Clarity 4 Read online

  “She won’t if you are discreet. I want my daughter back, Liam. If you can’t give me what I want, then I can’t give you what you want. Actually, I can take away everything you’ve ever wanted. I could make you lose your license to practice medicine by informing the authorities that you were sleeping with a patient while she was your patient.”

  “That’s not fair, Mr. Winters,” I say in a shaking voice. I hate being manipulated by this man’s power and money. I completely understand why Helen wanted to maintain her distance. Unfortunately, I am in desperate need of his help. “You promised you would use your influence to help me get this research grant. It’s really critical to my career right now, and I’ve done everything you asked. Can’t you just call the pharmaceutical company and put in a good word for me? Is that really too much to ask?”

  He laughs lightly. “You want me to help you get successful so that you can marry my daughter and help her build a life that has nothing to do with me? I don’t think so, son.”

  My anger begins bubbling up in my chest like a geyser. “Didn’t I hunt Helen down like you wanted? Didn’t I convince her to come back here with me? Didn’t I convince her to stay here even when she wanted to leave? Didn’t I perform the surgery like I promised I would? That was our deal. That’s all. I have gone above and beyond, and risked my job to take care of your daughter—that was never part of our bargain.”

  “You accomplished a great deal, Liam. That doesn’t change the fact that my daughter is completely ignoring my phone calls. She might as well be in another country. She might as well be dead to me! And now you want to marry her? She’ll grow even more distant. I’ll never speak to her again!”

  “Please, sir,” I mumble, growing exhausted. I can tell that the poor man is just afraid of losing his little girl. I know he’s not evil, but his threats are not helping this situation. “I have tried to convince Helen to reestablish ties with you. I got her to talk to you, didn’t I? Things were going well until she got that letter. That wasn’t my fault. I’m sorry, but she’s very stubborn. Once she sets her mind on something, it’s hard to dissuade her. I have tried my best, but I can’t control your daughter in every way.”

  “Liam, I have asked you to encourage my daughter to speak with me. I have asked you to plead my case. I have made sure you were financially comfortable—”

  “I know you gave her all that money, sir, and I appreciate that. It has helped us both a great deal, but—”

  “Break up with her, Liam,” the man finally says. “This is my final request. Leave my daughter, and I’ll make sure you get the grant.”

  I pause before responding, lifting a hand to comb through my hair. There is a sound in the break room, and I assume that Jennifer has returned. I step deeper into the kitchen for privacy. “Are you serious, Mr. Winters?” I say hoarsely. How could he possibly ask me for this? It defeats the whole point of me wanting the grant. If I don’t have Helen, I don’t even need to be successful as quickly as possible. Why am I being forced to choose between my career and my lover? Why can’t I have both?

  “Can you do that?” he asks me sternly.

  No. Hell no. But maybe I can lie and pretend that I will. Clenching my phone tightly in my hand, I grit my teeth together. “Yes, I’ll do anything. I can’t lose that grant money. I am just getting sick of these games. I can’t keep doing this to her.”

  “Just this one final task, Liam. Do as I say, and I’ll make you a millionaire before you’re thirty,” Mr. Winters promises. “Just break up with Helen and tell her that she can’t stay with you anymore.”

  “Wait a second. Let me get this straight,” I say softly. “You want me to kick her out? You really think that’s going to solve your problem?”

  “It’s the only way. I need her to remember who’s important in her life. I need her to remember that her father’s always going to be there for her when the shit hits the fan. I need you to make the shit hit the fan for me, Liam. Can you do that? Don’t just break up with her—I need you to really hurt her.”

  I simply cannot believe what I’m hearing. A little incredulous laugh leaves my chest. Is this man insane? “I see. So you want me to break up with her in the worst possible way, so that she’ll need her father? So that she’ll come running to you? You want me to be a jackass to her, is that what you’re saying?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. And if I do this, you’ll guarantee that I get my research grant?” I ask in disgust.

  “Yes,” Mr. Winters promises. “I’m sorry it has to be this way, Liam. Maybe after I patch things up with Helen...”

  I find myself ignoring the rest of our conversation, and just mumbling affirmative answers. I always thought that my own father was the biggest asshole on the planet, but it turns out that even really great parents with good intentions can get twisted up into being monsters.

  I thought that it was only a lack of money that could make people cruel and bitter like my father. It turns out that the affluent can become power hunger and and manipulative by being so used to getting everything they want. I hate feeling like a worthless pawn in his game.

  I could never break up with Helen, but maybe I could somehow lie and say that I have.

  I’ll do anything for that grant. I’m desperate.

  Maybe if I can explain the situation to her a little, she could actually help me.

  Maybe if I play this game well enough, I can still win.

  I just want everything. Why can’t I have it all? Why should I have to choose?

  I deserve more than this. I deserve everything.

  I’m going to find a way to take it.

  Chapter Three

  Now...

  “Be careful!” I shout to the paramedics as they lift her onto the stretcher. Helen’s body is bruised and lifeless, and Snowball is barking at the men furiously.

  “We’re going to need you to take a step back,” one of the paramedics tells me. “Don’t worry. We’ll take it from here. Go park your car and get a cup of coffee while you wait.”

  “I don’t need a fucking coffee!” I nearly roar. “I want to stay with her!”

  “We need to take her into surgery,” the paramedic tells me as he pushes me away from Helen’s body. The other men begin wheeling her away into the small-town hospital.

  I don’t trust him. I don’t trust any of them. I consider grabbing this man’s arm and twisting him to the ground so that I can follow Helen’s stretcher. But the kindly look in his eyes stops me from doing anything rash.

  “Just take a seat in the waiting room, and we’ll be sure to update you on her condition soon.”

  “I’m a doctor,” I inform him quietly. “Maybe there’s something I can do...”

  “Wait,” he tells me in a heavy voice. “Just hope for the best and wait.”

  “Is she—is she going to be okay?” I ask him.

  He hesitates. “I don’t know. I’ve seen worse. On these icy mountain roads? It happens every day. It’s been a really rough winter. Just take my advice and steal a moment to relax. Take care of your dog; the poor thing’s shaking like a leaf. There’s a motel across the street, but the rooms fill up quickly. Grab one and get comfortable, because this could take a while.” With that, the paramedic disappears back into the hospital.

  This is what comes from wanting everything.

  You end up losing everything.

  Lifting both of my hands to run them through my hair, I draw a shuddering breath. Snowball whimpers softly, and I can tell that the poor dog is scared out of her mind. “Come on, girl,” I tell her, gesturing to the car. “Let’s get you to that cozy hotel room. You’re probably freezing. Want to get warmed up?”

  Snowball looks at me suspiciously for a moment, as if I am a stranger seducing her into my car for nefarious reasons. She glances back toward the hospital where Helen has been wheeled away, before letting out a mournful howl. Finally, with her ears hanging downward in defeat, she softly pads toward the vehicle and climbs in.

 
Sighing, I move back around the car to the driver’s side. Before entering the car, I find myself taking a moment to lean against the door and breathe the crisp morning air. It is a bright and sunny day, and the careless wisps of clouds in the sky seem utterly oblivious to my tragedy.

  For a moment, I am filled with the urge to ask someone for help. A higher power, the universe, or any sick and twisted being that might have some control over my fate.

  Please, I say inwardly, to anyone who will listen. Please let her live.

  My father’s voice immediately replies to me, like an ancient lullaby:

  God ain’t got time to listen to a worthless little piece of shit like you. Be a fucking man, Liam, and do what needs to be done with your own two hands. They say God helps those who help themselves—but he ain’t never lifted a finger to help me with jack shit in thirty years. He sure as hell won’t notice that you’re even on this fucking planet. So who you gonna count on? God? Or your own damn self?

  As much as I hate to admit it, my old man was right. Everything I've accomplished in life has been due to my own hard work and diligence. I've never been a lucky person. I got into this mess because I was asking Helen's father for a favor. I was asking him to vouch for me, and to help me get ahead based on his name and influence, not on the fruits of my own labor. I tried to take a short cut, and this is where it's taken us.

  I’ve hurt Helen so badly that I might lose her.

  Now, what can I do? The situation is completely out of my hands. I could dig my way into the operating room and keep an eye on the other doctors to make sure they're doing a good job. I could bark out orders and try to take over if they seem to be doing something even slightly less than perfect. But I don't even know how to deal with brain injuries. I couldn't help her with my own two hands even if I tried.

  Sometimes in life, we are simply forced to depend on other people. Even doctors need other doctors. And it makes me fucking miserable.

  All I can do is wait. And hope. And pray.

  All three of these things are about as effective as farts in the wind.

  Reaching down to my pocket with a shaking hand, I retrieve my phone. I still have the app pulled up that I used to trace Snowball's dog collar and find Helen at all. Now, since Snowball is in the car with me, there is a big red dot in the center of the screen and an icon which depicts a smiling puppy with a wagging tongue. You have found your dog! the app informs me. The adorable color scheme makes me feel a little sick.

  Navigating away from this screen, I move to my favorites and begin to dial the top contact without a second thought. I place the phone against my ear, desperate to hear the voice of my best friend. My only friend.

  “Owen, here!” says the sleepy voice. “What's shaking, Liamnator?”

  “It's Winter,” I whisper with an unsteady voice. “She's been in a car accident out in Pennsylvania.”

  “What?!” Owen responds with concern. “Is she okay? Dammit! I should have told you that she was leaving sooner. And her eyes...”

  “You knew she was leaving?” I ask him hoarsely.

  “Yeah. I ran into her yesterday—literally. She overheard your conversation with her father, and made me promise not to tell you for twenty-four hours so that she would have a chance to disappear.”

  “Fuck you, Owen!” I hiss angrily. “Whose side are you on? I thought that you were supposed to be my friend, but then you fail to inform me that my girlfriend is leaving me? For good? And that she's having serious health issues while trying to do so?”

  “God, man. You're right, I should have said something. This is my fault. But I'm Winter's friend too! I didn't want to betray her. I mean, haven't I already lied to her enough for you? I like the little lady, and I didn't want her to hate me for being a tattle-tale.”

  “A tattle-tale? Owen, are you three years old? For god's sake—she was losing her vision! You shouldn't have let her drive like that.”

  “What the hell could I have done to stop a girl like that on a mission? I recommended that she not get behind the wheel, but I wasn't going to call the cops on her or something.”

  “You could have called me!” I tell him furiously. “You should have told me that she was trying to leave me. You should have told me she was losing her vision. You should have fucking told me that my girlfriend was an emotional wreck.”

  “And then maybe she wouldn't have been in a physical wreck?” Owen jokes. Then he clears his throat. “Sorry.”

  I close my eyes briefly, overwhelmed with a combination of anger and despair. “Just do me a favor, Owen. One thing. Can you even do one thing right? Take over my shift at work later. And talk to our boss and explain the situation. I might need to stay here for a few days to take care of Winter.” I pause, and a sadistic smile covers my features. “Unless she doesn't make it, in which case I suppose I will be expected to return to work almost immediately.”

  “Liam...” Owen begins softly. “Look, man. I'm sorry. But she's going to pull through, and you're going to be fine. You two belong together.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I snap at him. I know he's just trying to be reassuring and nice, and I want to believe him so badly that it hurts. “You don't know the extent of her injuries. How can you be sure she's going to pull through?”

  “Because she's a tough little lady with nerves of steel and a head so thick that it must be made from granite. I don't know how badly she's been hurt, but I know our Winter. I think that she could get into a fistfight with an elephant and somehow come out on top. Don't ever underestimate writers, man. They’re creative sons of bitches!”

  The smallest hint of a smile touches the corner of my lips. “Thanks, man,” I tell him softly.

  “No probs. Text me the hospital address, Liam. I'm coming over.”

  “Owen, you don't have to...”

  “She's my friend, too. And I don't want you to be alone right now.”

  The line goes dead. I exhale in a combination of relief and gratitude. Sometimes, I have no idea what I would do without Owen. Turning around, I grasp the handle of my car and climb inside. Snowball yips at me in annoyance at being left alone for so long. She moves closer to me and shoves her wet nose against my wrist, demanding that I pet her. I immediately comply, and let my hand drift gently over the little dog's white fur. She looks so dirty, wet, and sad compared to the way she normally looks in New York. I wonder if this whole misadventure has been a little too much for her.

  It's been too much for me.

  Starting my car to get some heat in the vehicle, I reach over to turn the seat warmers back on. My hope is that the warmth will help to comfort Snowball and make her feel less anxious and afraid. She settles down on the leather cushion with a whimper, and I reach to the side to stroke her fur with one hand as I attach my seat belt with the other.

  “Looks like I've got one final phone call to make, girl,” I tell her softly. “I've got to tell Helen's family what happened. Especially her asshole of a father.” Sitting back in the driver's seat, I mentally prepare for this conversation. I know that the Winters family is dealing with another tragedy at the moment. Before Helen crashed, she managed to explain to me that she had stopped by her home. The visit must have had a profound effect on her psychotic brother-in-law, because the bastard hung himself.

  It wasn’t just me that upset her. It was also him. Not that this is any consolation.

  I have despised Grayson from the moment I met him, but there is no use in feeling hatred any longer. He’s gone. He’s no longer a threat to us.

  But he certainly caused enough damage while he was still around.

  I have a bad feeling he will continue to cause damage long after he’s gone. A man like that is a menace to society, and only leaves behind a legacy of pain.

  I know that Helen's sister loved her husband. I know that Mr. Winters adored Grayson as a son-in-law. I know that the family has already suffered a great blow at his loss, in addition to their previous losses, and I don't know how to te
ll them about this additional heartache. I am staring down at the phone in my hand and trying to gather the courage to make the phone call when a hospital staff member taps on the glass window of my car. I reach for the door to press the button to lower the glass.

  “You're the one who brought in the young woman in her 20s? Please come inside so that we can ask you some questions. The patient is in critical condition and she might not have much longer to live. We need to notify her next of kin.”

  A lump of fear forms in my throat. “Okay,” I tell the nurse, turning off my car and stepping out of the vehicle. I shut the door and walk briskly toward the hospital entrance. “What can you tell me about her condition?”

  “Actually, you're not allowed to park your car here. It blocks the emergency—”

  “I don't fucking care. How is my girlfriend?”

  The nurse gives me a sympathetic look. “Come with me.”

  Chapter Four

  Sitting with my head in my hands in the hospital waiting room, I try to gather enough courage to call Helen’s father. What will I say to him? How can I tell him what has happened to his daughter? As I mull over these thoughts, it occurs to me that it’s partly his fault. It’s his fault just as much as it is mine.

  I know that the old man is probably going to blame himself, but I am having trouble caring. Part of me despises him a little for the way he has manipulated me over the past few months.

  At the same time, he is still Helen's father. I know that he did everything he did out of love for her. I know that the poor man lost his wife, and that he is only trying to do everything in his power to avoid losing his daughters as well. I suppose I understand his situation, because it was ironically the very actions that he took to keep Helen close that ended up pushing her away in the end. It is those very actions that could have potentially ended her life, in a very similar manner to the way her mother's life ended.

  The poor old fool. I don't know what I'm going to tell him. In some ways, he reminds me of my own father. Prickly and cruel on the surface, but with a good heart at his very core. I know that my father only pushed me so hard because he wanted what was best for me. I know that he didn't really understand the damage that he caused me over the years.