Chapter 43 Purgatorio #2
Arguing. That’s all he recalls. Voices tumbling together as they fought with him, telling him to take her to a hospital.
The constant barrage. Insinuations that he’s “insane”.
Nancy chastising him for what felt for hours, until Chesty escorted her out of the penthouse.
Leanne about the same, throwing frustrated curses, tears in her eyes as Isaac had her leave.
“Leo, she’ll die!”
The Crew even argued. Pushed. All of them.
He wouldn’t budge. Alone in his decision as he succumbed to a numbness that felt familiar and foreign at the same time.
Dr. Howell helped set up a makeshift hospital room in the television room of the penthouse, making sure it was safe and sanitized for Autumn.
A large bed faced the television screen.
Monitors tucked to the side, along with all the items needed for her sustainment.
He stared at Autumn as she laid there, barely hearing Dr. Howell’s explanations on how to care for her. Reassuring him and everyone else.
He’s not sure when she left. All he could recall was the gentle touch of her hand before she was gone.
The pain that radiates through him is numbing. He watches Autumn, listening to the faint beep of the monitor. He sits in a chair that’s next to her bed, holding her hand as he caresses it with his thumb. She isn’t cold, but isn’t truly warm either.
“Leo,” Jameson’s voice drifts through the nothing. “I have two more nurses lined up to interview.”
“Triple check their background.”
“The doctor recommended by Dr. Howell will be up later this afternoon.” Silence apart from the beeping. “I want them to check your injuries, too. You’ve ripped open several stitches, and your bandages need replaced.”
“No.”
“Leo—”
“You weren’t supposed to be in England,” Leo suddenly says, his voice rough and dry. He can’t even remember the last time he’s eaten or even drank water. “Only Isaac.”
“Who’d been shot in the shoulder, drugged, and beat up,” Jameson almost snaps back. “A damn ocean isn’t going to stop me from going after my best friend when I’ve learned he’s been kidnapped.”
Leo’s head is heavy, throbbing as it has been the last couple of days as he looks over at Jameson. He’s not dressed in business attire, wearing just jeans and a shirt. Worry passes over his face. Pity even.
Did he look that broken again?
“She’ll wake up,” Jameson says.
Leo goes back to watching Autumn.
“I’ll get you something to eat.” Jameson steps out.
With every silent, harrowing moment, Leo wishes Jameson is right. That his dear Watson will come back to him again.
Five
“He won’t eat,” Jameson whispers from just outside the doors. “I don’t think he has in days.”
Owen replies, “I could hold him down, you—”
“Fucking touch me, and I break your wrists,” Leo grumbles, stroking Autumn’s hair.
Three nurses have been chosen to regularly care for Autumn, along with washing her and keeping up with physical movement to prevent bedsores. The doctor recommended by Dr. Howell will come in every other day as well. Her bandages are new. His aren’t.
Leo’s only left this room for the bathroom, even then he almost spiraled into panic; that she’d be dead when he returned. The monitor silent.
“You’re slowly killing yourself,” Jameson says in a strained voice. “If not from eating, then your injuries will.” Leo ignores him. There’s mumbling, and then Jameson questions, “What happens if you die, and she wakes up? What do you want me to tell her? That you gave up?”
Leo just stares at Autumn, unable to move. The raw emotions filling every crack. What’s left is gnawed by an ever-growing loneliness and helplessness, digging at him as he watches her sleep. Unsure she’ll wake up. Unable to reach her.
“Culo, tonto…” Jameson’s voice vanishes. Both men disappearing.
Leo leans back into his chair, somewhat feeling that pull of hunger. It’s nothing compared to the grief that keeps him in that dark well. He can almost feel himself looking up from the bottom, bloodied and too far away to climb out. What’s the point if she doesn’t wake up?
Sleep pulls at him next.
And like every time he closes his eyes, he’s haunted by Gabriel’s jeers. The knife dragging over his skin. The smell of concrete and rust. Rattling of chains.
“I’ll kill her and—…Renato cried, didn’t know he could. The first bullet—…Tears as I—…” Punch. Rip. “Fucking weak, stupid—…what do think she’ll sound like—”
“Where is she, Gabriel?” Laughter. “Gabriel.”
“Fucking bitch!”
Leo jolts awake, panic surging as he grips the chair. His body trembles violently as he stares at the shelves of movies. His heart thunders in his chest, pounding up through his head. Everything hurts, scratching at him as he feels the tug of his stitches and twist in his stomach.
“Senor.” A familiar voice comes.
Breathing heavy, he looks over and finds Alba standing with a tray in her hands. Her gaze falls upon Autumn, frowning. She then places the tray on the bed next to Autumn’s feet, leaving the room.
Leo looks at the tray, seeing soup, bread, and rice. His stomach clenches, hunger yanking harder at him as Alba comes back. She places a small table next to him, moving the tray there. She’s quiet as she then grabs a chair and sits in front of him.
“You need to eat, por favor.” Leo stares at her. Every inhale feeling like work. She purses her lips, grabbing the bowl of soup, and then scoops some to hold up to him. “Eat.”
Leo just continues to stare at her. She brings the spoon closer to his mouth.
“Alba—”
“When she wakes up, I will tell her how stubborn you were. Worse than her.” She holds it closer, voice softening. “Por favor…mijo. Eat.”
Tears form in his eyes as his throat tightens. Alba waits patiently. Finally, he leans forward for her to bring the spoon to his mouth. He’s slow in swallowing the chicken soup, and then she does it again.
Quietly, Alba gets Leo to eat.
Six
He can’t breathe.
The wall presses against his back as he struggles to catch his breath, feeling like bricks are on his chest. His arms burn, bandages falling off as panic surges through his veins. Terror grips him as his skin feels like it’s scorching. Something crawling over him.
The nurse who’d tried to change his dressings, backs away with fear on her face. His vision blurs, black spots appearing as the world around him fuzzes out.
More people come in. He blinks, thinking he sees Jameson or Alba. Both? Someone comes closer. Hands. A flash of Gabriel shoves at him. Bombs going off in his ears. Gun shots. The cut of a knife.
“…make you fuck her while she’s dead. Her cold, pussy around—"
They come closer, and Leo flinches back. He presses further against the wall, growling under his breath. “Fuck off, Gabriel.”
The man standing before him pauses. Suddenly, someone else appears and speaks softly.
“Leo. It’s Trix. You’re home right now. Autumn’s next to you. Look over.”
His head dips down, finding Autumn in the mayhem. A calmness washes over him as he shakingly moves towards her, leaning down to press his face against her hair. He inhales, finding small comfort.
“You’re home.” The voice continues, floating through the carnage of his mind.
He blinks. A bit more clarity as his arms ache more, throbbing. He holds them up, noticing bandages have been ripped off, showing the bloodied wounds underneath. Another flashback of hearing Autumn’s screams, and he wants to puke.
“Let’s get new bandages on, okay? Will you feel safer if I do it?”
Leo looks over. Trix smiles faintly, gesturing towards the chair. His breath quickens again, the idea of being touched repulsing him. He grimaces with a frown, feeling the bile almost coming up.
She steps a little closer. “Just me. Trix. See?”
His body shudders as he stares at her, slightly shaking his head as his vision clears more. As if moving through sludge, he gets back to his chair and sits down. Trix pulls a chair over carefully, and something is placed on the table beside him.
“Do you want me to change them?” She asks again.
“I don’t want anyone…touching me,” he rasps, voice not wholly sounding like himself.
“How about if Alba takes care of your bandages?” Leo looks up at Trix, who keeps a calm, faint smile. He shakes his head. “Okay, but we need to take care of your wounds. I won’t hurt you. He can’t hurt you.”
Leo’s face becomes more severe, brows pulling together.
“They told me what happened,” Trix says gently.
“Fuck, Trix he’ll spiral don’t…” Jameson starts to speak, but she holds her hand up at him.
“He needs the truth right now. Not lies. Honesty. Right?” She asks, keeping her eyes directly on Leo.
“They fucking told you?” Leo mutters, anger beginning to grow next. “She didn’t want—”
“I already knew,” Trix says quickly. She brings her hands down.
Confusion fogs his mind again as he shakes his head, and then holds it. He winces from touching the stitch upon his head, wrist and forearm on fire.
“Let’s talk while I rebandage your arms. Give you some relief. Just us.” Trix suggests, and then waves whoever is in the room out.
There’re footsteps, and then the door closes. Silence, apart from the beep of Autumn’s monitor. Leo moves his gaze to her, staring in hopes she’ll look at him. Smile at him. That they’ll be alright. She’ll take care of him. “You’re safe, baby.”
“Leo.”
He drags his eyes over to Trix, who holds her hands open to him again. She’s patient. Waiting until he finally moves, arms trembling as he holds out his right one to her. He flinches harshly when she gently takes it, undoing the bandages carefully.
“I told Autumn who you were,” she starts explaining softly. “The hotel mogul. I knew quite a bit about you because of you funding Luna Stella. Took a bit of digging, but I could see how powerful you were. And how kind given your list of philanthropy. That’s all she ever spoke about. Your kindness.”
The old bandage is taken off, and she grabs something to clean the wound. Leo won’t look at it, stomach churning. He hisses when she touches it.