Reasons to Leave (Reasons #1) (27 page)

She picked up her phone and flicked through the messages to make sure she hadn’t somehow missed a call or text from Jason. But no. There was nothing.

****

Jason stepped into the hospital and his nostrils were immediately assaulted with the smell of disinfectant and bleach, making him slightly nauseated. He had always hated hospitals; ironic considering the career his father had tried to force upon him. Slowly, willing one foot in front of the other, he made his way to the nurses’ station of ward nine when all he wanted to do was to turn around and leave.

“Hello, can I help you?” The grey-haired lady behind the desk smiled as she spoke.

Jason cleared his throat and looked around feeling rather inconspicuous. “Oh…yes…I believe my father is in here…erm…Michael Alexander Reynolds…he…erm, had a stroke.”

“Oh yes.” She frowned. “But his son, Dillon has already been in. Who might you be?”

He cleared his throat again. “I’m his
other
son…kind of…what do you call it…estranged? I’m Jason.”

“I see…I see. Well, he’s very ill. I’m not sure how much you’re aware of, but…I’m so sorry. Perhaps you’d like to speak to the doctor? I know that this isn’t something you’ll want to discuss out here with me.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m aware there’s little chance of his recovery. I just…need to see him.”

The lady smiled kindly. “Of course you do, dear. He’s in room five, down the corridor and to the right.”

He began to walk toward the room, counting down until he arrived at room five. The door was closed, and after taking a long, deep breath, he opened it and walked inside. He was greeted with the sight of a frail looking man, eyes closed, lying flat on a bed attached to all manner of bleeping and flashing machines. The man was grey-haired and pale. He bore very little resemblance to the man Jason had once known and feared. You could have been forgiven for thinking that
this
man had no malice in him. No anger. No aggression. But he knew different.

He tentatively stepped toward the bed and looked down at the unconscious man. He wanted to feel something.
Anything
. But all he felt was numbness in his heart…or the space where one used to be. A nurse walked in and checked over the machines, marking on a clipboard chart, smiling at Jason.

“You can sit with him. You’re family. It may help for you to talk to him,” the nurse offered before walking out and leaving him alone with the man once again.

He walked over to the chair and sat down. “So you’re on your way out, are you, old man?” His voice was croaky and his mouth dry. “This is the second time today I’ve spoken to a dead parent…although
you’re
still clinging on I see. I have no clue why I’m even here. I owe you nothing, Mick. But you…you owe me
so much
.” He sat silently for a few moments as tears of anger welled in his eyes. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and clenched his fists in his lap.

“I wish you could just answer my questions. I’ve got so fucking many. Why’d you do it, Mick? Why did you treat me so badly? Was I such a fucking disappointment? Did I show you up so badly that you had to hit me…punch me so fucking hard? Did I really deserve that? I was a little kid when it all started. All I wanted…all I
needed
was for you to be proud of me. All I wanted was for you to tell me you loved me and to mean it. Okay you said it in front of Mum and Dillon, but what about when it was just us, eh, Mick? Would it have hurt you so much to just show me some love? I can’t even bring myself to call you
dad
.

“I left my home…my friends and my whole life thanks to you…beating me whenever I did the slightest thing wrong. I was a
kid
for fuck’s sake. No kid’s perfect. But no kid deserves that. Dillon wasn’t perfect, yet you never hit him with a belt or a stick, did you? You never punched him so hard he threw up. What did
I
do that was so fucking bad? I just don’t get it. I don’t get any of it.

“You ruined my life. I wanted to
marry
Stevie. I
would
have married her, Mick. I would have been a good husband too. Well, I would have tried my best, that’s for sure. But you…you took that away…you took my
future
with her away!” He raised his voice at the man lying still and unaware before him. “Now she won’t let me into her heart again. Why? Why did you do it? Wake up and fucking tell me the answer, Mick!” He stood and towered over the oblivious man.

He calmed himself and sat again. “Were you happy, eh? When I left? Was it what you wanted? Me out of the way? Were you happy that I walked out on everything and everyone that I loved just to get away from you? Well I hope you found it easy to live with yourself after what you did. I
loved
you. I would have done
anything
to have you love me back. I looked up to you. But you had to spoil things.”

He dropped his head in his hands and let the tears flow. “I want to forgive you. I really do. I’m trying so hard. The thing is…you can’t hurt me anymore. All the damage has been done. You can’t break what’s already broken. So I suppose the only thing I can do is be the bigger person, eh? I’ll do what you could never do… I’ll forgive you.

“I’ll never know your reasons…if you even had any…but today this ends, Mick…no more. It’s over. I forgive you.” He reached out and grabbed the cold hand that lay still before him. “I can’t forget but I can’t live with all this hate inside me either… I forgive you, Dad. So if that’s what you were waiting to hear, I’ve said it. You can go now.”

He sat there for a few moments still clutching Mick’s hand. He stood to leave, and as he did so one of the machines intermittent beeping stopped. A flat line appeared on the screen.

Mick was gone.

Jason walked out of the room as two nurses rushed in. With tears streaming down his face, he walked past the nurses’ station as one of the nurses who had entered his father’s room jogged after him.

“Mr. Reynolds! Are you all right?”

He wiped his eyes. “Not really, but I’ll live.” He smiled sadly and walked through the doors.

Overcome with nausea, he took some time in the men’s restroom to splash water on his face and calm himself. After walking away from his father’s room, a sense of panic had washed over him. He was suffering palpitations, and he knew that part of it was down to just being
here
, in this area again. He longed to go back to Scotland. Back home. But now his father had passed, he knew that returning home would most probably be delayed.

He had no idea how long he’d been standing there, staring at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. Thankfully, no one else had entered. After taking a few deep breaths, he left the rest room and made his way toward the hospital’s exit.

“Jason!” He looked to his left just as a fist connected with his face.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jason staggered backwards with the force of the impact. He hit the wall with his back and the air left his lungs in a whoosh. Bending double, he gulped desperately trying to pull air back in, but as he looked up, he could see the fist ready to strike again. It came toward him again, this time hitting him in his side.

“You bastard! You fucking disappear off the face of the earth for
ten years
, and then you come back like nothing’s happened! And
you’re
the one who’s by his bed when he dies! You selfish, spineless bastard!”

Jason recognised his brother’s voice, albeit more mature than he remembered. He didn’t retaliate. He stood up and the fist connected with his face again. People walking into the hospital stared and gave the pair a wide berth. Someone shouted for security, and two large, burly, uniformed men came to grab for Dillon. Through blurred vision and the blood seeping from the corner of his eye, he could see that Dillon had filled out quite a bit. He’d always been a scrawny kid. His mousey brown hair was in a fashionable short crop, and his eyes mirrored Jason’s in colour, but that was where the similarity ended. And there was something else burning in there too.

Hate.

He wore loose fitting jeans and a fitted white T-shirt, which was now spattered with Jason’s blood. He watched as the two security guards lunged forward. Holding up his hands, he yelled, “No! Leave him. He’s my brother.” The two men glanced at each other in confusion.

“Don’t go playing the fucking big brother card with me now, Jason. I have no brother! Not after what you did!” The pain and anguish was audible in the younger man’s voice, and he lurched forward again delivering another blow to Jason’s body, making him crumple to the floor. “
You
killed them, Jason! You killed Mum first when you left and never said why. You just up and left! How could you
do
that to her?” Another punch, this time to his back. “And now you’ve killed Dad! I’ve lost
everything
because of you! No one was the same after you left. I got the scraps of everyone because
you
decided to do a disappearing act! How could you? Did
I
mean nothing to you? Did
we
mean nothing to you? And what about Stevie, eh? You left her too!”

Another punch made contact but with less force. Dillon appeared to be tiring himself out.

Jason sat in a crumpled heap, blood streaming down his face and his eye swelling as he was motionless, slumped against the wall.

The two security guards grabbed Dillon. “Oy! Enough, sonny Jim!” One of them shouted right in Dillon’s ear. “You’re upsetting the other visitors. You pack it in right now, or I call the police, capiche?” He strained against the men who were twice his size. After tugging and resisting, Dillon finally held his hands up in surrender.

The men let him go and stepped back but hovered in case he decided to attack again. Jason looked up and waved the men off. “It’s fine…we need to talk…thanks for your concern though.”

He pushed himself up and felt his nose. There was so much blood. An elderly lady skirted around Dillon and passed Jason a handful of paper towels without speaking a word. “Thanks, love. I appreciate that.” He did his best to smile as the lady gave him a sympathetic look and Dillon a scowl before walking through the hospital entrance. The security guards backed away and left the men alone.

Jason looked up into Dillon’s face to see an expression, which was a combination of fear, anger, regret, and sadness. His chest heaved up and down. His hair was damp with either sweat or the fact that he had rushed here after a shower.

Panting like he'd run a marathon, Jason addressed his brother. “Do you want to go inside, and I’ll wait here for you?”

Dillon’s face contorted with confusion. “You didn’t fight back…you just…you
let
me hit you. Why didn’t you fight back?”

“Because you’re my
brother
, Dillon, and as much as you have
no idea
why I left, you are obviously upset and have every right to be so. So I didn’t
want
to hit you. I
don’t
want to hit you. I know I have a funny way of showing it, but I do love you. I always did. I’m not here to fight with you.” Jason blew out a long huff of air and dabbed at his cut lip. “Look, go on inside. Say your goodbyes. I’ll be here when you come out.”

Dillon still looked confused and shook his head. He pointed a finger at Jason accusingly. “You owe me some answers, Jason. But I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m so angry all I want to do is punch you as soon as I look at you. Now fuck off back to wherever you crawled out from. We’ll talk when
I
want to. On
my
terms.”

Jason nodded. “Okay, little bro. That’s fine.” He took out his wallet and removed a business card. “My mobile number is on this card. Ignore the other stuff, it’s my business up north. I’m staying at the Sure Stay…the one just off the motorway. Room forty. I’ll wait to hear from you. We have lots to discuss, and there’s some stuff that you need to be prepared to hear. It’s not pretty.”

And with that, Jason thrust the card into his brother’s hand. “Now you’ve got my contact details, it’s just how you want it…on
your
terms. I’ll wait to hear from you.” And with that, he turned and walked away.

****

“He’s fucking back! I can’t believe it, Stevie. He must have some kind of telepathy. I don’t know how he dares to show his face around here after what he did.” Dillon’s disembodied voice sounded distressed and pained down the line.

Stevie’s heart almost stopped. “Jason? He’s here?”

“Yeah, he fucking is… Jesus, I’m so sorry for swearing…and I shouldn’t say Jesus either…but fuck. What do I do now?”