“Daddy?”
“Yes, it’s Daddy.”
“My head hurts, Daddy.”
“I know, darling. It’s just a temporary thing. We’re going to the hospital now and the doctors will make it all better. You have to be brave, okay?”
“What happened?”
“You fell down the stairs.”
“I did?”
Then he lost consciousness again and Brett stared ahead. I knew he was willing the journey to be over soon. His jaw was clenched so tight his skin, already so pale, looked bone white. For the rest of the journey I prayed, God how I prayed, that all would be well.
Soon we were getting into a waiting vehicle and before long we arrived at the hospital. Staff took Zackary from us, put him on a gurney, and wheeled him away. I wanted to bawl my eyes out. Wordlessly his father drew me into his arms, and I held onto the front of his shirt in desperation. I loved that little boy so much, even the thought of him being hurt was unbearable.
It seemed forever before the doctor returned. “You said he fell down a flight of stairs?”
I nodded frantically.
“It seems he has a concussion.”
“What about the blood in his mouth,” I asked anxiously.
“It looks like he just knocked a tooth loose, but we will find out more after some tests. Please calm down and wait patiently. The good news is he is currently not in much danger.”
The relief I felt drained the strength from my legs and I would have sunk to the floor if Brett had not caught me and helped me to a chair.
In time we were ushered to Zackary’s room. The lights were switched off and he was hooked up to equipment that bleeped and emitted a pale green glow. Neither Brett nor I tried to speak. We just sat there in complete silence. I stared down at the frail child and just prayed that no lasting damage had been done.
After a while, Brett pulled my hand and we both exited the room. Outside, in the corridor it seemed too bright.
“It’s my fault,” I whispered.
“Don’t be silly. Accidents happen, it’s not your fault. He was probably just scared by the rain and wanted to find you.”
“I should have taken the baby monitor with me,” I cried.
“Come on. How were you to know? It won’t help him at all if you beat yourself up over this. I’ll call a car for you. Go back and get some rest. I’ll hang around here and make sure his test results are fine.”
“I'll stay,” I said. “I won't be able to sleep anyway. Besides if he wakes up, I want him to see a familiar face.” And then I realized what I said, and quickly added. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that.”
But he shook his head dismissively. “It’s not important. Don’t give it another thought.”
“We can take turns,” I said.
“Yes,” he said softly, and rubbing the back of his neck looked around him. “I can’t wait to take him back. As you can imagine I have quite the distaste for hospitals.”
Chapter 42
Charlotte
"The same goes for me," I said.
He turned to look at me. “Why is that?”
"I had a friend who had acid thrown on her face by her ex. He swore if he couldn’t have her, no one would. So he had the great idea of splashing her face with acid. She lost an eye and her pain was so intense she was unable to even shut her eyes for a moment to sleep. She was a very beautiful girl and she couldn’t take it to see what she had become. I’d go to see her in hospital every day and she would say nothing. I knew she was awake, but she was unwilling to move, or speak, or acknowledge anyone at all. In the end she took her own life. And then my father went and died in one. So, you see, hospitals are not my favorite place either.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his gaze boring into mine.
I knew he was thinking about his own disfigurement.
"Do you want something to drink?" he asked suddenly.
I nodded and watched him leave. He was in a camel coat that went past his calves. Mrs. Blackmore had chosen it and brought it to him because it was just the right thickness for the weather, and he had carelessly thrown it over his shoulder, but it perfectly complemented the plain white shirt he had tucked into his dark gray slacks.
The ensemble, although simple would have made anyone look regal, but coupled with the natural grace of his frame, and the layer of mystery and danger that the mask added to his demeanor, he almost looked too intimidating to approach.
He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of juice and water. I chose the juice and lifted it to my lips while he kept the water by his side.
“Aren’t you going to drink something?” I asked.
“Later,” he replied, his gaze ahead and deep in thought.
It was late at night and we were the only ones in that waiting room. “Who do you wear the mask for? Yourself or others?”
He didn’t look away. “I wear it for myself because of others.”
“Because they’ll pity you?”
“Because they’ll make me angry. I don’t want any eyes on me …” He turned away. “I never did.”
“What about my eyes?” I asked.
For the longest time, he watched me without moving, until I lifted my hands. The moment I touched the sides of his face, he lowered his head. I went on, towards his ears, carefully, but when I touched the string to pull it away, he caught my wr
ist.
His touch seared me and I waited with bated breath. For what exactly, I was unsure.
“Your pulse is racing,” he murmured.
I said the first thought that came to mind. “I want to see you.”
He smiled, sadly, and roved his eyes over my face, his gaze settling on my lips. “And I want to fuck you.”
In that moment … the world, time … and my breathing slowed down. My heart stuttered in response, and it made me breathless. “Okay.”
His eyes widened.
I returned my gaze to his hold on my wrist, and began to reach again for the string around his ear.
“Charlotte …” he warned, but I ignored him, overtaken by determination.
“I want to look at you … please … let me.”
Chapter 43
Brett
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pHuDGv53dcA
Good Girls Go To Heaven (Bad Girls Go Everywhere)
She was unraveling me, and I hated it.
I was terrified … but at the same time I craved it. Sparks of excitement electrified my brain.
I knew that she wouldn’t reject me, but I didn’t want her to know just how ugly I was. The way the nurses, the doctors, Jillian, the orderly who came into my room, my son reacted. Those memories told me she was going to get a shock. That somehow she had built it up in her mind that I had a few white scars like the one she had on her wrist.
Then I looked into her eyes and suddenly, I knew I wanted her to see.
If she showed disgust I would know then that it was over. I didn’t need to masturbate to fantasies of her every night, twice. I could forget her. Stop hoping and just go back to life as it was before she breezed into my life.
My hold began to loosen around her wrist as she began to pull the string away.
We were the only ones seated in the corridor, and although it was softy lit, the light was enough for her to have her fill. The mask came away in her hand, and I was revealed in all my hideousness. The scars, the skinless bits, the brutally mangled flesh. I didn’t dare meet her gaze, but as she traced her fingers over it as if in awe, my body trembled.