Right Place Wrong Time

chapter 18

*Jacob POV*

We lay side by side, staring at the ceiling as our chests rose and fell in perfect synchronisation with our exhausted breaths. I hadn’t seen Tia this happy before, she was glowing – I’d like to think that some of that was down to my recent efforts in bed, but I think the majority is down to the dune buggies. No hard feelings.

She pushed herself up on one elbow, hearing her phone buzz on my bedside table; she hovered close to my side as I stole gentle pecks up the length of her neck.

“hello.” She said absent mindedly, her fingers playfully twirling strands of my hair and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her cheeky smile gradually dropped and her hand now held onto my hair for stability more than anything else, “yes, of course, I’ll be there as soon as I can… yeah… bye.”

She silently leapt out of bed and pulled her underwear and jeans back over her hips; she grabbed a sweatshirt from the floor of my room and started stuffing her feet into her plimsolls.

“Tia, what is it?” I asked, breaking the silence, “who was on the phone?”

“It’s Matt,” her voice wobbled as she forced out the end of her sentence, “he’s in hospital. I have to go.”

“Ok, well give me a minute and I’ll drive you down there.” I offered, stepping out of bed.

“No, I have to go.”

With that she ran out of the room, I heard the slam of doors followed by the rev of the engine as she sped out of my house and away to the hospital. To Matt. I guess a part of me always knew that whatever Tia and I had was temporary; it would last until she brought herself to forgive him, and then she would leave me. I thought I was prepared for her to go, but I suppose I thought she’d at least consider staying instead of running back to him as if it were a reflex action.

 

*TIA POV*

I ran down the white corridors of the hospital until I reached a reception desk.

“I’m looking for Matthew Green.” I panted. Before the lady could answer I saw Grace’s frail body pacing backwards and forwards across the corridor, “Grace!”

“Oh Tia, I’m so glad you’re here.” She sobbed, wrapping her small arms around my waist.

“Are you ok?” I asked hurriedly, “what’s happened?”

“He got into a fight with his Dad,” grace whispered, her voice almost inaudible.

A girl appeared behind grace, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and allowing grace a shoulder to rest her head on.

 “It’s ok mum.” The girl hushed, “go and sit down, I can explain.”

Mum? I had never seen this girl before, not even a picture. I was starting to wander why Matt had never mentioned a sister; but then it clicked.

“Millie?” I questioned. She nodded silently and ushered me towards the chairs at the side of the corridor, “but Matt said you…”

“Ran away?” she finished, “yeah, I did. But I decided to try and see Matt again. He was the main reason I didn’t want to leave in the first place, but I knew mum would need him more than I did.”

I couldn’t help but notice how much like Matt she was, yeah they were siblings but it’s more than that, the connection they must have had was evident in the way she spoke about him, the same regret flashing through her eyes as she recalled the past.

“So why is he in there?” I said, trying, and failing, to stop my voice from cracking.

“I called matt from the train on the way back, he said dad was out so I could come to the house safely.” Her voice lowered slightly, “we sat and chatted, he, mum and I, it was just like before.”

“But?”

“But then dad came home.” I could hear the fear in her voice, the same fear that reeked through my brain the day I had encountered Matt’s dad, “he was angry. Really angry. He was shouting abuse at me and mum so Matt forced him outside, mum locked her and me in the house on Matt’s instruction, we stayed silent and just listened to them fighting.”

Her voice trembled as she wiped a tear from her face. I rested my hand on hers and she held it tightly.

“Then we heard the smash of a beer bottle and a horrible sound. I followed mum as she ran outside. By the time I reached her, she was collapsed over Matthew’s body at the bottom of the steps; there was a puddle of blood surrounding his head. I saw Dad standing beside me, a broken beer bottle held as some kind of sick trophy.”

I held her close as she wept into my jumper; I tried to calm my chest to hide my own sobs. I stood up and turned to look through the window of Matt’s hospital room, he lay motionless on the bed, wires attached to what appeared to be every part of his body. His chest rose and fell robotically, controlled by the beeping monitor beside his head. His face and arms were covered in bruising and a white bandage adorned his head. I stopped breathing, I felt sick to the bottom of my stomach. I was angry and confused.

I was scared.