Chapter Nine #2
Keith dropped me off at the front door of Emergency and I arrived in time to see the paramedic stretcher Oliver into the hospital.
After that I was by myself. I sent off messages to Peter to pick up Ella from school and then to Liz, one of the EAs I’d sent to Brisbane, to let her know Oliver did not need to be picked up from the airport.
Once I found out what was going on, we would look at cancelling next week.
Or the next month, I thought, as I sent the message.
Nick burst through the door of the emergency room about ten minutes after I sat down. His eyes scanned the room, landing on me. His face was ashen, and concern was already deeply etched on his handsome face. I stood up and we both just walked towards each other until we collided.
After a long moment, he stepped back from me, checking me for damage. There was blood on my blouse, and, though I had attempted to wash it off, Ollie’s blood was on my hands and under my fingernails.
He pulled me back into his chest, whispering questions. I explained what had happened, and that I didn’t have any more details, but that Kate was here and would give us an update as soon as she could. It would likely be several hours before we heard anything at all.
The two of us sat, stony-faced, holding hands.
Nick would sometimes get up and pace the hall, while I worried obsessively for him and Ollie.
When Kate finally emerged, several hours later, she refused to speak until the doctor was with her, which I suspected meant it wasn’t great news.
I thought I would throw up, expecting her to tell us that he had lost too much blood and hadn’t survived.
The doctor was young. Younger than I expected him to be. Was he even a doctor?
‘I’m Dr Hayden Tan. I work in the ER. You’re Nicholas?’
Nick nodded once. Economising his energy.
‘Okay, your brother is a bit of a mess, Nick. He has a spiral fracture to his left leg. His pelvis has a hairline fracture, but we are not too concerned with that one. The head injury is the priority. He has a laceration and a small haematoma. We’ve placed him in an induced coma.
We need to monitor him very closely to ensure the bleed does not get worse.
If it does we may need to create a burr hole, or perform a craniotomy to control the damage.
‘Right now, he’s about to have his leg treated.
The ortho team will put a titanium rod from his knee to his ankle and then allow the break to heal on its own.
We’ll keep him in an induced coma for twenty-four to forty-eight hours and then, if the bleed is resolving, we can attempt to bring him out of it.
He’s in the ICU, you can visit with him for a few minutes.
Only one of you, though,’ he said, looking at me.
Nick seemed frozen under the weight of the doctor’s list of his brother’s injuries. I reached out to him to rub his arm and then circled mine around his back as Kate also instinctively grabbed his hand.
He nodded. ‘Yes, I’d like to see him, please.’
He followed the doctor and Kate and I stood, watching him go.
‘You should go home, Abs,’ Kate quietly implored. ‘You look exhausted.’
‘I’m not leaving Nick. I’ll take him home when he’s done.’
‘Abbey …’ Kate started.
‘I’m not leaving him, Kate.’ The caution in her tone made me want to bite her head off. I breathed through my annoyance. I needed to know what the worst-case scenario was. ‘Kate, is he … Is Ollie going to be all right?’
‘The next forty-eight hours are really important. We don’t know yet,’ she said.
It felt as if hours passed, but it was only ten minutes later when Nick emerged. His face was frighteningly pale, but I saw the relief on his face when he saw me, which made my heart contract. I stood up and wrapped my arms around him, holding him.
‘Abbey. I … I don’t … I don’t think I want to be alone.’
There was not a chance on this earth that I was leaving him anyway.
We didn’t speak in the Uber. He gripped my hand so tight across the seat that I moved into the middle so my body was touching his, offering silent comfort and support.
His hold on my hand continued as we exited the car and went to his apartment door, never breaking contact.
He used an electronic keypad to gain entry to the foyer and steered me towards the lift, swiping again and pressing the button for the top floor.
When the lift opened, there were only two doors in the foyer at the top. He walked to the one on the left.
He put his keys into a wooden bowl on a marble-topped console table at the entrance and walked into the flat.
I walked down three steps, which led to an open-plan living area that was bigger than my entire house.
The kitchen was white marble, the furniture tan leather.
Huge black-and-white artworks decorated the walls.
It was masculine, but somehow managed to still be comfortable and homely.
There was glass everywhere and high ceilings and the glittering lights of Sydney harbour for the view. It was beyond beautiful.
He walked through the lounge and down a hallway, opening a door.
‘This is my sister Evelyn’s room. There should be some of her clothes in the drawers, and you should find something that fits you. She has a bathroom in there.’
Sister? I walked into the room, which was also beautiful. All cream with coral accents. The bathroom was done stylishly in black-and-white subway tiles with black taps.
There was a mirror, and I looked at myself briefly. My face was pale from the day, and I looked drawn. My makeup had held up pretty well, despite the tears, but there was a streak of blood across my cheek. Oliver’s blood. I took a shuddering breath.
I undid my buttons with shaking hands. Oliver’s blood had stained through my navy shirt onto my skin.
Turning on the shower, I stood under it for a good five minutes before working at washing the blood off me.
There was a heavenly scented body wash and, after ten more solid minutes under the running water, I reluctantly stepped out and dried myself off on the fluffiest of white towels.
I tentatively peeked into Evelyn’s drawers and there looked to be a basic supply of odds and ends, things that were evidently left behind whenever his mystery sister – who I had never heard of until a few minutes ago – was last in Sydney.
I found some trackpants that fit me and a stretchy singlet, which would mean I didn’t need a bra.
I headed down the hall in the direction I thought was the lounge room.
As I walked past a door, I heard another shower running and stopped, putting my ear to the wood.
Part of me wanted to go in, to comfort him, and give him anything he needed to feel better.
The decision was made for me when I heard glass shatter.
I marched straight in, ready to fend off whatever demons he was fighting. By the time I reached him, the shower had stopped, and he was standing there naked, dripping wet and bleeding. He had put his hand through a glass shelf in the shower; it lay shattered on the dark-grey tiles.
‘Jesus,’ I muttered.
His hand was bleeding, and a shard had nicked his leg.
I handed him a bath towel, and then reached for the hand towel and held it to his leg to staunch the bleeding of a Northby brother for the second time that day. He started sobbing then: hard, harsh cries that echoed in his chest and throat.
‘I’m so scared, Abbey, I’m so fucking scared.
’ He was shaking, his eyes on the ground.
‘What if he’s not okay? I put too much pressure on them.
I’m not a fun brother. We are all that we have.
I don’t say I love you enough. I cannot bury another person I love.
I cannot do it; I will not survive that.
It would break me. I can’t do it, Abbey.
I never want to be in that dark place again.
I cannot lose my little brother. It’s my fucking job to protect them! ’
I put my body against his, rising up on tippy-toes to put my face to his face, whispering his name, and told him everything was going to be all right, although I did not know that.
I kissed his temple and left my lips there, praying that anything I did would be of some solace to him. This glimpse into how much death had touched his life was illuminating, though.
He rested there against me while his sorrow drained.
I noticed the moment his lips began moving against my throat, his grip changing from taking comfort from me to needing me, his fingertips digging into my sides, pulling me into his body further.
I must have given some indication of need too, although what sign it was, I would never know, but he picked me up and carried me to his bed.
When the back of my legs met the mattress, he placed me gently back down on my feet with reverent care. His beautiful, bereft eyes looked into mine and an unspoken conversation between us took place.
I reached up, taking his face in my hands, placing my lips firmly on his in answer, and he responded to my consent with immediate abandon.
He parted my lips with his tongue, tasting my mouth, biting at my lips. His hands were everywhere, pinching at my nipples through the thin material of the singlet and trying to get my borrowed track pants down.
His erection was between us, and I ran my hand down his chest and then down the length of him while stepping on the cuff of my pants, trying desperately to remove them.
He felt exactly as I remembered him, and his eyes closed at my touch.
He pressed his forehead into me, kissing my jaw, his nose in my cheekbone.
He took off my top, his mouth claiming my nipples, making me issue involuntary noises.
My knees were growing weak with desire, and I slid down onto the firm mattress, parting my legs for him.
He continued to lick and nip at my body while he positioned himself and then plunged into me as deep as he could.