Velocity (25 page)

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Authors: Abigail Boyd

BOOK: Velocity
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Eleanor leaned over me, peering into my face. Her cold, black eyes expressed concern. “This won’t do. We’re running out of time. Come on. Wake up.”

I realized that I’d been hurt. Pain, far away but insistent, was calling to me. I opened my eyes in the hospital again. Both of my wrists were bandaged, and I was hooked up to all kinds of machines. Saline dripped into a line in my hand. I couldn’t lift my head from the pillow without difficulty, but then it became easier.

A nurse came in, a short, middle-aged woman I’d never seen before. She was carrying a tray and a clipboard. She glanced up with a disinterested expression, which turned to surprise when she saw I was awake.

“You finally woke up,” she acknowledged gruffly, setting the tray down. “I’m here to check your vitals.”

“What’s going on?” I asked. I sounded like an old woman with an ashtray for a throat.

“Your neighbor found you after you…after you did what you did. Said he heard a commotion.”

“What did I do?”

Her eyes darted to my arms and then away. Just a flicker. I looked down again and stared at my bandaged wrists.

“I didn’t do anything to myself,” I insisted. “I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t do it.”

She could tell I was flustered. She gathered her things together. “I’ll go get the doctor,” she said, and left.

What seemed like just a second later, Dr. Briggs strolled in, his face set in a smooth, professional expression. A wave of fear bathed my nerves. He had been the one to prescribe my mother the pills that sent her off the deep end, and had also pretended to be my ally when I knew now that he had actually been working against us.

“I see you’re awake, Ariel,” he said. “Good. I’m going to be transferring you to the psychiatric ward for a 48 hour hold.”

“What?” I asked, alarm bells going off inside my head. “You can’t do that. Honestly, I didn’t hurt myself. I wouldn’t do that. Where’s my dad?”

“You tried to kill yourself,” he said flatly. “You’re seventeen, still a minor. As far as your father, I know for a fact that he was arrested early today.”

“What are you talking about?” I tried to scramble out of the bed, but he put a hand on me, holding me down. He was much stronger than his wiry frame would suggest.

“You are not leaving this hospital,” he said, a cold, mean edge to his voice. “A suicide attempt is not something we take lightly here.”

“I didn’t try to kill myself!” I shouted.

“Your injuries suggest otherwise,” he said simply. “And you have a strong family history of mental illness. Your mother just killed herself, after all.” The bastard was smirking, actually smirking.

“I know that you drugged my mother,” I continued. “You made her crazy.”

“No one is going to believe you,” he said evenly, without a trace of emotion. “You’re just a messed up, emotionally disturbed kid.”

“I’ll tell them everything!”

“Be happy that Phillip hasn’t taken a knife to your throat.” He adjusted his silver glasses. “I’ll get you a sedative to calm you down. Now that you’re awake, I’ll alert the transfer nurse to take you down to the psych ward.”

He went out of the room without another word. I knew I had very little time to get out. I had to think fast. I didn’t even know what hospital I was in. I looked around at the walls and saw University of Michigan stickers on several pieces of equipment.

I immediately threw off the blankets, pulled out the IV, and detached my leads. The monitor screamed in protest, but I shut it off. I went to the door, but there was a guard standing right outside.

Looking around my room for any clothes, I saw my pants and my sweatshirt. The EMTs must have dressed me at some point. I swiftly put them on, and feeling in my pocket, felt the grounding stone. I flipped my hair up and peered down at myself. There were splotches of pink blood all over the shirt. I grimaced. I’d have to find a change of clothes.

In the bathroom was a sink, a toilet, and a large cart of supplies. I pulled the cart out and saw a shared brown door with a lock free handle. I scrambled through the door into a room with several beds. The only patient there was fast asleep across the room, half-concealed behind a curtain. I raced out to the main corridor.

There weren’t many people out in the hall, just nurses rushing to their various stops. No one paid much attention to me as I hunched over and rushed away. I checked which floor I was on―three. Alex was upstairs on five. I went to the elevators, hit the button for that floor, and slouched against the wall. I kept my bandaged hands over my middle as other people crowded into the elevator, hoping no one would see the blood. Not that the bandages were better.

If I could just get up to Alex’s room, I was sure that someone could help me. I watched the numbers shift to five and got out, walking swiftly. His parents were part of our opposition, after all, and Theo would probably be there, too. I saw by the clock that it was past visiting hours, but I was sure I could figure out some story.

At the nurse’s station, I rapidly tried to figure out what to say to explain myself. The head nurse was on the phone, her back to me. I was close enough to hear her speak. “So let me get this straight, she just jumped up and got out of her hospital bed? Well, I think I’ll be able to recognize a girl with her wrists bandaged. Black hair, hazel eyes, 5‘5”. Seventeen. Got it. If she comes up here, Dr., we’ll send her right back to you.”

I was out of there and on the elevator to the bottom floor before she could hang up. Again I crouched beside the wall. There was nothing else I could do but get out of the hospital. And fast.

I made it down and out to the patient waiting room. Most of the people inside were sleeping in their seats. A few people glanced my way, and I felt exposed. Surely they’d notice the bandages on my wrists. But no one tried to talk to me. I peered behind me to make sure that I wasn’t being followed.

The hospital was already seeming too familiar, the smells of hospital gloves and antiseptic. A girl left her backpack and phone on her chair, going off to the vending machines.

Forgive me
, I thought as I snagged the backpack and kept moving. I felt bad for stealing but I had no idea what else to do. Across the way was a bathroom. Inside was a neatly folded bunch of clothes. I dressed quickly in the baggy shirt and jeans, leaving the backpack in the bathroom. I wrapped my hair into a ponytail, then jogged back out.

I walked as swiftly as I could without drawing attention to myself.
Code Red. Code Red.
A robotic woman suddenly alerted over the speakers. I knew that it meant my escape had been found out. I rushed my steps and ran out through the revolving door into the cool April night.

 

CHAPTER 23

I WAS ALONE
on the road with no idea what to do. I was in Ann Arbor, and I didn’t have any money, or a way to get home. College students and hospital workers rushed around me on the sidewalk to dorms and home. I touched the bandages on my wrists, running my fingers along the white cloth. I wanted to look underneath them, see the damage that was done, but I was too scared to even peek yet.

I stopped at a restaurant, where there were quite a few people having a late dinner and drinks, and called Henry.

“Ariel,” he breathed into the phone. “Thank God. I heard something on the news about an ambulance at your apartment building. I tried to go there, but they wouldn’t let me in. Are you okay? Whose phone is this?”

I curled into the booth I was sitting in. “I’ll tell you all of it when you get here. I was the one they called the ambulance for. Someone attacked me, and my dad is supposedly in jail. I’m in Ann Arbor, can you come get me?”

He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was deep and serious. “Of course I can.”

He must have flown on his tires, because he got there in twenty minutes. He parked in the front, got out, and opened the door for me. I didn’t say much until we were back on the expressway. It was ten o’clock.

“Why don’t we just drive away and not go back?” Henry said. He peered at the bandages on my wrists and then ripped his eyes away, swallowing hard.

“We can’t do that. My dad is still in jail somewhere, probably in Hell. And I have a bad feeling about why both of those things would happen on the same night.”

“Let’s at least stop at a hotel for the night,” Henry said. “We need some rest and we can go and get Hugh tomorrow. I can call some attorneys that I know. We’ll figure it out.”

We drove in relative silence until we got to Hell. I felt too tired and drained to say much. He pulled into the parking lot of a luxury hotel that I’d only ever seen before from the street.

“Here?” I quizzed, after we’d pulled into the parking lot and got out. “This place looks pretty expensive.”

“Only the best for my girl,” he said, smirking. “We might as well stay in style, burn through some of my father’s money before I get disowned.” He got out and opened the car door for me again.

From the outside, the hotel stood tall and luxurious. The inside was even more impressive, with lush red and gold wallpaper and carpeted flooring. Round white seating areas with potted plants in the center dotted the reception area. Huge crystal chandeliers glittered overhead. A porter was pushing a cart of expensive looking luggage.

The clerk at the desk smirked coyly when he saw the two of us. I felt very underdressed compared to the other people walking around in crisp business suits and fancy dresses. Henry didn’t seem to notice the clerk’s grin.

“We need a room for the night,” he said, his voice edged with tiredness. When Henry whipped out his credit card, the clerk’s manner changed to polite and courteous.

“Very good, sir. Would you like a master suite?”

“Sure, whatever’s available,” Henry said, waving his hand impatiently. He was more focused on me. My eyes bulged when I saw the price on the credit card receipt.

“Do you need help with your luggage?” he asked, his eyes searching for bags on the floor around us.

“We don’t have any. Thank you.” Henry took the key card and gently took my arm, leading me to the elevators.

“He probably thinks we’re two kids coming from prom and skipping the after party,” I said, laughing a little.

“Making our own after party,” Henry said back.

Our room on the fourth floor was equally opulent, though starkly decorated in gray and black and white. A card with a rose on a silver tray was on the double bed. There was a flat screen TV in a wooden cabinet and a nice couch. There was a refrigerator with a mini bar, were we so inclined to indulge. The fluffy white comforter on the bed looked like the inside of a cloud.

I sat down on the bed, feeling exhausted despite having just woken up. I’d never felt so heavy.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to order room service?” Henry asked, studying the menu.

I shook my head and pulled out the remaining tape stuck to the inside of my elbow. He kneeled in front of me with his head on my knees, then gently stroked the bandages on my wrists, just outside of the sore areas. “I could kill them.”

“The sad thing is, especially after my mom’s death, and Jenna’s, there were dark times when I wanted to end it.” I’d never admitted that to anyone before, not even myself. I swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable.

“Don’t say that,” Henry said, his dark eyes staring into my own, searching the depths of me.

“I would never do it. I don’t want to make everybody else miserable.” I started to take the bandage off of one of my wrists. A long, ugly red slash, with black stitching across it marred the flesh. I bit my lip, feeling tears sting my eyes. “Now when people look at me, they’re going to think I tried.”

“If I could take it, all of it, I would. I would do anything to make you not feel this way anymore. To not have to feel responsible for so much.”

He kissed me, lips pressing insistently and growing in intensity like he wanted to get closer. He pulled back, stroking my cheeks gently with his thumbs. He was so handsome, he was mine, and right now all I wanted was him.

“I feel like I’m about to lose you. To lose everything,” Henry said.

I slid back to make room for him. He crawled carefully on top of me, and I welcomed the pressure of his body. He dipped his head to kiss me again, his tongue searching my mouth, and there was something ravenous about it. He tilted my head to the side and I moaned as he trailed kisses down my neck.

I started to unbutton his shirt, my fingers moving swiftly. I ignored the screaming ache in my wrists, concentrating on getting closer to him. He noticed my struggle and undid the remaining buttons, wriggling out of the shirt and tossing it to the floor. Then he returned to my mouth. His hands were everywhere―stroking my face, my hair, my chest. I relished the feeling of his skin against me. And yet I wanted him closer. So much closer. Heat coiled at the base of my stomach and I clenched my legs.

“Ariel, should we stop?” he asked, pulling back. He was breathing as heavily as I was, his nostrils flaring.

“No. Don’t stop,” I said, and I meant it. I let myself get lost in the sensation of him, letting it all go.

 

 

CHAPTER 24

MAY DAY

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