Page 11

Alexander

T hey’re all standing around.

My father, my mother, the doctor, and to my surprise, Rafferty too.

I throw him a glare as I stalk across the room.

I don’t know why he keeps showing up here anyway. It’s not like he doesn’t have his own home, and it’s not like he hasn’t made it clear where his loyalties lie.

Our mother makes some comments about retiring for the evening, and she gives me a gentle hug before leaving us to it. I know this is all exhausting for her too. She’s as caught up in this drama as we are.

It’s why I let her comments slide, why I don’t lose my temper with her when she wants to deviate from the plan.

She’s been through enough, suffered enough, she deserves some leeway. She also deserves some damn comfort in her old age.

Once she’s gone, I turn my attention back to my brother but the way he stands, the way he folds his arms tells me he’s not going anywhere.

Has he had a change of heart? Does he actually want to help now? Well, it’s too bloody late. Far too bloody late.

“How is she?” The doctor asks.

I shrug. “Worse than yesterday, but better than the day before.” It’s pretty much the same thing I said last time he came.

She spirals. She suddenly rallies, becomes a functional, coherent person, and then it’s like her brain snaps.

She turns frantic, manic. She starts fighting, and there’s no reasoning with her.

He nods, “Well, it’s to be expected. I did tell you the medicine has side-effects.”

“Is there anything else she can take?” My father asks. “Anything to stop her being so damned combative all the time?”

“What’s the matter dad, I thought you liked them feisty?” Rafferty says in a low, pissed off voice, but we all hear it.

“If you don’t want to get onboard with the program then you can fuck off.” I snap, jabbing my thumb to the door. I’m past caring about niceties. I’m past caring about my brother at all. As far as I’m concerned, he can fuck off.

It’s alright for him. He comes and goes as he pleases. He has zero responsibilities beyond his own dubious business activities. But us, the rest of the family, we’re here, stuck in what was our home, watching it slowly turn into the scene of a horror movie.

The doctor looks between us before deciding to act like he didn’t hear my brother’s words. “There isn’t much. She’s already on the maximum dosage.”

“The paranoia is out of control. Every other day she tries to escape.” I state.

He pulls a face. “Like I said, it’s to be expected…”

“We don’t pay you a small fortune to come here and just waste our time.” My father growls. “If you can’t fix this then perhaps we need to find a doctor who will.”

“I doubt you’ll find anyone willing to cooperate with you on this.” The doctor smirks. “Considering the ethical implications…”

“All things you were more than happy with ignoring, considering the way you wanted payment.” I cut in. No fucking way he gets to play the moral high ground now. That ship sailed a long time ago, and he was more than happy to be onboard then.

He huffs, drawing himself up. “How about I talk with her? Reassure her. Convince her that she really is ill and that being here is the best place for her?”

That could work. That could be enough. I glance at my father and he pulls a face like he thinks that could solve it.

“Fuck this.” Rafferty says, shaking his head. “You’re just as bad as they are. The three of you are fucked in the head.”

“Rafe.” Our father snaps.

Only, he doesn’t stay to listen. He just storms out, following that same path down the hallway and I wonder if he’s off to try and convince our mother that this whole situation is out of control.

“He doesn’t like it, I take it?” The doctor says with the hint of a sneer to his voice.

“Rafe has always been…”

“An arsehole.” I cut across my father.

“He’s got different priorities.” My father states, as if that justifies it. As if that makes his disloyalty acceptable.

The doctor grunts. “Is he not a risk, knowing what he knows?”

“Rafferty will keep his mouth shut.” I reply. Because if he doesn’t, then I will silence him. I’ll have no choice.

My father shifts and that movement proves how conflicted he feels.

Rafferty is his precious baby boy. I may be the heir but he coddled Rafferty, gave him far greater freedoms than I had.

And look at the result. Look how he turned out.

He’s a liability. He dresses like a gang member, he rides that damned motorbike everywhere, as if he’s some member of Hells Angels and not the second son of one of the richest men in the country. It’s a fucking joke.

“Fine.” The doctor says, “Shall I go see your wife?”

“She’s resting now, so the conversation will have to wait until morning.” I state.

He nods, following me as I go to leave. My father is right behind us, hot on my heels.

We climb the stairs in silence.

And when we get to her room, I open the door and see that she’s still there, tucked up in bed, and hasn’t moved a muscle.

“When did you give her the sedative?” The doctor asks, peering in.

I glance at my watch to check, “About an hour ago.”

He smiles, nodding, “So she’ll be completely out of it by now.”

“That’s the hope.” My father says behind me.

The doctor strolls in, easing off his jacket, and lays it over the chair. Delicately he pulls the covers back, revealing the pretty nightdress as well as her frail body. Thankfully the purple tinge is all gone and she’s back to a healthy colour.

“We’ll leave you to it.” I say as he leans right over her.

Silently, I shut the door.

“We’ll give him an hour.” My father says, as if he’s the one in charge here, as if my wife belongs solely to him.

“Let’s get a drink.” I sigh, because god knows I damn well need one right now.