29. SIMON
SIMON
T his room is like a white coffin, a sterile, white coffin closing in on me, like a breath waiting to be exhaled.
The hum of the lights and the ticking clock on the wall sound so loud in a room where pain has carved itself into every surface.
I wonder how many people have died here, or suffered.
I’m not the first and sure as hell won’t be the last.
The doors open and for a moment I expect Carlos, but it's Lucas.
No doubt sent to watch over me by that asshole.
I try to move but my back pulls in resistance.
The smell of antiseptic is making my stomach churn, burning itself into the core of my soul as another memory to remind me of what happened. What I have endured.
Lucas moves and sits in the chair next to my bed, and I want him to leave.
“I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say,” I say, voice croaking like gravel.
“You need to hear it whether you want to or not.”
“You and Carlos. The best friend’s showing up when the damage is done.”
“It wasn’t like that, Simon. And deep down you know that.”
“No, don’t make excuses. Don’t tell me neither of you knew something was going to happen. I said to you on the balcony that something was wrong, you agreed, yet you did nothing. He did nothing. You both just sat there and watched it happen,” I say, my voice accusing and harsh.
“We didn’t let anything happen,” Lucas snaps, his eyes flash with annoyance and defense.
“You think Carlos just sat there and did nothing? You think he didn’t go to war behind closed doors? Do you have any idea what he’s risking right now?”
Tears fill my eyes. I have never cried this much in my life.
“I looked at him and pleaded with him,” I whisper tightly, going back to that moment on the stage before the first lash.
“I thought it would be okay, Carlos is a hardass. He’ll end his brother right there. Paint the room in blood. But he didn’t.”
Lucas swallows hard, and lets out a deep sigh.
“He couldn’t, Simon.”
“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” I scoff.
“He was outnumbered. You think he didn’t try to get his father to release you?”
I can’t keep listening to this. I turn my head, unable to look him in the face anymore.
Lucas’ voice drops, much quieter and softer. “I know my friend, and he loves you, Simon. He has made his choice. He’s given up everything and is staying here to stand beside Gabriel. All because he wants you out of this. Safe. Alive.”
“Alive,” I repeat, the word like a curse on my tongue. “Is that what this is supposed to be, survival?” my breath shakes. Everything inside me is a wreckage left over from the huge bomb this family has thrown at me.
“I don’t care about his choices,” I whisper. “I just want to go home.”
“The guys are on their way over. Managed to get a flight to come out to you,” Lucas says, and I turn back to face him.
“Dima and Lev are coming here? You can’t let them. They’ll be killed,” I say, panic taking over.
“They won’t. Carlos has a plan so that we all get out of this.”
Before I can respond, the doors open and in walks the doctor with a syringe in hand.
“Time for your next dose of painkillers. Then later we will get you back to your room,” the doctor says as he comes to stand next to me. I don’t fight the injection, I just hold out my arm like someone resigned to drowning.
Within seconds the painkillers begin to pull me under. My eyelids flutter, my breathing evening out. My body remains stiff as I don’t trust sleep, not believing in the safety, but the pain in my back is non-existent and that's enough to allow myself to sleep.
“I’ll be here when you wake up. You’ll be home soon, Si,” Lucas says, his voice a soft lilt in the distance and I succumb to the pillow of sleep, away from the betrayals, away from the hurt. Away from Carlos.