Normally I'd give him shit for shortening my name since it's what my father used to call me before beating me unconscious. But this isn't coming from that fucker. It's coming from someone else. Someone I let get away with a lot more shit than anyone else, and when I look back at him, all it takes is those big blue eyes melting into mine for me to be certain I always will.
Eighteen
Patrick
I wait and wait, expecting someone to come. But no one other than nurses walk through that door. I search Glenn's hand for a ring but there isn't one. I don't see one with his belongings either. Not everyone wears one so maybe they are those very few who choose not to. I could see my brother fitting in that category with him being a person who never cared much for jewelry.
I remember when we were teens and my mom gave us necklaces for Christmas. He had told her that he didn't like his neck being weighed down. That could be the case with the wedding band but it also could be that he was never married to begin with. What if he wasn't? Then this would be another case of me being an idiot for not asking enough questions.
More hours pass and the sunlight fades outside the window. I check the time on my phone, wondering where Nicolas is and then the room door snicks open.
“Hey. Right where I left you,” he says, hanging in the doorway.
My lips tilt. “Hey. Find anything?”
He glances behind him and then at me. “We'll talk more about it in the truck.”
“Okay.” Standing up off the chair, I lift my brother's blanket up and squeeze his arm. “I'll be back tomorrow, D. I promise. Nothing will keep from here again.”
“Something might,” Nicolas's tone holds something ominous and as voice comes on the speakers about visiting hours being over, I follow him out the door, shutting it after giving my brother one last glance.
“You're really going to make me wait until we are in your truck.” I side eye him in the elevator and he doesn’t say anything, stepping out as soon as the doors pull apart.
“Come on. We have to stop by the vet and see how Mr. Wiggles are doing.”
My heart jumps in my throat. “What do you mean?”
“Someone drugged him while they were snooping through your brother's house. They gave him too much and his stomach had to be pumped. I found him barely moving when I arrived.”
“What? Oh, fuck. Who would do that?”
“Someone who didn't like having him in their way.”
My skin crawls. “I…I think I'm going to be sick.” I hunch forward as soon as we're in the trunk and I grip at my knees. My breaths leave my throat too quickly and I choke as I inhale.
Nicolas rubs my back and the truck roars to life. “He's going to be okay.”
I lean more forward, my head hitting the dash as I stretch the seat belt to the limit. “Everything's falling apart. It just gets worse and worse.”
He quickly backs out and picks up speed when merging onto the road. “We'll be there soon. I know it might feel like everything is bad now but soon this will all be a thing in the past.”
I hope he's right. His words offer me a little comfort, the heavy weight lifting higher off my chest when I'm finally sitting in the same room with my dog with my face laying near his. He's heavily sedated but the vet says he's going to be okay and will have to stay for observation. It's better to leave him here anyway.
Nicolas sits beside me, his leg bumping mine and everything goes from falling apart to slowly piecing back together.
Nineteen
Nicolas
It's dark out when we finally leave the vet. Stars light up the sky and Patrick is too worn down to point out what a pretty night is. There's no light in his eyes and no pep in his dragging steps. I don't like it. Not one bit. They are taking too much from him or at least trying to.
“Want me to fix you something to eat?”
He shakes his head, rubbing at his gloomy face. “No. I'm too tired to eat.”
I can tell it's a different kind of exhaustion. One that requires more than sleep. He needs to feel reason to hope again but is plagued by fear and defeat. I'm going to fix it. I haven't done a good job so far but now that I know who this mysterious husband is, I have a better chance.
He was never Glenn's husband. They were dating but Glenn broke it off. At least it's the gossip I got at the bar when I pretended to go day drinking and flirting with the bartender who's flirted with me every other time I'dbeen in there. It was too easy to get him talking. To have all the info I needed to confirm what I already knew deep down.