More Than Friends Page 14

  I know that he knows I’ve figured him out. He just nods and walks away.

  Sara walks to my side and asks, “What the hell is going on with him? He’s been acting so strange and it’s freaking me out a little.”

  I don’t want her to worry so I say, “I think he’s just concerned about Chloe. Everyone deals with things differently.” She just nods, clearly not convinced, if the look on her face tells me anything.

  Sally comes out of the ICU. Everyone stands as she approaches the group. “Sara, Skye, I'm really sorry things took as long as they did. I was hoping that you would be able to get back to see Chloe again before visiting hours were over, but we just finished up. I wanted to let y’all know that Chloe is doing great.”

  I really wanted to see Chloe one more time tonight, but I guess that’s out of the question.

  “Let’s go. The sooner I get home and in bed, the sooner I can get up and come back.” I grab my stuff and head to the elevator. Sara gets in with me and we’re silent as the cart starts moving down to the main floor.

  When we exit, I spot Tom walking out of the main doors. I give Sara a quick peck on the cheek, say a distracted goodbye, and head in the direction I saw him walking. I want to try to talk to him alone, but he’s in his truck, starting to pull out of the parking lot before I reach him.

  I decide to try to follow him instead. Quickly running to my Jeep, I climb in, and take off like a bat out of hell. I don’t have to try too hard to catch up to his beat up truck, but I stay far enough behind him that he doesn’t notice me.

  We drive about fifteen miles outside of town. The neighborhood he pulls into is rough. All the houses on this street seem to be condemned, or at least need to be. There are no kids playing on the street, no dogs barking, and everything looks cold and forsaken.

  When Tom pulls into a driveway, I pull the Jeep over on the side of the street a couple houses down, put it in park, and kill the engine. Slouching down in my seat, I watch as Tom walks to the door and knocks. No one answers, but he lets himself in.

  While he’s inside, I take in the house, committing the sloped, sagging roof, and peeling, white paint to memory in case I need the information later. Ten long minutes pass before Tom comes back out.

  He places something in the inside pocket of his jacket, and looks around while wiping his nose a couple of times on his sleeve. He gets in his car and leaves just as quickly as he came. What the hell is he doing?

  I’m more than sure I’m at his dealer’s house. I put the Jeep in drive and just as I pass the house, I glance up in my rearview mirror and I spot a blue Dodge truck parked in the driveway. I’m positive that it’s Todd’s blue fucking Dodge sitting there.

  Doing an illegal three-point turn in the middle of the road, I pass the house and quickly find the house number on the mailbox. 1572. I repeat it over and over in my mind, forever engraving it in my memory.

  I finally get to the four-way stop and glance at the street sign. Independent Road. “1572 Independent Road,” I say again and again. Reaching over to the passenger seat, I grab my bag and pull out the leather book Sally gave me, writing the address on the inside cover.

  Furious does not even describe how I’m feeling at the moment. Murderous would be a better description. What kind of person does that? He just betrayed the only friends he has, and for what? A little bit of coke? There has to be a hundred other dealers in this town. Why Todd? My mind is reeling.

  Speeding off in the direction of my apartment, I pull out my phone to call Brady. I need his opinion on all of this. Brady answers on the second ring. “Hey, man. What’s up?” I spend the next few minutes filling Brady in on all my suspicions, Tom, the creepy house, and the blue Dodge. He stays quiet throughout the entire conversation. When I finish talking, his only response is “shit.”

  “Yeah, dude, shit is right.”

  I take a deep breath, readying myself to continue, but Brady interrupts me, voicing my thoughts. “You need to call the cops. What the fuck is he thinking?”

  I sigh into the phone.

  “I don’t know what the hell is going on in that thick ass skull of his, but I’m going to find out.”

  I take in my surrounding, lots of trees full of bright green leaves line the streets, shading the sidewalks. Small, single family homes that are similar in size nestled closely beside one another. Kids in yards chasing each other and throwing footballs. Parents washing cars or doing yard work. Everyone outside of this Jeep are completely ignorant to the madness happening three streets over.

  Sure, they probably know how shady that side of town is, but do they really know what goes on in those decrepit homes? The difference between the small neighborhoods is as drastic as living in Compton and Aspen.

  “You headed back, man?” Brady’s voice interrupts my thoughts.

  “Yeah, headed back now. Why, what’s up?” I ask.

  “I’m gonna stick around till ya get here. I’m serious though, when we get off the phone, call the cops, dude. They’re the only ones that can help, they need to know where Todd is,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “Yeah, man. I’m on it. I'll see ya in ten.” I hang up the phone without another word. I toss my phone in the console of my Jeep and press my foot harshly against the gas pedal. As my speed accelerates, I reach over and turn the radio up, attempting to drown out my thoughts.

  I pull into my parking spot in front of the apartment building, and put the Jeep in park. Staring at the old structure, I can’t help but think about everything that's happened inside of these walls. I really need to start looking for a new place. Maybe I can convince Chloe to move in with me.

  The light burns my eyes, so I quickly close them. I hear Skye singing somewhere in the background, but I can’t find him. Everything hurts. My mouth and lips are so dry they’re burning. I unsuccessfully try to swallow a few times to wet my throat but my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, making me gag.

  I try to open my eyes again and they feel gritty, like they’re filled with sand. I blink a few times, but the light in the room is still blinding, causing me to close them. Scuffling feet gain my attention. When I open my eyes again, they are more focused than a moment ago.

  A woman that looks to be in her early sixties is in the room. She gives me a smile and says, “Welcome back, Chloe. I’m Sally, your nurse. How are you feeling?” With my mouth still dry, and my throat burning like hell, I’m unable to form the words I need to tell her. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. I desperately need something to drink, and judging by the way my mouth feels, brushing my teeth is at the top of my list of priorities.

  “On a scale of one to ten, what’s your pain level?” Sally asks and I just stare at her. I just came out of a coma. What does she expect, rainbows coming out of my ass? She must see my annoyed “are you fucking kidding me” face and takes the hint.

  She lets out a small, amused laugh and says, “I’ll go get you some ice chips; I bet you’re thirsty. While I’m gone I’ll call Doctor Jacobs to let him know you’re awake. He’s in the building so I’m sure he’ll come straight up here. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be back with something in the line of pain medication.”

  When she leaves the room, I lie my head back and close my eyes. I stay like that for a few minutes, ignoring the way my skin crawls from being dirty until I finally hear the soft footsteps of someone entering the room. When I open my eyes, Sally has returned and is standing next to me with a white cup in her hand.

  “Here’s your ice chips. After the doctor examines you, you should be able to have more to drink. If you’re up to it, we can possibly get you something to eat. Doctor Jacobs will more than likely insist on liquids so we don’t upset your stomach. He instructed me to wait until after the examination to give you pain medication. He doesn’t want you to fall back asleep until after he’s seen you. He’s on his way now, so just sit tight and let me know if you need anything else.” I just nod.

  I try to raise the cup to my mouth but it takes a lot of
effort. Sally notices my struggle and comes to my side to assist me. The ice dissolves on my tongue and I am beyond grateful. She repeats the process several times before placing the cup on the table next to me.

  My mouth is now wet enough that I’m able to speak. I look at Sally and clear my throat, causing me to flinch at the soreness. It feels like I’ve swallowed glass, but that doesn’t stop me from asking, “What happened?” I feel like I’m missing something. There’s a memory trying desperately to break through to the surface, but it’s just not quite there.

  “Maybe we should talk about it after the doctor checks you out,” she says, giving me a sad look. I realize she’s probably right.

  “How long have I been in the hospital?” I croak out.

  “A little over a week now.”

  “Why don’t I remember any of it?”

  “Let’s let the doctor explain it to you, okay?” The sad look on her face convinces me to drop the subject for now.

  The room is silent but my mind is moving a hundred miles a minute. What kind of injuries do I have? How long have I been here? Where is Sara, Skye and Tom? I decide that she could at least answer the latter, so I ask.

  “Has anyone been by to see me?”

  She nods yes. “You’ve had a waiting room full of concerned people all week. You’re a lucky girl. Between that Skye and Sara, your cup runneth over, sweetie.”

  My heart swells with love for my best friend. She may be a little rough around the edges sometimes, but she’s the most considerate person I know. I’m beyond blessed to have her in my life. I vow in that moment, to never take her for granted again. To show her every day how much I love her, and appreciate her friendship. A man in a white lab coat comes in smiling, making me nervous.

  “Well, hello! I’m Doctor Jacobs. How are you feeling?” Why do people keep asking me that? Do people usually wake up from a coma and start doing jumping jacks?

  Instead of saying that, I say, “As good as can be expected, I guess. I hurt all over and my head is pounding. I’m starving and thirsty. I feel gross and need to bathe, and brush my teeth.”

  Dr. Jacobs clears his throat and continues, “Well, your friends told me that you’re a handful. I guess I underestimated what they were saying.” I raise my eyebrows.

  “Chloe, I’m going to examine you and then go over your injuries and medications. We’ll discuss moving you from the ICU. Also, I need to make you aware that there’s a detective that asked me to call him when you woke up. He needs to get a statement from you about the incident.”

  He must see the confusion on my face because he asks, “Do you remember anything about the attack?” I shake my head and he continues. “Well, let’s get the examination over and I’ll go over everything else after.” I nod in acceptance.

  The next thirty minutes go by very slowly, and violated doesn’t begin to describe how I’m feeling. I’m being poked and prodded, flipped one way, and then the other. Doctor Jacobs asks me a million and a half questions…everything from my birthday to, “does this hurt?” I’m beyond annoyed and irritated during the examination.

  Finally, Doctor Jacobs fills me in on my condition. “Chloe, you have three broken ribs, a broken nose, and are severely bruised all over your body. We’ll keep your ribs wrapped and have already reset your nose, but there’s nothing we can do about the other injuries. You are very lucky. We’ve done several x-rays and they’ve confirmed that you’re healing nicely. Your bruises have mostly healed or faded. The injury we were most concerned about was the bleeding and swelling on your brain. We were able to stop the bleeding with no problem and the swelling went down like it was supposed to. Due to the nature of your injuries, and the treatment you underwent, we placed you in a medically induced coma. You were put on life support because the Propofol paralyzes your body temporarily, and we needed the ventilator to help you breathe. We had no complications and you have healed very nicely.” The doctor pauses to makes sure I’m following what he’s saying. I nod for him to continue.

  “Currently, we have you on Dilaudid and have been slowly reducing the dosage so that you could be coherent when you woke up. I want you to continue the Dilaudid in low doses until you leave the ICU. When we move you to a new room, I would like to take you off the Dilaudid completely. I believe Ibprophen 800 mg combined with a low dose of Fentanyl will help with pain and swelling, and will keep you comfortable. If that doesn’t work we can change the meds to better suit you.”

  He takes a breath and continues. “I’m keeping you in the ICU for the night so that you can be closely observed. As long as everything still looks as good as it does now, I see no problem in moving you to a regular room here in the hospital tomorrow. Oh, and you can eat, but I would like you to stick to liquids and soft foods for now. I don’t want you to eat anything that will make you sick. Also, the neurologist will be in a little later, and will do a few scans of your brain to make sure everything is still looking good. Now, do you have any more questions?”

  Damn, that’s a lot to take in. My mind is going into overload trying to process all of this new information. He seems to have covered everything except the reason I’m in the hospital. “What put me in here?” I ask.

  He gives me a sad smile and sits on the chair next to my bed. “Chloe, I’m not aware of the details. What I do know is you were attacked and that if you hadn’t gotten to the hospital when you did, you may not have survived. A man named Todd was arrested for the assault. The police apprehended him at the time of the attack. You may need to speak to Skye about what happened. The things I’m telling you are what I found in the police report.”

  Holy shit! Todd did this to me? “Why can’t I remember what happened?” I ask, hoping that he has some miracle cure to help me remember.

  “Sometimes our bodies block traumatic memories. Hopefully they’ll come back to you so that you can help the police form a better case. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?”

  The only thing left to tackle is the bathing situation. “Yeah, when can I shower and brush my teeth?”

  The doctor laughs and says, “I was told that you would say that. I’ve instructed Sally to come in and give you a good old fashioned sponge bath. Unfortunately, you can’t shower just yet. You have six staples in your skull that can’t get wet. We’ll be removing them by the end of the week.”

  “So I can’t wash my hair?”

  “We have what’s called a dry shampoo that she’ll use. I assure you that Sally will take wonderful care of you. She should be back any minute. After you bathe, your friends can come back to visit you. I don’t want you walking around just yet, but if you’re up to it, you can sit up in the bed or chair.”

  Sally enters with a rolling table filled with stuff to give me my sponge bath. This won’t be awkward at all.

  “Let Sally know if you need anything at all. I’ll come by to check on you again this evening,” he says and leaves the room.

  Sally approaches the foot of the bed. “Chloe, I’m going to help you sit up in the bed and remove your hospital gown, but first, I’m going to give you your pain medicine. Just let me close the door and shut the blinds so you can have some privacy.” Sally sets about the task of closing everything and turns back to me.

  “You ready?”

  I nod eagerly, waiting for the magic medicine that will take my pain away. Sally twists the small tube of medicine to the IV and pushes the medicine into my veins.

  “This might be a little uncomfortable. Moving you around may also become slightly painful and if we need to, I’ll adjust you to a more comfortable position. You just have to make sure to let me know.”

  “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s just get this over with.” Within minutes, I’m sitting up, naked except for the wires attached to my chest and the IV taped to my arm. The pain medicine is definitely working. My head is spinning and I feel drowsy. Sally quietly washes my body and hair. I immediately feel better, as far as being clean. I sigh heavily.

  Sally breaks the silence
first. “All done, are you ready to brush your teeth?” I nod with vigor. I feel like a bobble head and start laughing, ignoring the slight jolt in my ribs. I’m able to get situated in the chair with her help. I don’t know why Skye fusses about this chair. I love it!

  I manage to get my hospital gown back on with Sally’s assistance. She hands me a bottle of water while she opens a new toothbrush and travel size toothpaste tube. I try to open the bottle, but my muscles are too weak. Sally sees that I’m having trouble and takes over.

  Instructing me to lean my head back with my mouth hanging open, she gently brushes my teeth like a mother would do with a toddler. Not being able to do these small tasks for myself leaves me feeling so helpless and pathetic. Tears well up in my eyes. I desperately try to fight them back but it’s no use. The traitorous tears spill over onto my cheek. My body begins shaking and I start sobbing loudly and tells me to spit. She squats down to look me in the eyes. “You know, I could never begin to imagine how you feel, so I won’t even try. You seem to be the type of person that doesn’t wants someone’s sympathy or pity. And from what I’ve seen and from what your friends say about you, you’re a strong-minded, strong-willed woman. That’s a trait to be admired, sweetie. People seem to lack that these days. It’s a shame, really. But sometimes things you have no control over, happen. For some reason, you had to go through this to become the person you need to be. Learn and grow from this horrible experience.”

  She gives me a soft smile and continues, “Now, don’t get me wrong, sweetheart. My heart goes out to you. No one should ever have to suffer at the hands of someone else. But do not let this make you weak or define you. Every once in a while, life knocks us down, not because of karma or because of something you did, but so you can learn from it. So you can grow and become a stronger person. Turn this horrible experience into something to motivate others that have suffered the same fate. Not everyone is strong enough to fight this sort of battle and come out on the winning side. But, sweetie, you did it. Look at you, Chloe, you are alive and well. What are a few bruises and broken bones compared to losing your life? You have a waiting room full of friends that love you. Allow them to help you, and lift you up. Lean on them when you need them. It doesn’t mean you’re weak, it means that you value them the way you’re supposed to.”