Page 122 of Victorious Vice

His eyes search mine. I see a flicker of something in those blue irises, but it’s quickly concealed behind a wall of resignation.

“You don’t know the full story, Vinnie,” Bellamy says. “Once you do, you’ll understand why I’m asking this of you.”

The prospect of uncovering Bellamy’s secrets makes my stomach churn with unease. But despite the dread seeping into my bones, I know that I have to hear him out.

“Then tell me,” I press on, my voice steady in spite of the tremor threatening to break loose inside me. “Tell me everything.”

Bellamy draws in a long breath, his chest rising and falling with an audible sigh. “Just protect them. Please. Protect Raven.”

“With everything I have. But she can’t weather the loss of her father. Neither can the others. You have to heal. And then you have to face what you’ve done.”

He closes his eyes.

I wait.

A moment passes.

And then another.

I stare at the clock, watching the second hand.

Minute by minute by minute by minute.

Has he fallen asleep?

“Austin?”

No response.

I grab his hand and squeeze it. “Austin?”

Still no response.

I nudge his shoulder. Again no response. “Austin!” I shake both of his shoulders. I don’t want to shake them any harder because of his recent head trauma.

I rush out of the room. “I need a nurse, please.”

“What is it?” A nurse comes bustling in.

“We were talking, and then he closed his eyes. When he didn’t open them back up, I thought he’d fallen sleep. But I can’t rouse him.”

“Mr. Bellamy?” The nurse puts the stethoscope into her ears and listens to his heart. “His heart sounds good. The monitors are all good.” She nudges him. “Mr. Bellamy? Can you hear me?”

“What’s going on?” I demand.

“I’m not sure. Let me get a doctor.”

A moment later, a doctor in a white lab coat comes in. She takes all of Bellamy’s vitals again.

“Odd. Looks like he may have fallen into a coma. He may have a hematoma that we missed during the first scan.” She turns to the nurse. “We need to check for brain activity. Order another CT and MRI. Stat.”

“I’m going to need you to update his wife and children,” I say. “They’re outside in the waiting area.”

The doctor cocks her head at me. “You mean you’re not family?”

“I’m a…friend,” I say. “He asked to speak to me alone.”

She rolls her eyes. “Great. I’ve just violated HIPAA.” She whisks out of the room.

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