“He’s a fighter.” Kincaid squeezed me tight.
I know, but that doesn’t make me feel any better right now.
Donovan
I dealt with emotions and pain while I was under the surgeon’s knife. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything. I was supposed to be out cold. Maybe it was just my subconscious mixing with horrible nightmares and bringing everything to the surface. Either way, I tried to process the events that had transpired. They played in my head like a loop as harsh realities slapped me in the face again and again. My sister was Fireball. I had come to terms with that, even if I still struggled to believe it. She had gotten twisted in her own insanity and the madness consumed her. There was no other explanation. Nothing else made sense. She descended into a dark place after she left Livingston Capital. I thought the doctors had cured her, or at least given her a way to cope with it. I was wrong. Part of the guilt was on my shoulders. After she moved back home, we drifted apart. I regretted that because I couldn’t help wondering if I could have done something had I been there for her.
I’m sorry Janine. I’m sorry you had to go through this alone. I’m sorry I wasn’t the brother you needed in your darkest hour.
The knife went into my flesh. It carved its way towards the bullet embedded in my stomach. I wasn’t seeing that through my own eyes. It felt like I was floating above the table watching the surgeon operate. I wasn’t ready to let go of the life I had, and I prayed that the scalpel didn’t waver from its destination. Life was precious. I had wasted mine chasing my own desires, never searching for what truly mattered—love. Love was the one thing missing from my life. I needed to wake up, so I could tell Marissa how I felt.
I didn’t care if we hadn’t spent enough time together to fully figure out our relationship. I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I just wanted her. She was the reason I was in the hospital fighting for my life. I didn’t even know how she made it to that warehouse, and I really didn’t care. What mattered was that she acted when nobody else could. She would always be a hero in my eyes. Her actions saved us. She was willing to risk everything, and I was ready to do the same.
I’m going to tell you exactly how I feel when I get up off this table.
I felt myself floating further away from my body, but I wasn’t going towards the sky—I guess it was good thing I wasn’t going towards the floor either. I saw the emergency room, and I recognized it. I had spent a lot of time in that room while I waited on news about my father. He was recovering well, and in much better shape than I was in the moment. I could see Marissa and Kincaid. I was truly descending into my own dream-like illusions. There was no way I was actually there, but it felt like I was. I saw her sitting next to Kincaid, with stains on her face that had been left behind by her tears. Kincaid looked like he had shed a few tears too. His eyes were red-rimmed and full of so much fear. I wished I could tell them it was okay—that I was right there. I moved back towards the operating room. That was where I belonged. I wouldn’t be able to see them through my own eyes until I woke up.
And I’m going to wake up. This isn’t how my story ends.
The next day
“He’s awake.” I heard a man’s voice and my eyelids fluttered as I opened them.
I barely got my eyes open before a light was blinding me. A nurse checked my vitals, while a doctor asked me questions. I must have answered them all correctly, because he said I was ready to be moved to a regular room. I tried to sit up, but it hurt, and the nurse threatened to sedate me if I tried again. I was tired of being unconscious and dealing with the world with nothing but my thoughts to keep me tangled up in a fog, so I immediately complied with her request. I was moved to a regular room, and the nurse checked me over one more time before setting up a drip that would give me pain medication if I needed it. I was definitely in pain, but I didn’t want to be groggy, so I tried to deal with it on my own. I was in the room by myself for about an hour before the door opened and Abby walked in.
“Hey.” I forced a smile when she approached my bed.
“How are you feeling? Or should I even ask?” She pulled a chair over and sat down next to me.
“I’m okay.” I shrugged, but even that hurt. “How’s Dad doing?”
“He’s—doing better.” She hesitated as she spoke, and I saw her face twist into a grimace. “I had to tell him about Janine this morning. I didn’t want him to see it on the news.”
“I’m sure they are making a spectacle of it.” I exhaled sharply and shook my head. “I need you to get her a lawyer.”
“I’ve already taken care of that.” She reached over and squeezed my hand. “He had her moved to a psychiatric hospital as soon as the doctor cleared her.”
“Good.” I nodded slowly, feeling each motion I made. “She needs help…”
“Yes.” Abby sighed and squeezed my hand again. “Your Dad is taking it hard.”
“Yeah.” I stared up at the ceiling.
So am I.
Abby stayed with me for a little while and got me caught up on everything I missed with my Dad. He really was doing a lot better and he was in a room of his own on another floor. He would probably be released before I was. He was promising to follow the doctor’s orders, and I hoped he was serious about it for once in his life. Janine had a long road ahead of her, but I would do my best to be there, even if she was the one who shot me. I couldn’t erase what she did, and there would be repercussions, but I hoped she would find a way to escape the madness. It was unlikely that she would ever be free again. It was a tough price to pay, especially since I fully believed she lost herself in the madness that consumed her. When Janine left, I hoped that I would get another visitor—and the door opened a few minutes later to reveal the face I wanted to see most of all.
“You finally decided to open your eyes, huh?” Marissa smiled as she walked up to my bed.
“How else was I going to see your beautiful face again.” I forced a smile and reached out to take her hand.
“Once you get out of here, I’m going to give you a piece of my mind for going after Fireball on your own.” I heard a low growl from behind Marissa and looked past her to see Kincaid.
“Yeah, not my brightest moment.” I coughed and put my hand on my wound. “But save the berating for later.”
“I get it man.” Kincaid pulled a chair nearby and put his hand on my shoulder. “I would have done the same thing if it was my sister.”
Kincaid and I talked for a little bit, mostly about the case and all of the clues we missed. Neither one of us could have ever predicted that Fireball would be my sister. Kincaid told me that the mayor had another press conference, but it was Chief Vance at his side instead of Detective Lewis. Chief Vance mentioned us by name and talked about how hard we worked to catch Fireball. Kincaid should have been happy to be acknowledged, but there was no happiness in his eyes as he sat there beside me. Fireball’s identity sucked all the potential for celebration out of the capture. Kincaid promised that he would be there every step of the way while my sister was prosecuted, and he would be the first to testify that her mental state was questionable. I hoped that would be enough to get her a room in the psych ward instead of life in prison. Once the conversation about Fireball died out, I turned towards Marissa.