I wanted to cry but no tears came.
Instead I felt hollow inside.
Because of what I’d done Caelan had tried to take his own life too. What had I been thinking? Clearly, I hadn’t been. Anytime I was around Marcus he always seemed to make me do stupid things. It was like he screwed with my brain or something.
“I want you to go on an anti-depressant,” the doctor continued, “and I’d be really happy if you’d go to therapy. I can’t make you, of course, but I think it would be beneficial.” I tried to speak, ready with a rebuttal, but he raised a hand and his look told me to be quiet. “You don’t need to make a decision on the therapist now, but I want you to think on it.” He sighed, looking at me sadly. I was sure he wondered what horrors could have possibly driven me to make such a choice. “I’ll let the nurse know you’re awake.”
With that statement he was gone.
Nice fellow. Not.
A nurse entered a few minutes later, fussing over me. I begged her for water but she was reluctant to give it to me because of my throat, stating that the IV was providing more than enough nutrients.
Fuck that stupid IV. I wanted some damn water.
“Someone’s here to see you,” she said before she left. “Would you feel up to a visitor?”
I nodded, figuring it was Daphne, since it definitely wouldn’t be Caelan.
I was wrong.
Marcus strode into my room with that damn proud smirk twisting his lips.
My heart rate spiked and the machine I was hooked up started screaming—at least that’s what it sounded like to me.
“GET OUT!” I screamed, not caring that it felt like I shoved a knife down my throat when I yelled.
The nurse’s eyes widened at my outburst and she looked from me to Marcus. Tears streamed down my cheeks and panic rose like a rollercoaster high in the sky.
“OUT!”
She grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away from me.
He didn’t budge.
“Sir, I think you should leave. You’re obviously making her distressed and that’s the last thing she needs right now.”
“But I’m her brother.” He gave her the most charming smile he could muster and I saw her caving. He had that affect on people. He always fooled those around him into thinking he was a fucking angel.
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” I yelled again. It felt like spikes were being jabbed down my esophagus but there was no way I was going to be left alone in this room with him. There was no telling what he was capable of doing and I wasn’t about to find out. He’d hurt me enough. He’d even driven me to the point of hurting myself. This ended now. “Go away,” my voice cracked, “and leave me alone.” I didn’t say it out loud, frankly I didn’t have the strength, but if he didn’t back off and leave I’d get a restraining order filed. I probably needed to do that anyway. I couldn’t live feeling like he was always lurking over my shoulder. Who could? Fear was crippling, especially when it was constant. I refused to be his victim anymore. I had rights and I would fight that motherfucker tooth and nail from now on to make sure he never hurt me or anyone else ever again. I’d been weak before, but resurrection from the dead gave me a much-needed clarity. I wasn’t defined by him, and I’d been living far too long like I was. By coming here, to my home, he’d made an enemy out of me. I may have had a moment of weakness, of relapse so to speak, but it wouldn’t happen again.
The look in his eyes changed and he must have seen that he’d pushed too far.
“I’ll go,” he told the nurse. The look he gave me said, But I’ll be back.
I answered with a challenging smile. He wasn’t going to beat me down anymore.
He didn’t own me.
I owned myself.
With that thought I looked down at the tattoo adorning my wrist, partially obscured by hospital bands. Freedom.
I was truly free now.
???
They released me five days later. I wished it had been sooner but apparently I was under observation.