When You Find Me by P. J. Vernon

Author:P. J. Vernon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books

25

Gray

There were no windows in my hospital suite. A digital clock above the doorway said it was half past six in the evening. The only light came from soft bulbs beneath a row of cabinets on one side. Everything reeked of sterility.

On the tray extending over my legs sat a collection of Styrofoam containers. Peas and chopped carrots. Greek yogurt. A cup of melting shaved ice.

The nurse—the man with the self-righteous attitude towards painkillers—insisted on leaving the food. “It’ll do you good to eat something,” he’d said as he made notes on my chart. “Your blood sugar’s too low, and you’re underweight as is. You’re also Vitamin B deficient. Common for folks who drink … a lot.”

He was right about needing calories, but the idea of eating repulsed me. Charlotte and Mamma had gone for dinner themselves, and I’d been alone for the past half hour.

To be fair, I’d tried for the yogurt, but the throbbing in my collarbone prevented me from reaching it. The movement my arm sling permitted was deceptive as far as pain went, but there was no point in ringing that nurse for more than the ordered Percocet. A single tablet every four hours. Not a minute earlier.

Murmuring voices outside the door interrupted my thoughts. As the handle turned, I closed my eyes. Feigning sleep, my only way to hide.

Clicking dress shoes told me whoever entered wasn’t a scrubbed-up nurse or doctor. Mamma and Charlotte hadn’t been gone long enough. And Mamma wouldn’t eat fast food. She’d have found a booth for the two of them to sit down and eat casually.

Besides, I heard only one set of shoes on the tiled floor. Maybe it was someone with a clerical job to do. Coming for insurance information, perhaps. As the person drew closer, keeping my eyes shut became harder. The tighter I held them, the more they twitched.

I detected a man’s cologne, expensive like Paul’s but not the same brand. Behind it, the scent of musk. The way a man’s suit smelled after a long day at a desk. Perspiration mixed with Old Spice and office.

As soon as I opened my eyes, my heart stopped. Standing before the hospital bed was my cousin.

Matthew.

My face flushed hot as my heart crawled up my throat.

He wore a tailored suit subtly patterned in a dark plaid. His loosely curled locks shined from hair product. His Roman nose, distinctive.

“Hello, Gray,” he said, setting a glass vase of yellow tulips on the table beside my food tray. “I’m so sorry,” he added as he stood a card next to the etched crystal.

I couldn’t speak. My blood froze solid in my veins, and now my bottom lip trembled. Just like my hands beneath the scratchy quilt.

I’d awoken to a nightmare. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You wake to escape, to leave terrors behind in a place where they can’t find you or hurt you.

“After everything that’s happened—Paul and the rest. This?” His eyes appeared sullen and anguished. Despite the shock, I retained the wherewithal to doubt the sadness in them was for me.

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