“Okay,” she pouts.
“Good, you’re as much use to me out here as you are in there.” I kiss her cheek, and she smiles sadly.
“Just bring my best friend back, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.”
***
“I’m here to see Arianna Fraser,” I say to the night staff at the desk.
“I’m sorry, sir, visiting time is over. You’ll have to come back tomorrow,” she replies professionally.
“Look,” I say sharply, my patience is near nonexistent and I’m trying my hardest to contain my anxiety. “I need to see her, and I’m not leaving until I do so.”
“Sir, I’ve told you there is no visiting now. Do I need to call security?”
“For fuck’s sake,” I grate out, dipping my hand into my pocket. Maybe I can buy my way in.
Aaron then lets out a howling cry and drops to the floor. My hand instinctively flies to the gun at the back of my jeans, but I don’t pull it out. I catch Aaron’s eye, and he flicks his head toward the corridor, before crying out again. The nurse rushes from behind her station and calls out for someone to come and help her. Within a minute, there are three nurses surrounding him, trying to ascertain what the problem is.
He’s not in pain, he’s providing a distraction. It’s that moment that solidifies that he’s helping us and not leading me into something I might not be able to get out of.
Jack and I run down the corridor and into the first wing on the left. There’s a whiteboard over the nurses’ station with room numbers and patients’ names.
“Room four. Jack. Room four,” I call out.
We run to her room, and burst through the door, stopping abruptly when I see her lying there. There’s a nurse tending to her, and Arianna looks so pale and helpless. She’s hooked up to a drip. There’s a monitor attached to her, measuring her heart rate. There’s a steady bleep echoing around the room, but that’s the only sound. She doesn’t open her eyes at the intrusion.
“Excuse me, sir,” the nurse snaps, turning a hard glare to me.
“I’m sorry. I … is she okay?”
“And you are?”
“I’m her…shit…I’m her fiancé,” I say, thinking it’s the only way she’ll tell me what’s wrong with her. I stand by the side of her bed and reach out to touch her face.
“But, the other guy,” the nurse answers confused.
It looks like I need to tell her the truth, and hope she believes me. “Look, I need to know what’s wrong with her, and if she can be moved. That other guy is her ex fiancé who beat her to within an inch of her life just a few years ago,” I explain, hoping it’s enough for her to not stop me.
“I remember,” she whispers.
“You do?”
“Yes,” she says sadly. “I was the one who sat with her every day. So when she came in this evening…”
“Okay, then you’ll know that I’m telling the truth,” I say, and she nods. “What’s he done this time?” I ask, not wanting to hear it, but I have to know.
“It wasn’t him this time. It was her. She tried to take her own life.”
“She, what? She ... how? Will she be okay?”
My girl. She…it was so bad that she didn’t want to be here anymore.
“She took sedatives, too many. But luckily for her, they were low dose. We’ve pumped her stomach and we have her hooked up to an IV, but she’ll be okay. She’s gonna be out of it for a while.”
“Can we move her?”
