I want to tell her I love her. I want to kiss her again. I want her to know we need to make up for a lot of lost time.
Wait for me, Claire.
Wait for me.
Chapter 24
Claire
Vaughn touches his fingers to the curve of my jaw, and parts my lips with the pad of his thumb. He tries to speak, but it’s too much of a struggle for him.
“You’re going to be fine,” I assure him, even though my fears tell me otherwise. “We’ll talk again when you feel better, okay?” I grab hold of his hand and kiss his warm fingers. Please God, I pray, please let him make it through this. He’s lost so much blood.
He smiles tightly.
Doctors surround us. I know I’m in the way, but it’s hard, it’s terrifying to think this might be the last time I see him. There’s an onslaught of blue scrubs and tubes; elbows and hands shove me from side to side. I step slowly out of the fray and watch as they wheel him away, rushing down the hall screaming medical terms I know nothing about.
And then they’re gone, shut behind automatic doors that only work one way, and I’m left in the corridor, alone, in tears staring at the long smear of Vaughn’s blood that trails over the shiny tiles of the floor.
A single nurse jogs past and I jump for her attention. “Will he be okay?”
“The doctors here will do their very best,” she says as she runs through the doors. Her shoes leave a print in his blood by the door. She didn’t give me the answer I wanted to hear, and her careless step made it all the worse. I want someone to tell me he’ll be fine, that it was nothing but a flesh wound, nothing serious. I don’t want to know that Vaughn could die from a bullet that was meant for me. I don’t want to see the blood that is supposed to be pumping through his body keeping him alive on the cold dirty tiles of a hospital floor.
I rub the image of it from my eyes and turn away. I want to charge through those doors and do whatever I can to help him, but it’s a foolish thought; the only thing I can do right now is wait. That’s the only thing I’m capable of in this situation, I’m not equipped to do any more.
In the waiting area, people stare at me. I know what they must think, I’m covered in someone’s blood. They either look down at my feet quickly or their gazes linger, and fill with some sick sort of relief they’re not wearing as much blood as me.
There’re a few empty seats dotted around the large room, and I sit in one that faces those locked doors and that long hallway. I want to be able to see the doctors the moment they come back out.
Two uniformed police officers flank Mrs. Montgomery as she fills out paperwork. Her hair is matted and her face is drained of any of her fancy cosmetics. She looks like she’s aged ten years since I first walked into her house to deliver her my mother’s fortune. This is definitely not how I thought the return of the money would go. I knew there would be some harsh words, but I thought those would only be between me and Vaughn, when I rubbed it in his face how I wasn’t the lowlife he believed me to be.
How silly and petty those thoughts are now as I sit in this hospital waiting room covered in his blood. How different everything would be if I’d only mailed them that envelope instead of wanting to hand it to them in person, with my head held high. I would like to think that Matteo would have sprung his secret on them in a kinder way, one where everyone could celebrate the newest member of the Montgomery clan, and maybe divide the billions between them.
Doubtful. In that parallel universe Mrs. Montgomery would have probably slaughtered the entire family just to have the money all to herself.
The officers take Mrs. Montgomery into a small alcove, a little private spot separate from the rest of the crowded waiting area. I watch her lips move as she speaks with them, wondering what she’s saying. Curious as to what her sequence of events sounds like compared to mine.
Without warning, she points at me and both officers turn their attention in my direction.
Well, that didn’t take long, did it? God only knows what she could possibly be blaming on me. Probably everything that ever went wrong in her life. The officers listen intently, every so often scribbling something down on a small black pad.
I hope the doctors are helping Vaughn. I glance up at the clock and sigh, it’s only been ten minutes. My knee starts bouncing.
What’s going to happen when this is all over? What if Vaughn doesn’t make it? I start crying again. A woman sitting across from me hands me a tissue. I need to stop thinking the worst, I need to think positive. “Thank you,” I say softly.
The woman nods. I can tell she wants to ask me who I’m waiting for, her eyes are trailing over my shirt and pants, formulating in her head her own story of what might have happened to me. I look away. I don’t want to be this woman’s one-ringed circus.
She remains staring at me.
I get up and walk over to Chloe and sit in the empty sit next to her. She’s hunched over, hugging her knees. “How are you holding up?” I ask.
She leans back, clasping her fingers together, and shakes her head. “What do you think they’re asking my mother?”
I glance up in Mrs. Montgomery’s direction. Again, she’s pointing at me, this time vigorously. “Whatever it is, pointing at me is her answer.”
“Do you think he’s going to be okay?” she asks, through tears.
I lock my eyes on hers. “I won’t think of any other outcome, Chloe. He has to be okay.”
“Is it true?” she asks. “About the house on the mountain? My dad? Your mom?” she sniffles.
I nod, “I wish is wasn’t, because all of it led to this.”
“Vaughn…he told me you never knew about them,” she says.
“I never did, Chloe. How can you think I would be okay with that? You were…you were my best friend, and Vaughn, he was…” My words trail off quietly and all I can do is cry.
“He was what?” she asks, through her own tears.
“He was everything to me, Chloe. I thought we were going to get married, I thought I was going to get to be your sister for real,” I sob.
“Claire?” Mrs. Montgomery’s voice cuts through the room.
I turn my head and she’s right there, standing in front of me. I jump to my feet, “Is there any news? Did the doctors come out and say something to you?”
Her lips purse. “No,” she sneers, and waves her perfectly manicured hand at me. “Claire, I think it best for you to leave, and let us take care of things from here.”
“L-leave?” I stammer, nervously shifting from foot to foot. I can’t leave. I can’t leave him in there alone.
“Yes, leave. Now. It would be prudent, if Vaughn is ever to recover from this, that you not be a part of his life.” She takes a loud nasally breath in. “You’re the reason he’s here, after all.”
My eyelids blink spastically. What is she saying to me? This is all my fault? Vaughn got shot because of me?
I stumble over my words, snot and tears stream down my chin. “Mrs. Montgomery, there’s no way—”
“Ms. Radcliffe,” one of the officers interrupts me, “the Montgomery family would appreciate it if you left without making a scene.”