26. Sam
Chapter 26
T he hospital lets me in once I show proof of pack registration. It probably helps that I’m not dragging around an unbonded omega, but fuck them. I miss Teddy already. The beta at the desk finally buzzes me in and gives me directions to the third floor in the north tower. By the time I finally give up and ask for directions, again, I’m all kinds of turned around.
Thankfully, a young woman pushing a cart full of dinner trays takes pity on me and takes me directly to his room. Garret lies in bed, his face pale and washed out, a square bandage taped over his right temple at the edge of his hairline. When I sit down in the chair by his bedside, his eyes crack open .
His voice is a hoarse mumble, and it sounds like he’s been under for days instead of just a few hours. “Sam! Wow…I missed you. Is Kelly here? I could use a hug right about now. And she just smells so good. I wanna bury my face against her neck and just sleep. My head hurts…wait why does my head hurt?” His voice takes on an edge of panic. “Sam…Sam, where are we? I…why are you here? I thought…”
Reaching across the flailing alpha, I push the nurse call button. I need to find out what’s going on. Or at least figure out why the hell he’s losing his shit. Did he smack his head hard enough to lose his memory? I’m holding his hand, trying to calm him down when a nurse comes in a few minutes later. He takes in our joined hands and nods once to himself.
“Hi…Mr…Carson?”
I draw back, affronted. “No, Carpenter. Garret’s new pack leader. I know they got copies of the paperwork downstairs.”
Do I sound snappy?
Fuck it, it’s been a long couple of days.
The nurse looks over his paperwork. “No, no, we have him listed as Garret Carson, brother Steven Carson…”
He stares over the clipboard at the two of us, and I glare back. “Then you need to update his records. I’ll be honest, we’ve only recently been together. I submitted a copy of the notarized paperwork from Monday. We just came back to L.A. to pick up their stuff.”
His mouth drops open. “Monday, as in…three days ago, that Monday? Oh, no wonder, sir. Yes, it’ll take at least a week to up date all of his records. Is his brother here to help verify everything?”
I bite back a growl. His brother isn’t here, and I’m getting sick of this shit. “No, sir. His brother stayed back in Mississippi with our beta. She had school and work and we weren’t comfortable leaving her alone for however long this trip took.”
The nurse looks uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, sir, but until Mr. Carson is able to sign off on the release of consent forms, I can’t really tell you anything.” He shuffles nervously from one foot to the other.
Garret is watching us like a hawk from his bed and looks to be nearly in tears when I turn to him. “Man, can you sign this whatever-the-fuck it is, so they can tell me what the hell’s going on and we can get you out of here?” He starts to nod enthusiastically before hissing in pain and gripping the bandaged side of his head.
I turn back to the nurse. “There you go. Go get whatever forms he needs. He doesn’t want to be here.” He’s just doing his job, but it’s still irritating as he scurries off before returning a few minutes later with several sheets of paperwork. He hands me the first one to fill out my contact information and gives Garret the rest to sign so that the doctor will finally be able to talk to me about what the hell’s goin’ on.
Garret’s phone has been ringing on and off since I arrived, and I finally take a moment to answer for him. I don’t recognize the number, but the voice on the other end is slightly familiar, as they start rambling an apology for earlier .
Ahh, the landlord, got it.
Quickly growing tired of the man’s babbling, I finally cut him off.
“I’m sorry. Garret’s still not feeling well enough to talk.”
Sam Carpenter, master of the understatement.
Thank you, I’m here till Thursday!
God, I’m so fucking tired.
My pack mate flails his arm at me, and mumbles and I turn my attention back to him. He’s saying something, but he points at the phone and makes a ‘give’ motion with his hand. I don’t like it, but it’s his choice, so I hand the phone over and watch as he juggles it for a moment, before giving up and putting it on speaker.
“Mr. Wazowski? Mr. Wazowski, are you there?”
The voice through the phone is shaky, the old man sounding both relieved and terrified. “Mr. Garret. I’m so sorry for earlier. I didn’t know…I wasn’t expecting your father to show up. Please believe me.” His voice seems genuinely contrite, and shit, if I’d been manhandled, I’m sure I’d be fucking contrite too.
Garret finally clears enough of his voice to reply, “Mr. Wazowski. It’s ok…well, not ok. My head feels like I’ve been pithed. But listen, I need you to do something for me. I’m going to set up a truck for the movers to load. They can come get all our stuff loaded, then we’ll be out of your hair. I’m sorry I caused you problems.”
I let loose a low growl, and Garret glares at me. It’s not his fucking fault his dad’s an asshole. He shouldn’t have to fucking apologize for this shit. I miss what he says next, but then he’s trying to get his landlord off the phone.
“Sir. Sir, I’m sorry. I really don’t feel well. I’ll call tonight though and try to get them in as soon as possible. I just need you to unlock our apartment when it happens…Yes, sir, just like before when you let them in to pack. Sam or I will be over first thing in the morning to help. Goodbye, Mr. Wazowski.”
He hangs up the phone and lays his hands over his eyes. Before I have a chance to ask how I can help, the nurse comes back in with an older woman in a white coat—her name tag says Dr. Mayhue. She checks over Garret’s file and looks at us both before speaking. “So, Garret and Sam…Carpenter?” Garret tries to nod, but cuts off with a hiss of pain. His voice can barely croak out a, “Yes.”
Dr. Mayhue gives a quick nod of her own, like she expected this, and turns to me. “Mr. Carpenter, you’re lucky Garret’s alive right now. I’m only going on the information we have from the EMT, but it looks like his head came down on a nail that was sticking out of the wall…is that right?” She looks over his bruised face, bandaged jaw, and forehead before glaring at me.
Garret starts to reply, but I don’t know how comfortable he is throwing his dad under the bus. I’ll be happy to do that for him. “That's not exactly true, Dr. Mayhue.” She turns her full attention to me, ignoring the glare that my pack mate throws her way.
“I’m from Oak Flats, Mississippi. I met Garret and our omega back home recently, and we agreed to become a pack, along with two others. Garret and I just drove back into town today. We had to come back to pack up their apartment and complete the pack registration transfer for Teddy, our omega, from the omega center. Garret’s dad showed up at his apartment, apparently upset that Garret was joining my pack, and knocked the living shit out of his own kid before apparently trying to buy him back from me. Which is fucked up on so many levels.”
She looks startled by my use of profanity, but I wanna finish this. Maybe that asshole can be brought up on assault charges. “When he got hit, he slammed into the wall. His shoulder took the brunt of it, but it looks like something sharp got his head. He couldn’t stand and our omega had to practically drag him to safety while I tried to reason with his dad. That didn’t go as well as I had hoped, and by the time I finished, he had already passed out.”
She looks between the two of us before addressing Garret again directly. “Is what Mr. Carpenter says true?” He starts to nod, but then thinks better of it. His voice still isn’t much more than a croaky, “Yes.”
Her brows draw together. “That’s a very serious accusation, sir…is there anyone else who would be willing to act as an eyewitness?” In that moment, I see the problem. We could try to have him charged for assault, but it would be our word against his. Three against three unless the landlord wants to step in, and while he may have apologized, I doubt he wants to put his neck on the line .
The doctor turns to me. “Mr. Carpenter, I would highly recommend you press charges in this matter. I know we can’t make you, but it does fall to you as the head of Pack Carpenter to care for and protect your pack. Garret could have died had that nail been any closer to his temple, or any longer. As it is, we will need to keep him overnight for observation.”
Her words are like an icepick in my chest and highlight again how useless I am as a leader. How I should have left them all well enough alone, just me and Jake. How Joseph may have lashed out in anger, but maybe he’s right and I shouldn’t have a pack of my own.
She’s looking at Garret now. He holds the side of his head as he tries to shake it back and forth. His words are stronger, but no less rough. “You can’t. You don’t know our father. He won’t stand for charges being brought against him. You don’t understand.” He’s babbling almost hysterically, his whole body shaking.
Wrapping my arm around his shoulders, I purr for the other alpha. It’s not normal, but I’m hoping it’ll at least calm him down. He starts to settle slowly, his muscles no longer twitching as he leans against me. He lets out a deep sigh. “Sorry, Sam. You remain hot, but I’m still not interested.” My low chuckle breaks some of the tension in the room. The doctor’s eyes focus on me and I give a quick nod.
Garret’s eyes slowly drift shut, and I lower him gently back to the bed. He may not be happy about it, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let their dad beat the shit out of my pack. I take his phone back and use his thumb to unlock it. I scroll through his recent calls to locate the moving company. It’s late, but maybe I can leave a message.
To my utter delight, someone picks up on the third ring. I take a moment to introduce myself and ask about getting a cross-country hauling truck sent to the twins’ apartment tomorrow, so they can load everything up. I’ll need to fill out the forms online—which is going to suck with this tiny fucking keyboard—but then they’ll pick it up and start loading it in the morning.
Giving them my debit card information for the payment, I mention that I’ll also be renting a trailer to haul my truck home, and they said that shouldn’t be a problem. Then I’m off to the truck rental website to tediously attempt to reserve a long-haul box truck with a trailer attachment. Garret’s not going to be in any sort of shape to drive for at least a few more days.
And why are these fucking keys so damned tiny?