Chapter 9
DELTA
I don’t remember falling asleep, but the sky is dark outside the window of my hospital room when I open my eyes. My entire body aches horribly and in the dim light from the bathroom, I can see a nurse beside me, poking at the machines I’m hooked up to.
“How do you feel, honey?” she asks softly, giving me a sympathetic smile.
I try to talk, but my throat feels so dry, and she hurries to pour me a cup of water from the pitcher at the end of my bed.
I gulp it down greedily, my eyes fluttering shut as I struggle to piece together what happened.
I remember the fall, how badly it hurt, and my heart aches at the memory of Bay’s panicked yells, the sound of a helicopter, and then… my eyes pop open, searching.
I don’t have to look far.
Doctor Harrison is sleeping in a chair beside my bed, his head resting right on the hospital bed, one of his big hands wrapped around my ankle.
He’s here? He’s still here? Swallowing the lump in my throat, I look past him and see my brothers on the couch against the wall, passed out as well.
Bay’s head has dropped onto Lake’s shoulder, and both of them are snoring quietly.
I expect to see Dad, but he’s not here, and the tightness in my shoulders lessens a little with the knowledge I’ll be able to put off facing his disappointment for a little while longer.
“You have quite the dedicated fan club,” the nurse tells me mildly, lifting my arm to check the IV taped to my hand. “None of them would go home when visiting hours were over. The doctor made quite a fuss.”
I squeeze my eyes closed, struggling to recall what Doctor Harrison was saying to me as I was getting my brain scan.
Everything seems fuzzy and distant, and every time I try to reach for a memory, it only gets further away.
It’s maddening, because even though I can’t remember what he said, I know it was important. Really important.
“Hey, now.” The nurse pats my hand gently, still keeping her voice hushed. “Things are going to be a little confusing for a while. You had a pretty serious concussion and a brain bleed.”
I open my eyes and blink up at her dimly. “But I was wearing my helmet.” It’s such a stupid thought. I know people can get head injuries even with protective gear, but in my concussed mind, nothing makes sense. “Wait, my brain is bleeding?”
She smiles sympathetically, reaching for a blood pressure cuff on her cart. “Doctor Pritchett will be in to talk to you in the morning, but you’re not in any immediate danger. You just need to be monitored. Bleeds like these usually stop on their own.”
I stare at Doctor Harrison as the nurse wraps the cuff around my arm and makes a note on her chart before leaving with a promise to come back and check on me soon.
He’s still completely passed out, his lips parted slightly and an angry red mark on the bridge of his nose from where he must have been pinching it.
He looks so human, obscenely handsome, but just a man.
“Every minute of the day, I wish like hell we’d met under different circumstances.”
The words float back to me, more substantial and real than anything else in the hours following my fall.
Did he really say that? It seems a little suspicious that I sustained a head injury and now I’m “remembering” Doctor Harrison saying things like that to me.
Especially considering the last time we saw each other, he watched me walk out of his office without a word, and the two days of silence that followed pretty much confirmed he was done with me.
He’s here, though, sleeping with his head on the end of my bed, holding onto me like he needs to make sure I don’t go anywhere.
My eyes burn. He wouldn’t need to be here at all if it weren’t for my own stupidity.
I shouldn’t have been on that mountain today.
I should have known my limits and told Dad I couldn’t do it.
He’s a hardass, he pushes me, but he’s not completely unreasonable.
I’ve had two concussions before, neither as bad as how I feel right now, and both in the off-season.
It’ll take weeks to heal, and that’s not even touching the fact that my brain is bleeding.
It’s over. I know it in my heart, but I don’t understand why the feelings I have don’t seem to be bad. I think I’m… relieved?
I must be shaking with the effort it takes not to cry because, although I haven’t made a sound, Doctor Harrison jerks awake.
He looks around wildly, still half asleep, and if I didn’t feel this horrible, I’d laugh.
It’s not funny, though, not now, and especially not when his eyes find mine and his expression seems to crack.
“Delta.” He’s on his feet in an instant, hovering over me. “Can you tell me where you are?”
I nod, pressing my lips together to keep myself from sobbing. “The hospital,” I gasp, tears finally beginning to fall.
He stares at me for a moment, his chest heaving, and then I know I must be having some sort of brain bleed hallucination because he sits down at the edge of the bed beside me and pulls me tightly into his arms.
I don’t remember ever being held like this, as though I’m something precious.
“You’re okay,” I hear him murmur against my temple, his voice breaking as I cling to him, burying my face in his chest. One of his hands weaves through the hair at the back of my neck, cradling my damaged head so tenderly it makes my heart ache.
“I’m sorry,” I blubber, my tears soaking through his scrub shirt. Even dizzy, emotionally drained, and likely out of my mind, I still have the foresight to try to remember all the little details of how it feels for him to hold me like this. “I was so stupid?—”
“Stop.” He grips me tighter, and I swear I feel his lips press against my temple. “You’re going to be okay. You’re okay. ” It’s like he’s reassuring himself just as much as he is me, but the sound of his deep, measured voice cuts through my panicked haze, anyway.
I don’t know how long we stay that way, clinging to each other without saying a word, but eventually, my tears dry up and Doctor Harrison untangles himself from me, returning to the chair he was sleeping in. He looks so tired, and I feel another stab of guilt for putting him through this.
“We need to talk,” he says quietly, glancing over his shoulder at where Lake and Bay are thankfully still asleep. His throat bobs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I blink at him in confusion, my sluggish brain struggling to comprehend what he’s talking about. “What?—”
“The pills, Delta.” He bows his head, pressing his face into his hands.
Oh.
I’d forgotten, but of course, they would have taken my blood when I came in.
Everyone knows now. I thought I’d cried myself out, but tears sting my eyes all over again and I press my lips together to stop myself from sobbing out loud.
Shame fills me like bitter bile, eating away at my already bruised heart.
So, this is what rock bottom feels like.
“I’m—I’m so sorry. ”
Doctor Harrison shakes his head and finally looks back up at me.
We stare at each other in silence for a moment, me with tears pouring silently over my cheeks, him with his palm pressed over his mouth like he doesn’t trust himself not to call me an idiot.
Maybe he should. I’ve been so, so stupid in so many ways.
It seems pretty pointless to deny the obvious.
“How long?”
My bottom lip trembles. “Not long.”
“Delta.”
“Since training restarted,” I confess in a rush. I wish he would look away again. It would be easier to say all this without those warm, familiar eyes on me. “It’s not why I fell if that’s what you’re thinking. I started off okay, but then there was this pain. I might have passed out?—”
Doctor Harrison hisses, his eyes flashing.
“Do you think I give a shit why you fell, Delta? You shouldn’t have been on that mountain to begin with.
You put your life at risk and you could have died .
Do you know how fucking insane that makes me?
” And he does look a little crazed, his fists clenched and chest heaving.
I stare at my lap. Everything is ruined. My snowboarding career is finished, my body is broken, and the man I’ve been in love with for three years hates me. “I was trying to do the right thing,” I bleat feebly, wrapping my arms around my shoulders in a vain attempt to keep myself together.
“For who?” Doctor Harrison demands, his voice a dark snap. “Who were you destroying yourself for, Delta? Because I don’t buy for one second that you want another gold medal badly enough to tear your body apart, endanger your life and become a fucking drug addict. ”
He’s right. I still can’t say it, though.
Not when admitting it out loud, or even to myself, would mean the end of the mythological figure that is River Jacobs.
I’ve spent my whole life looking up to him, propping him up as the gold standard I should strive to be, and the fact I’m lying in this hospital bed is incontrovertible proof that he’s just a man.
A man who cares more about what I do and how the world sees me, than who I am or what I want.
“He makes me feel like I’m weak. Every single day, I feel like a failure .
” The truth sounds so much worse when I say it out loud.
I want him to leave so I can curl up in a ball and sob into my pillow.
“And I am! I’m not good at anything else.
I was such a shitty student and now I can’t even snowboard?—”
A large, warm hand touches my cheek, and I start, looking up to meet Doctor Harrison’s fierce gaze.
“Delta.” His eyes search my face, and I expect him to draw back, but he still doesn’t move his hand. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I can think of half a dozen things off the top of my head that you’re incredible at, which have absolutely nothing to do with snowboarding.”
I let out a hysterical little laugh. He’s so sweet for saying it, but the hospital bed I’m lying in right now seems like pretty convincing evidence to the contrary. “I’m a mess. I’m broken! ”
“ You’re not,” he snarls, so suddenly and furiously that my mouth snaps shut in shock. “ River’s version of you is broken. Personally, I’m excited to see more of your version.”
“Doc—”
He shakes his head and interrupts me with a single word that makes me feel warm all over. “Brooks.” My breath catches, and he seems to shake himself, shying away from the seriousness of the moment with a wry smile. “I think we’re past the traditional doctor-patient relationship, don’t you?”
“Brooks,” I echo, testing it out. It feels good to say it, but not as good as the way Brooks’ jaw tightens when I do.
“You’ll never lose me. Do you hear me, Delta? Never. I’m here. I promise.”
I blink, trying to cling to the words that just floated back to me, but it’s no use. Holding on to them is like cupping water in my hands, and before long, I’m left with nothing but frustration and longing.
Doctor Harrison— Brooks suddenly looks grave again. “Will you tell me where you got them? The pills?”
“I had them,” I blurt out automatically. “I had my wisdom teeth out over the summer.”
“Don’t lie.” We both look around. My brothers are both awake, and Bay is getting to his feet, his expression murderous. “Stop protecting him, Delta. You know it’s wrong. You know how fucked up this is. ”
My vision blurs with a fresh wave of tears. I do know it’s wrong, I do, but admitting it out loud? Admitting that my father would rather me be a drug-addicted, broken champion than a happy, healthy failure?
“Bay—” Lake, forever the peacemaker, protests quietly, “She’s messed up right now. She doesn’t need to be thinking about this shit.”
“Yes. She does,” Bay argues, coming to stand beside Brooks’ chair.
“She knows, and she needs to admit it, otherwise she’ll be back to buying every line of his bullshit this time next week.
” He plants his hands on the edge of my hospital bed and leans forward, staring me down. “Where did you get the drugs, Delta?”
I close my eyes, instinctively reaching for that piece of me that’s always stood firmly in defense of my father, but it’s gone.
The piece that’s yearned for nothing more than to be loved and cherished by River Jacobs has vanished, leaving a rough, gaping wound in its place.
Like he knows I need it without me having to ask, a hand I know belongs to Brooks finds mine and squeezes it in silent reassurance.
I suck in a shallow breath, my chest shaking with the effort to not start sobbing, and I finally open my eyes to look at the three men clustered around my bed.
“I had some. From my wisdom teeth,” I admit, and my voice is tiny and full of shame.
“They ran out last week. Dad could tell. He asked me if I was taking something and I admitted it and he—and he gave me more.”
All three are silent, staring at me with varying shades of fury in their eyes, and I’m suddenly so tired. I’m tired of being in pain, I’m tired of feeling like a failure, of never being good enough and lying awake at night thinking of all the things I should do better.
Did Dad see that ?
Did he keep me down so I would strive to be better?
Did he starve me so I would fight to survive?
“Delta,” Bay begins again, but Brooks shakes his head vehemently.
“Don’t.” His voice is firm and leaves no room for debate. “It’s enough, Bay. She knows. Why don’t you guys go home for the night and get a few hours of sleep? I’ll stay with her and call if anything changes, but she’s stable.”
“Probably not a good idea.” Lake rubs the back of his neck wearily. “Dad is her emergency contact. I don’t want him to turn up here and start calling the shots. He’ll throw you out, Brooks. The only reason he’s stayed away this long is because he had to deal with the media shit storm.”
Apparently, while I was unconscious, a new alliance was formed.
Brooks doesn’t look worried. He’s staring at our hands, still intertwined on the bed like he forgot he reached out to me, and again, I remember his voice.
“You have no idea what you mean to me.”
I’m not imagining him saying those things.
I look past Bay and Brooks to Lake who is lingering just behind them, pale-faced and exhausted looking.
Defiance is kindling deep inside me. I’m not a victim, I’m not a puppet, and I’m never going to let myself forget it again.
“Can you get someone to bring me the forms I need to sign to change my emergency contact?”