BANGERZ 3: ON THE RUN (2017)

Prologue

Anna

"You know Daniel didn't kill himself, right, Anna?"

These are the first words Frank McCann says to me when I wake up. They don't even register at first - they simply float over to me, piercing my growing consciousness. I feel as if I'm looking through a fog - my eyes flutter once, twice... the fog thins and he comes into focus. He is leaning against the window across the room, gazing out of it forlornly with his hands in his pockets like a pensive GQ model.

More of my surroundings gradually reveal themselves. A clear, thin tube spills from the edge of my bed and snakes toward a tall, oblong object I can't quite see behind me - but judging by how weak I am, and the ebbing pressure I feel in the crook of my elbow, I know it's my IV fluid. Faint beeping sounds come from somewhere on my right, outside my periphery, and the harsh glare of the hospital room pinches the edges of my vision.

The grogginess is frustrating, but I attempt to sit up. The movement brings on its own slew of struggles. My brain seems to have been replaced with a piece of lead and my stomach toils and upends like a Slinky. I lay a hand protectively over my bump, as if this will somehow quell the waves of nausea rolling over me and subdue the baby's kicks. I wonder if she is as motivated as I am by the mention of her father's name.

"What did you say?" I finally ask Frank. This is the only response I have.

Frank turns away from the window to face me. The shock that registers on his face makes me think I've somehow failed to realize I'm naked underneath the sheets and I've just given him a topless view. I look down, alarmed, only to see I'm covered in an unflattering but modest hospital gown.

When I glance back up in confusion, he is hastily making his way to the door.

"My God," he murmurs. "I didn't realize you were awake. I was only - thinking out loud. Let me - let me get the nurse." He jiggles the door handle.

"Wait!" I call out, surprised at how my desperation saps me of my strength. I relax against the misshapen pillows of the bed but don't take my eyes off him. "What did you say about Danny?"

Frank's hand doesn't leave the handle. Tension grips his broad shoulders, forming a hard line beneath his suit. I've never seen this man in anything but a suit. I've also never seen him act anything but forthright and cordial. And this is a man I've only come in contact with a couple times. So why is he waiting in my hospital room while I'm asleep and telling me about my deceased fiancé?

Suddenly I realize how strange this is, and if I wasn't so puzzled I'd be apprehensive.

"Nothing, Anna," he murmurs in a patient, pacifying tone one would reserve for a small child. He still doesn't face me, which makes me think that he hasn't reigned in whatever he is clearly trying to hide. Funny, I pegged him as someone with an impeccable poker face. "I didn't say anything. Just relax. I'm going to get the doctor."

"Frank." I say his name like a brake. "I am wide awake. And I might be pregnant, but I'm not crazy. I heard you say something about my fiance. If you don't stay I. Will. Scream. Bloody. Murder." I enunciate each word. "Like I'm in pain. Do you wanna see how many people come running at that? We can try it."

It's more of a warning than a threat. But it originates from such a basal, bereaved part of me that it comes off as sinister anyway. In its wake I see the rigidity of a normally unyielding man deteriorate - even Frank is impervious to a grieving, expecting mother - and he gives a sigh that seem to weigh him down rather than lift a weight off. Regardless, he releases his grip on the doorknob, turns, and comes around to the end of my hospital bed. My eyes follow him the entire way.