Chapter 13 Davis
DAVIS
SIX YEARS AGO
Iwatched from my truck window as people walked through the hospital’s automatic sliding glass doors.
A family huddled together, wiping their faces as they hurried toward the parking lot.
Macon’s hospital was only two stories tall, and could only withstand a marginal amount of activity, but the emergency department had efficient nurses, and the surgeons here were respectable.
Still, part of me wished they’d just move him out of this fucking place and away from me.
It was the same mental battle I had every week, when I’d make a trip into town.
I’d make my rounds, grab my grocery order, food from the diner, reserved books from the library, and the order from the hardware store. Then I’d drive here…and I’d watch.
I’d yet to go in, and I had no idea what he thought of that, if he was even conscious, or knew that I was out here, struggling with my fucking guilt. I’d gotten as far as the walkway, and that was only once. Every other time, I was here, just watching.
I’d done this for two months, and with each week, a part of me withered away a bit more.
Ironic, considering my brother actually was withering away.
The accident was my fault, and now he was in there, alone, and I couldn’t make my body work right so I could go to him. My parents were sick of my excuses, my extended family disgusted by what they saw as indifference.
The town…well, most of them knew about my past, at least what they thought they knew… and most still talked. The rumors I heard circulating about the mountain recluse were getting more intense each time I ventured into town, but I didn’t care.
I just wanted to see him, but every time I tried, I shut down.
I deserved to be in that bed, not him, and that regret would drown me.