Page 56 of Forged

Jordan wasn’t having it. The poor boy was clearly in pain.

“If you’re taking him to the hospital, you should go immediately,” Blaine said, taking the empty water bottle when Nick handed it back. “Wrap his hand and arm tightly in a towel to stop as much of the bleeding as possible.”

There wasn’t much in the way of towels immediately available, but Rhys ripped part of the tablecloth that had been on the altar and Nick used that to wrap Jordan’s hand. Once that was done, they got up and hurried to the parking lot, to Nick’s car. Rebecca met them there with the keys.

“I want to come with you,” Mrs. Turner insisted. “He’s my grandchild and he needs me.”

Nick sent Bax a wary look as he fastened a still-wailing Jordan into his car seat. Bax wasn’t sure whether he was looking for permission or support or something else.

“I’ll sit in the back with the kids to try to keep them calm,” he offered, ignoring Mrs. Turner entirely.

“Thanks,” Nick said, seemingly relieved.

“You won’t leave me behind,” Mrs. Turner continued to insist as Bax fastened a struggling Macy into her car seat. “I’m far more important than this person here.”

Nick briefly met Bax’s eyes again before straightening and opening the driver’s door. “If you’re coming then get in,” he told his mum before settling into the car himself.

As soon as Bax had Macy strapped in, he climbed awkwardly over her to squash himself into the space between the two seats. Jordan was beside himself, but settled a tiny bit when Bax held his uninjured hand and talked to him.

The trip to the hospital was a complete blur. Both kids were crying and Bax was vaguely aware of Mrs. Turner shouting at Nick from the front passenger’s seat. She turned a few times to try to reach for Jordan, but Jordan kicked out and she stopped. Nick stared straight ahead as he drove, and for all Bax knew, he didn’t hear a word his mum shouted at him.

They were a screaming ball of pandemonium by the time they reached A&E. Jordan had settled a little in the car, but as soon as they parked and Nick fetched him from his seat, he started up again. Whether that was because he was reminded of the pain or because of Mrs. Turner’s attempt to shout instructions at everyone from Nick to Bax to the nurses who dropped what they were doing to see what was the matter, Bax couldn’t tell.

“He sliced his hand on sharp metal,” Nick explained as the nurses quickly ushered him back to an emergency examination room. “No, it wasn’t dirty. Yes, I think he needs stitches.”

“Sir, madam, you can’t come back here,” one of the nurses stepped in front of Bax and Mrs. Turner, blocking them from following Nick and Jordan.

Bax nodded and stepped back, but Mrs. Turner threw a fit.

“That’s my grandson!” she shouted. “He’s injured. He could bleed to death. I need to be there with him.”

“Madam, we’ll do everything we can for him,” the nurse said holding up her hands. “He’ll be just fine. We’ll let you know as soon as he’s been treated.”

Mrs. Turner didn’t like being told no and continued to argue with the nurse. Bax held a miserable Macy closer and walked her to the far end of the waiting room, near to a collection of kids’ books and toys, but she wasn’t interested.

“Ssh, ssh,” he tried to comfort her, bouncing her in his arms a little. “Everything’s going to be okay. Jordan and Daddy will be okay.”

He hoped he wasn’t lying to a toddler. The truth was, he had no idea what was going on. He’d never had to deal with an injury like that. He’d never had to be on his own with a crying toddler and an irate grandmother in a hospital waiting room either.

“This is your fault,” Mrs. Turner hissed at him after giving up her fight with the nurse and marching across the waiting room to Bax. “None of this would have happen if you hadn’t lured my son into doing horrible things.”

Bax was not in the mood to deal with insults like that. “What Nick does with his own time is none of your business,” he said, trying to keep his voice low.

They weren’t the only ones in the waiting room. Half a dozen people sat there waiting and now watching them instead of the telly on the wall.

Mrs. Turner didn’t seem to notice or care they were being watched at all. “He’s always been such a good, bright boy. Quiet, but not gay.” She lowered her voice to a whisper to say “gay”. “I don’t know what you did to change him, but I want him changed back.”

Fury rose in Bax, but he tamped it down for Macy’s sake. “He’s not a duvet cover. No one can change him. He’s his own person.”

“He never would have turned to sodomy if you hadn’t forced him to,” Mrs. Turner continued. She gasped and reeled back, eyes wide. “You cast some sort of spell on him, didn’t you? You and your witchy practices.”

If Bax had had a free hand, he would have rubbed it over his face in exasperation. Maybe it was just the intensity of the moment, but Mrs. Turner had crossed over into ridiculous territory.

“I’m dating your son, Mrs. Turner,” he said, still trying not to draw focus, which was impossible. “I didn’t force him into anything. Honestly, you’re the one trying to force him intoa heteronormative relationship by dragging women out of the woodwork and attempting to set him up. Just let him be, alright? Just let him be himself.”

“This is not who he is,” Mrs. Turner insisted. “You Hawthornes have corrupted him. You’ve twisted him like that wretched statue.”

Bax winced. He didn’t need the reminder of the carnage he’d caused. Nick was wrong when he said his unicorn, and all the rest of his art, was unimportant. It was a major part of who he was, a part he needed to focus on more for the sake of his soul.

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