“No one’s going to prison, Deb,” Lukas says, stepping between us. “It was an accident. A horrible fucking accident. You should just leave. Nobody needs this. We’re all upset.”
She glares at me over Lukas’s shoulder as Storm tries to drag her out the door. “I’m going to make you suffer for this, Vandal! You fucking baby killer!”
“I’ve been suffering my whole life, you cunt. Don’t ever come near me again. We have nothing more to say to each other.” A security guard enters the room and yanks Deb out as my doctor comes in right behind them. “I know this is a stressful situation, but can you people please remember this is a hospital? There are sick people here,” he scolds, as if we’re all stupid.
I can’t hold back my sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, one just got dragged away.”
“What happened here?” He points to the hole in the wall. “You’re going to have to pay for this damage, Mr. Valentine.”
“Fine. Whatever. Can I just go home now?”
The good doctor eyes my hand. “I’m going to have the nurse come in and get your hand cleaned up first. And might I suggest you talk to the psychiatrist on staff? I think you are going to need some anger and grief counseling, Mr. Valentine.”
Lukas nods in agreement. “I think that’s a good idea, Van. Someone to talk to …”
“Fuck. No. I don’t talk.” What I really need is to go home and talk to my good friend Jack Daniels for a few hours.
“Your brother is right,” Doc says to me, and hands Lukas a business card. “This is her information. Maybe when things … settle a bit, he can give her a call.”
“He’s still in the room,” I say sarcastically. “And he’s not talking to a shrink.”
I sit impatiently on the bed as the nurse cleans and bandages my bleeding and swollen knuckles. Apparently only one nurse and one doctor are allowed to treat me while I’m here to diminish the chances of hospital staff who could be fans of the band swarming in here. I have a feeling my aunt and uncle somehow paid for that to happen.
“Mr. Valentine, I’m hesitant to give you a prescription for sedatives in your current state, although I do think you need something to help you calm down,” the doctor comments. I didn’t even hear him come back into the room.
“Don’t worry, Doc. I’m not going to take the whole bottle. Been there, done that.”
“Vandal … come on, man,” Storm voices from his corner of the room, his fiancée hanging on to his hand as if she’s afraid she might get lost if she lets go.
“What, Storm? You don’t want to talk about all the stuff that me, you, and my little bro here have in common?”
I watch him look uneasily at his fiancée, Evie, and I know that he hasn’t told her about his own little trip to the psych ward years ago. Of course I wasn’t part of the family when that happened, but I know all about it thanks to Google. And my younger brother, who I actually kinda like, has deep, telltale scars on both his wrists that even his tattoos can’t hide from my knowing eyes.
Funny how much we all have in common, how parallel our lives were, even though we didn’t grow up together.
***
Just when I think I can leave, Aria, Asher, my lawyer, Sam, our band manager, Don, and our publicist, Helen, all parade into the room.