The doctor chooses this moment to come in and I have to lie back down for the examination. Between being prodded in painful spots and asked questions about my vision, the headaches, dizziness, nausea, pain levels and everything in between, I have to let go of Zane’s comment for the moment.
The doctor pronounces me fit to go. He also tells me in no uncertain terms that under no circumstances am I to fight in the foreseeable future and that hitting my head repeatedly is a sure way to find myself in a wheelchair some years down the line.
Hell. That’s one scary image.
A nurse brings the discharge papers to the room for me to sign. Zane has brought me some of his clothes, and as the nurse helps me off the bed and into the jeans and T-shirt, I try to hide from everyone how shaken I am by the doctor’s warning.
Then again, the lingering dizziness takes care of that. Zane is more concerned about keeping me from falling on my face than anything else as the nurse pulls me off the bed and onto the wheelchair.
It also seems that just getting up causes my headache to go off the damn charts, so that it’s all I can do not to clutch my head and moan as the nurse wheels me out of the room. Instead, I do my best to
straighten and sit upright as I’m wheeled down endless corridors.
“Audrey?” I manage.
Zane, who’s walking beside the wheelchair, glances at me and smiles. “She’ll borrow Tessa’s car and wait for us in the parking lot.”
That eases some of the stupid panic.
The nurse leads me to a smaller waiting area, next to a row of plastic chairs, and takes his leave.
Then Zane leaves as well, saying he’ll take care of the payment paperwork. So I sit and let my eyes drift shut, trying to ignore my throbbing head.
I don’t know how long I sit there, listening to the sounds of people walking about and talking, the distant cries of a baby, the deep cough of a man.
The row of seats beside me creaks. Someone has sat down.
“Ash.”
I almost jump out of my skin. “Tyler.” I raise my head. “I thought you left.”
“Don’t worry, little brother, I’m leaving.” There’s bitterness in his voice, but frankly, what does he expect? “I just wanted to say goodbye.”
I glance at him. Tyler’s four years older, broader and taller than me. His hair’s longer than mine, the ends brushing his collar, and he wears a blue shirt and well worn jeans over black boots. I catch another glimpse of his tat, the lines crawling up his neck.
He looks like crap. His dark eyes are shadowed, the bags underneath telling me he hasn’t slept well in days.
Then again, he came over because Dad died and... Yeah, I don’t believe for a second he’s come for me. And if he has, it’s too late.
I wait for him to get up and go, since he’s said his goodbyes, but he doesn’t. He presses his thumbs into his red-rimmed eyes. “I was wrong, Ash. I realize that now. I really thought that if I left, you’d be okay. Stupid of me, I see that in retrospect. But I can’t change the past. I get that you don’t know me anymore, and you don’t trust me. I deserve that.”
I listen to him talk and anger flares again, heating my chest. “If you’re waiting for me to say it’s okay, then you’re wasting your time.”
He flinches. Running a hand through his dark hair, he grunts and shrugs. “Yeah. I see. I’m going now. I just wanted to let you know that you’re not gonna be left on the streets again, not on my watch. I’ve talked to Zane and I’ve opened an account in your name. I’m not rich, but you’ll have a monthly allowance until you find your feet. For as long as that takes, Ash.”
He gets up quickly and gives me an uncertain smile. “I never forgot you. I just thought you were better off without me. I’ll see you at Dad’s funeral.”
And he turns and goes before I can formulate a response. Groaning, I clutch the armrests of the wheelchair and scrunch my eyes shut.
I don’t know how I feel about Tyler anymore. It confuses the hell out of me. I was furious with him for leaving, and his sudden appearance hasn’t done anything to appease that fury. If anything, it has laced it with renewed resentment, throwing me back into time to relive the moment he abandoned me—right before Mom died and Dad went off the rails.
His concern, his regret, his offers—they leave me reeling. My fury’s now tainted with curiosity and sympathy. Even sorrow. It isn’t pure. Isn’t sharp. It doesn’t help me get over anything, only sinks me deeper into grief.
***
Coming out of the hospital in the icy breeze and seeing Audrey in her blue coat is like seeing the sun after a polar night. Pressure lifts from my chest and the pain in my side and head eases.
The panic begins to fade, especially when she smiles. She’s standing next to Tessa’s Jeep. She opens the car door and Zane rolls me over to her. Together they pull me up and settle me inside.