Chapter 155
I could tell Cadence and Aaron were still talking to each other through the IAC because they were way ahead of us, like they weren’t paying too close attention. I was taking my time on the slick stairs, though, and Brandon waited for me. When we reached the bottom, we went around a corner and down a narrow hallway a short distance.
There were a pair of high security doors. We passed the first one and Aaron stopped in front of the second one. I imagined Laura was behind door number one. Part of me wanted to see her, too, to let her know how unhappy I was that she’d shot my sister, but Cadence was alive, and I was sure she’d already gotten her revenge.
In a quiet voice, Aaron reminded us about Sam’s condition. “He’s in pretty bad shape, but he’s still a cantankerous old fart, so stay back. And, Brandon, whatever you plan to say to him, don’t expect any sort of polite response.” He looked at us both for a long moment, as if making sure we grasped what he was saying.
“I understand,” Brandon replied with a sharp nod. Brandon looked at me, and even though he would never mention it, I was sure he was just as scared and nervous as I was. I managed a smile and grabbed his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. That seemed to make him feel slightly better, and he turned back to Aaron who pushed a few buttons on the control panel, and the door unlocked.
The cell was small, with only a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling to light it. There were no windows, no natural light of any kind. A cacophony of whirrs and beeping noises greeted us as we stepped forward toward a gurney in the corner of the room, which took up much of the space. Same was hooked up to all sorts of machines, his head propped up on a pillow. He looked like an old, beaten down skeleton. He was so still, I wouldn’t have doubted he was dead. His face was misshapen, swollen and bruised, and a big chunk of his hair was matted to the side of his head in dried blood. A glance at the sheet thrown over him, and I could easily see his legs were twisted beneath it, like they had been shattered and never reset. One of his arms looked completely useless where it hung by his side.
Whatever he had once been, he was certainly nothing to fear now.
I felt Cadence wrap her arms around me about the same time that Brandon stepped forward so that he was standing next to Sam’s bed. I could see from where I was standing just fine, and I wanted to give Brandon time to do what he needed to do, though my soul longed to push me forward, to accost him, to berate him, at the very least to demand a reason why. I did none of those things as I waited for someone to speak.
It seemed like five minutes passed before Sam finally said something, without opening his eyes. His voice was a low growl, raspy, like he hadn’t had any water for days. I could see he had an IV, and it seemed as if he must be on some pain medication or else he’d probably be screaming from the amount of damage he still had to his crumpled body. His question was demanding, despite his condition. “Whatcha staring at boy?” Once again, the loathing crept up inside of me like nothing I’d ever felt before.
It seemed to take Brandon a moment to compose himself before he asked, “You the Cowboy Sam who shot Elliott?” His voice was strong with only a hint of a waver when he spoke his dad’s name.
Slowly, Sam opened his eyes and looked at Brandon for a second. I thought I saw a slight flicker of recognition before he closed his eyes again and said, “That’s me. What’s left of me, anyhow.”
When Brandon spoke again, I could hear the rage in his voice that I felt deep inside my bones. My sister’s arms were still holding on to me, giving me strength, and I echoed the sentiment when Brandon demanded to know, “How could you do that? How could you turn a gun on one of your own? How could you pull the trigger knowing you were killing one of your own teammates?”
I couldn’t tell if the sound Sam made was a sigh or a groan of pain. He opened his eyes again and moved his head and shoulders as if he were attempting to sit up. He must’ve realized he couldn’t do that, so he stopped moving and looked squarely into Brandon’s face. “The need for revenge will make you do all sorts of things, boy.”
Exactly what he was talking about, I wasn’t sure, but the statement was profound, and I think it took Brandon and I both a moment to weigh it before Brandon continued, seeking clarification. “Revenge? For what? Elliott never did anything to you.”
“No, that’s true.” The fact that he’d admit it made me both furious and perplexed at the same time. “But she did.” At first, I thought he was pointing at me, but then I realized, he was pointing past me. At my sister. “And he got in the way. That’s all. Pure and simple.”
Slowly, Brandon turned and looked at Cadence, a questioning expression on his face. It wasn’t judgmental necessarily, but he obviously wanted an explanation. My sister cleared her throat and said, “All I did was take out a Vampire that needed to be destroyed.” Her voice was calm and self-assured.
Sam didn’t seem to care for that answer. “And with him, you destroyed my only chance at getting revenge for the death of my family member that Henry slaughtered in cold blood.” His voice was louder now than it had been since we’d walked in. Turning back to Brandon, the broken man continued. “You see, boy, revenge is a funny thing. It’ll make you do all kinds of stupid things. I let my anger at Cadence cloud my judgment, and I took it out on Elliott because he was in the way. Now, I’m laying here, praying to die, knowing I can’t, knowing God wouldn’t let me even if it were possible.”
Brandon asked the other question I’d been longing for an answer to since the day I found out Elliott was gone. “Does that mean you’re sorry you killed Elliott?”
But I already knew the answer. Taking a step forward, I said, “No, it means he’s sorry Cadence didn’t kill him, that’s all.” I stared at the old man, no longer in the protective cocoon of my sister’s arms, realizing he wasn’t sorry for any of it.
Perhaps I was expecting some sort of profound or deep answer. Instead, he practically looked right through me. “Don’t matter. Even if I was sorry, they’d never believe me. I’ll just lay here in agony for the next several years ‘til my body finally puts itself back together. Then… who knows? These walls may be my home for the rest of my life.” His response was all about himself with no mind for what he’d done to our friend. I had heard enough. I was ready to go. I shook my head in disgust and stepped back over to my sister, who took my arm in hers.
“Was it worth it?” Brandon asked, gritting his teeth. Apparently, he was still hoping for some sort of cathartic response that would make this all better. He didn’t realize yet that Sam couldn’t provide closure for us. No one could.
Sam didn’t bother to answer the question. Closing his eyes, he said, “Sorry ‘bout your dad, boy. I know what it’s like to lose your family. Happened to me twice. Hope you can get Giovani. Punk deserves to die.” At least he’d said the word sorry, even if he wasn’t sorry about what he’d done. He was sorry, it seemed, that Brandon, an innocent person, was suffering because of it.
Surprised, Brandon asked, “How did you know Elliot was my dad?” I was shocked to hear him ask; anyone who had ever met both of them would have to know the answer to that question. But then, Brandon had never met his dad.
I was stunned to see a smile crack across the old man’s face. “Cause you look just like ‘im.” His eyes were still shut as he turned his head toward the wall, and we all realized this conversation was over.
I could tell Brandon was frustrated. He stared at Sam for a moment, and then shaking his head, he walked back over to us. We all left the room, and Aaron made sure the door was locked behind us.
Brandon’s pain was different than the rest of us. We all had recollections of Elliott, could hear the echo of his infectious laughter in our minds, could see his smile when we pulled it from a memory. Brandon had none of those things. What he was missing was a foundational element that had never been there to begin with. What it would be like to find out you had missed knowing such a wonderful person who was supposed to be one of the most important people in your life, I would never know, but I felt a connection to Brandon in that moment unlike I’d ever felt with a person before.
My sister had her arms around him almost as soon as the door was closed, and I was envious of her, once again, wishing I could be the one to comfort him. But I knew their relationship was different than the one I was starting to form with Brandon, and even though it was Cadence who was holding him, his eyes were on me.
