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Authors: Stacy Borel

Hitchhiker (20 page)

BOOK: Hitchhiker
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Even though it was muffled, and I wasn’t sure he could hear me over the air coming out, I asked, “Where am I?”

“You’re at the Maine Medical Center, in Portland.”

My eyes drooped. Maine? “How did I get here?”

“Your fiancé, Mr…” He looked back at his sheet. “Seth Rogan had you transferred here from Billings Clinic in Montana. Apparently, you’d been there for two days before all the paperwork came through. He said Maine was your home of record.”

I understood what he was saying, but why was I here? And I still didn’t understand where everyone was.

“Is he here?” I asked.

“Mr. Rogan? No. He has only been in once to make sure you had everything you needed and gave us his contact information in case anything changed. I’ll give him a call when I’m done in here and let him know you’re awake.”

I pulled the mask away from my face. “My dad?”

“He hasn’t been here, that I’m aware.”

A small drop of wetness went down my cheek. My dad hadn’t even come to see me.

“Chandler. It’s okay that I call you Chandler, isn’t it?” I nodded. “Here’s the issue.” He looked like he was about to hit me with something that I wouldn’t like. “When you were brought into the hospital in Montana, you were in really bad shape. You had a severe head wound, a lacerated spleen, three cracked ribs, and a punctured lung. They did everything they could there. You’ve had surgery to repair the spleen, and they sedated you to observe for any possible head trauma or brain swelling. When they felt you were stable enough, they flew you over here, and you’ve been under my care ever since.”

Holy crap! I hadn’t realized any of this had happened. Yes, my body was hurting, but I couldn’t exactly feel the extent of the pain, probably due to the drugs. Still, nothing was making sense.

“Where’s my cell phone? I need to call my dad.”

His features became more stern. “Unfortunately, I can’t let you do that. Now that you’re awake, you’re under a forty-eight-hour observation. After that time, if I deem you fit, you may have your belongings back.”

“What do you mean I’m under observation?”

“Chandler, what do you remember about the night of the wreck?”

I laid there, going back in my memory trying to grasp at anything that would make any of this make sense. Dawson and I had been fighting. He made me upset and I left. But what happened after that? God my dream… was that actually real? Had he come after me?

“How did I get to the hospital in Montana?”

His glasses slid a little further down his nose as he read, “It says in the chart that a phone call was made to 911 by a Mr. Michael. You were then taken by ambulance to a hospital in Bozeman, and they had to airlift you to Billings.”

Dawson, he had followed me. The tip of my nose tingled as I tried to hold back the dam of tears that were threatening to break loose. “Mr. Michael… did he uh, happen to come with me here?”

The doctor appeared confused. “No, you were alone.”

Any and all hope dropped. Where was he? Why did he chase me? He saved me, he must know that I’m okay, or at least be checking in on me.

“Chandler, there are some other things we need to discuss. This observation, we will be bringing in a couple different professionals that will ask you questions about your family history, any problems with depression, suicidal thoughts, or if this was the first time you’ve attempted to kill yourself.”

Whoa! Now that got my attention. “Excuse me?” I glanced around for a glass of water. My dry mouth couldn’t be tolerated any longer.

“It’s believed that you may have purposefully wrecked your car and drove it over a mountainside. Now, we’ve been made aware that you’ve had some issues recently, and you left home. Is this correct?”

“Yes, but I didn’t try and kill myself.”

“Well, according to your fiancé, he believes that you might be mentally unstable and had you admitted. Due to the nature of what happened, we have to take his request seriously.”

What in the hell? Seth did this? “Okay, I understand that, but I didn’t try to kill myself.”

“Can you tell me how it is that you wrecked your vehicle?”

“I can’t remember. But I know that I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Do you suffer from depression, Chandler?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I would resort to something so extreme.” I was getting worked up.

He had taken a pen from his pocket and written down a few things. “Do you know what kind of medication you’re currently on for your depression?”

I glared at him. “I’m not taking anything for it.”

He noted it, as if that solidified that I must be lying. “Is there any reason you haven’t been to the doctor to be put on an antidepressant?”

I leaned my head back against the raised bed. “Because I thought it was something that I could fix on my own. I just needed time and space to clear my head.”

He looked at me over the top of his glasses. “And did you think that leaving the state would solve it?”

I knew he didn’t mean it in a derogatory way, but I took it that way. I was livid that Seth put me here. He took me away from where I really wanted to be without my permission. I was even more pissed that my dad didn’t try to argue this with him, especially after the few phone calls I’d had with him over how I was feeling toward Seth. Made me wonder what was said between the two of them to make them believe this was all done on purpose, and why they thought this was the best option for me.

“I’d hoped it would,” I responded quietly. “Listen, the man who called 911, do you know where he is? Did he leave any information, like where he might be, or how to contact him?”

Sorting through some papers, he shook his head. “No, unfortunately, he left no contact info.”

I turned my head as much as my body would allow without severe pain and looked out the single window. It was raining outside, and the sky looked nearly black. My heart plummeted into my stomach. I had no way to contact Dawson. I knew he was likely gone from my house, especially after everything that had happened. And in all the time we’d spent together, I never got his number. How crazy was that? Why didn’t I ever just write it down?

“I’m tired. Can you come back later?” I refused to look at him.

“Yes, I certainly can. If you’re in any pain, push your nurse’s button, and someone will come in and get you something.”

I was done speaking. As soon as he left, I looked around my little ‘cell.’ That’s what it was, right? I was essentially a prisoner? I didn’t even know if I was allowed to go out in the hall without being mauled by some security guard thinking I was about to kill myself or someone else. Okay, maybe that was a little extreme, but still. How could Seth do this to me? Better yet, why would he do this? What sort of crazy thoughts did he have to make him believe that I would have gone off the road on purpose? If he didn’t show up here while I was here, especially after the doctor calls him to give him an update, I was going to hunt his ass down and throw his ring in his face. The engagement was off anyway. I’d never forgive him for this.

And Dawson, how could he come after me and not stay with me? Why was I in this mess alone and nobody was even here? Why was I always alone? Was this how I was meant to spend my life? One great love, a few memories to last me a lifetime, and live out my days with nobody by my side? I refused to believe that. Maybe Dawson wasn’t the one for me. He even said it himself. Although I don’t believe him as far as I can throw him. What he felt for me was very, very real. I knew that I scared him. It just made me sadder knowing that he allowed his fear to dictate choosing me over casual hook-ups and women who would never give a damn about him like I did. Maybe I needed to take some time apart from him as well, just so I could gain some perspective. We’d been inseparable for the last month and a half. That much time together was bound to cloud my judgment.

If this was really my answer, then why did I feel such an ache deep down in my gut that was more painful than the wounds I’d sustained? Only time would tell I guess. In the meantime, I’d have to figure out what it was that these people wanted me to say in order to get out of here without going any crazier than they already thought I was. Forty-eight hours, Chandler. You could do this.

IT WAS MY FOURTH DAY
in the hospital and I was lying in bed watching some soap opera that I used to watch religiously, but hadn’t seen in years. Pretty sure one of the characters had been killed off, but for whatever reason she was alive and well. Gotta love soap storylines. Oh well, it was mindless- and mindless was good when I had all the time in the world and nothing else to do. Just then there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” I responded.

The door swung open and in walked Seth. He was dressed in a business suit and looked like he always did when he came home from a long work week. He was holding a vase full of flowers in his hand and he stopped when he saw me.

“Hey.” He said.

He stood several feet away from the bed. “What are you doing here?” I scowled.

His brow raised. “I came to check on you. I wanted to know if you were okay.”

The laugh that came out of me was one I didn’t even recognize. “You wanted to know if I was okay? Oh, now that’s priceless. This coming from the man that had me admitted for suicide evaluation. I’d say I’m pretty fucking peachy. But I’m sure you called the good doctor to make sure I was being well taken care of.”

“I was just trying to take care of you, Chandler.” He said defensively. “I don’t know what’s been going on with you. First you leave without saying anything. Then you call me and end the engagement. And then I get a phone call saying you drove off the side of the road. How did I know that you didn’t do it all on purpose? You’ve not been acting like yourself.”

I was gaping at him. Pointing up at my swollen face, I snarled back. “Do you actually think I did this shit on purpose?” I turned my cheek so he could get a better look at the bruising. “Yeah, driving off a mountain side seemed like the ideal way to go. Get a fucking grip, Seth. And you’re right, I’ve not been myself. At least not while I was with you.”

He retreated a step. “No need to lash out at me, Chandler. I’m telling you how it was.”

“And so am I.”

He set the vase down on a rolling table that was under the TV. Sighing he said, “They nurse told me they will be releasing you sometime next week. I’ll be here to pick you up, if you want to call me and let me know when that happens.”

Snickering, I said, “You’re crazier than I am if you think I’m going anywhere with you. Seth, what you did literally broke the camel’s back. Nothing here can ever be salvaged if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He stared at me long and hard. Exhaling through his nose, his shoulders dropped and he appeared defeated. “I understand. If it’s any consolation, I do still love you.”

Those words hit me deep in my chest. “I know. I’m sorry things didn’t work out differently.”

“Me too.”

Neither of us had anything else to say. Seth simply turned on his heels and walked out the door and out of my life.

The questions they asked me in here were grueling. My time spent here was literally in my room doing nothing but seeing doctor after doctor, each with their own questions. By the time I was checking out and signing my release forms, I felt like I’d had a cavity search. Nothing was private… except him. I didn’t bring Dawson’s name up again. They didn’t need to know that I had fallen in love with someone who I’d picked up on the side of the road. It probably would have confirmed everything that they assumed about me. So instead, he remained the Good Samaritan who saved me from a car wreck. Being away from him was intense. I felt like someone had died. And really someone had. I had to accept the fact that even though he came after me, he didn’t deem me good enough to check on me or stay by my side. I let my thoughts wonder a couple of times… had he called to ask about me? The truth was that the odds were slim. It just wasn’t his style.

When my forty-eight-hour sentence had been up, the hospital moved me to a room on a different floor where I could give my body time to heal. Those hours dragged. I tried my best to shut the emotion completely off. Dawson said he did it all the time, why couldn’t I? Because when all was said and done, I wasn’t a cold person. I felt every emotion deeply. Things mattered to me.

BOOK: Hitchhiker
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