Never Let You Go (a modern fairytale) (32 page)

“Thank you, M-Maya,” he said, a lump forming in his throat, making his voice sound choked.

“See you soon, Holden,” she said, disconnecting the call.

Holden clenched the steering wheel, hating himself for letting Gemma drive Griselda away, and pushing down hard on the gas.

***

“Zelda?”

Someone was calling her name. A man. A man she didn’t know. Why was there a man she didn’t know in the cabin?

“Zelda? Can you hear me?”

His voice was distorted, muffled, like he was talking into a pillow.

“Try
Gris
elda,” said someone who sounded a lot like Maya.

“Griselda? Can you open your eyes for me?”

I think I can
, she thought, but oh God, they were so heavy. She concentrated, trying to take a deep breath, but holy hell, her chest hurt like crazy every time she tried to inflate her lungs. A rusty, whimpering sound echoed in her brain, and she realized it had come from her own throat.

“I think she’s coming around,” said the male voice again. “Open up those eyes, Griselda.”

Using all her strength, she forced her lids to separate, but only one of her eyes would open. She kept it narrowly opened, the light in the room bright and painful.

“Nurse, pull the shades, please.”

An older man with gray hair and glasses was staring at her, not too far from her face. Though he looked kind, he wasn’t familiar to her, and she still felt panicked. She wasn’t at the cabin. Where was Holden? Had the man said “nurse”?

“She’s going to be disoriented. Step over here, Ms. Harper, so she can see you.”

Suddenly the older man’s face was eclipsed by Maya’s, and Griselda almost sighed with relief. If Maya was here, she was safe.

“Hey, baby girl.”

“MMMaya,” she rasped, her throat dry and painful. “You got . . . water?”

“Nurse? Get us some ice chips, please.” The older man’s face moved beside Maya’s, but Griselda stayed focused on her friend.

“Griselda, you’re at Laurel Regional Hospital,” the man said. His voice, like Maya’s, was distorted, and Griselda had to concentrate hard to make out his words. “You sustained some injuries after an altercation with your boyfriend, a Mr.—”

“Jonah,” said Maya. “The night I brought you home.”

“Home? No. Cabin.”

Home? When did I go home? I should still be at the cabin.

“I drove you home from West Virginia,” said Maya, her voice slow and gentle, but still garbled. She turned to the older man, whom Griselda now realized was a doctor. “Does she not remember?”

“Short-term memory loss is common. Was she at a cabin recently?”

“Yes,” said Maya. “She spent two weeks at a cabin with her foster brother. I picked her up and drove her home on Sunday.”

“So about four days ago. Okay. That’s good. It gives us a timeline. It appears she has no memory of the last few days, but that’s not at all uncommon.” He looked back at Griselda and spoke slowly, “Griselda? It’s Wednesday.”

No. No, it’s not. It’s Friday.
She tried to take a deep breath and sit up, but the pain in her chest was so sharp she whimpered, leaning back down.

Maya drew closer. “Don’t try to move, baby girl. Jonah hurt you, Zelda. He broke a couple of your ribs and punctured your lung. Your head . . .”

“Help, Maya,” she sobbed, feeling overwhelmed and as helpless as a baby. “Help. Help me find Holden.”

“He’s coming, Zelda. I promise he’s coming.”

She didn’t know why she was crying, but her chest hurt and her head hurt and her face hurt. She wasn’t at the cabin, she was in the hospital, and Holden wasn’t here with her. Apparently she’d been beat up badly by Jonah, but she had no recollection of seeing him, and she couldn’t imagine Holden ever letting that happen. She was confused and sad and frightened.

“Her blood pressure’s on the rise,” said the doctor. “I’m going to give her something to make her sleep.”

A moment later their voices faded away, and her eyes closed.

Mercy.

Chapter 30

 

Holden parked his truck in the visitor parking lot, catching a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror as he cut the engine. He looked like a mess. Same shirt he had on last night, wild hair, red-rimmed eyes, two-day scruff of beard growing in golden-brown. He grimaced, took his keys out of the ignition, and swung his legs out of the truck. Before he saw her, he’d find a men’s room and splash some cold water on his face. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it down. It was the best he could do.

Maya had texted him that Griselda was still in the ICU, though the doctor said they’d be moving her to a regular room soon. She’d woken up once since he talked to Maya, and she’d been so distorted and distressed the doctor had put something in her IV to calm her and make her go back to sleep. Maya said she thought Griselda would be waking up in a few hours and hoped that seeing Holden would help things go more smoothly. Apparently Gris didn’t remember leaving the cabin, the confrontation with Gemma, or their horrible, heart-wrenching good-bye. He was grateful for that in some ways.

He strode into the hospital and stopped by the information kiosk to ask for directions. He didn’t know what time visiting hours ended and didn’t ask. He’d fight anyone who tried to take him away from her. He wasn’t leaving until he was sure she was going to be okay.

Stepping onto the elevator, he pressed the button for the second floor, clenching and unclenching his fists as he steeled himself against seeing her injuries.

“Everything okay, son?”

He looked up in surprise. When he entered the elevator, he hadn’t noticed anyone else, but a uniformed soldier stood in the corner, looking at Holden with concern and compassion.

“Yes, sir.”

“Visiting someone?”

Holden nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Hope they’re on this side of okay by this time tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The doors opened, and Holden exited the elevator, following the signs for the ICU. When he got to a locked set of metal double doors, he rang the bell but was told by a nurse via intercom that he wasn’t on the approved visitor list.

Frustrated, he texted Maya.
They won’t let me in.

Give me a minute.
Then,
Sabrina’s coming. She’ll get you in.

Holden pushed his phone back into his pocket, assuming that Sabrina was a nurse until the doors opened and a young woman in street clothes stood staring at him.

“Holden?”

This woman was no nurse. She was stunning—superclassy and probably very rich. It only took Holden a moment to realize that Sabrina was Mrs. McClellan. She had to be.

“Mrs. McClellan?”

“Yes. She mentioned me?”

Holden nodded.

“And you’re the foster brother?”

“I was. Once.”

“And now?”

He shrugged. He didn’t know how much Gris would want him to share with her employer. Hell, he didn’t even know if Sabrina knew about what he and Griselda had been through.

Without pushing him for more information, she gave him a grim smile and stepped back so he could precede her through the metal door.

“I warn you, she doesn’t look good.”

“I’ve seen it b-before,” he whispered, wishing it wasn’t true, but it was. He’d seen her face and back cracked open more than he could count, her shoulder dislocated, her wrists and ankles raw and bloody. He was no stranger to Griselda being injured.

“You were in the system with her?” asked Sabrina, walking briskly down one hallway before turning down another.

It smelled like antiseptic and sickness, and Holden’s stomach whirled in protest. He hated hospitals. Always had. Especially this one because it held a broken, beaten Griselda.

“Uh, yeah. For a little wh-while.”

“And then?”

She had stopped in front of a room, her hand on the doorknob, her eyes looking up at his, inquisitive, sympathetic.

“C-can I see her, please?”

Sabrina nodded. “Yes. Then we’ll talk?”

Holden didn’t answer as she twisted the knob. He stepped into the dim, quiet room.

“Holden?” whispered Maya.

His eyes adjusted, and he saw a light-skinned black woman approach him from the far side of the room.

“Yeah.”

She wrapped her arms around him, catching him off guard, and he stood awkwardly, finally raising one hand to pat her on the back.

“Thanks for coming,” she said.

“I need to see her.”

Maya released him and stepped aside. “I’ll be outside with Sabrina. Come find me when you’re ready, and I’ll give you an update, okay?”

Maya brushed past him, slipping silently out the door and leaving Holden and Griselda alone. He made it to her bedside in two steps. He braced himself before opening his eyes.

Gris. Gris. Oh God, oh Jesus.

Her right eye was severely swollen and discolored—black and blue and green—and over it was a gash in her forehead that had been closed with seven butterflies. Her amber hair had crusted blood in it, and her ear was swollen and bruised, with dried blood in the ear cavity and maroon and black bruises underneath.

The hospital sheets were pulled up to her chin, but he drew them down. She was covered in a hospital gown, so he wasn’t able to see her chest. IV lines and heart monitor wires peeked out from the light blue fabric. He re-covered her carefully so he didn’t disturb anything. Glancing at the monitor over her bed, he noted that her heart rate seemed even and her blood pressure normal.

He sat down in the chair beside her bed. He reached under the sheet for her fingers and held them gently, careful not to disturb the IV port on the back of her hand.

“G-Gris? C-can you hear me? I’m here, angel. I’m here with you. I’m here.”

She made a soft sound in the back of her throat, rotating her head a touch so she was facing him in her sleep.

“I love you so m-much,” he sobbed softly. “And I’m so f-fucking sorry I wasn’t there to p-protect you.”

She made that sound again, then sighed, “S’okay.”

“I’m gonna stay with you for a while, Gris.”

“I jump . . .” she said, her eyes still closed, her lips moving slowly.

“That’s right,” he said, sniffling. “I jump, you jump.”

She was silent for so long, he was sure she’d fallen back to sleep when he suddenly realized she was trying to say something else.

“. . . whole or . . . broken?”

He clenched his eyes shut and lowered his forehead to the bed beside her undamaged ear as his tears fell over the bridge of his nose and plopped on the sheet between them. “Whole, angel. I’m w-with you, so I’m wh-whole. G-go back to sleep. I’m here. I’ll stay.”

She murmured unintelligibly, and a moment later he could tell she was asleep again.

He lifted his head and watched her sleep for a while as his mind tried unsuccessfully to figure out a solution to their separation. He was miserable without her, which made his life in West Virginia completely worthless and almost unbearable. He hated Gemma. He damn near hated his unborn baby, then cringed, taking back the thought because it wasn’t true. All he wanted was to be with Gris, and yet he couldn’t offer her—or his kid, for that matter—anything good, anything substantial. His life was a train wreck, and he didn’t have the first idea of how to get it to a good place—to a place where his love and his child could be safe, could be loved, could be proud of him.

Defeated and despairing, he lay his head back down beside hers, carefully braided his fingers through hers, and eventually fell asleep.

***

“Holden? Holden, wake up.”

He blinked, sat up straight, and looked up. Maya and Sabrina stood beside him, and the room was much brighter than before.

“I’m n-not leaving,” he said, panicked at the idea of being forced to leave Griselda.

Sabrina cocked her head to the side in confusion, then took a breath, nodding in realization. “Don’t worry. Visiting hours don’t apply to the ICU. You don’t have to leave. You can stay as long as you want to.”

“I slept a while.”

“So did she,” said Maya, with a sad smile. “Best sleep she’s had in days. I checked on you two a couple of times, and she wasn’t tossing and turning or calling out. Both of you just sleeping like babies. But we thought you might need some lunch.” Maya put a hand on his shoulder. “Go on. I’ll stay with her. Doc said the meds should wear off in another hour or so.”

Holden looked back at Griselda, regretfully pulling his fingers away from hers and standing up to stretch.

“Can I buy you lunch?” asked Sabrina, gesturing to the door.

“I can buy my own,” said Holden.

She gave him a polite smile and nodded.

“You need anything, Maya?”

“I already ate, but I wouldn’t say no to Twizzlers,” she said.

“Coming right up,” he said, and he followed Sabrina out the door.

He pulled the hospital room door closed and turned to her. “Thanks for being here.”

Sabrina nodded. “Of course. I care very much for Zelda. She’s been with us for four years, though I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t know her very well before now.”

They made their way back through the metal doors where she’d met him, heading for the elevator that would take them to the cafeteria two floors down.

“How long was she with Jonah?” Sabrina said.

She said his name like a dirty word, and Holden liked her for that. He was mistrustful of wealthy people, having grown up in a modest, but happy, home before his fractured adolescence. He didn’t have experience with rich folks. They were from a different planet—for all that it mattered, a different universe—that orbited far, far away from his.

But she seemed nice enough, even if she dressed too fancy for a hospital, in flowy pants and a shiny shirt. She wore a gold necklace that was probably real, and her blonde hair was in a smooth, twisty bun on the back of her head. She looked expensive, and that made him nervous, but she was kind to Gris, being here, giving her a job, encouraging her to think about college. Despite her fancy-pants appearance, he needed to give Sabrina a chance.

“Jonah? I don’t know. A year. Something like that.”

“I noticed the bruises from time to time. I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t want to embarrass her.”

Holden’s eyes shot to hers at this confession, but he kept his lips tightly sealed lest he burst forth in a series of curse words that would turn her blonde hair white.

She read his censure with ease, and her cheeks pinkened. “I should have done something.”

“Yes. You should have.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sabrina.

“Gris mighta stayed with him anyway.”

“Gris,” she said softly.

“Her full name is Griselda.”

“Griselda. Zelda. I had no idea,” said Sabrina. She took a breath and exhaled heavily. “That’s very common in abusive relationships, you know. For a woman to stay with her abuser.”

Holden glanced at her, but didn’t comment.

“And you were her foster brother?”

The elevator dinged to announce their floor. “Yeah. Before we were, uh, abducted.”

Sabrina flinched as Holden held the door for her to leave the elevator. She stood frozen, the color drained from her face. “Ab—”

“Abducted. K-kidnapped.” He had no idea what made him suddenly talk about their ordeal. Maybe it was that he sensed Sabrina McClellan really wanted to help Griselda and she needed help, and Holden wasn’t in a position to offer much. The least he could do was find someone else who could give her a hand.

Sabrina stared at him in shock until the elevator started buzzing, and then she dropped his eyes and exited quickly. Silent until they reached the cafeteria, she finally turned to him, her eyes stricken. “Kidnapped. My God.”

He turned to her, searching her eyes and deciding to trust her with everything. Maya was great, but Holden’s guess was that Maya was just squeaking by. Griselda needed someone other than Maya in her court. She needed someone strong, someone who could offer her real support. Perhaps Sabrina could be that person, but not unless she understood the true depth of Griselda’s character . . . and need.

“W-we were kidnapped from a country road in West Virginia when we were ten years old and held captive in a man’s basement for three years. B-beaten regularly. Forced to work.”

“Were you . . .?”

He could see it in her eyes—the terrible question, the worst question.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “W-we weren’t molested.”

Sabrina took a deep, ragged breath, then nodded, urging him to keep going.

“After a few years, Gris escaped. I didn’t. I was told she was d-dead, but she wasn’t. She went back into foster care. We . . . found each other two weeks ago. I love her. She loves me. When she came home, her shitbag b-boyfriend b-beat her up.” Holden let go of the breath he’d been holding, shrugging in apology for cursing. “I think you’re all caught up.”

“Dear God,” sighed Sabrina, her pink-painted fingernails trembling over her lips.

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