Killing Me Softly(A Broken Souls Series)

I shake my head back and forth. “No, he just told me how lucky I am to have survived.”

“That’s an understatement, they didn’t think you’d live that entire first week. They called your Aunt Laney a couple of times to come and say good-bye.” Tate takes my hand and kisses it, being careful not to disturb the IV that’s taped in place on the back of my hand. “What happened that day?”

What did happen? How did he fool me into thinking he was being normal? Nothing about that evening was normal. Was he pretending throughout dinner? He was calculated in everything he did that night.

“He told me we were going to go have ice-cream and asked to drive my car,” I choke back a sob as I talk. “He had been so nice through dinner, he asked about you and it felt normal. When he crashed….he…he…kept saying he didn’t want me to leave him…” Unable to say anymore, I just leaned back into the bed and stared at the ceiling. I still haven’t shed a tear and it makes me feel like such a bad person. As I try to breathe through the heaviness in my chest it’s almost too much to take.

“It’s okay Holland, you’re safe now,” Tate says and stands up. Before I know what he’s doing, he kicks off his shoes and crawls into the bed with me. His arms gently go around me and we shift until my head is on his chest. For the first time since I woke up, I feel safe, as though nothing bad could ever happen again. “We don’t need to talk about the accident. Close your eyes and rest.”

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell him the events of that night. I’m too afraid he’d blame himself for something he can’t control. If he weren’t in the military, I’d never have met him. Instead of arguing about telling him the story, I escape into this moment, the one where I’m in his arms.

***

“Miss Clifford, eh hem, Miss Clifford?”

Someone is nudging me, “Holland, the nurse is here,” Tate whispers to me.

Where am I? Oh yeah, I’m in the hospital.

“Hi sleepyhead, I just need to draw some blood,” the nurse says.

I look up at the clock and back at the nurse. “Is it really two?”

“Yeah, I came in earlier but you two looked so comfortable, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“No problem,” I whisper. “My throat is still sore, is that normal?”

“It’s from the tube in your throat. It will feel better tomorrow. Here, let me pour you some ice water.” She picks up the pink and white Styrofoam pitcher and fills up my cup.

Tate stands up to give me more room to get comfortable. “Can she have anything other than water?”

“Sure, down the hall is a refreshment room with a variety of things to drink. You can grab a snack, but lunch will be here any time.”

***



Chapter Seventeen. Saving Grace

For the first time since I’ve been awake, my doctor talked about releasing me. All of my bones are almost healed, or so they say. Yesterday was torture Holland day. The cast on my wrist was removed and replaced with a lovely shade of neon green hard cast. The infection in my leg is under control, but it still looks like hamburger meat. Aunt Laney told me she’s hired a physical therapist who’ll make house calls for me every day. Great, instead of being tortured in an office, I get to have it in the leisure of where I sleep. The doctor also insisted I stay with Aunt Laney or I go into a therapy clinic.

Last night, Tate came in with to-go boxes from my favorite steak-house. We ate steak and drank sparkling wine as we watched a thriller movie from the hospital library. Since the weekend is here, Tate is spending the night with me at the hospital. The nurses are cool with him being around, the therapist they’ve assigned to me said I need the support from loved ones. The shrink doesn’t seem to understand that I’m not bitter towards my dad. For years I’ve played many roles, the biggest was as his care giver. Losing him feels more like losing a child than a dad. He hadn’t attended any of the regular parental obligatory events at school, like open house, or parent teacher conferences. I wrote all of my own notes for school and had him sign them. When I’m alone with my thoughts, I secretly feel relieved not to have to check on him or make sure he takes his pills. If anyone knew how I felt, they’d surely lock me away. I loved him, I still love him, but I don’t miss the person he had become. Maybe it is me that’s mentally ill.

A familiar knock on the door, three knocks followed by a tap, startled me from my thoughts.

“Come in!” I yell over the sounds from the TV which I keep on twenty-four seven. It keeps the nurses from checking on me because they think I’m enthralled in something mindless on TV.

Tate comes in with a grocery bag of goodies. He’s wearing the yellow button down shirt I convinced him to buy when we went to see One Republic in concert.

“I stopped at the store on my way back,” he hands me the bag and I greedily rummage through the junk food. “You would not believe what my roommate did last night. I guess they arrested him for drinking underage and drunk dialing his CO to tell him off. He’s such an idiot,” Tate says.

“Don’t hate me, what does CO mean? I know you told me before, I just don’t remember.”

“Commanding Officer, they’re like our general manager. He is pretty cool, but Jared and he clash. We have a cush job, so I don’t understand his beef with the CO. We get to work inside, in the air conditioning and wear dress blues. Girls really dig the blues,” he says teasing me.

“Do they now?” I flirt back. “I don’t know about the other girls, but I think your blues are sexy as hell. One day, I’ll get the chance to help you take them off,” I say boldly.

He looks at me like I just told him he won the lottery. Well, I’m guessing he would look like that if he won. “I’m in! I might have a set in my car, I’m happy to fulfill your fantasy.”

“Woe there sparky, my fantasy does not include a hospital room and hamburger leg. On to bigger and better things, is there chocolate in that bag?”

“Bigger and better? Hmmmm, I’ll have to prove you wrong on that comment.”

I feel heat spread through my body as my face flushes from his words. Maybe I could tweak my fantasy to include the hospital bed. Instead of replying, because my thoughts are anything but pure, I reach for the bag of goodies. Brown-sugar Pop Tarts, Nutty Bars, Nutella and graham crackers, Dove chocolates, and bags of chips. He’s a keeper. “Prove me wrong? Promises, promises.” The pain medicine has lowered my inhibitions and given me courage to say things I wouldn’t have two months ago. “What will happen to your roommate? It seems a little excessive to arrest him for a prank call.”

“You’re right, they blow things up when it could have been taken care of with a Letter of Reprimand, they call that a LOR.”

“Sounds pretty self-explanatory, will he be kicked out of the military?” I unwrap a Dove chocolate and read the message inside the wrapper. Be kind and hug a stranger, yeah that’s not happening.

“He won’t be kicked out, but he could lose a stripe for Insubordinate Conduct to a Non-Commissioned Officer. He’s an idiot. I’ve tried to be friends with him, but he’s so rude to people, I can’t stand to be around him. One night, after too much tequila, he told me how his family is poor and he sends them the majority of his paycheck. You’re thinking to yourself that doesn’t sound like an a*shole, but you don’t hear him on the phone with his mom. He cusses at her and tells her what a lousy mother she is and wishes he’d never been born.”