Knockout (18 page)

The city passed us by in a blur of lights and sounds. I didn’t see any of it. I don’t remember how long it took to get there, I only remember seeing the entrance lit in the distance and launching myself from the cab before it had stopped. Alexander didn’t even bother trying to keep up.

I burst through the doors and immediately started looking for Laney. I wasn’t surprised when I found her sitting in a chair with her face in her hands, her hair a
rat’s ness streaked with thin lines of blood. It looked so bright against her blond hair. Almost glowing.

“Laney,” I called calmly.

Her head shot up. When she spotted me with her red eyes surrounded by streaked makeup, she sobbed and leapt from the chair. She was in my arms in an instant, shaking and crying against my neck.

“Where is he?” I asked softly.

“Surgery.”

“Thank God,” I breathed.

He wasn’t dead. I had refused to believe it but until now, I had dreaded it.

“I have to call mom and dad,” Laney said, pulling back and swiping at her face. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell them.”

“I’ll call them, don’t worry. Let me talk to a doctor, find out what’s happening and then I’ll call them.”

“They said they’d be out soon with an update.”

“Okay, then we’ll wait.”

‘Soon’ turned out to be nearly two hours later. The three of us, Laney, Alexander and I, all sat together in a row staring blankly at a television playing game shows on
mute. Eventually I’d given up on the doctor and I called my parents. I knew they’d want to get on a flight out to New York as soon as possible and even though I felt bad being sketchy on the details, they needed to know.

Dad was calm and cool, always good in a crisis. I’d gotten it from him. I was glad I wouldn’t be there when he told mom. When he explained that the boy who had been like a son to her all these years was lying in a hospital across the country, clinging to life.

I glanced over at Laney, taking in her vacant expression, ruined evening dress and the bruises and cuts spotted all over her body. She’d taken a beating too but when the nurses had looked at her, they’d assured me no serious damage had been done. She was lucky. Her and the cab driver. They’d both walked away from the accident with no attention needed beyond Bactine and Band-Aids. Kellen and the drunk driver, however, were both in surgery. I looked away from Laney to check that the NYPD boy in blue was still standing by the reception desk, waiting. He was there, his face stoic. If that driver walked out of here, he’d do it in handcuffs.

He’d have to make it past me alive first.

“Miss Monroe?”

All of us stood up immediately when an older man in scrubs spoke to Laney. His face was impassive from years of experience handling ugly situations and giving bad news. I braced myself for the worst.

“How is he?” Laney asked shakily. She took my hand and pinched it hard.

“He’s stable,” the man said quietly. “They’re moving him into recovery. You can’t see him just yet, but we’ll keep you posted.”

“Will he be alright?”

His mouth tightened. I squeezed Laney’s hand painfully.

“We’ll have to wait and see. He suffered massive head trauma. His skull was fractured causing bone fragments to enter the brain. We’ve removed them but we have to watch out for cerebral edema. It’s a swelling in the brain. That’s our biggest concern. Right now we believe everything is clear but this is a crucial time. Things can change fast. I need you to be ready for that.”

“When can we see him?” Laney demanded. “When will he wake up?”

“I’m not sure. As I said, things can change quickly. He could wake up as soon as the anesthesia wears off, or it could longer. Quite a bit longer.”

“If ever?” I croaked, reading between the lines and speaking through my rapidly closing throat.

He nodded to me solemnly. “Exactly, yes.”

“Wait, what?” Laney shrieked.

“With head injuries this extensive there is the possibility that he will not wake up.”

“But you said he’s stable. He’s alive.”

“Machines are helping him breathe right now. His heartbeat is there but it’s weak. Now that he’s out of surgery he may get stronger or he may decline. There’s no way of knowing. Not yet.”

Laney groaned as she buried her face in her hands. I held her against me and let her cry into my shoulder again as Alexander shook hands with the doctor, thanking him. Then it was just us again. Just us and the ticking clock.

The long night cruised past morning and turned into mid-afternoon. Alexander went and found food for us, something to drink. I ate it but I didn’t taste it. Laney refused hers. Finally my parents showed up. Laney and mom cried together loudly in the middle of the waiting room as dad, Alexander and I waited patiently, looking at the floor. Nurses appeared with updates. He was still stable. No signs of swelling yet. As far as shit situations went, things were going well.

Alexander had to work in the morning and he hadn’t slept most of last night, so around dinner time he made his goodbyes. I hugged him tightly before he left. I thanked him hoarsely for everything he’d done. For being there. He kissed my cheek and told me to keep him posted.

My parents got a hotel room just minutes from the hospital. Dad talked mom into taking Laney there where he’d had our things brought over from our other hotel. She needed to shower and change out of her blood stained clothes. She also needed to rest. I was pretty sure mom was going to slip her an Ambien.

For six hours after that it was just dad and I in the waiting room. We didn’t talk much. We stared at the clock and we rose when the nurses came, but we didn’t have
much to say. Finally, over twenty-four hours after I’d arrived at the hospital, we were told we could see him.

“You’ll have to wear scrubs,” the nurse warned us. “You’ll be in a sterile area. He’s still unconscious and there’s a lot of bruising and swelling around his face. His bandages will be a shock as well. Can you handle it?”

I nodded my head firmly. “I can handle it.”

“Alright. One at a time. Who’s first?”

Dad pressed his hand to the small of my back, pushing me forward. “She is.”

“Are you the fiancé?” the woman asked.

“No. But I am family.”

“Alright. Follow me.”

“Tell him we’re here,” dad called to me as I followed her. “Let him know we’re all right here with him.”

“But he’s unconscious,” I protested weakly, feeling suddenly afraid to be going alone.

“He’ll hear you.” He managed a strained, sad smile. “If he hears anyone, it will be you.”

The nurse led me down a long corridor and into a small exam room. There were green scrubs laying on the bed. Booties, cap and all. She waited patiently while I put on the gear with trembling hands. It was cold in this corridor but I was a nervous wreck on top of it. Once I was dressed, the nurse led me farther into the building. Deeper into the cold. I know they kept certain areas cold, especially around surgery, because it helped deter infection and bacteria growth, but I had the soul shattering thought that it felt like we were walking toward the morgue. I worried that the woman was wrong about Kellen. That he was dead and I was being shown the body. Tears stung my eyes as my breathing stopped, blurring the woman’s form ahead of me until I could hardly see clear enough to walk straight.

When she turned to show me into a door on the corridor, she hesitated.

“Are you alright?”

I swiped roughly at my eyes, nodding vigorously. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You can take a minute. Breathe deeply. Exhale slowly.”

I did as she said. I went so far as to put my hand against the wall to steady me. When my body and brain recovered, when they accepted we weren’t waiting outside the morgue, I stood up straight.

“Thank you,” I mumbled to her.

She smiled kindly. “You’re welcome. Now remember what I told you. And don’t touch him anywhere but on his hand. Only his left. His right is casted.”

“He broke it?”

“Badly. Yes.”

I nodded in understanding, but I wondered what that would mean for boxing. Would it ever heal entirely? Would he still be able to compete? Then I remembered he’d quit and I felt more anxious for him than before.

The nurse brought me into a small room where I could see a bed sticking out from behind a curtain. There were other curtains drawn nearby. Other patients recovering in seclusion. She led me to Kellen’s corner. Her hand was on my elbow the entire way.

When I saw him I nearly collapsed. He looked like absolutely shit. Like death had come for him, worked him over to within an inch of his life and left him hanging by a thread just to toy with him. But that was the thing. That was what nearly dropped me to the ground.

He was alive.

I chuckled/laughed/sobbed before putting my hands to my mouth. I felt like screaming in joy and vomiting in agony looking at him. The entire top of his head was wrapped in white. Some of the bandages looped down low over his right eye. His eyes, his deep as the bottom of the ocean eyes were blackened all around in harsh bruises that streaked down over his cheekbones. His nose had been broken. Again. His upper lip was cut badly, a small white bandage holding it together with the help of slick black stitches. His arm was in a cast as the nurse had warned me. I couldn’t see his chest or legs. I didn’t know what other damage had been done. Maybe none. Maybe more than I could imagine.

“You’re okay?”

I nodded my head. “I’m good.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you alone. You have five minutes.”

I didn’t ask why the time was so short. I didn’t tell her that I wanted to stay beside him until… I didn’t know. Until forever? I never wanted to leave him, at least not until he opened his eyes and told me to go. Even then I might not listen.

When the nurse left, I walked slowly around the bed until I stood beside his left hand. Looking down at his bare arm I was surprised at how perfect it looked. Compared to his face, the few small scratches I saw on his skin were shocking. I ran my fingertips down from his shoulder slowly, dragging them over the unmarred areas until I reached his hand. I slipped mine in it gently. I wove my fingers in with his. I held onto him.

“Hey, Kel,” I said softly. “You gave us a scare. You can’t do that shit. Laney called me and said you were… she was freaking out and acting insane.” I grinned down at his blank, battered face. “I can tell you’re not surprised. Me either. She’s really worried, though. I was too, but now that I see you, I know you’re going to be alright. You’ll pull through this. Mom and dad are here with us and we’re all banking on you walking out of here soon. You’re going to do it, right? You have to. You will.” I sniffed and shook my head, tears flying off my cheeks. Tears I hadn’t realized I was shedding. “You know how I know you can beat this? Because you’re not just a boxer. You’re a scrapper. You’re a pisser.” My hand tightened on his as my voice broke and fell into a whisper. “You’re a fucking fighter.”

He coded twenty minutes later.

We didn’t find out until an hour after, not until his heart was restarted for the second time and he was back in surgery. Mom and Laney were with us again. They were just in time to hear the news that the worst had happened.

His brain was swelling. And it was growing fast.

The next several hours were painful. Mom and Laney cried quietly until their tears dried up and they sat as silently as dad and I. I was numb inside. I couldn’t go to the place where it hurt and I understood what was happening. I’d be a mess. I’d fall apart worse than Laney and it wasn’t the time for that. I had to be strong. I had to hold onto hope.

Finally a new doctor came out and told us the news. Kellen was stable again but this had been a warning. It could happen again. It was more than likely that it would. Bottom line – we needed to be prepared to say goodbye.

This time they didn’t make us wait as long to see him after surgery. Dad went in with Laney. They came back out not long after and mom and I went in to see him. I didn’t speak to him this time. I stood beside his broken arm and watched as my mom whispered softly. She told him Laney was okay and that he would be too. That they’d get him home to the sunshine and the ocean as soon as they could. She also told him she was going to destroy his motorcycle the second she could get her hands on it. It made me smile watching her tell a grown man nearly twice her size that she was taking his toy away. I think it would have made Kellen smile too.

If only he could have heard it.

After that scare things leveled out. Hours turned into mornings, afternoons and sleepless nights. Then those became days and days bled into weeks. Two weeks after it happened dad had to go home to work but mom, Laney and I stayed behind and lived at the hotel. We were at the hospital in shifts – two of us always waiting while the third was sleeping with a phone at the ready in their hand. It was no way to live and we all looked gaunt and sickly be the end of the first week, but it was the only way. That man in that bed belonged to each of us in our way and we weren’t leaving him. Part of me tried to stay prepared to take him home. To fly back with a casket filled full of empty in the hollow belly of a steel bird. It was hard to think like that, but even though I was hopeful, I was also a realist.

“The bruises are fading,” mom mentioned one afternoon as we waited together. Kellen had been moved to a private room thanks his stable condition and my dad’s deep pockets. Mom and I were sitting in chairs on opposite sides of his bed listening to the soft beep of his machines and the wind blowing hard outside. “The swelling in his face has gone down. That’s a good sign.”

I nodded in agreement. “I think so.”

“The cut on his lip is going to scar.”

“More than likely.”

“It’s a shame. He’s such a beautiful boy.”

“He still will be.”

“I know. Scars add character. I wish he’d get his nose fixed though. It’s all that fighting that did it to him. Seems so pointless,” she muttered with distaste.

“Not to him.”

“No, but thank goodness Laney put a stop to it. And now with his hand.”

I cringed thinking of his casted right hand. “Yeah, I know.”

“He’s right handed, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

Mom sighed in dismay. “Well, hopefully it will heal well.”

I only nodded. I was feeling weighed down by the conversation. I was bone tired and so spent emotionally that I could hardly see straight. I wanted a drink or a break or both, but that wasn’t how this worked. You waited and you worried and wasted away until there was hardly anything holding you up anymore.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, startling me.

It was a text from Alexander.

How are you?

Exhausted. You?

Worried about you. Do you guys need anything?

Good news.

There was a pause. I felt bad. It was a weight to throw on him that I shouldn’t have thrown. What could he say? He wasn’t God or a doctor or Kellen. He couldn’t make this situation right and I was a jerk for making him feel like he should.

But just as I was texting an apology, my phone buzzed again.

He’s still alive.

I pressed my hand over my mouth as I swallowed a shuddering sob.

That is the best news. Thank you for that reminder.

You’re welcome. I’m here if you need me anything, okay?

Ok.

“Was that Laney?” mom asked as I pocketed my phone.

I shook my head. “No. Alexander.”

Mom smiled affectionately. “He’s a good man.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“It’s a shame—“

“Don’t start,” I snapped, feeling instantly frustrated. I couldn’t have this talk with her again. “It didn’t work out, he’s a friend now, just let it go.”

Mom looked at me with a stern eye. “I was going to say, before you interrupted me, that it’s a shame he’s still single. I had hoped he’d meet a girl when he moved out here. He’s the kind of man who wants to be settled down and having children. It’s too bad it hasn’t happened for him yet.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t interrupt people, least of all me.”

“I know. I said I’m sorry.”

“Alright.”

“And you’re right,” I said quietly. “It is a shame he hasn’t found the right girl yet.”

"Hmm."

"What?"

"Nothing. You said we're not talking about it."

The woman could not help herself.

I threw my head back in frustration. "I wasn't the right girl for him."

"You could have been."

"If only I weren't me," I said bitingly.

"No, if only you weren't in love with the wrong man."

My blood ran cold. I lowered my face slowly. "What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," she said, her voice growing hard. "You've been pining over him since you met him. It's hurtful to Laney, it's confusing for him, it's unfair to Alexander and it's sad as well."

"I’m not in love with him," I said quietly.

"You keep telling yourself that. You're the only one who believes it."

"Why are you bringing this up now?"

"Because I'm wondering when you'll grow up."

"I am grown up, mom. Like it or not, this is it. This is me."

Mom shook her head, looking away. "Well that's sad too."

We stopped talking after that. I went to the bathroom and when I came back I sat on the other side of the room from her. I couldn't stand to be near her. She'd never spoken that way to me before. I knew she was tired and stressed out, that that made people say things they didn't mean, but I doubted that was all of it. I think she had finally gotten some things off her chest that had been weighing down on her. Hopefully it made her feel better because now I felt like shit.

We met Laney in the waiting area an hour later. We made sure we all went outside whenever we did a changing of the guard. It was part of the reason dad insisted we keep the hotel room and not sleep in the room with Kellen. He wanted us to get outside the hospital now and then, even if it was to sleep.

"Did you sleep well, sweetheart?" mom asked Laney.

"Decent. Any news here?"

"Nothing has changed, no."

"Well, that's better than the swelling coming back, I guess." She turned to me, giving me a reassuring smile. "Your turn to sleep, Jenna. I ordered room service before I left. I told them to bring it up in twenty minutes so it should be there not long after you get back. I got you
French fries. Lots of them."

I gave her a hug, feeling unusually affectionate and grateful for her. "Thanks, Laney."

She hugged me back tightly. "You're welcome."

A door behind us burst open. Laney and I both turned toward it in surprise, our arms still wrapped around each other. There was a familiar looking nurse standing there. She looked frantic.

My heart stopped in my chest.

"Miss
Monroe?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yes?" Laney replied, her voice sounding small.

"Come with me quickly."

Laney stepped toward her hesitantly. "Is he awake?"

"No," the nurse replied. Then she smiled. "But he is talking."

"What?"

"Laney, go!" I cried, shoving her forward.

She looked back at me with fear and confusion in her eyes. She glanced at mom, then back to me.

"Come with me. Both of you, please come with me."

I looked at the nurse. "Is that okay?"

"Yes, but let's move," she said, already heading back through the door. "I don't know how long this will last."

We ran behind her down the corridors until we found his room. My heart was slamming in my chest. I felt like I'd run uphill. My chest was tight with anxiety, my limbs jelly that barely held me up. When we got into his room I nearly collapsed.

I could hear him.

His deep voice was murmuring quietly. I couldn't understand him. Mom and I stood at the end of the bed as Laney approached him slowly.

"Kellen," she called out softly. "Baby, can you hear me?"

He paused in his mumblings as though he were listening.

"Kellen?" she tried again.

He began to speak again, this time a little louder.

Laney looked back at the nurse, her face pained. "He's not making any sense. It's gibberish."

"No," I whispered.

I moved to take a step around the bed. I wanted to get closer. I had to hear him better.

Mom grabbed my arm, her eyes hard on me. "Let Laney handle it."

I shook her off roughly. "She doesn't understand what he's saying."

"Neither will you. He's confused. It's nonsense."

"No, it's French."

Laney looked at me in surprise. "It is?"

"Yeah," I told her gently. "He just said something about ice cream."

"Come here," Laney demanded, grabbing my arm and pushing me in front of her. Toward Kellen. "What else is he saying? Can you talk to him? Tell him I’m here. Tell him to wake up!"

I leaned in close, putting my ear nearly to Kellen's mouth to hear him. The deep timber of his voice vibrated through his breath, into my ear and down to my marrow. I smiled at the sound. At the familiar feel. God, I'd missed it. I missed him.

"What is he saying?" Laney insisted.

"Puis-je avoir de la crème glacée pour le petit déjeuner??"

I chuckled. "He keeps asking for ice cream for breakfast."

"Tell him not until he wakes his ass up."

"S'il vous plaît, maman," he pleaded.

I stood up straight, staring down at him. At his man's face, his large body and the child locked inside.

"He's talking to his mom," I told them.

My mom gasped. Laney grabbed my hand and held it tight.

"Oh, Kellen," she moaned.

"Is his mother alive?" the nurse asked quietly.

I shook my head, unable to look away from his face. He continued to speak, asking for ice cream and pleading with his mother.

I don't know what possessed me, but I leaned over and pressed my cheek to his, my lips close to his ear.

"Pas jusqu'à ce que vous vous réveillez," I whispered to him.

Not until you wake up.

"Il est trop tôt," he complained.

It's too early.

My heart went wild in my chest. He could hear me!

I grinned, my cheek scraping across the shadow of stubble on his face. It reminded me of a night that now felt so impossibly long ago. Not just years or even lives, but eons ago. The world had changed since then. It had been burned up by the sun, reduced to ash and reborn as something new and strange. Older and wiser.

"Ensuite, il est trop tôt pour la crème glacée," I chided softly.

Then it's too early for ice cream.

"Jamais."

Never.

"Réveiller."

Wake up.

"Aucun."

No.

"S'il vous plaît."

Please.

"Pourquoi?"

Why?

I laid my hand on his chest, followed the slow rise and fall. I could feel his heartbeat. Steady. Strong. Mine ached in my chest feeling hollow. Empty.

"Parce que Je t'aime," I whispered brokenly.

Becuase I love you,

"Et que vous êtes absent de moi."

And you are missing from me.