“Get the doctor now!” I yell.
“He’s on his way, miss,” the security guard responds.
“D, what did you do?” My brother unfolds from his protective state and grabs me in his arms, squeezing me tightly as he continues to cry. I secure him in my embrace and repeatedly whisper that I’m here for him and that I love him.
“Miss, the doctor is here.”
“Let him in. I’m not leaving my brother.”
“It’s not safe with all of the glass. Please try to get your brother to come out.”
“He’s barefoot. I’m not letting him walk across the glass,” I snap back. The security guard mumbles something to someone outside of the bathroom. Within a minute or two, he’s making a layered path of towels so I can get Deacon out of the bathroom without cutting open his feet too.
I’m not thinking with all of my wits, but I do as the security guard asks because Deacon needs his cut stitched up. We emerge from the bathroom slowly, and what happens next, happens quickly. A security guard yanks me away from my brother, while Deacon is tackled to the ground by an assisting guard.
“What the hell are you doing?” I shout. “He has a concussion.”
Adrenaline is pumping through my veins while I struggle, trying to get back to my brother. He’s calling my name, but they won’t release me. I keep repeating that I’m still here. Once they have him back in his bed, the nurse rushes over and shoots him up with something that immediately calms his erratic behavior. She then looks at me like I’m next, and that’s when I stop fighting to break loose.
“I’m fine. I just want to be with my brother.”
The doctor walks back in once the commotion has settled and tells the large man who has me in his grips to release me, and he complies. “Thank you,” I say to the doctor as I rush to my brother’s side. “I’m right here, D. I didn’t go anywhere.” I reach for his hand, and that’s when I notice that they cuffed him to his bed. It’s not worth asking them to remove the restraints considering what just unfolded, so I rest my hand on top of my brother’s.
“I’m Dr. Harrison, the psychiatrist.” Dr. Harrison is a lanky man with kind eyes and silver hair. He doesn’t fit the description of a psychiatric ward doctor, as I’ve seen in the horror movies. “Jenny, could you please call Plastics for Mr. Winslow’s laceration?”
“Of course, Doctor.” Nurse Jenny leaves and returns promptly with everything she needs to clean and bandage Deacon’s head while we wait for the plastic surgeon to come to stitch him up. She’s quick to dress his wound and assures me that the doctor who will be stitching the cut is excellent, and there should be minimal scarring.
“Doctor, I’m Britney Winslow, Deacon’s sister,” I finally respond as I reach out to shake the doctor’s hand.
“Miss Winslow, without talking to your brother, I can tell you he’s not in his right mind. I would like to have him brought up to my ward where I can keep an eye on him, and once he’s ready, I would like to help him navigate through the trauma.”
“Can I stay with him if you take him up there?”
“I’m afraid not. But you will be allowed to visit your brother in a few days.”
A few days. That isn’t going to work for my parents or me. We want Deacon to know we’re here for him, that we didn’t leave him.
“Can you wait until my parents get back? I’ll call my dad now,” I plead.
“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible. I assure you Deacon is in good hands.” The doctor uses a tone that is meant to keep me calm, but I find no comfort in his words.
“Deacon, they are taking you upstairs to help you. I will come to see you the second they allow me to. I’m not abandoning you,” I choke out past the lump in my throat. “I love you, big brother. I promise I’ll be here waiting to see you, okay?” He’s so high on whatever the nurse gave him that I don’t think he’s heard a word I said. “Doctor, please call me the second I can be with my brother. He needs me.”
“Miss Winslow, I will personally call you when the time is right.”
“D, if you can hear me, do as the doctor asks so I can take you home sooner than later,” I whisper by his ear, hoping he can hear me. Leaving him is making me feel sick. My brother shouldn’t be alone. He should have someone he trusts to be with him. But I’m not the doctor, and I have no say.
A male nurse enters the room and preps my brother for transport, and within minutes, he leaves, pushing my brother’s bed out of the room.
I snatch up my bag from the floor and head outside into the cold night for some much-needed fresh air. I find a somewhat private bench set at the edge of fresh-cut grass, between a couple of tall trees and manicured bushes. Digging in my bag, I grab one of the flasks Sydnee snuck into the hospital for me, and I take a big swig. The liquid burns as it makes its way down my tender throat, but I know the flavor of good bourbon when I taste it. I polish off the flask and follow it with one of the bottled waters Sydnee also included in my bag.
Not wanting my dad to hear the distress in my voice, I opt to text him instead of calling. I purposely kept it short, leaving out the drama that unfolded. I let my dad know that they took Deacon to the psych ward, where he’ll be under observation for a couple of days. Of course, he follows up with an inquiry about when he can see his son, and I tell him that Dr. Harrison will contact us as soon as Deacon can have visitors. It doesn’t take a mind-reader to sense the displeasure in my dad’s text, but he also knows I’m just the messenger. He asks about Kade, and I tell him I am heading to his room next, and I will send an update when I have one.
Today did not play out as I had hoped, and now I’m struggling with whether or not I should tell Kade everything, or the same half-truth I said to my father.
Fuck my life.
17
Kade
Waking with no one in my room was a surprise.
My mother returned earlier from my house with my gym bag. I told her about my teeth brushing mishap. It was nice to hear her laugh. Mom has always had a beautifully infectious laugh and a smile that lights up even the darkest room.
Not long after my mom settles in the bedside reclining chair, the night shift nurse comes in with the pain medication dispenser. She gives me a quick rundown on the machine and informs me that the medication will only dispense when the light is green.
While the nurse jots down my recent vitals information in the chart, the light on the machine turns green. She has me press the button to make sure it was working correctly. Within seconds, I feel a warm sensation where the IV is stuck into the side of my wrist. Before leaving my room, she asks both my mother and me if we need anything, and we both respond that we’re fine.
At some point after my third press of the pain medication button, I must have fallen asleep, and that’s when my mom decided to go home for a bit. She had traveled back from Singapore and come straight to the hospital. I’m glad she left to get some sleep.
Grabbing my charged cell phone, I send a text to Britney asking for an update on Deacon. When I hit send, I hear a faint noise coming from the hall, followed by two female voices having a discussion.