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It was what held me back when I visited Lindie.
Justin was trying to brace himself to face a nightmare that could go very wrong very easily. His father wasn’t in the best mood, and he was the type to take that out on others.
I grabbed Justin’s hand. “I’ll be with you.”
“I can’t ask you to go in there.”
“And I can’t leave you without support. I’ll go in. Maybe it’ll make him behave.” Abusers liked privacy. They knew what they were doing was wrong and didn’t want others to know.
Justin snorted. “He’s not in his right mind anymore.”
I pressed my lips together, wanting to tell him his father wouldn’t act out. Justin was right though. If he had hurt a nurse, there was no telling how he’d act or how he thought he was acting. I drew in a breath to steady myself and then squeezed Justin’s hand.
“If you’re going in there, then so am I. I’ll be fine.”
“Nothing about this is fine.”
“Do you want to walk away?” I asked, not judging him at all. If he did, I’d steal him away and make sure he never came to see his father until the man was dead and gone. I’d do that for Justin. All he had to do was tell me that was what he wanted.
For a long time, Justin didn’t say anything, still staring at the closed blinds. I was ready to tug him down the hallway, already coming up with a game plan to make sure he didn’t need to come back here.
Justin sighed. “Let’s go in.”
“Okay.”
I still held Justin’s hand as he led us into the room. There was a sour scent in the air, mixed in with cleaning supplies. Justin’s dad was sitting up, the bed having been lifted so he lay at an incline.
The man was practically a skeleton. All skin and bones. Pallid skin. He looked like a ghost. Horror hit me, but I clamped it down. I wasn’t looking at a monster. Well, I was, but not the grotesque kind of monsters from some kind of horror movie. He was a different kind of horror, one hiding in a human body. A dying body now.
His short hair was thin and wispy. Looked like it could have been black, but it was covered in grey.
“Who the hell is she?” the man rasped out, voice harsh but weak from effort.
“She’s a friend,” Justin cooly replied as he moved around to stand by his father’s side. “How are you feeling?”
“Get out,” he said looking at me. “I’m not some fucking freak show to watch.”
“No,” I said simply, staying near the door, but planting my feet. I hid my shaking hands behind me, curling them into a fist to keep them steady.
“I said get out, I don’t want you here.”
My mouth went dry, and I focused on Justin. “I’m not here for you, so I don’t care. I’m here with Justin.”
“Bitch, get the fuck out of my room!” The pure rage in his voice made my whole body hot and clammy. All my instincts to run rose up. Danger. Right there. Within reach. Rushing blood roared in my ears, playing a symphony of warning and danger.
“Dad!” Justin snapped at him.
The man broke into a coughing fit, giving me enough time to push back the fear. He couldn’t do anything to me. He was a dying man stuck in his bed, too weak to even sit up on his own.
Justin handed him a drink of water from a cup next to the bed. The man drank sloppily, water spilling down his chin and onto his chest, but he finally settled down.
“Get out.” His dull eyes narrowed on me.
“If I leave, so does Justin,” I finally said.
“You can’t take him from me.”
I gritted my teeth, wanting to say so much to this bastard.
