Forced (1st book in The Forced Series)

Forty Four

Forty Four

The days that followed were the worst. Hazel was under observation -meaning only one person could see her, and only for a couple of minutes-, and she didn't seem to be improving. The first few days she seemed fine. Except for the headache she complained of. But then it got bad.

Hazel, sometimes, couldn't recognize Van. She knew that she knew him, and that he wouldn't hurt her, but she didn't know who he was. Not his name, age or anything else for that matter. At those times, she was noticeably quieter, and flinched away from him. Van didn't understand, but the psychologist the hospital assigned to her reassured him that persons who were in similar situations as hers often become reclusive.

Reclusive, he could handle. After all, that one word summed Hazel up in a nutshell. But then she started screaming whenever he got near her. The doctors ran tests after test, trying to figure out what it was that was tripping her memory. They built a theory, however unlikely, and suggested treatment. After days of treatment, and with no improvements, the doctors advised surgery. That helped, somewhat, until the meds for recovery made her have hallucinations.

On one occasion, she swore that she saw Jeffrey Davis sitting up straight by the window. That one had crept Van out entirely. Then on another, she kept clapping her hands together, as if to catch something. When China asked her -faintly - what she was doing, she'd say she was catching butterflies.

Neither was possible. For one, Van had gone and identified Davis's body. He wanted to be sure -in a sick, twisted way - that he'd killed the bastard. And Hazel's room was on one of the upper most levels. Butterflies wouldn't make it to, or through, the ever closed windows.

Her progress, if one could call it that, wasn't encouraging. She was still scared shit-less that Davis would come back. And like Van, seeing a child had her staring off at nothing in particular.

Real progress didn't start until nearly a month after the incident. By then, Van goth had almost come to terms with the baby's death. After many hours of therapy, and thought filled hours staring at a distressed Hazel, he'd realized that giving up wouldn't help neither him, nor Hazel. And Hazel was his main priority.

"I love you, you know."

Hazel glanced up at Van, her sad eyes searching his earnest ones. Her lip trembled violently for a while -as if she'd cry-,"You don't have to say that anymore. I'm not going to die."

Then her gaze wondered back to stare at the window, where the sounds of children playing on the playground wharfed up to them.

Van was about to argue, when she continued in a soft voice,"I didn't want a baby. But now, I think it's my fault. I killed her. Because I hadn't wanted her. So you don't have to lie anymore. I give up. I don't care what happens to them anymore. I want to go back to Chicago. I want to pretend that the last few months didn't happen. So, you don't have to lie anymore."

Van's dark blue eyes widened, like saucers. He was stiff, watching Hazel intently, to see if that was her idea of a sick joke.

"I'm not lying. I f**king love you. I can't imagine my life without you, Haze. I won't make it if I lose you too."

The too stung Hazel, like a bee. Deep down, she wanted to stay, to heal both his and her wounds. However, every time she looked at Van's tired face, and the unhealthy look that settled in on his skin, she felt guilty. The one thing she could have done right -for once in her life- and she messed up. She hadn't protected his child.

Fresh tears poured down her cheeks and Van got up, crushing her to his chest in a warm embrace. She cried for hours, until her blood shot eyes would leak not one drop more.

"It isn't a lie. I love you. I. Love. You. You, Haze. Don't even think about leaving me. I simply won't allow it."

His statement sounded like a threat. It probably was. Yet Hazel knew that he'd never hurt her. Somehow, him saying it sounded nothing like her second try at love saying it. No. When ever Gregory said that he wouldn't let her go, she could feel her skin crawl.

"I was with his brother three and a half years ago. They did something, and I snitched. That's why he came back for me."

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