Chapitre 9: Chapter 8
" Ow! That hurts!"
" If you held still, it wouldn't hurt as much!"
" Well, if you hadn't run away, none of this would have happened."
" Well, if you hadn't frightened me then I wouldn't have run away."
" Well, you shouldn't have been in the west wing."
" Well, you should learn to control your temper!" ~ Belle and the Beast (2017)
Scott
" Now, what the hell were you doing, Scott?! You could've died," Spencer yelled at me.
I looked to Francesca again and kept my face as stoic as possible. I had let my guard down a few seconds ago, but she would never see that side of me again.
"Emotions are to be shown to no one because they will only exploit them," is what my father always said.
" Leave," I said flatly.
Francesca looked taken back, but she turned around and left the room pretty quickly. Spencer shook his head and sighed most likely wondering why I am the way I am.
" Since Francesca came to live with me, I have been overwhelmed with memories of Claire. I had it under control for a while, but then I didn't. The other day, I got a call from Jasper Thatch...my father's men were poking around his shop again; he was really freaking out. I couldn't handle it. Everything from that night came rushing back and I needed something...anything to numb the pain. I started drinking again and I guess, I never stopped," I said.
" Scott, I thought you had figured this out? Paid off all of your father's men to leave Jasper alone and to pretend that they didn't even know he existed. What happened?" Spencer asked.
" I thought I had too. My marriage to Francesca must be making my father nervous. Anything coming out about Claire now would cause him some real problems for him," I replied.
" I would assume so. You get married and then it comes out that you were engaged once before and that your fiance was killed by her future father-in-law. I don't think murder is a very good thing on his track record," Spencer said with venom in his voice. I shivered at his words, knowing that every word he said was true and the pain came throbbing back at the mention of Claire. His disgust for my father was almost equal to mine, but he didn't know half of what it was like growing up with somebody like him.
My mother was an amazing woman. She loved, cared, and looked after me when I was a child. I remember the way she used to look at me and say that there was no one else she had ever loved as much as she loved me. We did everything together and I am almost an exact copy of her, aside from my hair color which I got from my father. But after my mother died, my father was left as my sole guardian and that all changed. He didn't abuse me in any physical way, but he gave me no love. He ignored me most of the time and when he would notice my presence, he would push me away or yell at me. I had a revolving door of nannies that I would scare off eventually because I didn't want any of them around. I wanted my mom back...but as I got older I realized that would never happen and my father gave up on trying to find someone to look after me. From the age of ten, I was left in my house alone. There were staff, but they were told to leave me alone because if I didn't want a nanny, nobody would look after me.
The first time that my father had ever taken notice of me was when I turned eighteen and he had started preparations for me to go to law school. I had just graduated from preparatory school and he was home when I got in after school. He handed me packets for all the law schools in the UK and told me to fill them all out. No questions were asked if that was even what I wanted to do with my life. He just handed me the things and told me that was what I was going to do. The next day they were mailed out to the schools and soon enough I got acceptance letters. Everybody wanted to have Jackson go to their school because that would be a person to bring an inflow of new students. The reputation of my family's name stretched far beyond the quaint town of Wick. Most of the UK knew my name and what my family was capable of. The next fall I went away to school not even a goodbye or good luck from him. I wanted so bad to make him proud of me, to have any emotion towards me at all, that I became more like him. I washed away anything that my mother had taught me or given me and I became angry. I was vile and vain, for I cared only for myself and I showed only my anger in the courtroom. All through law school, I was said to be aggressive in court. I was relentless in the mock trials I didn't give up until I won the case or I could go back and declare a mistrial.
" That definitely would cause him to lose a few clients," I snapped.
" That's for sure," he replied.
" What I am going to do, Spencer? I can't feel like this anymore. I can't go through everyday feeling like somebody has shot me in the chest, leaving a big gaping hole. How am I suppose to fix this?" I asked pleadingly.
"Only time can heal this kind of wound. As for your father...you aren't going to do anything. You are going to focus on getting better and leave his meddling to me," he started. "I know that you don't want to hear this and will probably yell at me for this later, but you have to let yourself feel. Keeping all that pain and grief inside is killing you, Scott. I haven't seen you shed one tear for her since she died and I can't even begin to comprehend what you must be feeling inside, but you have to let her go. Open yourself up to the possibility of finding happiness again. On finding love again. I know that Claire would never want to see you like this because of her," he finished.
I turned away from him and I knew in my heart that he was right, but I couldn't. I would never let anyone in again because that means that I could lose them. That my father could do the same to them that he has done to everyone other then Spencer...disposed of them. I wouldn't let him do that to another person. Letting go also meant having to accept that she is gone and the role that I played in death, but…I couldn't.
I heard him sigh heavily and sit back down in his chair. Pulling himself closer to my bed with a loud screech against the floor. We sat in silence for quite a while after that, me with my back towards him and his eyes staring a hole in my back. Vivian came in and checked on me now that I was awake, but soon she too left the room. Francesca returned with some food for Spencer and a bag that held some clothes for both of us. While he showered and changed into clean clothes, she sat in his seat keeping a watchful eye on me. But even after he returned, she stayed. When I was taken to get a follow-up CT scan, she followed behind Vivian discussing my release forms and what would be needed to be done as home care. I didn't so much as utter a word throughout my whole release, even when I was in the car with Spencer and Francesca. I couldn't come up with anything to say. I had really taken what Spencer had said to heart; I couldn't come with any rebuttal. I wanted to contradict him and say that he didn't know what was going on with me, but he had summed up everything I was feeling almost completely accurately. He read me like an open book and I hated that he knew me so well. That I didn't really even have to say what I was feeling; he just knew.
Spencer helped me walk into the house; Francesca following behind us carrying our bag. We walked up the stairs to my room and she still followed. She set it down near the door and left quietly, while Spence put me down in my bed and sat down on the end.
" Ok, so Francesca put the household staff out on leave for the next two weeks so that you can heal in peace, without any possibility of your father finding out that any of this happened. I have one of our trusted past clients cleaning up and fixing the remnants of your study. But we have run into a small problem...I have to go to America in your place for the Richardson, McCarthy case and the St. Jude Charity Ball," he said and I sat up a little straighter.
" So, what is the problem?" I asked.
" Vivian and Alfred will be coming with me so...Francesca will have to look after you while we're gone," he said.
" No. I will take care of myself if there is no other option," I said leaving no room for questioning, but I forgot that this was Spencer I was talking to.
" That is not an option, Scott! You can barely walk around by yourself right now and Vivian says that you will need help cleaning the cut on your face and that you shouldn't be doing any strenuous activities. We already discussed the matter and Francesca has already agreed to help you do the things that you can't right now. You either accept Francesca's help or we take you back to the hospital so they can call your dad. Which would you prefer?" he snapped.
" Neither! I don't want either of them near me. Why can't we just delay the trial?" I asked.
"Do you really want to give her lawyers more to time to build a case against us?" he replied.
" Fine," I said and rolled over so he was once again staring at my back.
" One day, Scott, I hope that you can stop acting like a child and realize that I do the things I do because I care about you," Spencer said as he walked out of my room, slamming the door behind him.
I rolled to lay on my back and took in a sharp breath; my bruised ribs protesting from the movement. Breathing felt like somebody was punching me in the chest, but Vivian said that I needed to try my best to take deep breaths or I could develop pneumonia. The temperature of the room wasn't helping. It felt like I was sitting in a freezer.
I understood that Spencer was trying to help me and that he meant the best, but I can't be around her. Her mannerisms from when she's been scared or sad have started to replace my memories of Claire's. Since Claire's death, the only things that I have to remember her by is a crumpled picture and the memories. Now Francesca comes in and I can't remember what Claire would like when she was frightened or when she was sad; all I see is Francesca and it's infuriating. As is my yearning to know what Francesca's laugh sounds like or what her smile looks like…she makes me want to scream and I can't explain any of it. I can't understand why I wanted to apologize, which I never do, to her the day after I terrified her in the library. Or why she made me feel guilty about the way I treated others and the person that I had become.
I rubbed my face, being careful to avoid my stitches, and sighed in frustration. I sat up slowly in my bed and grabbed the TV remote; turning it on to drown out the silence of my empty room. The silence allowed for my mind to tread too far and I didn't want that because the further back I think, the more pain I would cause. I moved back into my propped up pillows and pulled my comforter over my shivering form. Sometime later after being entranced by How to Train your Dragon, the movie I had flipped to when I turned to TV on, I fell asleep.
The next thing I knew, the loud ending credits music was playing and the network was alerting me that the second one would be next. My body had fallen slightly to its side and I quickly righted myself getting rid of the dull ache in my ribs. I glanced over at the clock that I kept on my nightstand and it read 7:45 pm. Then my stomach started growling and I realized that I hadn't eaten real food in I don't know how long. Also, on my nightstand was a plastic package with a new phone inside and a note attached to the side. I grabbed the package, pulled the sticky note off, and read it.
I programmed mine, Vivian's, and Francesca's numbers on the phone. Call us if there are any emergencies and PLEASE be nice to Francesca.
~ Spencer
Of course, he would need to remind me of that. I took the phone out of the already opened package and looked it over. It was a cheap, quick option that I would probably change later, but it would work for now. I sat up against my headboard and started thinking about how I was going to get to the kitchen for food. After a few minutes of thought, I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and braced my arms beside me. I put my feet on the ground and took a deep breath preparing myself for the incoming pain. I pushed onto my feet and took in a sharp breath. My ribs throbbed with a burning pain that made it even harder for me to breathe. I made my first few steps tentatively while holding onto the edge of my bed until I couldn't hold onto anything. I was trembling and wobbling on my uneasy feet; my balance was all over the place and sweat was beading up on my forehead from the effort of keeping myself on my feet. The world around me was spinning and a sudden nauseous feeling overtook me, but I swallowed it and forced myself to keep moving.
I was in the hallway when my head started to pound and my vision began to blur. I leaned carefully on the wall, closing my eyes waiting for the blur to pass. When it did, I kept going. I walked down the short hallway and stared down the stairs. They were a daunting task, but I was going to do this by myself to prove to Spencer that I don't need anyone to take care of me. I grabbed onto the railing tightly and looked down at my feet. I slowly lead with my right foot going onto the first stair down and then my left. A wave of vertigo crashed over me and I bit the inside of my cheek to ease nausea. I debated giving up here and just sitting down till someone found my hunched body, but that would show that I am weak. I can't let her see that I am weak that this has affected me more than she already knows. I took a deep breath, wiped the sweat off my forehead, and put my right foot down another step. I got down another four steps before I felt my feet go out from under me. My eyes shut and a gasp came quickly from my mouth. I fell forward and collided with a willowy form that smelled faintly like lavender. For a moment, it was peaceful just being held by someone with no ulterior reason, but when I opened my eyes and saw who it was that moment was gone.
" Scott...What are you doing? You could've killed yourself!" Francesca yelled in my face.
" Trying to get some food," I grumbled softly.
" That's what a phone is for Scott. Spencer said he told you that I would be looking after you and that he programmed my number into your phone," she said.
" I don't need your help," I said sharply. The way that I had fallen on her was now making my ribs hurt.
She shook her head and then threw my arm over her shoulder. She dragged my tired, quivering legs slowly up the stairs and put me back in bed. She went into my bathroom and returned with bottles of pills and a first aid kit. She pulled my desk chair next to me and sat down spreading all the medical equipment on the nightstand beside her. When she went towards the bandage on my face, I grabbed her wrist to stop her.
" Leave me alone. I said I don't need your help. I'll call someone else to help me," I said as I stared hatefully into her eyes, but she surprised me. Staring back into my eyes with an intensity I had yet to see from her.
" I am the only one here, Scott! I am here and I am trying to help you despite the way you've treated me. And guess what, I cared that you could've died. That your life could've ended that day and nobody would've given it a second thought because you don't let anyone in! You push away anyone that ever tries to help you or cares for you in any way. Do you wanna know something?! I helped Spencer carry your body to his car. I sat in the waiting room for six hours for any word about if you were going to survive or not. I sat by your side till you woke up so Spencer had someone. And I cried because you don't deserve to die alone! But I guess I was stupid to think that you would maybe even the slightest bit grateful. So yes! You win! I will leave you alone because I can't take much more of this," she yelled as she stood from her chair and went for the door.
I grabbed her wrist before she got too far away and she turned to look at me.
" You shouldn't care so much. I don't deserve it," I respond.
She shook her wrist free from my grasp and sits back down.
" Everyone deserves to be cared about. Now please let me help you...If I don't clean your stitches they will get infected and I need to make sure that your ribs stayed taped," she said pleadingly.
I closed my eyes and nodded my head yes. I heard her sigh and then she took my bandage off my face; I winched a little at the sting of medical tape being ripped off my face. I opened my eyes and watched what she was doing. She took out sterile cotton from its package and poured some rubbing alcohol on it.
" This may hurt," she said then she placed the cotton against my stitches.
I winched a little bit, but overall it wasn't too bad. The pain in my ribs far overwhelmed that small sting. After it was thoroughly cleaned, she put some cream on it and rebandaged it.
" Can you sit up on the edge of your bed?" she asked softly. I moved to the edge of the bed and sat there awaiting my next instruction.
" I have to retape your ribs, so please take off your shirt," she said. I carefully took off my shirt, avoiding most of the pain.
She gasped a little at the unsightly look of my ribs and I was surprised as well, I hadn't gotten a real good look at them since I woke up. There was a smattering of red, purple, and black in unpatterned blotches that spread from my left pec to my hip. There was thick, white going across the middle of the bruises and diagonally across the whole area. Taking off all the tape was pure torture. Francesca had to brace her hands on the side of my body, so she could grab the tape and it pulled my skin off the ribs. That was the hard part though. She breezed past putting the tape back on and helping me back into my shirt.
" Now what would you like to eat? I will bring it to you so you can stay in bed and rest," she said standing from the chair.
" Whatever is fine," I said. She sighed and cleaned up all the trash and then left my room in silence.
A while later she came with a bowl of something that smelled delicious. She placed it on my nightstand along with a spoon and a glass of water.
" Make sure you take your pills after you eat. Now...is there anything else I can get for the night?" she asked. I shook my head no and she left me alone again.
Whatever Francesca had made me was delicious and I ate it quickly now noticing how hungry I really was. I took my pills then sank back down into my pillows hopefully to go back to sleep and I did. I dozed off pretty quickly after that and it was unusually peaceful for me. But the sound of my door creaking open slightly woke me up.
" Yeah, he is asleep now Spencer...Yes, I did everything that Vivian and the other doctors told I needed to....you have to give me something, he told me that he didn't deserve to be cared about...That's not ok! What could've possibly hurt him that bad that he would think...I know why you wanted me to watch him now," Francesca whispered just outside my door and I could the murmuring of Spencer's voice from the other side. I listened to every word of their conversation, I could make out until I couldn't hear her anymore. Leaving me with one thought racing through my mind...Why did she care so much?
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone