Wild Bastard by Ella Savitskaya (most popular ebook readers .txt) 📗

36

The bright deserted corridor is morally depressing. I can see Lana behind the clear glass on the perfectly white couch. She is sleeping under a drip of absorbent substance, as the doctor explained to us. A tall, stately man in a white coat came up as soon as he heard about Matthew's arrival. He seemed to be the Kahlon's family doctor, for they communicated quite closely.

Dr. Lemeshev explained to us that the girl's life was not in danger. Laura saw her fall, hurried after Lucas, and while the frightened brother was rushing to the pool, she called an ambulance. When they arrived, Lana was already conscious, but they still took her away for tests and examination. Obviously, she was drunk, but they had to find out if she was under the influence of drugs.

As we drove down the highway, I realized for the first time what it was like to be afraid for someone else's life. The fear was so strong that it literally covered my insides with an icy crust. Matthew was silent the whole way. He just looked ahead, twisting the steering wheel sharply in the corners. His tension was transmitted to me in invisible waves, and I understood why. Everything was scarier for him than for me. This was the second time he'd experienced such a condition. The guy's eyes glazed over, his body turned to granite. He looked more like a machine than a living person.

The feeling of loss has always been foreign to me. Children at the boarding school came and went. With those with whom we shared toys, our connection was severed a few years ago.

Vikky... She's a friend. But she's not family. And for Matthew, Lana is his blood. Today for the first time since we met, I saw genuine fear in his eyes. At the moment when he was told about what happened, this emotion could not hide under the mask of eternal bravado.

The bastard loves the girl. He loves her, even though he has erected reinforced concrete walls around himself. All his life he has been waiting for a repeat of what happened to Evelyn, and this pain keeps him from letting his little sister come closer. But aren't we the ones who drove her to this point now?

The girl could not bear the burden of betrayal on my part and indifference on his. A supposed indifference.

"Matt? Lucas?" The doctor's voice echoes down the corridor, where we sit, waiting for the verdict.

Matthew is tossed out of his seat, Lucas follows him. I get up, too.

"Well, Matthew, there are no narcotic substances in the blood. The tests are relatively good. Fortunately, she didn't swallow much water. You got there just in time, Lucas." The man looks at the guy, who now looks more like a walking corpse. "If your maid hadn't noticed her fall, everything could have ended much worse. And we don't know whether she fell by accident or on purpose.... "

He doesn't need to finish to make us understand the horrifying picture of the possible outcome. Painful shivers run down my spine when I imagine that the trusting girl would suddenly be gone. I'd probably spend the rest of my life blaming myself.

"May I see her?" Matthew's voice hardly sounds like his own.

"Sure. You even can go home, and you can pick her up tomorrow"

Abruptly shaking his head, Matthew squeezes brother's shoulder.

"He will go. I'll stay."

"As you say, if you need anything, you know how to call me. The nurse will do all the necessary procedures herself."

The doctor leaves.

"Call a cab, Luc."

Desolation and wild fatigue. That is how one might describe Matthew's appearance now. He rubs the bridge of his nose exhaustedly. Lucas doesn't even think about contradicting him. As I understand it, everyone in their family does what Matthew says. But right now there's really nothing for the two of them to do in the hospital. Neither do I. I guess I should have been relieved that Lana is okay, and I was, once I found out she wasn't in any danger. But only for a little while. The emptiness inside is growing so fast that it's getting harder and harder to deal with.

While the guys are exchanging phrases, I take one last look at the peacefully sleeping girl and turn around to head for the exit.

"Reenah! Where are you going?"

Matthew's voice stops me.

"Home."

I turn around and meet his eyes. Lucas walks past me, nodding goodbye.

"Where do you live now? I'll pick you up tomorrow."

With a few steps Matthew shortens the distance between us. I desperately want to smooth a wrinkle in his forehead, but with a titanic effort I have to restrain myself.

"There is no need. I will move out of there soon."

"Come live with us."

I grin bitterly.

"I think it is impossible."

"Why not?"

"Do you know why Lana got drunk?" A wide eyebrow goes up questioningly. "Because of us. I promised her once that I wouldn't choose you over her. That I wouldn't be one of those available girls who, after they became friends with her, spread their legs for you and left, because you didn't want them in the end. And..." I shrug, admitting defeat and letting him figure it out for himself. The bitterness burns the tip of my tongue.

Matthew frowns. He ponders my words for long seconds, then nervously runs his fingers through his hair and stares on Lana through the glass.

"Bullshit" He exhales. "She won't even be asked" He turns his head toward me. " Reenah, she'll have to accept that we're together."

"No, Matthew. We're not together. Until you sort out all the chaos in your life, and most importantly, inside yourself, we can't be together. That happened…" I point my finger at the teenager on the other side of the glass. "Because of us. Because of you. If you hadn't treated Lana like a stranger, this never would have happened. Get that through your head. I didn't have any family. I didn't know what it was like to come home and share an intimate moment with a sister or a brother. To sniff the smell of my mother's dinner fries, or to crinkle my nose at the scent of my father's tobacco. And you know what the worst part is? Lana can't do it all either. She has a father and two brothers. Two" I fold my fingers into the number two, as if words aren't enough. "But she's actually lonely. She doesn't need your tutelage. She needs to make mistakes on her own experience, and then if some asshole happens to hurt her, she'll come to you and complain. And then you can punch a suicide bomber in the face. After. After she's gained experience from betrayals and begins to distinguish between white and black. She lent me money after two weeks of knowing me. Do you understand? She gave a stranger all her pocket money just to buy her friendship. "

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