Night Owl(59)

Matt lay on a hospital bed, the head inclined. Velcro straps tethered his wrists and ankles to the rails. He had an IV in one arm, a catheter in the other. His drip bag was half empty. He was asleep, or maybe unconscious. A monitor blipped his stats.

I swallowed and crept closer. The weight of sorrow crushed my chest. I made this happen. I made him pour out all his alcohol. I made his system fly into panic. I made him start drinking in the first place.

Someone had dressed him in a pale gown with blue spots and socks with rubber paw-shaped grips. A tube snaked out of under his gown. I touched his chest.

"Matt?" I whispered, but I knew he couldn't hear me.

There was a pamphlet by his bed: PHYSICAL RESTRAINTS AND YOUR RIGHTS.

I kept one hand on Matt's body as I found my phone and made a call.

I listened to the ringtone.

Just when I thought no one would answer, I heard a click, then Nate's groggy voice.

"Hi Hannah, everything okay?"

I began to sob.

CHAPTER 27

Matt

NATE SET THE plush manatee on my chest and I touched it reluctantly.

It was velvet soft with black plastic eyes. I stroked it as I glared at the wall.

"A stuffed animal." I smirked. "What does she think I am, a child?"

Nate shrugged.

"I can't say as to that, though you do a damn good job of acting like one."

Nate was being brusquer than usual. Than ever, actually. I hugged the stuffed animal to my chest.

"What the f*ck is your problem? You've been a shit all week. I'm lying in a hospital bed, cut me some slack."

Nate dropped into the chair by my bed and steepled his fingers. He looked at my untouched tray of breakfast.

"I would like to know how you propose to get out of here without eating, Matt."

"I have no appetite. You can Google withdrawal. It's kind of a common symptom."

Nate sighed through his nose. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. God, if he didn't look like a longsuffering saint right now. I rolled my eyes.

"You know," I said, "you could just send Hannah in here unannounced and try to get her to feed me. That sounds like exactly the kind of humiliating thing you'd put me through."

"Don't think I haven't tried, Matt. Unfortunately, she was so crushed when I told her you didn't want to see her that it would be ridiculous to try to send her in now."

"I don't want her to see me. There's a f*cking difference."

"Oh, tell that to her!" Nate rose and began to pace. I had never seen him so agitated. He was always the calm one, the kind one. "Besides, she's done enough of my dirty work."

Dirty work. That hurt.

"I'll see her when I'm out of here," I mumbled. "When I can get out of this damn gown and shave, feel more like myself."

"You and your god-forsaken pride. I'm pretty sure she's seen you at your worst."

"Yeah, thanks to you," I snapped.

Nate and I glared at one another. My f*cking * of a brother. Freshly showered, in a tailored suit, he definitely had the upper hand. I played with the manatee's flippers.

"I had no other choice, Matt. And you know what? She worked. I'm only sorry I dragged the poor girl into this. You pulled a gun on her, you insane son of a bitch."

I winced. Mm, so Hannah told him about the gun.

"Yes, she told me about that," Nate said, weirdly prescient. "And before you ask, I have your gun. And you're not getting it back."

"Is she here?"

"Oh yes, as usual, she's sitting out in the lobby like a goddamn orphan. She wanted to deliver that to you personally." Nate jabbed a finger at my manatee.

"Don't touch her," I said.

"Excuse me?" Nate's eyes flared.

"What have you guys been doing?"

"Cleaning up your mess. Taking care of your rabbit. Packing your belongings."

I nodded vaguely. So, my stay at the cabin was over. I was going home, but home to where? Home to uncle or home to Denver? Or would Nate try to ship me off to a rehab facility? I felt strangely neutral on the matter.

In fact, I couldn't think of a damn thing I wanted, besides Hannah. And even Hannah was unknown territory. The thought of her filled me with embarrassment and guilt.

"Can I leave?" I said.

"Eat your breakfast."

Only Nate could talk to me like that. Only Nate could make me feel like a child.

I pulled the tray over and began to poke at the omelet I'd ordered. I thought of Hannah sitting in the lobby, waiting for Nate. Waiting for me. A spike of anxiety melted under my meds. Fuck, I was heavily medicated. It had been five days since I arrived at the hospital. I had my own room and I was off the IV, but the nurses and doctors still watched me vigilantly.

My omelet was cold and rubbery. I scooped another piece into my mouth. I tucked my manatee under my arm and looked at Nate.

I wasn't trying to look pitiful, but I must have, because his expression had done a one-eighty.

"God damnit, Matt." He came to me and clasped the back of my neck, leaning in and pressing his forehead to mine. He smelled like cologne and autumn. Like the outside world. My big brother. I shut my eyes against the prick of tears.

"Why am I so f*cked up," I whispered.