Authors: Marie Wathen
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Deciding
to stay at her parents after all, Kris and I stay up until the early morning
hours on Christmas morning. She finally tells me what is holding her back from
Tate. Knowing the truth answers all of my questions about her being so thrifty.
It breaks my heart that she takes responsibility for her father’s bad
decisions.
A
few years ago Patrick Daniels fell into a slump when he was forced into early
retirement after working for the same company for twenty-four years. They gave
him a pension, but he wasn’t eligible for health insurance. With the rising
costs, thanks to our amazing government, he came up short month after month for
a solid year. With his pride and home at stake he took a shot and bet on a sure
thing football game. Needless to say he lost big time.
Kris
found him one afternoon curled up in the living room floor weeping. He pleaded
with her not to tell Lynn and Russ. He couldn’t bare their disappointment. She
vowed then and there that she would do everything she could to help her father.
She gets her pride from him. I offered to help her, but of course she refused.
I, however, am just as stubborn as my best friend and will be making a phone
call Monday morning to clear the mortgage on the Daniels residence. She will be
pissed off at me, but eventually she’ll get over it. What else am I going to do
with all the damn money I save? If I can’t help people with it, what’s the damn
point?
I
eventually broke down and told her about my complicated relationship with
Blues. I didn’t mention details, but she’s smart enough to know that he’s bad
news. After listening to every reason I have as to why being with him is so
wrong all she could do was offer one single piece of advice. She told me, “A
man can change if he’s loved by the right woman. He’ll want it more than his
own life.” That’s it. Her sage advice brought to you by a hallmark greeting
card quote. No, I don’t know if it’s an exact quote or not, but it sure sounds
like their BS.
Russ
and Tate are getting along like best friends. I love seeing them bonding. It
feels almost like they are really my brother and soon to be brother-in-law.
Tate, Tate, Tate. What can I say about Mr. Perfect-For-Her? He loves my girl.
And damn did she ever hit the Casino Royale Jackpot. He is a true southern
gentleman with breathtaking looks. Tate is a large man with a freaking
linebacker physique. His dark hair and eyes compliment his dark tan
beautifully. He is seriously some hotness, as Kris likes to call him. If he was
my nurse, I would find a way to stay in the hospital longer so he could nurse
me back to health. Hell the hot temperatures he invokes would probably be enough.
While she was off in the kitchen helping her mother create our fabulous
Christmas dinner I pulled him aside.
“You
have my blessing, but you should know that girl is stubborn as hell,” I smirk.
“I’m
well aware, Sam,” Tate smiles back but his eyes are full of concern.
“Here
is a special pre-Christmas present for both of you. You’ll have to hide it in a
good place to keep it a secret from nosey in there,” I laugh softly when his
eyes flick toward the direction of the kitchen. “It’s the key to my grandparent’s
beach house in Key West.” I will never forget the look in his eyes as he takes
them from my hand. I recognized the wheels turning look. He now had the
loveliest place to propose, and I couldn’t be happier knowing that I get to be
a part of it.
“Thanks,
Sam.” His dark eyes sparkle with life.
“One
last thing,” I sigh, “If you suddenly become stupid and decide to let her get
away with postponing this relationship then it is me that you will have to deal
with. Understand?”
Tate
beams. “I’ll sweep her off her feet and she’ll never worry about anything ever
again.” I laugh. He’s a good man and a
smart
man.
Before
I knew it the week slipped past. Russ and I talk strategy, plotting the demise
of the X’kapz mafia and I hold my tongue about the personal shit. I think Russ
would shut down my assignment if he gets a hint about me and the second in
command getting freaky.
What
am I going to do about Blues? He made demands on me before I left that I just
don’t think I can agree to. We would both be risking a lot if we pursue this…
relationship…or whatever the hell you want to call it. Sneaking off and
scratching an itch occasionally is one thing, but being his is totally not
something I can commit to doing. My heart is fucking with my head and that is
deadly in this world. I cannot trust him.
I will not trust him
. So
therefore I cannot love him. It’s that simple. The best way I see it is to
avoid the hell out of him, like he has the black plague. Perhaps time and space
will give me time to get him out of my system. It isn’t going to be easy, but I
will make this plan work if it kills me.
“Sam,”
Kris whispers, “When will I see you again?”
“I
don’t know sweets,” I smile and glance over her shoulder at Tate, “How about Valentine’s
weekend? I can drop in on Saturday. We can do our traditional routine of
gorging on ice cream and vegging in front of the tellie watching scary movies
all night. We’ll tell all the boys to piss off until Monday.”
“No
good,” she demands shaking her head. “Valentine’s Day is on Monday. We have to
do it on the day, it is tradition! Since you were preoccupied with work this
year we had to skip it, but it has to be a priority next year.”
“Oh
shoot,” I fake disappointment. “I’m not sure that’s going to work with
everything that’s going on with the case. But I’ll do my best.” She sighs, but
relents with a sad, tiny nod.
“Take
care, Samantha,” Lynn says releasing me from a tight squeeze so I can leave.
“Bye,”
I wave to everyone as I pull away from my other family.
I
take the back roads through Canton heading back toward Decks house in Buckhead.
It’s late in the evening so most of the houses still have their Christmas
lights on. And unfortunately the families are out doing the slow crawl through
the neighbors to see them. I gun the throttle and pass several cars taking a
side road that leads up the backside of the mountain. A couple of other
vehicles had the same idea and turn just before me. I catch up to them as we
crest the first small incline.
High
beam lights flash in my side mirrors, indicating they want me to go faster. I’m
already pushing the ass end of the car in front of me on this dangerous road.
I’m not about to risk my life for some rude fucker who can wait a little longer
to get to his mansion on the mountain. The two cars in front of me turn off and
I pick up speed. So does the car behind me. We coast along at a speed a little
too fast for my liking, but I can handle it. I’ve taken many road course tests
and can outmaneuver most of the men in my department, in a car and on a
motorcycle.
After
the third incline I can tell the ground is getting icy so I slow up just a tad.
The asshole behind me doesn’t appreciate the decreased speeds so I flag him
around. After another minute of riding my bumper I flip him off and flag him
around again. That was my dumb mistake. He backs off but only for a second.
Before I realize it he is charging at me from behind and swerves at the very
last second. Passing me on the deadly crest, he gases the expensive looking SUV
until he spots the headlights of an oncoming car at the same time I see it.
I
brake a little and he swerves to get back in line causing his front fender to
nudge against my tailpipe. The car passes us and that’s when I make my second
mistake. I don’t feel like dying on this fucking mountain so I slow down even
more and flag the bastard around. He takes my offering and turns it against me.
The last thing I remember before plummeting over the edge at forty-five miles
an hour isn’t seeing the brake lights on the SUV. No, instead of watching him
stop to make sure I survive, I hear the asshole gun the gas.
Chapter
Thirty -Eight
January
“
If
you can hear me hold up two fingers,”
a voice from far away echoes this
statement so many times that I can’t stand hearing anymore and try to yell at
it to shut the fuck up, but my yell sounds like a moan to me.
“
Good,
you can hear me
,” the voice says again and after a few seconds I manage to
grunt.
“
I
need you to come back
,” another voice whispers.
“
Can
you open your eyes?
” I understand the question, but for some reason I can’t
make my body do anything. What happened to me?
“
It’s
okay
,” the voice sighs. “
At least I know you’re in there
.”
“
I’m
going to give you something for the pain
.” I think it’s one of the voices
from earlier asking, but I don’t know.
“
I’ll
be back in the morning to check on you
.”
“
Miss?
”
a sweet voice singsongs
, “You
have visitors here to
see you.
”
“
Sam?
”
I know that voice, is it my brother? “
God, I’m so sorry
.”
“
I
know you don’t like this part, but I need to take you down for another CT Scan
.”
Darkness
invades every thought. Sometimes in the moments when I hear the voices I can
feel a slight touch against my hand or my face. I understand that I must be in
the hospital, but I don’t understand why. Sleep will help. I’ll just rest until
my body is better.
“
You
have to wake up
,” a deep voice rumbles. “
I want you to come back for me
.”
I know that voice and I need him.
I
literally have to force my eyes to obey when I command them to open. It takes
several tries, but finally I am successful. The light piercing through my tiny
slits is excruciatingly painful to my head. I lift my hand to block the light,
but it doesn’t respond. I shift my gaze down and see that my left hand is lying
beside me covered with a cast, but the damn thing isn’t moving. I blink a few
times and finally my lids don’t feel so heavy anymore.
“Well
good morning,” a pretty young nurse says, hovering over my face. “It’s about
time you woke up.” I’ve been dreaming? She runs a light across both of my
pupils and I groan
at the relenting pain the
brightness inflicts.
“I’m sorry sugar. I just need to check you over
real quick.” Her southern accent is thick so I know I’m still in the south. I
just can’t be sure if I’m in Georgia or if my grandparent’s flew me home.
“Good
morning Ms. Johnson. I’m Dr. Vincent,” a tall middle-aged man informs me. “I’m
glad to see you awake. You’ve suffered a minor concussion and have several
fractured and bruised bones. We had to do surgery on your left arm due to the
severity of the injury. Except for that, your other injuries should mend over
time.” Dr. Vincent smiles down at me while checking the bandage on my head.
“This may sting a little. Your hair is stuck to the tape. Hold still just a
moment.”
He
takes a little longer than a moment and pulls out several strands of my long
hair. I whimper and he apologizes. My mouth feels really dry so I swallow and
it hurts. I try to speak, but another groan is all I can manage. I am in hell.
“Alright,
now I want you to try and tell me your name,” Dr Vincent says staring at me.
“You can do it. It might be painful, but if you tell me your name I’ll give you
something to drink besides water.” He smiles encouragingly.
“
Ssssss
…” I force my name but it only sounds like a bunch of
S’s. I try again and get the same results.
“Okay,
maybe you need some help remembering. Your name is Angel Johnson.” Shit. I
almost blew my cover. If anyone else is in the room with us that could have
been bad, very bad.
I
clear my throat and try again, “
Annn
….
gggg
….
eeeeelllll
”
“Very
good,” Dr. Vincent says smiling proudly. “Keep working on it and you’ll be good
as new in a few days.”
Days
?
Dammit how long have I been like this?
“
Cccc
…
ccc
…” I sigh at the
ridiculous effort it takes to say one word freaking. “
Ccc
…
ooooo
…
kkee
”
Dr
Vincent chuckles. “A deal is a deal. I’ll have the nurse bring you some coke.”
Sipping
through the straw and getting a nice long thirst quenching drink makes me feel
half human again. The nurse sits my bed up so that I can see the room. Except
for her it’s empty. I wonder if I imagined people coming to see me.
“Hi
ya honey, I’m Elizabeth,” the nurse says. “Let’s try saying your name again.”
We
work on it for a while until finally she’s satisfied that I can say it without
dragging out the letters for too long. My mind is definitely racing faster than
my tongue and I’m frustrated as hell. I need answers and I need to get the hell
out of this hospital.
“Elizabeth,”
I manage to say after a couple of whispered attempts.
“How
long?”
“You
came in last night after a motorcycle accident,” she winces like she feels bad
for me. “Your hair should be okay. Well, after a good washing.” She smiles when
she offers this bit of information. I nod. “Why don’t you rest a little while? We
can work on doing some other things later.”
She
leaves me alone after that. I shift my eyes to the window and manage to get my
head to follow. Being like this makes me feel useless. Tears sting my eyes and
I feel them slide down my cheeks slowly. Will I stay like this? Why can’t I
remember everything that happened to put me in here? I watch the sunlight move
across the sky for hours. The nurse works with me more until my voice is
better. Feeling the tug of sleep, I close my eyes and drift into the darkness
again.
“Time
to wake up,” Dr Vincent says strolling into my room. “Are you up for a jog
around the hospital?” He laughs and I roll my eyes. Three days of the same lame
ass joke each morning and I’m ready to cut him.
“My
bum is killing me. If you’ll let me out of this place I’ll jog any damn where
you want.”
He
laughs again. “Glad to see you’re feeling better. I think we’ve pretty much
covered every possibility of what could happen once you get home. Now do you
have someone that can come get you?” Who the hell can I call?
“Is
my phone here?” I ask and he spins around toward the small closet. Reaching
inside he pulls out my backpack and I release a heavy breath when I realize
that I recognized it.
“Could
it be in this monstrosity?” he jokes.
I
hold up my right hand and take the bag from him. I fish around in the side
pocket until I locate my cell. “Here it is. Give me a few minutes and I’ll have
an answer for you.”
“Yep,
I’ll be at the nurse’s station. Buzz me when you’re done,” he says leaving.
I
lay my phone down in my lap and stare at it for a long time. I know I can’t
call Kris, she will freak out. Russ is supposed to be in jail and can’t come to
my rescue. I don’t want Decks coming just in case someone recognizes me and
blows my cover. I sigh and scroll through the names in my call log.
“Ah ha!”
I cheer.
“Hello?”
a soft spoken voice says hesitantly.
“Natalie?”
I ask.
“Angel?
Oh my god Angel is that you? Oh, it is so good to hear your voice. I have been
worried sick. Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.” She takes a breath and
I rush my reply to calm her.
“Natalie,
I’m okay. Can you come get me?”
“Yes,
of course I’ll come get you,” she releases a heavy breath. “Where are you
Angel?”
“I’m
in the hospital.”
“Oh
god,” she whispers her voice filling with emotion. “Are you hurt?”
“I’ll
answer all of your questions after you get me the hell out of here.”
She
chuckles. “I’m on my way.”
After
ending our call I change into clean clothes and pace around the small claustrophobic-inducing
space until they get here. Twenty minutes later Natalie, Wise and Murph stroll
into my hospital room.
“Shit.”
Natalie stops dead in her tracks and covers her hand over her mouth when she
gets a good look at me. “Oh honey, are you okay?”
I
nod my head and manage to hold back the tears threatening to escape. “I’m just
ready to go. Can I stay with you for a few days?”
“You
can stay as long as you need,” Wise answers for her. I smile at him and turn my
attention to Murph. He doesn’t look happy, which really isn’t that big of a
deal, he always looks frustrated, but this look is different somehow. I smile
at him, but I should have saved it for a brick wall. It would garner the same
deadpan results.
“Let’s
get the hell out of here,” I say dropping down into the wheelchair the nurse
pushes into the room.