THE END – KINGS OF LEON
Alone in thewhite-washed hospital room, I roll my head on my tense shoulders. The acute aches and pains from multiple strained muscles are relentless. Apparently, seizures do that to you.
At that thought, a quietly choked laugh breaks free. The secret that I spent so long hoping to hide has finally caught up to me. I’ve been caught red-handed and stamped with a fucking label.
During the years I managed these episodes alone, I never wanted to acknowledge the debilitating weakness that made me a liability to Gael. I had to lie. Hide. Conceal. Anything to keep my condition from him.
Lord knows, if he thought for even a second that he had a faulty product, a champion who could drop like a fly at any moment and cost him his earnings… Well, I’d be dead and buried. Lying became a necessity.
But that’s the thing about survival instincts. They don’t switch off once we’re safe. Ask anyone who has survived pure evil itself. The things we did to keep ourselves safe don’t vanish overnight.
They burrow. Cling on. Metastasise into silly rituals or easily told lies. A self-harmer may not cut themselves on a daily basis anymore, but they’ll still sleep with a knife beneath their pillow or keep a stash of pillsjust in case.
When the specialist returns, clipboard in hand, I work to summon a speck of patience. Doctor Fawn intervened several hours ago when my case was handed over to him after arriving at the emergency department in a semi-lucid daze.
“Ember. Out of bed I see. How are you feeling?”
“Brilliant,” I clap back.
“Bit stiff? Headache? Disorientated?”
Rather than create a lie that will only worsen my sore head, I simply nod. All of that and more. Beyond the physical aftereffects and exhaustion the seizure left behind, I feel raw and exposed.
“Thank you for your patience while we examined your test results. I know it’s been a long day for you.”
“I just want to go home. Can I leave now?”
“Not quite yet.” He takes the empty seat next to mine. “You have several visitors waiting outside. Would you like someone with you while we discuss these results?”
My first reaction is to decline. I don’t want anyone to hear whatever shit he has to say. I know it isn’t going to be good news. But the events of the last twelve hours give me pause.
The truth is my knife under the pillow. My stash of pills in the bedside table. I’ve kept it close and allowed it to hold a terrifying power over me, even after escaping Gael and his abuse.
When I broke down in that changing room, Warner begged me to let someone in. Literally anyone. I didn’t think I’d ever want that, but sitting here… drained, scared and in pain… I want someone.
“My brother,” I croak. “Is he here?”
“Allow me to go look. Wait here.”
Placing the clipboard down, Doctor Fawn leaves the room again. I’m left staring at the clipped paperwork he carried in. Those sheets hold my entire future in their individual grains.
At the sound of footsteps returning, I drag my gaze from my signed death warrant. I’m expecting Tom to rush in and engulf me. I asked the staff to hold him back with Hyland up until now.
When a warm hand encircles the back of my neck, patchouli and pine form a protective woodland around me. The soft touch vanishes, allowing Warner to stiffly take the spare seat next to me.
“You’re here?” I gawp at him.
“I have been for a couple of hours.” He searches my face. “The doctor’s just giving us a minute.”
“Where’s Tom?”
“He had to take a call outside. I didn’t want you to do this alone.”
Too overwhelmed to find adequate words, I try and fail to hold tears back. Heat spills down my cheeks, prompting Warner to swipe the moisture aside with his calloused thumb pad.
“Is everyone safe?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer yet needing to know.
“Everyone’s fine. We’ve taken six people into custody including Madden and the man you knocked out, Miguel.”
