Page 128 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

CHAPTER34

Alone

JOEL

CHAPTER35

Live to Tell

DUSTY

Key is Baby.

Baby is Key.

And I’m fucked.

Rooms blur past my periphery as I follow the nurse down several corridors. Some with their doors open, some shut tight. I can’t help but look into each one I pass, my heart pounding harder and harder. What if he isn’t in a room at all? What if he’s not in recovery and they’re taking me to the morgue?

We push through one last set of doors. It’s quieter here, and finally the nurse turns into the first room on the right. I follow, but stop in the doorway. I can smell the blood. The bandages. That overwhelming sterile smell. It hits me viscerally, freezing me in place, and my throat closes up.

“Mrs. Thanger?”

The kind nurse takes my hand. She must see the fear in my eyes. How could she not? I must look like an utter mess.

“He’s right over here,” she says.

I give her a shaky nod, but I still can’t move.

“Were you in the accident as well?” she asks, and gives me a careful once-over.

“No, I . . . the smell.” Why is it so strong? “I lost a baby once . . . in a hospital.”

She understands immediately. Clasping both of my hands, she says gently, “I’m sorry. That must have been awful. Here . . .”

She reaches into the pocket on her scrubs, beneath the name badge that readsNancy, and reveals a tiny bottle of liquid.

“Peppermint oil,” the nurse—Nancy—explains. “Just a little under the nose and?—”

Like a miracle, the smell is gone. Or at least the wrong smell is gone, replaced by one that clears the fog and loosens my muscles.

“Better?” she asks.

“Yes. Much. Thank you.” My feet are still stuck to the floor, like there’s Elmer’s glue on the bottom of my shoes. With a tug to my hands, Nancy pulls me into the room toward the curtained off bed.

“I should warn you,” she says quietly, “he probably looks worse than he is. It might be frightening for you.”

I stop and squeeze her hand. “I—I . . .” I whisper. “Please, I?—”

“You can do this,” she says gently. “He needs you.”

Blinking furiously, I nod once, then take a shaky breath and follow her behind the curtain. I let out a choked sob at the sight that greets me. Joel lies on the bed, his hair shaved off one third of his head, giving him a kind of one-sided mohawk. There’s a long, angry scar and black stitches. The tattoos on his chest peek out from behind white bandages, and one of his arms is in a cast up to his shoulder.

“Oh god,” I breathe, stumbling forward. My hips hit the side of the bed in my rush to grasp his free hand. “Joel, oh my god!”

His face is so bruised he’s barely recognizable. Ugly black and blue lumps on his face. Bloody and swollen lips. How was it only hours ago that I kissed those delicious lips without a care in the world? What if we can never go back? The tears pour out of me as I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Oh dear, Mrs. Thanger, you’re freezing,” Nancy says. “Let me get you a warm blanket. I’ll be right back.”

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