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How does a girl cope when her twin flame is the definitive bad boy? (18+ Erotica)
Chapter 4 | Chapter 5: The Hurt and the Weary
Sally hated hospitals; they were twilight worlds where the line between death and life blurred, or was erased completely. But she hated its smell and what it stood for most of all. That antiseptic smell of hygiene that seemed to sanitise everything and everyone it touched, lying in the intestine of its white corridors and working its way to the pit of your stomach.
She tried to close her mind off to the smell and the memories it evoked in her, as Stephen led her over to the reception cubicle of the Accident and Emergency area. The metal waiting seats were filled with the aftermath of fights, bloodied victims, the hurt and weary. One drunk man was vomiting loudly in a corner. She was suddenly glad of Stephen’s arm, and his guidance. He had been quick to take the initiative after Daisy had managed to garble out what had happened to her brother Iain.
Bundling up Sally's shell-shocked figure in his arms, Stephen had carried her over to where he’d parked his military motorcycle. Placing her on the back of his trusted steed, he’d barked instructions at Daisy. To her though, he only spoke two words, but they had been enough. “I’m here,” he’d said. After arriving at the hospital, and helping her off his motorbike, he had repeated simply, “I’m here.” It had worked to calm her down.
Now, as she stood watching Stephen try to find someone that could tell her about her brother’s situation, she began to feel tiny tremors of fear creep up from the bottom of her feet to invade the foremost thoughts in her mind. She knew that somewhere below them, below all general hospitals, was the morgue level. Beneath their feet the remnants of loved ones were taken. What if Iain was down there now? All alone in the sanitised place of dead? It wasn’t the cold and sterile silence she imagined that frightened her most, it was the inevitability. From personal experience she knew that everyone would take a trip down there at one point in their life, and she was powerless to protect her brother from it.
Dear God, not Iain yet. He’s still so young. So much life to live. She knew she couldn’t hold her brother back from the hungry jaws of the mortuary forever, but she thought they had appeased it when they sent their father through its doors not so long ago. Iain was the only family she had left, if she didn’t count Daisy. She couldn’t imagine what she would do if her brother was-
Sally tried to push back the tidal wave of tears that threatened to erupt. Stop it. Just stop torturing yourself. You don’t know anything yet. It was a useless attempt, however, to rid her mind of the increasing morbidity of her thoughts. They were ceaseless, and she found herself giving in to them. Better to think of past evils, than present ones, then. She had lost count of the times she had walked down antiseptic corridors like these last year when she had been nursing their father.
This wasn’t the level where they had lost the old man, that was on the Intensive Care Unit one level above. Their family doctor had moved him here from their small community hospital, because the old man had refused to be sent to a hospice. He had been adamant that he would live. She knew that stubbornness well, had spent entire days sitting beside a frail old ball of raging hate that had once been the bane of her brother’s and her life. Guiltily wishing he would live to prolong his pain; often wishing he would die to end theirs.
That same guilt attacked her now, she rubbed at the ice-cold pinpricks stabbing at the palms of her hands. She tried to squash the foolish notion that somehow their father had come back to get his revenge on the children he had never loved, because they had reminded him of their wayward mother. They had been a responsibility, a burden to carry, and he had reminded them of it every single second of their lives. His death had been a release finally, not just for him, but for them, as well.
When Daisy had told them that Iain had been brought to the large general hospital instead of their small town’s A&E, she had feared the worse - had been literally struck dumb by it. Had her little baby brother been taking his last breaths, while she and Stephen had been rekindling whatever had been left of their feelings in some alley behind some fairground shack? God, it would be just like the old man to concoct something like this from the dead, to frighten her off sex and men for good.
Sally wanted to bang her head against a hospital wall. She should never have listened to Daisy to leave the sleeping boy at home with a babysitter, and go off to the fair. If anything had happened to Iain when she should have been watching him, she would never forgive herself. Some niggling thought reminded her that had she not gone to the fair that evening, she wouldn’t have met Stephen again.
And here he was back in her line of vision, as though telepathically responding to her call. She saw him peer in through the empty cubicle’s window, raising his voice to ask where the receptionist was and how long they were expected to wait. A big, burly security guard appeared as if out from nowhere to point to the zero tolerance policy sign, written out in large red letters on a white, shiny placard that hung on the adjoining wall.
“That works both ways,” Stephen remarked unperturbed. “Get someone who knows what they’re doing to come down here and give us some information. My girlfriend over there is out of her mind with worry over her little brother.”
She couldn’t make out what the hulking guard muttered in response, but what Stephen had said must have worked because he shuffled off, presumably to find someone to help them. Stephen turned to give her a backward glance, and she looked into his eyes. How are you holding up? they seemed to say.
Okay. But better when I know how Iain is, she thought back. He nodded as though he had heard, and turned back to peer through the reception’s cubicle window once more.
He was met with the slightly miffed looking face of a middle-aged female member of the hospital staff. “Do you mind removing your head from my hole, sir?”
“Well, that’s the first time any fine looking lady has asked me to do that,” Stephen said with a quick smile, pulling his head back to a polite distance. “Excuse my bad manners, but my girl wants to know about her little brother.”
Sally saw the receptionist smile despite herself. It seemed no woman was immune to Stephen’s charms, and for once Sally was thankful. They needed someone on their side to help them find out about her brother.
The receptionist lifted her necklace eye glasses, nestled in her ample bosom, to her face and looked at the computer screen in front of her, hands hovering expertly over the keyboard. “His name?”
Sally stepped forward, as if coming to her senses. “Iain McMasters. He’s only nine.” At the first crack in her voice, Stephen put his arm around her shoulders. I’m here.
“McMasters, Iain. Yes, we’ve got him. Admitted two hours ago. And your name?”
“Sally McMasters. I’m his sister and legal guardian. Can I see him? Is he- is he okay?”
The receptionist gave her a professional smile. “I’m afraid I don’t have that information, but if you take a seat I will let the doctors know you are here. They will call out your name.”
Sally didn’t want to move an inch without a proper answer. She felt would go out of her mind otherwise. “You must know if he is okay at least? Please.”
The receptionist’s face softened with understanding. “If I knew I would tell you, love. But don’t think the worst, else you wouldn’t have been directed here, okay? The doctors won’t keep you waiting, I promise you. Just take a seat, and wait for them to call your name.”
Before Sally could respond relieved, the burly guard materialised out from thin air again. He cast a hard look at them both before glancing at the receptionist. “Are they causing trouble?”
The receptionist removed her glasses and let them fall back to her large bust. “I don’t seem to remember buzzing you, Tony? What gives?”
“You didn’t have to. These two have been making too much noise for too long. We have to keep up our zero policy, Maude.” And as if to prove his point, the guard reached out a huge hand to grab Sally’s arm and move her aside. “Can you get a move on? Can’t you see you’re holding up the line?”
Stephen moved so quickly, that Sally barely registered the movement. She watched him grab the security guard by the neck, and his hands, which had been so loving with her in the flurry of Ferris lights beneath the stars just hours before, now locked the brawny man’s neck in a steel-like grip. Although the guard was a full head taller than Stephen, he flummoxed about like a puppet with its strings cut as Stephen tightened his hold just beneath the man’s Adam’s apple.
In stark contrast, Stephen was unbelievably calm. “You have two choices,” he said coolly, looking the frightened guard straight in the eye. “I loosen my hold on your windpipe just enough for you to be able to open that dumb mouth of yours and apologise to my girlfriend, or I crack it for good to show you my zero tolerance policy. Now what’s it to be?”
The whole A&E seemed to hush. Even the vomiting drunk in the corner had stopped retching to listen. Stephen gripped a little harder. “Well?”
For a split second Stephen was back in Afghanistan, amongst the bombs and the brutality, until Sally stepped over to him and touched the curve of his back. She could feel his thin, wire frame was as tense as taut lean muscle, but he responded instinctively to her touch. “He had no right to grab you like that.”
“I’m sure he understands that now. Let him go. It’s okay.”
“You’re a lady. No one treats a lady like that. I don’t care who he is.”
“I’m sor- sorry!” The man spluttered, having realised it was futile to try and wriggle free; he had discovered it hurt less to stay still and hope the little nutter would loosen his hold on his neck. “I’m sor- sorry! O-k-kay!”
Stephen released him, and the man jumped back putting a hand to his neck, amazed to find it intact and relieved he could breathe freely again. Before he could work out whether it was worth his effort to retaliate, the receptionist cut in with a clap of her hands, “Right! The drama is over folks. You asked for that, Tony! Now move aside and let them go take their seats.”
Sally smiled gratefully at her, as she took hold of Stephen’s hand and led him away to sit down in the waiting area. The security guard stepped aside, and the people waiting in line parted like Moses before the Red Sea to make way for them, having momentarily forgotten their own troubles in the fracas.
“Thank you for that,” she leaned in and whispered to him after they had sat down.
“Thank you for what? I should be apologising to you.”
“For defending me?”
“For nearly losing it.” He looked at Sally, and it hurt her to see his eyes become as unfathomable as a mirror in the dark. “I could have killed him.”
“But you didn’t. That’s what matters.”
"No, I’m capable of killing. That’s what matters. Can you lov- have feelings for a guy like that?”
Love, Stephen? Was that what you were about to say? She felt her throat constrict; it almost choked the next words that came out of her mouth. “Did you mean what you said back there?”
He looked at her questioningly. “I said a lot of things back there. I usually say what I mean.”
“When you called me your girlfriend? Or was that just for the guard’s benefit?”
His eyes darkened even more. “You have to believe that whatever I’ve done, I did it thinking it was best for you. Believe that.”
The trouble was Sally did - the moment she looked into his eyes she believed she could trust anything he told her. It was the rest of the time she found it difficult. She was about to say just that, when she heard her name called out by a young female in a white coat, holding a large file.
Flustered and shamefaced for having momentarily forgotten her brother, she jumped up from her seat to make her way towards what she assumed was an intern. Stephen steadied her as they made their way towards the fresh faced young doctor.
Shaking the doctor’s outstretched hand, she said, “I’m Sally McMasters. How is my brother?”
“My name is Dr. Moira McBride. You are Iain’s legal guardian I take it?”
Sally nodded, muted.
“Better than to be expected under the conditions. Whoever found him did so just in time.” The doctor looked at the file in front of her, and then inquisitively at Stephen. “Is this man his family? I understand from your brother’s file you are his sole legal guardian?”
Noticing Sally’s hesitation, Stephen replied, “No. I’m just a friend.”
“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to wait here.” The doctor turned to Sally, who hadn’t taken her eyes off the file. “Will you follow me please, so we can talk about this in private?”
Stephen kissed her on the cheek. “You go. I’m here.”
Sally nodded, her mind trying to take in what the doctor had just said. Whoever found him did so just in time. So, Iain had nearly died. If Daisy hadn’t thought to go back to her house to check on Iain first, she would have lost her brother. Daisy had saved her brother’s life, while she had been getting licked out in some alleyway like one of those women her father had always ranted about. Like her mother, presumably.
But it had felt so right. Stephen felt so right. She didn’t really believe in the Victorian attitudes of a bitter old man, and yet, she had nearly lost her baby brother tonight. How could she not see this as some sign?
Her mind and her heart were once again warring amid a hodgepodge of emotions. Jumbled up and knocked about in a sea of guilt, shame, defiance, anger, she was drowning in it all, and at the heart of the storm was her feelings of inadequacy for having failed her baby brother.
“Miss McMasters? You do understand what I’m telling you? We will have to keep him in under observation for a while on our paediatric floor. The police have also been notified. They will want to question why an autistic boy of his age and vulnerability was left alone at home.”
Sally’s boots squeaked to a stop on the shiny linoleum. “You make him sound like an invalid, doctor! My brother is very independent, and very strong willed.”
“Some people with autism are able to live relatively independent lives but others may have accompanying learning disabilities and need a lifetime of specialist support. Iain is a nine year old boy who was so distressed at being left alone he almost killed himself trying to escape through his bedroom window.”
Sally sucked in a sharp intake of breath on hearing what happened to her brother in that way, and on seeing her reaction, the doctor softened her stance. “Iain suffers from a lifelong developmental disability that affects the way a person communicates and relates to people around them, as I am sure you are aware.”
“I am well aware of that.” Sally had taken a sudden dislike to this young intern.
“Well, you also know that they make sense of the world around them differently to you or me. Iain probably has an over-sensitivity to the dark, which was instrumental in his irrational need to escape.”
The doctor was right, her brother was afraid of the dark. They had a bedtime routine they had to perform before he would even get into bed, and a special bedside lamp they kept on at all times. She had warned Daisy to tell the babysitter about keeping the lamp on. And what had happened to the babysitter Daisy had hired for Iain? Where was she in all this? At once there were a lot of questions that needed answers - and Sally was going to make sure she found them.
“He lost his father recently?”
“Dad died a year ago. Iain took it hard.”
“I am not saying this has been easy for you either, Miss McMasters. After the death of a parent, siblings can often find they are unprepared to deal with a younger dependent who is autistic. I am not here to judge, and I won’t pretend I can fully empathise. Naturally this is difficult for you, too, but I have to consider Iain’s welfare above all else.”
“What are you trying to say? That I’m not capable of looking after my brother?”
“That’s not for me to decide.”
Sally suddenly straightened her back, her spine employing some of Stephen’s steel. “You’re damn right it isn’t! I’ve been helping to look after my brother my entire life, even when the old man was alive. You make it sound like years of neglect. How dare you assume what you can’t possibly know, Dr. McBride. By the way, just how long have you been a doctor anyway?”
“I didn’t mean-”
Sally was glad to see a light blush on the young doctor’s face. “Frankly, I couldn’t give two hoots what you did mean. Believe me, I am very interested to speak to the police myself, as I have questions of my own. But right now the most important thing is that I see my brother. Are you going to take me to him, or should I just scream the place down?”
“It’s two floors up, come with me,” she said quietly. “We can talk more when you’re calm.”
“I am calm, believe me. And I’ll fight anyone who tries to take my brother away from me.” Sally felt energised, and more in control then she had ever in her life. It was completely out of the blue, and she didn’t know the reason for it, but as she followed the doctor with stronger strides, impatient to see her brother, she wished deep inside that Stephen had seen her in action. She was sure he would be proud of the way she handled herself.
She felt his absence keenly then; he should be here with her. Maybe she had been looking at this the wrong way. What if this was a good omen? She remembered how Stephen had been so assertive in his support of her, had taken care of her, been there for her. This emergency had shown her how good they could be together. So, why hadn’t she said he was family when the doctor had questioned him?
She regretted not speaking up, but he had said he would wait for her, and Sally decided if Stephen was still around after checking on her brother, she wouldn’t let him go a second time. Not without a fight. Her brother, too. And Daisy, a small voice asked inside her, what about Daisy?
She would deal with Daisy in her own good time.
End of Chapter 5 | Read Chapter 6
Yours in love,
