why. Except that my cousin was probably the only person in the world I could talk to about what had happened. The only one who might possibly understand.

My vision blurred. The hand on my arm tightened briefly while I tried to fight the tears. I didn’t want my dad to see them, to see me so damn weak.

“I’ll book a flight,” he said.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I hadn’t expected him to come with me. Then again, I hadn’t expected him to let me visit Finn in the first place. Apparently Joel Shepherd was, in fact, capable of feeling emotions such as worry.

I know, I was shocked as hell too.

But I stayed numb and silent all the way through the trip, until both of us passed through the main entrance of the hospital in which I’d spent that one agonizing night. The memory made me shudder even now. Looks followed us through the lobby, through the hallways, all the way to Finn’s room, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t become used to that years ago. Joel Shepherd was a big name. Nurses gasped and whispered. It was one of the many reasons I preferred never to go anywhere in the company of my dad. Ridiculous enough that he wore a baseball cap as though that would render him unrecognizable.

Aunt Janice was sitting by my cousin’s bedside when we entered. Finn himself looked surprisingly well, sitting up in bed, beaming as soon as he laid eyes on me. His head still bore a resemblance to half a mummy costume, but there was color in his face and life in his eyes. I had never been more glad to see him.

“Lys.” He grinned and raised his arms. “About freaking time.”

I threw myself at him and hugged him exuberantly. I felt good. For the first time in days, I felt real, tangible positive emotion. I felt relief because he was okay, joy because he was looking so well, comfort because it was Finn and he made it a point to try to understand me. He made it a point to listen. I needed this. And hopefully, talking would do him good too.

After settling comfortably on the edge of Finn’s bed—or at least as comfortably as was possible with a hospital bed—I glanced at my dad and Aunt Janice and realized they were both staring.

“I didn’t realize you two got along so well,” Finn’s mom said.

My dad just stared, but there was a measure of relief in his expression. I assumed it had something to do with the fact that I had suddenly left the shell-shocked state of mind I’d been lost in ever since he had taken me home.

“Are you kidding? We’re basically BFFs,” Finn said with a straight face. “Right, Lys?”

“I don’t know if I can be BFFs with someone who uses the term
BFF
,” I replied, equally as serious.

“I have a hole in my skull. That’s my excuse.” Finn looked at me smugly.

“Yeah, okay, you can milk that one for all it’s worth. Holy crap, you’re in a good mood.”

“I know. I’m hopped up on painkillers.” He grinned and turned to my dad and Janice. “Could you give us a moment? Grab me some juice, please?”

His mother looked reluctant, but my dad was surprisingly willing to leave the two of us alone. He took his sister’s arm and tugged gently until she followed him into the corridor. The door snapped shut behind them.

I sagged. No matter how happy I was to see Finn, the past several days continued to weigh heavily on me.

“Has he been giving you a hard time?” Finn asked.

“No. It’s been okay.” I lowered my eyes and stared at the bedsheets I had clutched. “I think he’s actually kind of concerned. It’s bizarre.”

“I think it indicates a major issue if your only parent being concerned about you is classified as
bizarre
,” Finn said. “But that’s not your fault, and it’s not that important right now anyway. How are you?”

Fucking miserable
, I wanted to answer. The words stuck in my throat. I only shook my head when he put an arm around me.

“Lys…” He sounded hesitant. “Have you talked to Cai at all?”

Once more I shook my head. This time I couldn’t shake off the misery I felt. Being in the hospital had brought the raw memory right back to the forefront of my mind.

“Cai…”

Wide brown eyes, a blank stare. The hallway suddenly stretching for miles between us. Me, taking one tentative step.

“Cai…”

He met my gaze without emotion. Shook his head minutely, stepped back.

“Cai, please, let me explain.”

Those vulnerable eyes closed, squeezed shut as if he was in pain, and he turned away.

“It’s my fucking fault,” I said hoarsely. “I hurt him. I
hurt
him, Finn.”

“It wasn’t just your fault, Lys.” Finn’s forehead creased. “I’m just as guilty, and neither of us meant to… Ah, fuck. I’m so sorry.”

“Part of me wants to go see if he’ll talk to me,” I told him. “Beg him if I have to. I just don’t know if… What?”

Finn’s body had gone taut. His face fell further as he bit his lip.

“I…well, I suppose you couldn’t have known. He isn’t at Oak Hill Manor anymore. He wanted to go home, so they let him. He left a couple of days ago.”

I stared at him blankly.

Cai was gone. And part of me had expected it, had realized days ago that we were
done
, that there was no chance left for me. That I’d fucked up, irrevocably and beyond repair.

“Lexa said he just shut down after you left. That he didn’t even talk to anyone anymore.”

I didn’t realize I was crying until Finn flung his arm around me and pulled me close. I put my head on his shoulder, and suddenly the sobs tore free. I cried for all I’d had and lost in such a short time. I cried because I was ashamed, because I’d failed at being a decent human being, because everything was so screwed up. And then I cried for Lexa and Finn and Jarett and Nicky because of all they’d been through, because I wanted to help them and couldn’t. I cried because I no longer belonged anywhere, because I had no idea who I was and the mere thought terrified me.

“Shit, Lys, I’m sorry,” Finn was whispering, over and over again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

I cried until my eyes burned and a pounding headache had begun to spread through my skull. My shirt was wet, and so was Finn’s. When I pulled away, he used the corner of his sheet to wipe the worst of the snot off my face.

“You want to hear something that’ll cheer you up?” he asked, a sad little smile on his face.

“Yeah, sure.” I put my head back on his shoulder, sniffling.

“Lane’s got chlamydia.”

I blinked, feeling my still-wet eyelashes sticking. “Are you serious?”

“Uh-huh.” He extracted himself carefully in order to grab the water glass that was standing on his bedside table, then handed it to me. I took it and drank gratefully. “He’s not exactly stellar about using protection. And apparently Rachel—that’s my ex—has been cheating on him.”

When I snorted, he responded with a weak grin. “I know, shocking, right? Who’d have thought?”

“It would have been better if he’d gotten the one where your junk rots off.” I handed the water back to him.

“There’s an STD that rots your genitals?” Finn wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think I want to know.”

“Yeah, me either.”

I spotted movement in the corner of my eye. My dad had returned. He stepped into the room, spotted me, and froze.

“Hi,” I croaked, looking at him with eyes that were more than likely puffy and red-rimmed. I sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward for having been too upset to bother with makeup that morning.

“Lysander,” he started, then seemed to run out of words. I wasn’t surprised. I had never in my life cried in front of him. I had to be quite a sight.

“Anyway,” Finn said. “I’m glad you came to visit me.” He was smiling, but there was strain on his face that was getting more prominent. He carefully leaned back against his pillows. “I think I need to rest for a bit. Are you coming back tomorrow?”

I threw my dad a questioning look.

“I got us a hotel room for the night,” he confirmed.

“Oh, good.” Finn patted my hand. His voice had gotten weak and a little shaky. “We’ll talk more then, okay? I can’t think when my brain is exploding.” With that, he closed his eyes.

* * * *

By “hotel room,” my father naturally meant a luxury suite. I was actually glad for it because expensive rooms usually have great mattresses that don’t kill your spine upon contact, and I needed sleep very badly.

I was used to the opulence, to my dad drawing stares, to hiding my face and watching for cameras when I was in public. What I wasn’t used to was being alone with my dad while that happened. There was always someone around: his driver, his PA, his agent, his bodyguard—yes, he actually does have a personal one on call. But right now the two of us were on our own. It was a bizarre feeling to be sitting next to him while he navigated the city streets in the rented Beemer, frowning at his phone as he followed the GPS directions.

We didn’t talk. Not like that was out of the ordinary.

Once in the suite, I dropped the backpack I’d thrown together that morning on the floor. “I’m taking a shower,” I informed my dad, who did not reply.

The hot water managed to ease the tension in my shoulders a bit. I got clean, rinsed, and exited the bathroom wrapped in one fluffy towel while drying my hair with another. My father, who had been leafing through the complimentary magazine selection, looked up. There was an awkward bit of silence.

He then asked the most rhetorical question in the universe: “All done?”

“Looks that way,” I replied flippantly. Dropping onto the couch, I tossed the hair towel over one shoulder. The cut was still way too short to do any real styling, so I did nothing but run my fingers through it with what was probably a peeved expression on my face.

“Why did you cut your hair anyway?” my father inquired.

Was he making conversation? That was different.

“To look more like Finn does on his driver’s license. And less like me.”

He gave me a faintly amused once-over.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Doesn’t seem like you,” he mused.

“How would you know?”

I couldn’t have stopped my pointed reply for the world. He looked a little taken aback but caught himself right away and put on a more neutral face. In the tense silence that followed, I finished toweling myself dry. I went and changed into shorts and a tank top to sleep in. When I reentered the room, my father had turned on the television. It was probably a better idea than his attempt to chat. With a sigh, I dropped down on the other end of the couch and got comfortable.

For half an hour, we stared at the screen, neither of us reacting even once to the episode of
Jeopardy
we were watching. The only reason I stayed in the room was that this was preferable to being alone with nothing but my thoughts to distract me.

As soon as the credits rolled, my father reached for the remote and decisively pressed the Off button.

“I don’t understand you, Lysander,” he said into the silence that followed.

It was his second attempt at an actual conversation, which was starting to weird me out something fierce. I was not used to this. At least his usual indifference was familiar to me.