“Thank you.”
He comes back into the room some time later with a wheelchair and I sigh. “Come on, kid.” I laugh as he comes to help me up and into the chair.
As he pushes me down the hall, I bring my legs up into myself, wrapping my arms around them. As we turn the corner, I just know it’s Axe’s room as we get closer, and I see his mom sitting at the bed. I panic. “Take me back. I can’t. Ash… no…” I’m smacking the seat.
“Ella, it’s fine.”
“No, Ash…” I shake and now I’m shouting as I see her head poke out of the room and at me.
“Ella,” she smiles at me. Before she walks over and grabs the chair from Ash, wheeling me the rest of the way into the room. “He came and told me he was bringing you up. I’m glad you’re awake. He woke up a little while ago, but fell back asleep after the doctor left.”
I instantly feel guilty. If only she knew why her son was in this bed right now. She wouldn’t let me in the room. Covering my face, I can’t face her.
“Ella?” She looks at me, confused.
“You shouldn’t let me in here.” I’m sobbing now and she smiles at me.
“I know.” But she’s not telling me she knows I shouldn’t be here. No, she’s telling me she knows what happened.
“What?”
“I know what happened.” She nods out of the room. “They already told me.”
“And you still let me in here?”
“Yes.” She nods her head.
“Why?”
“Because it’s not your fault.” She pats my leg. “What those boys probably aren’t telling you is the dose of drugs that he gave you nearly killed you. You’ve been here for 2 days. They have kept you out because the effects of the drugs can last awhile and they didn’t want you going through that.” She nods. “And if I was going to keep you out of the room for anything, it wouldn’t be that.”
“What would it be?” I ask her, causing her to laugh.
“Oh, I don’t know, keeping my grandson from me.” I grimace as she just laughs. “Oh, I understand.” She pauses. “But where is he?”
“He’s safe.” I whisper to her before I nod my head, regaining some ounce of confidence. “We decided it would be best if he stayed with Lucy at her parent’s house with the rest of the kids. I really prefer that he doesn’t see either of us like this though.” She nods her head. “How did you find out about him?”
“Carter told me.” She smiles over at her son. “We haven’t spoken in a long time. When he got arrested after you left, we had a bit of a falling out.” She produces a sad smile. “One night a few months ago, there’s a pounding on my door, and here’s my son… in tears.” She smiles. “He was so conflicted. You had been back for a couple of days, and he didn’t know what to do. He loved spending time with Jagger.” She smiles just by his name. “Told me all about him. But he was also fucking terrified because it’s like surprise you’re a parent.”
“I know I feel like shit about the whole thing.”
“You tried to tell him. It’s not your fault that life has a way of being a fickle bitch.” Her words catch me off guard and I laugh out loud. “But that’s not the only thing he was conflicted about. He was always conflicted when it came to you.”
“What do you mean?” I’m confused as I look at her.
“Before he brought you to meet me. I had the feeling for some time about him like he was being pulled in two different directions.” She pauses. “I understood when I met you. The age difference wasn’t easy then. Especially with your father.” The mention of my father makes me sad for a second. “But seeing the two of you together when you were leaving the house that day. Seeing how he looked at you. I’ve never seen my son look at anyone that way.” She hesitates for a second before looking over at the bed. “When he was arrested, I went and visited with him once. I asked him if he had done what it was he was being accused of. And he told me not exactly that he had done worse, but he knew that the evidence they were claiming they had wasn’t there. I told him he was a disgrace to me and I left him there, with no family support. It’s my biggest regret.”
I say nothing, just continue to look at her.
“He finally told me what had happened when he showed up a few months ago.”
“What did he tell you?” I ask her with fear lining my voice.
She takes a deep breath before she looks back at me, reaching over and clasping my hand. “That what he did, what else he’s planning on doing, he’d gladly spend the rest of his life in prison for doing it, because it’s justified.” She’s looking at me with this loving look, no pity in her eyes, even though I can tell that she knows everything. “He didn’t have to say what exactly…” she trails as she looks at me again. Slowly, I nod my head confirming her assumptions. She sighs before she brings me in closer for a hug and it’s weird… the feeling of having the affection from a mother…
We fall into a peaceful silence, and she gives me reassuring looks occasionally, rubs my shoulder.
“How’s your hand?” She asks, and I shrug.