Page 121 of Elusion

“An accident,” Callie says.

“And there?”

“Another accident.”

“You need to be more careful, Cal.”

“I will be. I promise.”

“Was Daddy in an accident, too?”

Callie forces a small smile. “Yes.”

“Do I have to visit him?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Pacified, she switches into nurse mode. Cast in the role of the patient is none other than an unsuspecting Johnny when he steps through the door. Within a few minutes, it’s clear that being around real medical equipment will lead to him needing an actual nurse, so for his safety, he returns to the waiting room with her in tow. As he carries her out of the room, I can’t help myself.

“If this is what you’re like around a kid, I’m terrified for our band’s image.”

He turns around, flipping me off.

Cate covers up his middle finger. “No, Johnny.”

“Sorry,” he says, disappearing around the corner.

The poor guy never stood a chance against her.

Everyone rotates in and out of the room, Pete and I the constant fixtures. Callie sleeps on and off at first. She always wakes up gasping, searching the room, and reaching for her neck. I grab her hand, and once I say her name, her panicked eyes settle on me, and she calms down.

“Sorry,” she says after the third time.

“Nothing to be sorry for, beautiful.” I brush my thumb over the hand once again relaxed in mine.

She won’t shut her eyes anymore after that, avoiding the onslaught of memories waiting in her dreams. A counselor visits a while later and talks to her about the symptoms of PTSD. She listens, unresponsive until they tell her the nightmares could persist for some time.

“A going-away present from Graham,” she whispers, glancing over.

I smile because she means it as a joke, and I’m supposed to, but my fingers tighten on the arm of the chair. She points out a harsh truth. We both know it.

The doctor swings through late in the morning and increases her pain medications to help her swallow easier. The swelling in her throat has stayed consistent, which he considers a net positive. He sounds optimistic she can leave tomorrow—the news she wants. She hates other people taking care of her, but if she thinks it will stop after she comes home, she’s mistaken. My ass plans on not letting her lift a fucking finger for the foreseeable future.

She will need to deal with it.

On my way back from a forced lunch break—again ganged up on by the best friend and girl—I bump into Trey, rounding a corner. Out of uniform, he’s accompanied by another officer. He evicts Pete and me so that they can record statements from Callie and Connor. Kevin shows up while we wait in the hallway and lets himself in. According to Callie, he apologized and promised to earn their forgiveness for the part he’d played over the years.

“What are the chances of him following through?” I ask, reclaiming my chair next to her.

She conveys her answer through an eye roll that roughly translates to, not very likely.

The door revolves all afternoon. One person out and another in.

When I fell asleep, I’m not sure, but I open my eyes to Gavin tucking me the fuck in with a blanket. He giggles and dodges out of the way as I kick at him.

Supper time rolls around, and the whole group assembles to go out and eat. They are all going a little stir-crazy and need a break from the confines of the waiting room, especially Cate. Of course, I stay behind, not letting Callie out of reach any more than necessary. Pete sticks around, too, glued to his chair by the window, not paying any attention to us.

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