32. Chapter 32
Apparently, being in shock is a little more serious than I thought. They hooked me up to an IV and gave me some medication I can’t remember the name of, but it calmed my panic and made me fall asleep fast. I woke up a few minutes ago in a little bit of a haze, but now that I’ve figured out where I am, things have cleared up.
Now, what’s hitting me is processing everything—well, attempting to.
Lennox, Oakley, and I are in the hospital. I should be released today, according to the very nice nurse who answered a million of my questions. Tennison is dead. And Lennox needs all of our support.
It’s heady. Our sleepy little town hasn’t ever had this much excitement, and the fallout from it will affect everyone. The thing I know with absolute certainty is that every single resident will come together to help in whatever way they can.
A knock sounds at my door before it cracks open and Rina’s head pops in. She looks exhausted, and I feel terrible for putting more shit on her plate with my freakout. She gives me a small smile as she pushes the door open and comes in, Ledger following behind.
“Good morning,” Rina says in a subdued tone, and it almost makes me cry again. She’s so strong-willed, and to see her this worn down is hard.
Ledger looks about the same, except I can see the heavy weight of responsibility that’s on his shoulders. It’s lessened since he got with Ainsley—he was moving more into a brotherly role instead of a parental one—but that’s all disappeared now.
“Hi.”
“How are you feeling?” Ledger asks.
“Honestly, like I was hit by a truck. Everything is sore, my head is pounding, but they just gave me some meds for that.”
“The doctor said you’ll probably be out within the next couple of hours, as long as the headache lessens,” Rina says.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ledger asks, sounding hurt. “We should have gotten you help as soon as you got here.”
“You didn’t know. Hell, the paramedics told me what to look out for, and I just pushed it all aside. I promise, Ledg, this isn’t on you.” I push myself to sit up a little and wince at how sore I feel. It’s weird. I didn’t do anything physical yet my whole body feels depleted. The body is so strange, working to protect a person when they need it, in ways you would never think of. I’ve written about shock before, but now I feel like I did a terrible job of doing it justice.
“How’s Lennox doing?” I ask.
“He’s talking, in pain, but seems to be doing well. The doctors are optimistic he’ll be moving out of the ICU later today,” Rina says.
“But how is he doing?” I ask, glad that he’ll be out of the ICU but still struggling with everything that will have to happen from there.
“He’s...” Ledger lets out a sigh. “He’s not talking about it at all. He’s answering basic questions about how he physically feels, but he won’t talk about anything else. It feels like the physical injuries are nothing compared to whatever that bastard did to Len mentally. Oakley’s partner told us a little bit of history with the other victims, and it just seems like everything is going to be hard.”
“Fuck.” I toss my head back. I was hoping Tennison didn’t have enough time to fuck with Lenny’s head, but it looks like I’m wrong. “When I get released, I’d like to go talk to him.”
“Of course,” Rina says quickly. I get the feeling that they hope I can make some magical breakthrough with him, but they’ll be sadly disappointed if my gut feeling is right.
I want to ask about Oakley, but I’m not even sure if they’ve been updated on him. It feels odd to ask about him, and I’m not sure why. He’ll just be on my list of visits when I finally break free.
“Knock, knock,” a voice rings out from the door. “I’m here with your discharge paperwork.”
“You guys don’t have to stay,” I tell Rina and Ledger.
“Shut up. If we don’t get your discharge info now, you sure as hell won’t tell us later.” Rina gives me a knowing look. She’s not wrong.
The three of us listen to the nurse, and within ten minutes, I’m free to go.
Sitting next to Lennox in a regular hospital room is making me feel hopeful. However, the vacancy in his eyes has grown in the last day. He’s sitting up in the bed, still shirtless, showing the bulk of the bandages on his chest. The stubble covering his pale face is a reminder it’s only been about a day.
“How are you feeling, Lenny?”
“Super good. Feels like I could go for a hike right now.” His deadpan joke makes me smile, but I can see he only did it for me.
I open and close my mouth a few times, but I’m not even sure what to say. I don’t feel like I need to walk on eggshells around him, but I don’t even know how to express all the emotions running through me.
“Thank you.” His soft voice pulls me out of my overthinking.
“For what?”
“For taking care of that bastard. He isn’t going to hurt anyone anymore because you’re a badass.”
“Well, I technically didn’t kill him.” That, I have at least come to terms with since my talk with Oakley. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t hope he hates hell.”
That gets me a small grin, and I’ll take it.
“I don’t blame Oakley. I hope he knows that. It could have happened to anyone, but it was Tennison’s fault, no one else’s.”
“I’m scared he’s going to put all this blame solely on his shoulders,” I whisper, fighting the tears. I don’t want to cry anymore.
“He will,” he says simply.
I look up at him, trying to figure out how he’s so calmly talking about all of this right now.
“I think—” He pauses, trying to gather his thoughts. “I think this is going to fuck me up for a long time. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to just … talk about it.” “Oh, Len,” I whimper. It hurts. He’s so calm, so disconnected, and it frightens me. I don’t know how to help him.
“I can’t say I’ll be fine because… Fuck.” He tips his head back. “I don’t think I’ll be fine, Will. This sucks. All of it.”
“I know,” I barely get out over the sob. “You know I’ll be here every step of the way. I’ll help you however I can. I’ll bug you when you lock yourself away. I’ll bring you burgers every day. Whatever you need.” I reach out and squeeze his hand, wordlessly giving him as much support as I can.
He squeezes back, and when I look up at him, I see the tears streaming down his face.
We cry together for a while. I’m not sure how long we sit there, but it’s cathartic as hell for me. This crying feels helpful, productive. Yesterday’s just felt uncontrollable and chaotic, so I like the change of pace.
“How are you doing, Will?” Lennox asks when his tears dry up a little.
“I honestly have no clue. I haven’t had a chance to just sit and process everything. After I left you yesterday, I went to Oakley. Then the doctors hijacked me because I was in shock.”
“What does that mean?” He’s worried, and I’d laugh if this were any other situation. He’s still in the hospital yet he’s more worried about me.
“Basically, they admitted me, gave me meds that forced me to sleep and calm down.”
“Jesus,” he mutters.
“It’s definitely not something I recommend. But hey, just more material to work with for a future book,” I deflect.
“It’s okay to not have all the answers, Will. Take time. Figure shit out. Lord knows everyone is going to need time to decompress from everything. You don’t owe anyone anything, okay? You don’t owe me burgers every day or stopping your life because you feel like you’re obligated to help and support me. I’m a big boy. I can handle things, and I promise if I need help, you’ll be my first call.”
I don’t know how to respond to him because I know whatever I say, he won’t really hear. He’s in the thick of huge trauma, and I believe he wants to think he’ll call if he needs help, but there are no guarantees. He knows I’m a call away, and while he’s in the hospital, I’ll bring him things to take his mind off of the healing he’s doing and still needs to do.
For now, that’s enough.
We spend the next few minutes talking about what the next steps for him are before the nurse comes in to check his wounds. I leave with the promise to stop by before I go home to sleep.
Wandering the halls of the hospital is eerie. So many stories here, both good and bad. People having babies, people going through the hardest times in their life, all under one roof. It also strangely feels like the perfect place to just think. I eventually find myself in a little seating area off in a secluded part of the hospital with no one in it. I sit in one of the chairs and relax for what feels like the first time in years.
The one thought that hits me with striking clarity is the fact that I’m in love with James Oakley. I know, sooner rather than later, I need to tell him too because if this has taught me anything it’s that time isn’t a guarantee. Why waste any more time than we already have? And on the off chance he doesn’t feel the same, then at least I know. But I truly believe that’s not the case.
I know he’ll have more demons to conquer because of Tennison, but I’ll be right by his side if he’ll have me.
Hell, we can make it a year of healing. I can take time off of writing, and we could travel and get away to disconnect from everything that happened here. I’ll still be a phone call away for Lennox and able to come back at any point.
This could absolutely work.
My fictitious plans are interrupted as voices get closer.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Ledger.
“Leaving.” Oakley.
“Yeah, no shit. I can see that. What the fuck are you doing to Willow?”
“She doesn’t need me here fucking things up for her. She’s strong, stronger than she’ll ever know.”
I don’t hear a reply, but I do hear the sound of bone crushing into bone. Lovely.
“Maybe that’ll knock some fucking sense into you. You don’t get to hurt her. You get to man the fuck up and face this shit.”
The sound of footsteps walking away is all I hear. I stand up, making my way around the little corner separating us, and find James rubbing his right eye.
“Don’t make decisions for me.”
He startles, looking up at me with guilt all over his face.
“We will talk about this later, but right now, I need a few hours.” My voice is strong, but I can feel the hurt quickly building. It’s not that he thinks he isn’t good enough; it’s not that he was just about to leave, although that fucking kills me. It’s the fact that he wasn’t even going to talk to me. We talk about everything; nothing is off limits, and for him to just take that decision away is not okay. But I know I need to think things through, think about my response before I lose my shit on him.
I turn on my heel and head toward the elevator.
“Willow…” Oakley calls out.
“Later,” I yell over my shoulder, not bothering to look at him. The tears are yet again falling, and I hate it.
All I want to do is stop fucking crying.
Going home and taking a shower, then getting some fresh air with a walk sounds like a good start, though.