My face is slammed against the wall as I'm grabbed once more, my shoulder screaming in pain as they press their weight into me. I'm slapped with another set of cuffs, my legs chained as medics scramble to grab the bleeding officer in the room. Being pulled from the wall, I grimace, eyes latching onto the detective as I'm drug past her. I'm stomped through the hall in a blur of ugly mint green walls and metal gates, my arm and chest starting to go numb with white-hot pain. I'm shoved into a jail room that's essentially a giant tin box, and what I assume is their version of solitary confinement as my cuffs are removed. I immediately grab my shoulder, seeing the blood on my hand when I pull it away.
"An EMT will come to look at your gunshot wound in a bit. Try not to die before then." Says the officer holding my cuffs, the one behind him muttering something about how I shouldn't even get treatment.
In answer, I spit at his feet and raise my bloody hand to flip them both off.
My hand drops at the click of the lock, and I stare at the back of the jail cell door for a while after they leave. Looking around the small cell, I move to sit on the bed, a hiss leaving my lips when I sit. Slowly laying on my uninjured side, I cradle my arm and curl my knees up. I'm exhausted, both mentally and physically. Although, it could be the blood loss. I pull my hand away, seeing only a little bit of fresh blood on my hand. It seems to be stopping, at least. My eyes lift to the overhead lights, I just want to sleep.
"Breakfast is done!" I skip down the stairs, hand on the banister as I use it to swing around the corner. Nana is dishing my plate like always, and I watch her drop something into my orange juice, stirring it quickly.
"What is that?"
She jumps at my voice, her hand clutching her chest. "You scared me, Hadley!" She waves toward the table, dropping her spoon into the sink.
"What did you put in my drink, Nana?"
She doesn't immediately turn around to look at me, giving me her back as she grabs my cup and plate before walking over to set it on the table. "It was just a vitamin. Stop being so suspicious." She props her hands on her hips, head motioning for me to sit.
"Show me the bottle."
"Oh, will you sto..."
"Now!" Her face pales at my tone, her eyes widening. "Show me the bottle, Nana."
She stares at me a moment like she's not sure if she wants to keep fighting me on this or not. Eventually, she moves, opening the cabinet with canned goods. She pulls out a can of canned carrots, lifting the lid off to pull out an orange pill bottle. She sets it on the counter instead of handing it to me, her eyes staying on the floor as she sets the can on the counter as well.
"You said I didn't need those. You said there was nothing wrong with being different, that it was good to be different."
"There is, honey, but sometimes we need some help, and that's okay too."
"You promised!" I step toward her, and she stays put, her eyes finding my face. "You promised you'd never make me take those!"
"Honey."
She grabs onto my arm, and I jerk away, unintentionally throwing her off of me. Her foot slips out from under her, and I see her falling, but don't try to catch her. Her head smacks against the edge of the table with a loud crack, her body slumping to the floor.
“Nana?” I reach out for her, gingerly touching her leg. She barely hit her head. She’ll be fine. She has to be fine. “Nana? Please get up.” She’s all I have.
I wake up to the door being opened, forcing myself to sit up on shaking limbs. A medic and three officers come in, the door sliding shut behind them. The medic speaks first, pulling gloves from his pockets and pulling them on. "I'm going to need to cut your shirt to get a better view of your wound, so you're going to need to be restrained."
Running my tongue over my teeth, I nod, slowly shifting back down onto my bed, facing the ceiling. Two officers secure my wrists and the third secures my feet while the medic stands back. When they're done, they switch places, one of the officers staying close. It feels like an eternity that he pokes and probes at my shoulder, but eventually, it's cleaned and sewn shut with a patch taped on top. The medic leaves the cell first, followed by an officer who comes back and tosses a new uniform at my feet while the other two unclip me. All three leave without a single word, locking the cell door behind them.
I hear a shouted "Lights out," then my cell goes mostly black, but for a small yellow-hued security light on the wall. Struggling, I pull my ruined shirt off, tossing it onto the floor, and replace it with my new one. I don't bother with my pants, shifting to move back down on my side. Closing my eyes, I try to banish the thoughts that want to linger about my Nana. Of all the things I've done, she's the only one I wish I could take back. She filled a spot in my twisted, tar heart that could never be replaced. I'm lonely without her. I feel a tear leak from the corner of my eye, and I brush it away with my fingers.
"Why are you crying?"
Opening my eyes, I blink to get them adjusted, my heart pounding when they fall on Rhys. "Because I'm sad." He pushes off the wall and walks over to me, the heels of his sneakers scuffing along the floor as he walks. Crouching, he rests his arms on the bed in front of my face, dropping his chin to rest on them. "How are you here, Butterfly?"
His breath puffs from his lips, licking along the seam of mine as I blink at him. "Don't you get it, weirdo?" He lifts his chin, reaching out to grab the back of my head. His lips sink into mine, pressing me into him with reassuring fingertips. Breaking the connection of our lips, he lets me go, "I never left."