Don't Make Me Beautiful (12 page)

The dark clouds move in swiftly.
 
“No. Never call me that.”
 
She wants to scream again in frustration.
John
.
 
He controlled every bit of her life, even how she was named.
 
It never mattered what she wanted.

Brian reaches up and gently pushes some hair away from her face.
 
“I won’t.
 
I promise, Briana.”

“That’s a really lame fake name,” she says, trying to lighten the mood.

He smiles, almost sadly.
 
“I guess I’m not very creative.”

Before she can respond, two men and a woman are coming through the door, one of the men is in scrubs and the other is wearing a police uniform.
 
The woman is carrying a clipboard and wearing a business suit.
 
Nicole rests just a little easier as soon as she realizes none of them is John.

Chapter Seventeen

AFTER THE POLICE OFFICER TRIES to get Nicole to tell him what happened and she refuses, a doctor and nurse evaluate Nicole, giving her the news that she’ll be moving to another floor and then going home soon after.

Brian has no time to discuss any of it with Nicole before they leave the room and a woman from the hospital billing department begins saying her bit.
 
She’s skinny and heavily made up, wearing a badge that says she’s Joanne Jones.
 
The smell of cigarette smoke hangs around her.
 
She’s all business from the moment she enters.
 
With very little preamble, she launches into her you-have-bills-that-need-to-be paid lecture.

Nicole sits in the bed in shock.
 
Halfway through the woman’s spiel, she closes her eyes and falls asleep.

Brian speaks up.
 
“She’s on painkillers right now.
 
She’s probably not going to remember any of this.”

“Well, she needs to know it, regardless. And I need a signature on several forms I have.”

“She doesn’t have insurance,” says Brian, getting irritated with the woman.
 
“And her arm is broken, so I don’t think you’re going to get her signature today.”

“Well, that’s going to be a problem. Care in the ICU is expensive.”
 
She taps her pen on the clipboard in her other arm.
 
“She can sign with her other hand.”

Brian can’t help but snort at that.
 
“Yeah, right.
 
Once they take the needle out of it.
 
Speaking of costs, care anywhere in this place is expensive.
 
But you give a discount to cash payers, right?”

The woman’s lips tighten.
 
“We do what we can to make our care affordable.”

Brian gestures to Nicole and speaks quietly.
 
“She’s been abused for a long time.
 
Her injuries are extensive and they’re going to take a lot of care.”

“I realize that.”
 
The woman’s voice and expression soften somewhat.
 
“I’ve seen her chart.
 
That doesn’t change the fact that the care costs money.”

“Don’t you have a foundation or something that contributes to cases like this?”

“Nothing sponsored by the hospital, but there might be something out there in the community.
 
That’s up to you to find, though.
 
I have nothing to do with that.”

“So what do we do in the meantime?”

“You tell me how you’re going to pay for the care she’s already received.
 
You’re her brother, right?”

“Yes.
 
How about if I come see you later in your office and we discuss the details then? I’m not sure this conversation is something she needs to hear right now.
 
I’m worried it will interfere in her healing.”

The woman nods once.
 
“That’s fine.
 
Here’s my card.
 
You can come see me tomorrow.
 
Just call first to make sure I’m in the office.”

“Will do.
 
And thanks.
 
If you come across any services that could help, get the info for me, would you?”

“Yes.
 
I will.”

The woman leaves the room and Brian sits down, staring at Nicole. What’s happened to her is so unfair. Feelings of protectiveness overwhelm him as he pictures the hospital just kicking her out because she doesn’t have the money to pay for something that someone else did to her.
 
That asshole should pay
.
 
Brian’s lips press into a thin line as he considers his options.

Stepping outside the room, he pulls out his cell phone, using the speed dial for his ex-wife.

“Hello, Brian, what’s up?” she says as a greeting.

“Hey, Helen. Listen, I have a little situation here, and I wanted to get your input.”

“Oh, yeah?
 
Tell me.”

“Well, it’s kind of complicated.
 
And big.
 
Really big.”

“Hmmm, now you have me intrigued.”
 
She pauses and then says away from the phone, “Liam, please … go outside with that, would you?
 
You’re giving me a headache.”

Brian smiles, knowing exactly what his son is doing and happy that Helen is the one dealing with it today.
 
“First of all, I need to know if you can keep Liam for a few more days.
 
Maybe a week.”

“Whaaaat?
 
Are you crazy?
 
You know what my schedule’s like.”

“I know.
 
You
know
I know, and that I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really, really important.”

“Wow.
 
Sounds major.
 
You’ve never asked me to keep Liam longer. What … did you meet the woman of your dreams or something?
 
Gonna run off to Jamaica and get married?”
 
She laughs at her own joke but then stops abruptly.
 
“Seriously.
 
Are you doing that?
 
I probably shouldn’t joke about it.
 
If you are, congrats.
 
I’m happy for you if she’s nice.
 
I’m pissed if she’s not.”

“No, don’t be ridiculous.
 
I don’t even have a girlfriend.
 
But it does involve a woman and … it’s just complicated.”

She switches to her lawyer voice.
 
“Well un-complicate it if you want my help.
 
Tell me what’s going on.”

“Nutshell version … one of our neighbors is in the hospital.
 
She’s been horribly beaten by her boyfriend. I’m here in the hospital with her for now, and then I’m going to bring her to my place to recuperate.”

“Like hell you are!”
 
Helen schools her voice and brings it down a notch.
 
“You’re not bringing some woman with a crazed abuser after her into my son’s home.
 
That’s not going to happen.”

“Helen, it’s going to be fine.
 
She lives on another street, and he’ll never know she’s here.
 
We’ll keep the blinds shut, and she won’t go outside. It’s only temporary.
 
Besides, you know I’d never put Liam in harm’s way.
 
Don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like anything.
 
I’m being a mother, and I expect you to act like a father, not some … superhero or whatever.”

“I’m
being
a father.
 
And a good person, which is what a father should be so his son learns how to be one too.
 
What would you rather me do?
 
Send her back home to get killed?”

“Of course not.
 
Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then where? She has nowhere to go, or she would have already been there.
 
Helen, you have to see her.
 
She’s been turned into a monster.”

“What the hell does that mean?
 
Is she psychotic?”

“No, not at all.
 
She seems very sweet.
 
But she’s been beaten over years. Her face … it’s just … awful is the only way to describe it.
 
Her face is awful.
 
Deformed.
 
Like, permanently.”

Helen is silent for so long Brian wonders if she’s still on the line.
 
“Helen?
 
Hello?”

“I’m here.
 
I’m just thinking.”

“Please, Helen?
 
You know I never ask you for anything.
 
I do everything you ask of me without complaint.”

“I know, jerk.
 
You don’t need to remind me.”

“Are you calling me a jerk because you’re considering helping me out?”

“Just shut up and let me think for a minute, would you?
 
Jesus.
 
You’re totally stressing me out over this, you know.
 
Like I don’t have enough crap at work to deal with … I don’t need this too.”
 
She sighs.
 
“What to do, what to do, what to do…”

“I hear that tone in your voice.
 
Better be careful.
 
You’re going to tire out the hamster.”
 
He battles to keep the grin out of his voice.

“Hamster?
 
What hamster?”

“The one on the exercise wheel powering your brain.”
 
He can’t help it; he laughs at his own teasing.
 
She hates it when he defuses her anger with lame jokes.
 
She always said a man as big and tough as he is shouldn’t act goofy, but at the same time, she always laughed too.
 
That was the one thing they always had in common and it hasn’t changed; they both like to laugh.

She sighs heavily.
 
“I’ll call you back.”

“Are you mad?”

“No. I’m frustrated with your superhero complex and wishing my life was a lot less complicated, but I’m not mad.”

“I’m no superhero,” says Brian, suddenly feeling sad.

“Tell that to the girl you’re rescuing,” Helen says, just before disconnecting the call.

Chapter Eighteen

NICOLE LOOKS AT BRIAN, STILL sitting in the chair next to her bed.
 
The last day or so has passed in a haze of painkillers and conversations she only half-remembers.
 
The woman asking her for money hasn’t come back; that’s the only bit of good news she’s had lately.
 
All the rest has her terrified, especially that police officer that’s come back twice now trying to get her to confess to what happened.
 
She continues to refuse, knowing it will lead John right to her.

Brian looks up from his Kindle.
 
“Oh, you’re awake.
 
Good.”
 
He smiles big.
 
“How’re you feeling?”

“Better.
 
A tiny bit better.”
 
She tries to smile back but her split lip is still too sore.

“Ready to go home?” he asks.

She has a near heart attack before he rushes to correct himself.

“I mean, are you ready to leave?
 
To go to your
new
home?”

“No,” she says, breathing easier, “I’m not ready for any of that.”

He gives her a commiserating frown.
 
“I know.
 
But it’s going to be okay.
 
You just need to trust me.”

“You’ve said that a few times.”
 
She picks at the covers on her leg, trying to move past the awkward moment.

“Yes, I guess I have.
 
Sorry.
 
Just tell me when I’m being annoying.
 
I can’t guarantee I’ll stop, but I’ll try.”

“I don’t even know you.”
 
She feels angry for some reason.
 
He’s being so nice.
 
She’s not used to nice.

“Do you need to?”

“Yes?
 
I think?
 
Don’t I?”

“I’m a person, you’re a person.
 
We’re both here in this world just trying to get by, be with people we care about, be good to others.
 
I’m that guy.
 
What else do you need to know for right now?”

“For right now?”

“Yeah.
 
For the period of time it takes you to get back on your feet.
 
What do you need to know, other than that?”

“I need to know who you are, what you do, about your background … everything.”

“Why?”

“Because! Because …”
 
She tries to think of all the reasons why, but she can’t come up with anything.
 
Tears come again.
 
It seems she never runs out of the damn things.

Brian puts his Kindle down on the table and walks over to the bed, taking her hand.
 
“You can know whatever you want about me.
 
I’m an open book.
 
Ask me anything you want.”

“Where are you from?”

“I grew up in upstate New York, but I moved down here with my parents in high school.
 
I’ve lived here ever since.”

“What do you do for a living that makes it okay for you to be here all this time?
 
Aren’t you going to get fired?”

“No,
 
I’m self-employed.
 
I re-finish furniture and antiques.
 
I have a workshop at my house and a storage facility for bigger things not far away from my house. I have all the time in the world that I need to be here, so don’t worry about that.”

“Where are your parents now?”

“Dead.
 
As of three years ago.
 
They went within two weeks of each other.”