Her hand covers her mouth. "They told you?"
"The doctor did. And then a cop came in and told me the whole story."
"Dean, I'm so sorry. I wanted to be the one to tell you but you were so out of it and then I didn't know if—"
"Brook, it's okay. I understand why you didn't tell me."
"But I should have.Ishould've told you, not the doctor. I was going to do it today. I was calling the hospital all morning, asking when they'd be moving you. When I found out they did, I raced over here to tell you."
"Don't worry about it." I take her hand. "They had me so high on drugs I'm sure I wouldn't have even remembered if you told me. Half the time when I heard someone beside me I couldn't tell if it was real or a dream."
"What about now?"
I smile, rubbing her hand, feeling her soft skin. "This is real."
"How do you feel?"
"I'm okay."
"Dean. It's me. How do you really feel?"
"Like shit but it's good. Means I'm healing."
"If you're in pain, tell them. They'll up your meds."
"I don't want the meds. They make me dizzy and tired. I need to be alert so I can figure out what the hell to do about Jake."
Brook sits on the side of my bed, looking down at our joined hands. "I'm so sorry, Dean. It was my fault. I should've went and got him at school. I wasn't even thinking."
"Brook, what the hell? Look at me."
Her eyes rise to mine, glistening with tears.
"This isn't your fault. Jake isn't your responsibility. And you didn't know my dad would go there. Or that the school had an early out that day. Even I didn't know that."
"Yes, but I knew it was your dad that did this to you. And I should've known he'd go to Jake next."
"Brook, stop blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault. My dad did this. He's probably been planning it for months. There's nothing you could've done."
"It doesn't feel that way. I feel like I could've prevented this."
"You couldn't. Even if you'd gotten Jake from school, my dad would've found him and taken him. He doesn't stop until he gets what he wants, and he takes out anyone who gets in his way. That would've been you, and if he'd hurt you—or even laid a hand on you—I'd have to kill him."
"Dean, don't say that. You'd never kill someone."
"I would've killed him when he attacked me if I'd had a gun."
"Then it'd be self-defense."
I'm not telling Brook this but I would've killed him even if it wasn't self defense, especially after he told me he wanted Jake.
"What happened that day?" she asks. "Can you tell me or do you not want to talk about it?"
The images flash in my head. His fist coming at me. Being thrown against the wall. Him digging the knife in my neck.
"I don't want to talk about it," I say, blinking several times in an attempt to make the images go away.
Brook nods. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."
