Breaking Mr. Cane (Cane 2)

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. It’s all he could give at the moment, but he had nothing to be sorry for. I was the one who was sorry. I wanted to take it all back. Why did my heart have to be so desperate?

“It’s okay,” I murmured. After several seconds, he let me go and Mom and I got into the car.

This wasn’t the way I wanted to be sent off. Before everything went haywire, I pictured Mom and Dad in the car with me, Dad driving on the way to my school while she sat in the passenger seat, both of them with chipper moods while I sat anxiously in the back. I had even pictured Cane standing in this very driveway, seeing me off for the final time, giving me quiet, heated stares and whispering in my ear that I would always be his.

I wanted everything to be perfect and full of life and happiness and peace. Instead, it was dull and depressing, and though it was sunny, everything around me was cloudy and gray. Saying “see you later” to my Dad felt wrong, and not being able to say anything at all to Cane before I left broke me to pieces.

Before I knew it, I was riding with Mom. Just the two of us.

“It will be okay,” she cooed as I silently sobbed in the passenger seat. “It's life, Kandy. These obstacles are thrown at us, but we get through it. We’re family. You’ll learn soon enough. Life isn’t easy or simple or even practical. It can get really messed up sometimes, and the only thing you can do is take it day-by-day.” She rubbed my arm. “Cheer up, baby. Give it a few months. Things will be back to normal before you know it.”

But would they really? Because without Cane, there wouldn’t be a ‘normal’. He’d become apart of our unit. We were a happy quartet, but in the blink of an eye, were cut down to a collapsing triangle.

Nana Alexandra was right. My life was unusual. I only prayed my abnormal life would make me resilient one day.

Chapter Six

CANE

The first thing I heard was white noise. Like water or the ocean. Destin.

The white noise transitioned to beeping. Then the beeping led to soft murmurs.

My heavy eyelids peeled apart, the lights above nearly blinding me. I groaned and tried moving, but the pain on the back of my head stopped me. “Shit,” I mumbled. My mouth was dry and tacky. My lips felt numb.

“Oh my gosh,” a voice gasped, and a hand wrapped around my upper arm. “Quinton, babe? Are you okay?”

I peered up, meeting glistening green eyes. I’d hoped they would be maple brown, like Kandy’s, or even gray, like Lora’s. I looked past her to a tall man with graying hair at the temples. A stethoscope was draped around the back of his neck, a clipboard tucked beneath his arm.

“What the hell is going on?” I rasped.

“Mr. Cane, I’m Doctor Welsh. How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Head hurts,” I grumbled.

“As it should. You took a pretty hard fall.”

I frowned then. “Fall?”

The doctor looked from me to Kelly, who was still holding my arm. “Uh—y-yes,” he stammered, picking up the clipboard to read over it. “You were rushed into the ER last night. The back of your head was split and you suffered a minor concussion.” He focused on me again. “Do you remember falling, Mr. Cane?”

I drew in a breath, trying to remember. I couldn’t, for the life of me, recall the fall. “I don’t remember,” I responded, and he scribbled something down on his clipboard.

“Derek hit you, Quinton,” Kelly said, and I put my attention on her. “Your guests said he pointed a gun at you and then he punched you, which made you fall backwards and hit your head on the concrete. They said he was drunk, hostile, and mad at you about something.”

I dropped my head and squeezed my eyes shut. That’s when it hit me—the memories of last night. It rushed back to me like a wave, nearly drowning me. I sucked in a sharp breath as the worst of them all came to me.

His words.

His voice that was laced with so much anger.

“Fuck you, Cane.”

Those were the last words I heard. After that, I couldn’t remember anything. “Shit.” I shoved the crisp, white sheet off my legs and started to twist around to get my legs off the bed, but Doctor Welsh rushed toward me, while Kelly held my arm tighter. His hand pressed down on my shoulder to keep me seated.

“Quinton, what are you trying to do?” Kelly demanded.

“I need to call Derek.”

“Sir, I can hand you your phone, but you should rest until further notice. Any sudden moves or actions could hurt you in the long run.” The doctor’s eyes were serious.