ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror(58)

Andrew sobbed. “Please, don’t leave me, Pen. Please!”

“Sorry to interrupt,” said a young, blonde nurse entering the room, “but your daughter has just woken up.”

Andrew’s stomach churned and he had to swallow back a mouthful of stomach acid.

What the hell do I say to her? She’s just a kid and shouldn’t have to deal with anything like this.

Andrew got up, kissing his wife’s forehead before following the nurse out of the room. Both Penelope and Rebecca had been moved once their surgery concluded and were now in separate parts of the building. Pen was in ICU under constant watch, while Bex was in the convalescence ward. They were on separate floors now and it took Andrew five minutes of marching through a maze of corridors to reach his daughter’s room.

Although obviously weak, Bex smiled at the sight of her father entering the room. Andrew’s heart ached at the sight of her. Dark-brown hair matted her forehead and her usually rosy complexion had turned ashen. She looked like a zombie from one of the films she loved to watch.

“Hey,” Andrew said to her as he placed himself down on a cheap plastic chair beside the bed. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Like I got stabbed with a pair of scissors.”

Andrew grinned, happy that his daughter’s sense of humour had not been damaged despite everything else. “Arts and crafts never were your strong point, Bex.”

“How’s mum?”

Andrew had hoped the question would wait, that his daughter would not remember events so much as to realise that she was not the only one who’d been injured. Telling Bex that her mother might be dying would not be good for her own recovery.

But he couldn’t lie to her; not his daughter.

“She’s bad, sweetheart. The Doctors have told us to wait and see, but right now she’s not responding to anything. Her surgery went okay, though, which is a good sign. We have to hold on to the positives.

Bex looked her father in the eyes and wore an expression that seemed to hold more sadness than should have been possible for such a young girl. “Why did they do this to us, Dad?”

Andrew shook his head and looked down at the floor. “I don’t know, honey. Really, I don’t.”

“They would have killed us all if you hadn’t done something.”

Andrew sighed. “I got you both stabbed!”

“It would have been worse if you’d done nothing.”

“I might not have gotten the chance if Davie hadn’t tried to put a stop to things first.”

Bex looked concern. “You think he’ll be okay? What if the others blame him?”

Andrew shrugged his shoulders and winced at the pain that shot through his ribs. “To be honest the only people I’m concerned about is you and your mother. Davie still sat and watched Frankie torture us all. He did what was right at the end, but it wasn’t enough.”

“Don’t be angry, Dad.”

Andrew looked at his daughter. “Don’t be angry. Are you joking?”

She shook her head wearily. “If you’re angry then you’re just letting them get away with even more. Of course I want them all arrested and sent to prison…for-like-ever…but I won’t let them inside my head one moment longer. They don’t deserve to change who we are, Dad. You’re not an angry person, so don’t let them make you one.”

Andrew couldn’t believe his daughter was so willing to move on. Would she feel the same way if the Doctors came in right now and told her that her mother was dead? Would she let anger into her heart then? Andrew understood what his daughter was saying, but it was too late to put aside his emotions – anger had already chronically infected his soul. There was no going back to the man he was before.

He needed to change the subject, for dwelling on the subject was already making his heart grow heavy with rage. “Should I go home and get you some things, sweetheart? What would you like?”

Bex smiled at him, but seemed trapped in a constant state of drowsiness – as if she could not escape the fringes of sleep. “That would be nice,” she muttered. “Can you pick me up some magazines from the shop as well? Then I just want my iPod and my…phone.”

Andrew thought about his own phone. He had not called work in days and would probably not have a job to return to anymore. Sympathy was not something his firm was known for and they would offer little understanding to the events of the past few days. He put such worries aside for now – they seemed so utterly unimportant – and gave Bex a warm smile to match the one she had given him. “I’ll go home now and get them for you. I won’t be long, but you try and get some rest in the meantime.”