Page 13 of Inevitable Secrets

Taylor stayed wrapped in Charlie’s embrace, but her mind was in an absolute tailspin. She got it now. She totally got how Derrick had felt when he kept pushing security onto her, on wanting her to be in a bubble, on his obsession of keeping her safe. He had gone years without being able to speak with her to ensure she was okay. She could see how painful it must have been when he couldn’t talk to her. What if she lost him? What if this was it? What if the last time they had actually spoken to each other was with him bleeding out on a red carpet?

“Taylor? Are you okay?”

The voice was all warbled and the room was spinning. Suddenly Taylor was pushed into a chair, her head between her legs, and Marty’s voice was there in her ear, telling her to breathe.

Her mind went back to the plane, when Derrick had done the same thing to help her get through the onslaught of anxiety that was being thrown at her. She realized that as bad as she had thought that was, this felt infinitely worse.

She had to do something. She needed to figure out who had done this and why they were doing it. Was she the target? Or was it Derrick all along? Was it someone just looking to be noticed? And how were the police ever going to be able to devote enough time to it?

She couldn’t let this go unsolved.

And she realized she needed to get a freaking handle on herself because there was no way she was going to figure anything out with her head between her knees.

Suddenly Taylor sat herself up. “I’m okay,” she said clearing her throat. “Really,” she said, her voice steady even though she was shaking inside. But she knew she needed to assure the group before her that she was fine. And she needed to assure herself a little bit, too.

“Have you eaten, Taylor?” Charlie asked.

Taylor shook her head.

“Tay, you’ve gotta take care of yourself,” Marty chastised.

“Well that’s part of the problem,” Charlie said tenderly. “Why don’t you go and get something to eat.”

“I’m not leaving him again,” she said firmly.

Charlie nodded, totally unfazed by Taylor’s rash interjection. “Fine. We will have food brought to you.”

“Okay,” Taylor agreed, “and Marty also, please.”

“Of course,” Charlie said. “Now about a statement, Arthur and I wanted to make sure—”

Taylor pinned the older man with a death glare.

“I guess we could just go ahead with what you gave us if that is what you want, Taylor.”

“It is,” she said. And with that, Charlie, Todd, and Arthur went off to forage.

Taylor got up, crossed the room, and touched the side of Derrick’s face. “Hey there,” she said, feeling his stubbled cheek abrade her palm. She kissed his cheek and touched her forehead to his. “I love you.”

Taylor sat down by Marty and the two women leaned into each other as they looked over Derrick.

“Taylor, as much as I want to just sit here and stare at that shithead with you, I am wiped,” Marty admitted. “I’m gonna head up to the Ironman tower and just relax for a bit. Is that cool with you?”

“Of course,” Taylor said. “If we don’t take care of ourselves, we are no good to him, right? You rest, and I will have them bring food to the ivory tower.”

“Okay, but if…”

“If anything changes, I will come get you,” Taylor vowed to Marty before she could even ask the question.

Marty nodded and looked over at her brother, while Taylor looked at Marty. She saw the bags under her eyes, the fatigue on her face, and was sad for how much Marty had endured in just a few months’ time. Then she rolled her eyes when she realized how much she had also been through in that time.

Taylor watched Marty go over and kiss Derrick’s forehead. “Heal up dork, and btw your B.O. is horrendible,” she said as she came away from him with the most disgusted face. “Seriously, Tay, he needs deodorant or Febreze or something. It’s bad,” Marty stage whispered to Taylor.

Taylor smiled at her sister-in-law. “I will get on it,” she promised. “Now go get some sleep.”

Finally alone with Derrick, Taylor pulled her chair over to his bedside, the weight of the world on her. She looked at him, his eyes closed, his breathing so rhythmic. She heard the clicks and the beeps of the monitors and machines around them. She took a deep breath, wrapped Derrick’s hand in hers, and placed a soft kiss on his palm. Taylor wanted to be positive. She knew he was doing well, but the picture before her did not look very good. Taylor was so wrapped up in her thoughts she did not notice Henry until he crouched down next to her. She turned when Henry spoke. “Taylor, I think—”

“Hello Mrs. Fletcher, my name is Dr. Merk and I am the pulmonologist taking care of your husband while he is on the ventilator,” a man stated coming through the doorway, looking immediately at the monitor with Derrick’s vital signs on it. His appearance stopped whatever Henry was about to say, and instead sent him back to standing position behind Taylor. “Mr. Fletcher has done really well overnight,” the doctor remarked, not once looking at Taylor.

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