Hate to Love You

half-rose out of his seat. “You’re okay?” He searched my face.

“Yeah.”

“Her vitals are all normal.” The nurse gave us both a cheerful grin. “I’m going to let the doctor know you’re awake. He’ll want to talk to you.”

“You’re in pain?” Gage asked once she pulled the door shut behind her.

“She started morphine or something.” I frowned. The headache was still there, and I could not wait for it to go away. “Gage, what happened?”

“What do you remember?”

I told him the same, and like the nurse, there was a baited moment of silence.

“What?” The silhouette, the dark thing by it. Why was it flashing in my memory? “Gage. Tell me. Please.” Fear started to bloom under my ribs, spreading all over.

He just stared at me before squeezing his eyes shut. He let out a pocket of air, and his shoulders dropped dramatically. He nodded. “Okay.” His hand went to the bedrail by me, and his fingers curled around it. “You were attacked—”

As he spoke, the silhouette became one.

“—Matt Carruthers and another guy waited for you to leave the library—”

It was dark. After midnight. There was no one else around.

“—The other guy hit you with a bat—”

The bat swung, and I jerked in the bed as if it hit me once again. I could feel it.

“—then Carruthers kicked you—”

In the face.

I looked up, and a foot was lifted.

I couldn’t move. I was reliving the entire thing. A droplet landed on my hand, and I glanced down. I was crying. I had no idea.

Gage paused, but I gutted out, “Tell me the rest.”

“There isn’t much after that.”

“What?”

He lifted a shoulder. “One of the librarians was leaving and saw the whole thing. She yelled and called 9-1-1 right away. They took off, but campus cameras caught them. They know it was them. I talked to the security officer, but since Dulane doesn’t have its own campus police, the city police is going to be charging them. The one detective stopped by this morning. He said they probably had enough evidence so you wouldn’t have to testify, plus the whole video from before clearly shows Carruthers advancing on you first. It was self-defense, though the cop said you went a little far with it.” A half-grin cracked the heavy mask of exhaustion. He raked a hand over his face. “Shit, Kenz. I was so worried about you. Everyone was.”

I sat there. The whole thing was unbelievable, but I remembered it.

The fear was still there, and I waited. I wasn’t one to be afraid. The anger would be coming, but after another minute’s wait, I frowned. It wasn’t there. It was just fear.

“Kenz?”

Gage was watching me. He tilted his head to the side, his fingers uncurling from around the rail so he could reach toward me. “What’s going on in there?”

I shook my head.

A lump was in my throat.

I didn’t want to be scared.

I didn’t want to be anything.

I shoved it down.

Maybe it was the morphine. Maybe it was me, but I didn’t feel. I was numb, and I smiled at my brother. “I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.” We heard voices nearing the door, and Gage glanced to it. He leaned forward again, dropping his voice. “We can talk about it later, but you have to talk about it. Okay? You have to. You can’t keep that stuff bottled inside.”

The door opened, and a doctor came in behind the nurse. I was poked, prodded, and questioned over the next thirty minutes. They told me I suffered a concussion, and half of my face looked like a giant red onion. Other than that, the doctor said I was lucky that librarian was there.

I suppressed a shiver.

Before they left, after taking another round of vitals, the doctor said I could go home in the morning. He asked Gage, “Are you going to fill her in on everything that’s happened since her attack?”

“I hadn’t gotten to it yet. I will.”

He nodded his approval, saying to me, “I’ll be back in the morning for another set of rounds, so I’ll be seeing you one more time before you can go home. It’s nice to have met you. I have to say it’s been an honor and an adventure all at the same time.”

The nurse laughed softly, following him out.

I asked Gage, “What was that about?”

He sighed. “Shay.”





Shay.

His name was an echo in me, resonating like a bouncing ball.

“What about him?”

Gage’s chest rose and held, before lowering again. He sat up straighter, his hands on his lap, and he started. “Okay. Here goes. You don’t know this, but if you were to leave this room, there are two policemen outside your door.”

“What?”

“Carruthers and the other guy are in the hospital. Those police are out there for your safety, since Carruthers already tried to attack you one time. They figure he might retaliate again, but I don’t see that happening.”

“Did I hit them back or something? Are they here as patients?”

“No.” A quick laughter slipped out. “They’re in here because Shay beat the shit out of them.”

The ball dropped.

“What?”

“The librarian told someone in administration about you, and they called your roommate. Your roommate is an idiot. She told your floor’s RA that you had one friend, Kristina. She knew about me, so at the same time she was calling me, so was Mom.”

“Mom.” I groaned. This would get interesting.

“I wasn’t totally thinking clearly. Mom was on one line, going nuts. I could hear Blake in the background yelling.”

I groaned again.

“I do have to give it to your friend. She was calm. I mean, I could hear how scared she was, but she was calm at the same time. I hung up with her, and I talked to Mom.”

“How did Shay find out?”

He held up a finger, his Adam’s apple moving up and down in a swallowing motion. “That’s why I’m explaining that I wasn’t thinking clearly. I blurted out that she needed to call and let Shay know. After that, I can only assume her phone call to him wasn’t good. The next thing I know, I’m parking outside the hospital. Mom and Blake are on their way, and Casey calls.”

Casey?

Gage continues, “Word spread fast who attacked you, and before the cops could get to Carruther’s apartment . . .” He let me do the rest.

“Shay did.”

“Exactly.” He nodded. “He beat the shit out of him, and he was still there, pounding him when the cops arrived. They were all arrested and brought here to get checked out. Shay knocked Carruther’s friend out cold at the apartment, and the guy woke up here. He said something smart to Shay, and they didn’t have enough cops in the room. Shay went at them one more time. He didn’t make contact, but he tried. He almost did. A nurse stood in the way and stopped him. He would’ve had to hit her if he wanted to hit them, and before he could get around her, the cops were on him by then. They were all separated after that and handcuffed to their beds.”

“No!” My mind was racing. They could charge Shay. They could do worse than that. He could go to prison.

“There’s talk that they’ll throw out Shay’s attack if they throw out Carruthers’s first attack on you, when he lunged at you after the football game.”

“Really?” It worked like that?

“They had legal jargon. I talked to a lawyer, but Shay’s a big fucking deal. The football coaches got involved. I wouldn’t be surprised if the college Dean did, too. Carruthers agreed. He’s only going to be charged on the attack outside the library if Shay can walk.”

“He went for that?” I wasn’t thinking about Shay going Terminator on me. I’d process that later.

Gage shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. “My guess is that they threw some big intimidation his way for him to do that. I don’t get it, either, but Shay isn’t going to be charged.”

“That’s unbelievable.”

“Yeah, but it means that Shay’s banned from the hospital. He can’t see you until you leave.”

Shay did all of that for me.

I couldn’t—I still couldn’t process it all.

A different thought came to me. “Where is everyone? Mom, Blake, Kristina?”

“Your merry band of friends were here all day, but they went back to the dorm. Same thing for Mom and Blake. They were here during the day. They drove all day and night to get here, but they went to a hotel to get some sleep. It’s my shift. I was gone for classes today, and I wanted to hear what was being said on campus about the whole thing.”

A different feeling of dread slithered around me. I didn’t want to hear that, either, not yet. “What day is it?”

“It’s Wednesday morning.” He turned the television on, and I saw the time.

Two in the morning.

I was attacked Monday after midnight, so early Tuesday.

I lost an entire day.

All that happened over a twenty-four hour period.

I was going to pass out again.

Gage softened his voice. “It’s all over campus that Shay went after Carruthers. The rumors were rampant, and those were the ones people were telling me. I can’t imagine what people are saying that I haven’t heard.”

“Oh, my God.”

I could. My last year at high school flashed before my eyes, but Shay defended me. That was…

I felt the walls closing in. The room shrank in size.

What was going on?

Was the oxygen cut off, too? There wasn’t any left.

“Kenz.” Gage stood up, leaning over me. His eyes filled with concern. “Hey. What’s happening?”

I couldn’t talk. Why couldn’t I…

The room was tipping over now.

I heard muffled voices.

Then it was all black again.





I fainted.

In the grand scheme of things, it was embarrassing, but survivable.

My mom swooped in when she got to my room later that afternoon. Her arms opened wide and an afghan draped around her back and arms. She pulled me in for a hug, rocking me gently.

“Oh, honey,” she crooned, smoothing a hand down my hair like I was a pet. “You scared me so much. I didn’t know what happened. I didn’t know if you were alive, if it was just you, if Gage got attacked, too. An uninformed mother’s mind is not a good place.” She pulled back, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout as she continued to smooth down my hair. “You’re just as beautiful to me as you were the day you were born. The whole moldy pickle look is in.”

“Mom!” My face looked like a moldy pickle?

A low chuckle sounded behind her, and then my older brother stepped to the side. He looked normal, an inch taller than Gage and myself. His head was still shaved, and he looked like he’d been lifting weights a bit more. But the normal part was his clothes. He was dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, and he had a Styrofoam cup in his hand.

I could smell the coffee, and my mouth was instantly watering. “Is that what I think it is?”

He laughed, setting it on the table stand beside me. “I wasn’t sure if you could have it yet. Thought I might check with the nurse first.” He moved in to hug me, and it felt good to fold into his arms.

Gage was my brother in the real sense of the word.

We fought, wrestled, yelled at each other, but we’re also friends. Blake was four years older than me, and he’d been the father figure since ours died from cancer when we were little. He was dark coloring, dark hair, and dark eyes, like Gage and myself, but he had a slightly rounder face. He was bigger in build, too. More muscular, a bit gruffer, and slightly rougher around the edges, Blake had a temperament to match.

He was exactly what I needed.

He held me a second longer, and I brushed away a tear. “Hi. You guys drove here?”

His eyes were so sad. He smoothed some of my hair from my forehead. “You know Mom. She hates flying. Family emergency.”

He grimaced, his eyes lingering over the side of my face. “I heard your boy packed quite a punch back at those assholes.”

My boy.

“Oh.” I ducked my head, feeling my hands grow clammy. “Yes. That’s what I heard, too.”

He stepped back, and I focused on our mother again. The afghan was still there, half covering a pair of blue scrubs and fur-lined clogs. Her dark hair was pulled up into a high bun, and she even had a pair of glasses hanging from a beaded string around her neck. Red lipstick, yellow eye shadow, and an extra amount of blush was spread on her cheeks.

“What are you doing? You’re not a nurse.” I pointed at her clothes.

“I know.” She looked down, so pleased with herself. “Isn’t it fabulous? I dressed like this for two reasons.” She migrated closer, taking my hand, and including Blake in the conversation. He drifted over to where Gage had slept, but hoisted himself up so he was sitting on the windowsill, his feet resting on Gage’s chair.

He shook his head. “Don’t talk to me. You look crazy. I don’t want to be included.”

She batted her eyelashes at me. “It’s a fashion-forward trend. No one’s thought of this before. I brought everything so I’m prepared. I’m blending in. I’m dressing the part. I’m going to take care of you, so what better outfit to wear than someone who does it for a profession? Isn’t this fabulous? And I’m comfortable. Nurses are so comfortable. It’s like going to work in your pajamas. I’m kind of jealous. Maybe I should be a nurse?”

Blake had pulled his phone out, but he waved a hand toward me. “Tell her the other reason. The real reason you’re dressed like that.”

“Oh.” Her hand splayed out on her chest. “Yes. If I need to sneak anywhere, I have a better chance looking like I belong. You know? They have all sorts of weird rooms in hospitals. You never know where you might have to go and where you’re not supposed to be.”

I agreed with Blake. “You’re a lunatic.”

She laughed, waving her hand in the air. “My children are so funny.” She turned around as she spoke, and a nurse was entering the room. She stopped, frowning at our mother before shaking her head and approaching the bed.

She explained what I already knew—I was being discharged. The doctor had come through earlier, and I was given a clean bill of health. I wasn’t supposed to drive for the next two weeks, and I had to “keep it easy” for the same time period because that was how long it would take for the concussion to go away.

Until then, foggy thoughts, slurred speech, feeling nauseous, dizzy, off-balance, and a whole list of other criteria were to be expected. I shouldn’t be alarmed if I couldn’t do simple math anymore. That’d go away, but I had to be careful so I didn’t reinjure my head. That happened, apparently.

When I left, Blake was the one to wheel me out in the wheelchair, and I had no clue what Mom was doing. She was talking to everyone as we went down a hallway, acting as if we were in a