Chapter 9 Mellie
MELLIE
“How’s she doing?”
Heath’s voice washes over me like a soothing balm to a burn.
Zombie and I didn’t talk for very long before I got tired and fell asleep, but the sound of someone entering the room woke me.
I keep my eyes closed with the hope that they won’t realize I’m awake.
Maybe they’ll say something that will trigger a memory.
“As good as can be expected,” Zombie replies. “Been sleeping for a bit.”
“Good, that’s good.” Heath sounds tired, like he’s carrying the heaviest of burdens. “Undertaker make it here yet?”
“I haven’t seen him. He picking up Rowdy?”
Rowdy?
“Yeah. Fucking hospital wants to do an autopsy,” Heath snarls. “Told ‘em I’d do the same to them if they did.”
Zombie laughs. “Sounds about right.”
A loud sigh fills the room. “Damn, man, he’s gone. I can’t believe my dad is gone.”
Wait, what?
“I know. We’re gonna get through this, Lyric. Life’s shit right now, but it’ll turn around.”
The mattress dips, and a hand gently rests on my head. My nostrils fill with the scent of clean air and leather, and I tremble slightly.
“How the fuck am I supposed to tell her?” Heath whispers. “She and Rowdy…” His voice cracks, and my heart splits open at the sadness I hear. “They were so close, especially after her parents died.”
That statement has my eyes popping open, and I turn my head so fast that the room spins.
“Whoa,” Heath soothes, rubbing a thumb over my forehead, and I frantically shake my head, which only makes things worse. “You’re okay.”
My stomach churns. “I’m gonna the—”
Vomit spews from my mouth, covering the blanket, and the action causes pain to lance through my brain. Heath doesn’t even flinch. He grabs the small plastic tub Zombie hands him and holds my hair as I continue to wretch.
“That’s it, Mel,” he says. “Get it all out.”
I want to shout at him that there’s nothing more to get out as I’ve only had crackers and juice since waking up in the hospital, but I can’t speak. Violent spasms wrack my body until every inch of me screams in agony.
“Jesus,” Zombie mutters. “I’m gonna go get a nurse.”
He retreats from the room, leaving Heath to tend to me in the meantime. Barely any time passes before he returns with a nurse hot on his heels.
“Aw, Miss Kensington,” the nurse croons, stepping up to the bed and shooing Heath out of the way. He grudgingly moves, but she ignores his muttering. “Do you think you can stand?” she asks when I sag against the mattress. “I want to get you cleaned up and changed into a fresh gown.”
Before I can respond, Heath is back. “I’ve got her.”
When he reaches out to scoop me into his arms, I shrink away from him. Hurt flashes in his eyes, but Zombie steps forward and lifts me bridal style. Heath glares daggers at him, and all I can do is tuck my head against Zombie’s chest and let him carry me.
“I’m just taking her to the bathroom for the nurse, Lyric,” he says. “Or would you rather she lie in her vomit because your ego is bruised?”
Once inside the small adjoining bathroom, Zombie sets me on my feet and keeps his hands on my biceps to steady me. The space is small, and he’s so large that his presence is intimidating.
“Please step out, sir,” the nurse states, her hand gripping the IV pole she wheeled in with us.
“You okay, Mellie?” Zombie asks, not bothering to look at the other woman.
“Y-yeah. Thank you.”
He nods and steps out of the room. The nurse shuts the door behind him, closing us in.
“I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself,” she begins. “I’m Angie, one of your nurses for the day.” When I don’t say anything, she continues. “Why don’t we get this gown off and get you a clean one?”
“C-can I brush my teeth?” I ask, needing that more than a stupid gown that exposes my bare ass.
“Of course.” She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a small tube of toothpaste, a brand-new toothbrush, and a travel-size bottle of mouthwash. “Here ya go.”
I take a deep breath, then another and another, before going through the motions of brushing my teeth and swishing mouthwash. Feeling a little better, I look at her through the reflection in the mirror.
“I think I can change on my own,” I tell her.
She stares at me as if she wants to argue, but she must think better of it because she nods with a smile. “Okay. There’s a clean gown in there,” she says, pointing to a small cupboard along one of the walls. “I’ll be right outside the door if you need any help, okay?”
“Thanks.”
As soon as I’m alone, I collapse onto the toilet and hang my head. This is all too much. Not only was I in what I’m being told was a serious car accident, which stole my memories, but I’ve also just learned that my parents are dead, and a man I was apparently close to has also died.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here, tears freely flowing from my eyes, when the door opens, and Angie appears.
“You okay?” she asks. Swiping at my cheeks, I slowly nod but immediately start crying again. “Oh, hon, I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but things will get better. Your brain is just trying to protect you.”
“F-from what?”
She drops to her knees on the tiled floor. “Well, you went through something traumatic, and your brain needs to heal from that. All of its energy is being used on that and not on memories. Eventually, it won’t need as much energy, and it’ll naturally revert back to normal.”
Her explanation is so simple, and it’s the first one that makes sense or gives me any hope that my circumstances are temporary.
“If it helps, that man out there clearly loves you,” Angie continues. “And there’s a waiting room full of people who refuse to leave because you’re here.”
I know that should make me feel better, and I suppose it does a little, but it also terrifies me. The thought of facing more people who I don’t know is not exactly something I’m looking forward to.
Rather than focus on the fear, I let my mind wrap around the idea that I’m clearly loved by others and am not alone in figuring out who I am and where I belong.