Page 120 of Limbo

“I will be. I promise.”

She twists the strands around her fingers. “Was Daddy in an accident, too?”

Jordan’s eyes meet mine, his jaw clenched, and I fake a small smile. “Yes.”

“Do I have to visit him?”

“No.”

“Good,” she says.

She never asks about it again, becoming Nurse Cate and needing to take care of everyone. Johnny comes in, and after she tries to rip out my IV and give it to him, we send them both back to the waiting room. He dips down for a quick kiss on my cheek and then scoops her up and heads toward the door.

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

Johnny stops to flip him off, only for Cate to shake her head and cover up his finger.

“No, Johnny.”

He apologizes and carries her out.

The rest of the morning blurs by with visits from Gavin, Tony, Shayna, and a tearful Felicia. Throughout it all, Pete never moves from his chair by the window, and Jordan remains in the one next to my bed. Whenever it’s just the three of us, the room grows quiet enough that I fall into a fitful sleep. The same dream torments me. Graham stares down at me. His fingers curl around my throat while I thrash around, unable to stop him. Every time, I wake up terrified, trying to get the pressure off my neck and gasping for the air he deprived me of. Each time, Jordan catches my hand in his own and says my name to remind me it’s not real.

It happens quite a few times before I refuse to close my eyes for more than a rapid blink. They send a counselor in to talk about PTSD. The main takeaway is the dreams could be here to stay for a while.

“A going-away present from Graham,” I tell Jordan.

We both fake smiles even though neither of us finds humor in it. The truth is, Graham’s reign of terror doesn’t stop just because he’s in a jail cell. Now I have to deal with it every time I fall asleep.

Dr. Gregory returns, as promised. He increases my pain meds to further dull the ache of swallowing and rechecks the swelling in my throat. Since it hasn’t changed, he sounds confident I won’t need to stay past tomorrow. I’d much rather leave now, but given the glare I get from both him and Jordan, that’s not an argument I’ll come close to winning.

Another group effort convinces Jordan to go for lunch. He and Benji are still at the cafeteria when Trey returns. He kicks out Pete and settles in next to my bed. Even though he’s changed into a T-shirt and jeans, a uniformed officer by the door tells me this isn’t a social visit. She must be from somewhere else in the county because I don’t recognize her. Apparently, she was the other officer at Graham’s, showing up shortly after my cousin.

I tell them both and a tape recorder what happened, offering more details when asked. Most of my morning feels fuzzy and far away, but every single second from when Graham pulled me back in the house to when I started losing consciousness is perfectly clear.

They bring Connor in once I finish. Since Lauren’s MIA, they need me present to record his statement. Trey’s asking him to clarify a few details when the door opens. Connor freezes up at the sight of Kevin in his sheriff’s uniform. Everyone does, no one saying anything as he strides across the room.

My uncle has always known how his brother treated us. Whenever anyone called the cops because of Graham and Lauren screaming, he would show up to handle it. The times Pete’s grandparents voiced their concerns about what was happening, he assured them he would take care of it. No matter what, he always smoothed things over, kept it from escalating. But this time is different from the others. He can’t contain it.

He stops at the end of my bed, eyes locked on the blue blanket covering my legs.

“We’re almost done,” Trey says. “Go on, Con.”

He checks with me before he continues to describe hearing me scream and the lamp break. I watch Kevin’s face while he listens. Our gaze meets when Connor says all the sound stopped, his voice cracking at the end. Kevin looks at the blanket again.

Trey clicks off the recorder. “That’s enough for now. Why don’t you go back to the waiting room?”

The other officer stands, and I give Connor a small smile as he reluctantly follows her toward the door. Kevin clears his throat, and they both stop, turning around. He’s always been commanding, but something about his uniform is downright terrifying to some people.

“Before you go, I wanted…” He runs a hand over his face, eyes still downcast. “I need you both to know how sorry I am. None of this would have happened if I had stepped in like I should have so many times over the past several years. Somehow, I’ll make it up to you. Cate too. I don’t know how, but I swear to you, I will.”

Connor and I exchange a glance, neither saying a word in response. Maybe the sentiment should mean more, but right now, it feels like we’re the broken swings at the school. Words and intentions are nothing without the follow-through. Kevin’s yet to prove anything to either of us.

Once the officer leads Connor out, Trey holds up the large envelope he brought in. My chest tightens, knowing what’s inside.

“You sure about this, Cal?” he asks, the doubt heavy in his voice.

I nod, even more anxious with Kevin being here. Chances are, Trey isn’t supposed to be showing me these pictures. As scared as I am to look at them, I’m even more worried Kevin won’t let me. Ineedto see them.

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