Me:You can come to the house. Carter is being discharged shortly. I know you work for all of us, but I’m asking you not to tell Killian if he isn’t at the house when we get there. I don’t want to deal with him until I have to.
Butch:Not a word, boss. See you there.
The nurse finally comes in, and I can see my brother biting his tongue as she hands him two prescriptions.
“These need to be taken daily. This is a thirty-day supply. You’ll need to see your PCP for a psych referral.”
Carter nods, even though we both know that’s not going to happen. While here, he has had no choice but to take anantidepressant and the antipsychotic the doctor prescribed, but he won’t continue taking them. It’s a never-ending cycle with Carter. He is prescribed medication, but he stops taking it after he’s released from the hospital. Until they give him something that gets rid of the touch aversion, he won’t take it.
She flashes him a soft smile and says, “Good luck, Mr. Bonetti. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
She moves to touch his shoulder, and he flinches. Luckily, she retracts her hand and turns, and leaves. It pisses me off because they still don’t fucking get it. I’ve told them repeatedly not to touch him. This is the problem Carter has always had. People don’t fucking listen.
Except her.
Heather somehow understood Carter's issues even though they weren’t her own. She was always respectful of his boundaries—more so than Carter himself.
My chest squeezes as I remember once again the perfect fucking girl we lost.
My brother notices and says, “Don’t focus on that right now. We will finish what she started. This is for her—we will protect those kids because it’s what she would’ve wanted. Kill now. Cry later.”
I nod as we walk down the hallway to the elevator. Taking a deep breath, I press the button for the first floor after we both step inside.
We walk out of the hospital into the fresh air, and I inhale deeply, welcoming it. I have barely left Carter’s side since that night. I’ve slept in a chair beside his bed for over a month. My days and nights have been difficult at best. I’m exhausted, but we have things to plan.
The drive home is quiet. I can tell Carter is lost in thought, so I don’t bother him. He is likely thinking of all the things he’s going to do to Heather's father. She never told us exactly whatshe had planned for him, but we can use our imagination. For her, his torture needs to be severe. And it will be.
I pull in beside the garage and immediately spot Butch’s car and am slightly relieved to not see Killian's. After I park, we both get out and greet our longtime employee. I disarm the alarm, and we all walk inside together. Butch follows us into the lounge with a folder in his hand. I’m curious about what’s in it, but don’t ask, knowing we will both find out soon enough.
I grab three beers and hand one each to both Carter and Butch before opening my own. Butch and I sit on the couch, and my brother takes a seat in the chair across from us. I spot him glancing at Carter, and I know he wants to ask if he’s okay, but he doesn’t.
“I’ve met with Killian, and he already has this information, but I knew you’d want it too.”
Carter and I are both silent as we wait for him to tell us what he has found.
“Heather is not dead.”
I look at my brother as he sobs into his hands, feeling the same relief I am. I can’t help the smile that forms on my face. Of course. We should have known because our woman is a fucking survivor. If anyone is going to live through a gunshot to the chest—it would be her.
“She was transported to St. Dymphna’s Asylum.”
Carter's sobs turn from joy to terror for our girl.
That place will be a constant trigger for her. According to Carter, who was sent there in the past—it’s constant prayer, kneeling, and begging God for mercy. His special treatment involved repeated touching. The psychiatrist determined his issues were a demon controlling him. According to their ‘faith-based healing’ bullshit, trauma is not real, but Satan is.
Carter rises from his chair and paces back and forth.
“She can’t be there.” He says repeatedly.
“Killian is planning to get her out.”
I turn to him and ask the obvious question.
“How?”
Carter and I stare in shock at his next words.
“The same way he got Carter out.”
