Banner shakes his head at my silliness before moving back to the counter to grab my plate of food.
When he places it in front of me, I can’t help but laugh. “Am I supposed to eat this or climb it?”
“Just do the best you can. I’ll finish what you don’t,” he says as there is a knock at the door. “Please don’t let that be more food,” he grumbles as he heads off to answer it.
Katy waits until he’s out of earshot before she leans forward. “Thanks, Sorrow.”
“You’re gonna have moments, Katy. You found yourself smack in the middle of a fucked-up situation, and the people you should have been able to turn to were the ones who caused the drama. That said, I have no doubt you’ll figure it out and find a way to live the big, beautiful life you deserve.”
“Dammit, Sorrow, why you always gotta make me cry…” Her voice drifts off when Banner walks in with Wade, both of whom have blank expressions on their faces. Wade is in uniform, and I’m guessing this isn’t a social call.
“Tell me.”
“At 6:45 this morning, Denny Dickerson walked into Tempest PD and opened fire.”
Katy gasps as my blood runs cold.
“He shot and killed two officers and injured a third before turning the gun on himself.”
“Oh my God.”
“I’m sorry, but there’s more. Before he went to the police station, he went to Stephenson’s house. He beat the shit out of him while pumping him for the truth about his family history. Stephenson didn’t confirm anything, whether that was due to spite for hurting you or trying to protect Denny from the brutal truth, I have no idea.”
“How do you know all that?” I whisper.
“Harvey Stephenson was the chief of police for many years and, as such, made many enemies. He has cameras all over his home, inside and out.”
“Is he...did he?” I can’t bring myself to finish the rest.
Denny shot him twice, once in the chest and once in the head. He’s alive, but he’s in critical condition. I’m sorry, Sorrow, it doesn’t look good.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat, wondering if the man upstairs knew this was going to happen and nudged me to forgive Stephenson yesterday for this very reason. I think about him turning up for me yesterday and the guts it took for him to lay himself bare like that. I think about the fact that everyone has turned their back on him. And even though our situations are wildly different, I know all too well what that feels like.
I get to my feet, steel my shoulders, and dare anyone to argue with me when I speak. “Take me to the hospital. If Stephenson thinks he’s getting off that easy, the man has another thing coming.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
SORROW
I put down the book when I see his fingers twitch. I stare at them, wondering if I’m hallucinating. When they move again, I jump to my feet and run to the door, yanking it open.
I spot a nurse, a couple of feet away from me, and call out to her. “He moved his fingers.”
She looks up at me before hurrying over. As soon as she’s close enough, I start babbling. “I was reading to him, and he wiggled his fingers. At first, I thought I was imagining it, but then he did it again. I don’t know if he was telling me he liked the book or to pick something else?—”
When she lightly touches my arm, I shut up. “Take a deep breath, Sorrow, while I look him over.”
“Right, sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. You’ve spent most of your days here over the last two months. Sometimes we want things so much we think we see miracles.”
I take a deep breath so I don’t snap at her. The woman is making it sound like I’m crazy. I take a step back and let her doher thing. She looks him over before calling his name. When she gets no response, she looks at me with pity in her eyes.
I know what people are thinking. They think he’s already gone, that his body is here but his soul is flying above us, sighing in exasperation as I read smutty books to him. I can’t explain why I feel differently. Perhaps it’s because Wade was convinced he had signed a DNR, but no one has been able to find a record of it. Maybe it’s the fact that he has been shot in the head and yet he’s still breathing and functioning on his own. He’s being as stubborn as he can be and taking an extended nap. I’m not looking for a miracle because I believe we’ve already witnessed one. There is no way this man should be alive, and yet he is. So it seems crazy to me that people are so willing to write him off.
“It happens, Sorrow. You just need to adjust your expectations.” She pats my shoulder as she passes. Dear sweet baby Jesus, are all nurses this patronizing, or just the ones who like to eyeball my boyfriend?
I shake my head and look back at Stephenson, gasping when I see his eyes are open. “Oh my God.”
