Page 113 of The Rowdy Ones
After she leads me to a chair, she disappears. I sit completely still like a statue. I’m unable to understand how something so sick and horrifying could happen to my brother. I’d had a sixth sense he was in danger, but I was way off course when it came towhoandwherethe danger was from.
Gwen eventually returns with our coffees and something that smells savory. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I polish off both the egg bites she gives me.
“So,” she implores, “what happened?”
Despite my anger and confusion at what happened, it’s still instinctual to protect our family from the outside world. I give her an edited version and hope she’ll accept it. Gwen’s intelligent and will no doubt read between the lines, and that’s fine, but I don’t want to say it out loud.
“Rowdy was attacked and stabbed multiple times with a kitchen knife.”
“By whom?”
I swallow hard, pain cracking my chest wide open. “By my aunt.”
“Why?”
Because she thought Rowdy was raping me. At least that’s what she kept screaming about as Wild forcefully held her back. I realize it was all to protect me, but she was wrong. It was consensual.
“She got confused and thought he was a bad man,” I say, trembling. “It was early and everyone was tired. The night before, the Brawny Slasher went after my brother. I’m sure she thought the serial killer had gotten in somehow.”
Gwen blows out a breath. “Wow. I’d heard on the news the alleged killer had been arrested, but I had no idea about the rest. I’m so sorry, Destiny.”
“We have no idea if he’s going to live or die,” I choke out, another endless waterfall of tears coming down. “I can’t live without my brother. He’s my best friend. My favorite person in the world. I love him.”
She squeezes my hand. “I’m hoping he pulls through, sweetheart. But no matter the outcome, I’ll be here for you to help you through it.”
I’m grateful, too.
“Are you all Rowdy’s family?”
At the sound of a man’s voice, I jolt awake in Gwen’s arms in the waiting room. Wild, who’s been holding my hand, drops it to race over to him. I follow after him, craning my head to listen.
“We are,” Wild confirms with a sharp exhale. “Is he alive?”
“Yes. I’m Dr. Killborn.” He lets loose a tired sigh. “Please, sit. I promise I come bearing good news. It’s just been a long day.”
He’s alive.
My brother is alive.
We sit back down and Dr. Killborn drags a chair over to us. Once he’s settled, he tells us everything we need to know.
“Rowdy is stable right now,” he says, a smile in his voice. “Of course, he’s critical, which is expected when there are multiple stab wounds to a person’s back.” He pauses for a moment, the sound of his hand scratching through his beard echoing in the small waiting room. “The bad news is he sustained two fairly deep wounds. One punctured his left lung and caused it to collapse.”
I bring my hand to my chest and struggle to breathe. Gwen pats me gently on the back.
“Don’t worry,” Dr. Killborn continues. “He has a chest tube and is on oxygen. The other serious wound was the one near his kidney. A lot of internal bleeding that needed repairing. Because of Rowdy’s muscle tone and size, he mostly received non-life-threatening ones. There was a critical amount of blood loss, which required transfusions. If he were someone much smaller, it could have been deadly.”
“When can we see him?” I ask, voice wobbling. “He needs to know I’m here. I’m his only family here right now.”
“I understand,” the doctor says. “Right now, he’s sedated and in the ICU. We need to keep a close eye on him for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, which are the most critical for Rowdy. Infection, blood clots, or other complications could arise, so we need to stay on top of that. But your brother is a strong man and a fighter. I believe he’s going to recover from this.”
He’s going to live.
My tears of joy drown out the rest of his words.
It’s not often I’m thankful for my blindness, but now is one of them. Wild curses when we’re able to finally go in and see Rowdy. He must look pretty bad with wires and tubes coming out of him. All I hear, though, are the steady beats and other sounds on the machines, which comforts me. I fumble on the bed until I find Rowdy’s hand. It’s warm and strong, even in his current state.
He’s going to be okay.
