51. MADDY

51

MADDY

The pool water is azure under the sunbeams, breaking out of the heavy clouds.

Ty's villa is quiet, the house music seeping through the speakers. It's only a handful of us, just a regular chill day. Three days since Carnage. Another party. I'm taking more days off than I've had since I moved to the Westside. Being around people helps me not to think about Raven.

The hurricane season is moving away. Everything seems to spring back to life.

Except I feel like I'm in the middle of a storm.

Dad calls every day. My head spins at the bizarre sense of normalcy. It's like we've never stopped talking. The first conversation we had, at Archer's office, I let myself cry in front of him. Hearing Russian, speaking Russian for the first time in two years felt surreal.

Dad is cautious, for the first time in my life. He is so diplomatic, it makes me wonder what Raven and Archer said to him before the first time we talked.

"You can stay," he said then. "But I have conditions."

"Do you, Dad?" I smirked through tears.

"Mila, listen to me, please." He even raised his palms in the air in surrender. "I'm not pressuring you into anything, but I need you to be safe."

"I was safe. Until you started looking for me."

"You were safe because I found you. Long before you knew it. And I took my time."

"Why?"

"Because I tried to figure out what went wrong and why you did what you did."

I laughed then, wiping my tears. "Really? You had to take time to figure that out?"

"I know, it was about your future engagement."

"Oh, it was a little bit more than that, Dad."

But he is still so compliant every time he calls, it's suspicious, it's unnerving, and it reminds me of how he used to be when I was younger—loving. While he used to break other people's lives, mine was the most important.

I sit on a sunbed and look through the pictures on my phone. Dad sent dozens. Our family friends, acquaintances, him, our homes and summer villas in Russia destroyed during the bombings, the new ones all over the world, including Venezuela where he spends a lot of his time on his oil company.

Little walks onto the deck and lies on the sunbed beside mine. He smiles. "Hi, Maddy."

He acts suspiciously quiet. He doesn't jump into the pool, doesn't goof around, only lies down and closes his eyes, his tanned body in only board shorts so relaxed.

I leave him for some time and go into the living room, find Callie and talk to her for a bit. Maybe it's more than a bit, because it's afternoon, and I feel hungry.

"Did you guys eat?" I ask.

"No. We can order something. Sonny hasn't had lunch either. Where is he?"

It's oddly quiet out on the deck, considering everyone is inside, chilling on the couches.

Little is exactly where I left him an hour ago, still sleeping. Weird, because he went to bed on time last night, and it's only late afternoon.

"Little, sweetie, you shouldn't be sleeping," I say as I walk up to him.

He doesn't respond.

I study his expression. Yep, fast asleep. No, not gonna fly.

I shake him lightly, "Little, wake up."

At first, I think he's pretending. But he's not responding. His face is still, and his mouth is slack.

"Little?" I shake him harder.

Suddenly, his words from a day ago ring in my head. "If something were to happen to me, would you and Rave come together to save me?"

"Little!" I shout to no response, and when I press my two fingers to the pulse on his neck, it's low, so dangerously low. And it's irregular. It's respiratory depression. How?

"Call the hospital!" I shout.

Callie and Ya-Ya dart out onto the deck. Someone is shouting into the phone.

I shake Little again, and his eyes flutter open.

"Oh, thank God. Little, sweetie, how do you feel?"

He is closing his eyes and falling back asleep, but Callie helps me to sit him up.

He rubs his eyes with his fists. "I'm seeeepy," he murmurs. "I'm… eee' was…"

He can't put words together, almost like he's drunk.

"Did he find someone's drugs? Pot? Something else?" I look around at everyone crowding us.

"What did you take, Little?" Shaking the kid, I can't help but notice that he struggles to stay awake.

Ray-Ray runs out of the house onto the pool deck. "Maddy! These!" She's shaking a pill bottle. "The safety lid wasn't snapped properly closed. The bottle was on the sink counter. I don't know how he knew I?—"

"How many?"

"I don't know. Can't be that many."

"We need to get him to the hospital ward. Now!"

Guff is already picking up Little. I yank the bottle out of her hand and look at the label.

Fuck. Sleeping pills. Why???

"Sonny, baby, stay with me," I say to him as Guff runs, carrying him, to the golf cart parked outside Ty's house.

Thank God for the small island because the medical center is only a two-minute drive from here.

We rush inside, Guff carrying Little, who still looks like he drank a bottle of booze.

Dr. Hodges is already out in the hall.

"It's been an hour since he's taken sleeping pills," I say as we trot to one of the empty patient rooms the doctor is directing us to. "So, probably no use pumping the stomach. But he needs the antidote."

"We got it."

"He didn't take many," I say as Guff lays Little down on the bed, "but his vitals are slowing down?—"

"We got it, Maddy," Dr. Hodges says, already a syringe in his hand.

"But he might?—"

I keep talking, already prepping the IV as Little gets an antidote injection.

"Give him a moment," the doctor says, "and he should be alright to talk. If not, we have a problem."

A minute later, Little finally manages to stay awake. He rubs and rubs and rubs his eyes with his fists.

The doctor takes a chair and sits by the bed, then checks his pulse. "Sonny, how are you feeling?"

"Sleeeepy," he says.

"It's all right. What did you take? What pills, tablets, anything else?"

He notices me standing behind the doctor and lowers his eyes. Oh, I know that look well.

"It's all right," I say. "You have to tell us so we know what to do next."

"Those pills Ray-Ray had. She say' she goes sleep for long."

"You took those?'

He nods.

"How many?"

"Three."

Oh, God. That could've been the cause of heart failure in a child.

I take my phone and call Raven. He doesn't pick up. So I text.

Me: Sonny is at the medical center. Pills overdose.

Dr. Hodges tells me in a stern voice to step aside as he and the nurses ask more questions meanwhile holding Little's hand to insert the IV needle.

My heart squeezes unbearably hard at the sight—his brows scrunched up, him biting his lip when the needle goes in. The doctor continues talking to him in a soft voice.

He'll be fine. He'll be fine. He'll be fine.

I hope there's no allergic reaction.

The thing that bothers me the most is that Little is still, so very still, his dirty little feet in contrast with the blue hospital bed, and I can't bear the fact that he is not talking a mile a second or laughing or asking questions but instead answers in quiet short words.

"It's all right, baby," I murmur.

A loud racket and shouts come from the hall. Running footsteps follow, and the door swings open.

I don't look. I know it's him .

I keep murmuring to Little, "It's all right, baby, you'll be fine."

"What happened?" Raven's voice is right next to me. I feel his body crowding me.

"Sir, you need to leave!" one of the nurses demands.

"It's all right," Dr. Hodges says, dismissing her.

"What happened?" Raven demands.

"Please, move away," I ask, not giving him a single look.

"What is this?"

"Rave, step back just a little so they can do their job," I say calmly, though my heart beats like a war drum.

He moves. I don't look back, though I feel him. He's only a foot away.

He smells like smoke and whiskey, its smell stronger than ever before.

Little jerks at the sight of him, right away winces at the pinch of the IV needle in his hand, and yelps in pain.

Dr. Hodges holds his arm down and, in a low, soothing voice, tells him to relax.

"It's all right, Little, it's okay, baby, it's okay," I keep murmuring, stepping closer, almost hovering over the doctor as Raven does the same.

Little's sad eyes dart between us.

"You two." Dr. Hodges looks up over his shoulder. "Move away. Go stand over there. You are making things worse."

I step away to the back of the room. Raven's sharp gaze on me is almost murderous when he follows. "Can you explain?" he says gruffly.

"He took sleeping pills."

"Why?"

"He will be all right. There weren't that many, and thank god he didn't have an allergic reaction. He came to the pool right after he took them, so we caught it very early."

"Why?" Raven steps closer, towering over me. "Who gave him those?"

I don't answer.

"Who?"

I don't look at him.

He steps into me. I lift my eyes to meet his and see that same anger I saw the day we broke off the deal.

"Who?" he mouths, his gaze vicious.

"You don't get to look for someone to accuse," I say, hugging my middle and trying to stop my body from shaking. "You know why?"

He is so close, so very close, for the first time in weeks. And in this moment of Little's rebellion, I wish we didn't have to sort out our differences.

"Because yesterday," I say, "Sonny got angry at me for not calling you for dinner. He said, ‘If something were to happen to me, do you think Rave would come back here?'"

My eyes burn, and I bite my lower lip to suppress tears.

Confusion sweeps over Rave's eyes.

"You don't see it?" I ask in a loud whisper. "He found the pills. He took them. He did that because he didn't know what else to do. Because he thought he could make this work. Us. So, no, Raven, there's no one at fault but you and me."

Dr. Hodges gets up from the side of the bed, and I step past Raven and toward him.

"He'll be fine," the doctor says.

Little's sleepy eyes shift to me.

I step over and caress his face. "It's all right, baby."

He smiles weakly. His eyes shift to someone behind me, Raven. Sleepily, he tries to tug on the tube inserted into his hand.

"No-no-no." I gently keep his arm in place. "This has to stay here. Just for a little bit, okay?"

"Hey, kiddo," Raven says, the words so soft, I want to weep. "What happened?"

Little sniffles and lowers his eyes, studying the needle in his vein. "I heard Ray-Ray say tha' you can take a pill and sleep. If you take three, no one can wake you up. I thought…" He licks his lips and blinks slowly.

"You thought what, Sonny?" Raven asks a little roughly, and I give him a reproachful glare.

"I thought if I take them and sleep for like several days…" He trails off, then looks at me from under his eyebrows, then at Raven, then lowers his eyes and sniffles.

"You thought what?" Raven insists, but I know what's coming.

"Tha' you and Maddy will stay with me, trying to wake me up."

Raven exhales heavily through his lips and wipes his face with both hands. I bite on my lower lip, trying hard not to cry.

"Maybe you two can talk," Little says quietly.

"Oh, fuck me!" Raven snaps loudly, whips around, and starts pacing back and forth.

Little cowers into himself.

"It's all right," I comfort him.

"I'm sorry," Little whimpers, his widening eyes on Raven pacing around. "I'm s-sorry," he whispers, and I see tears well up in his eyes.

"It's all right, Little," I say, taking his hand and stroking his sweaty hair. "Raven is not angry. He just got a little scared for you, is all."

Raven walks back to Little's bed. "It's all right, kiddo. Maddy is right. I'm just?—"

"I'm sorry, Rave," Little says with a little sob, tears sliding from his eyes. "I'm sorry." He sobs again. "I'm sorry."

"Please, give us a minute," Raven says, and I realize he's asking me to leave.

I stand outside, in the hallway, my back against the wall, and want to hear so bad what he's telling Little. But I can't. So I simmer in my feelings. The scare for Little. The hurt for what he did because he wants to see Rave and me together. The guilt because he is a child with a broken childhood, and he is trying to put together the broken pieces of adults together. No child should ever have to do that.

Five minutes later, the door opens, and Raven walks out.

"Outside," he says curtly and walks past me.

Heart in my throat, I follow.